dream doesn't wake up when he's supposed to, and george takes matters into his own hands
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George is getting increasingly anxious on his friend's behalf.
He knows for a fact that Dream is supposed to be on a lore stream in 30 minutes, but one glance into the blond's room showed that he is still fast asleep.
This is what led George to his current predicament of trying to convince Sapnap to go wake him up. They're standing just outside of Dream's bedroom staring each other down in some kind of stand-off. George has a feeling he has already lost.
"You've known him the longest, go wake him up," he tries for the fifth time, a growing sense of urgency in his tone.
Sapnap isn't budging. Of course he isn't.
"No way dude. If he's asleep he probably wants to be, I'm telling you. I'm not trying to get my ass kicked."
But George knows Dream wants to be on that stream, he knows that Dream would hate himself if he missed it.
He worries his lip for a moment, glancing between Sapnap and Dream's closed door. No, Dream needs to be woken up. And if Sapnap isn't going to do it–
"Okay, guess I'll do it then."
Before he can overthink it, George steps past Sapnap, places his hand on the doorknob and gently twists it open. Sapnap mutters him a quiet "good luck" before his footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving George alone in Dream's doorway. George is so getting him back for this.
Dream's room is dark in front of him, the only light being the square of sunlight outlining his closed curtains. George lets his eyes glide to the bed where he finds Dream asleep on his stomach, arms around his pillow. His comforter has slid down to only cover his legs leaving his back bare, a sight that George's breath definitely doesn't hitch at.
He wills himself to let his fingers slip from the doorknob and pads quietly toward the bed. No going back now, he thinks, and the mattress dips where he sits down next to Dream's sleeping figure. George places a hand on Dream's back and rubs his thumb over sleep-warm skin.
His voice is hushed as he speaks into the silence. "Hey Dream, it's time to wake up."
It only takes a moment for Dream to stir. He rubs his face in his soft pillow, and when he stretches out his back, George can feel his muscles tense up under his palm. He settles so he's facing george, though his eyes remain closed.
"Why," he mumbles (whines).
George has to bite back a chuckle, and rubs Dream's back instead. "You have that lore stream soon, remember?"
Dream hums sleepily and shifts closer until his face is pressed to George's thigh, putting an endlessly fond smile on the brunet's lips. George moves his hand to brush through caramel curls that splay out against his leg.
"Clay," he says softly. "Don't go back to sleep."
Dream rubs his cheek on George's shorts and tilts his head back to look up at him, smiling lazily as he wakes up more.
"Clay?" He echoes in question, teasing.
George brushes hair from his face, suppressing a giggle of his own. "That's your name isn't it?"
Dream yawns, then his lips curl into a smile. "Not to you."
George chuckles quietly and lets his hand slip away as Dream rolls over onto his back and lifts his palms to his face to rub at his eyes.
"Fuck," he sighs, and George looks at him with gentle eyes.
"Did you not set an alarm or anything?" He asks him, picking at the bedsheets between them. He tries not to think about how much he wants to reach out and touch Dream again.
Dream sighs again, tired. "No I uh," he rubs his face a little too roughly for George's taste. "I don't know what I was thinking," he admits, dropping his hands to his chest and looking up at George again.
"That's okay," George reassures.
Dream is smiling that soft smile again, and before George knows it, there's a warm hand touching his, slipping their fingers together. "Thanks for waking me up," Dream says, meeting George's gaze.
"Of course," George replies. He realizes that he's almost feeling shy under Dream's stare, and then he feels stupid for even letting himself think that. It's just Dream. This is okay. "Sapnap was too scared to," he adds with a quirked lip.
Dream laughs at that, squeezing George's hand lightly in the process. "Yeah, I would've kicked his ass."
George smiles, too, looking down at their hands, slotted together against Dream's bedsheets. "Figured."
There's a brief silence before Dream squeezes his hand again, snapping George's eyes up to look at him.
"Okay, I'm gonna get ready now," Dream says.
George takes the hint and draws his hand back, a blush tinting his cheeks as he hurries to stand up, "Yeah, sorry, I'll leave you to it."
"It's okay, George," Dream chuckles again, unbothered as he sits up and lets more of the comforter slip off him. He's wearing sweatpants (thank God). George tries his hardest not to stare.
Dream pushes himself up to stand up next to him, towering over him in a way neither of them can ignore. George has to blink to snap himself out of the sight of Dream's broad chest just inches away from his face. Flustered doesn't even begin to describe how he's feeling right now.
"Okay, I'll– see you later, I guess," he stutters out, giving Dream a fleeting moment of eye contact before heading over to the door.
Cool as ever, Dream just gives him a smile, mid-picking up a shirt off the floor. "Alright, I'll come find you as soon as I'm done."
George smiles back before disappearing out of the door, shutting it behind himself. He lets out a shaky breath once he's out in the hallway. Jesus Christ.
Sapnap is so not getting away with this.
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