Homocide Fifty || DNF

32. I Feel You, I Like That

George looks at him, bewildered. He feels ecstatic and the whole message feels unreal to read. He looks at Dream who's now looking at him. They look at each other for a few moments. He feels like a child getting a new toy. Treading on air.

His mind goes a hundred miles per hour. Dream's piercing, viridescent eyes stare into his own, and he can feel tears start to form again. He feels stupid for crying this much, but he can't help but feel it all come crashing down.

Languid movements. Long breaths. A quiet room with two quiet people. Dream looks unsure of what to say, and George is still processing what he's just read.

So instead of talking, George goes in for a hug which Dream gratefully accepts. They stand up instead of awkwardly hugging while sitting. He hugs him tightly, sniffling. It's a feeling of safety and longing at the same time. He doesn't know how much time has passed since he arrived here, but it's definitely been a while. At least it feels like it.

Dream's hands are warm and big. So, so warm. And safe. And the smell of him. George wants that smell imprinted in his mind forever.

They finally pull away from the hug. Their foreheads rest against each others, heavy breaths and nervous giggles getting erupted. They hold hands and look at each other.

George finally breaks the silence. "You're so sweet," he says. He doesn't compliment people often, but this feels special. It's like getting butterflies in your stomach while it does flips.

"Thank you," Dream says honestly, escaping a sigh. "I've missed you."

"I figured. You've made my phone lag because you sent me so many messages," George chuckles. Dream lightly laughs as well, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

"Is your phone not used to get that many messages? Are you a bit lonely?" Dream says in a playful voice, making George scoff. He smiles widely, muttering a small, "no! You're an idiot."

"No you."

"You."

Their noses touch and their lips are inches apart. Both parts know where this is gonna end. They know, and they want it to happen. Dream squeezes George's hand. George copies him.

"You are."

George can barely contain himself.

He can barely mutter out a "you're the idiot,"because he's so distracted by their close proximity. Dream's touch is like magma. It burns. But it burns in a good way.

It burns in a knowing way. It's like a reminder that Dream is here with him. Only with him. There's a long moment of silence where they simply look at each other. Something they haven't been able to do for a long time. To simply glance over the different features the other has.

George starts counting Dream's freckles, but he gives up after not long. It's like a constellation across his cheeks.

Dream caves. He doesn't continue the bickering.

"There's fire in your eyes, sparks on your tongue, and I can't decide what I want."

George's breath hitches. His brows lower, lips part. He looks at Dream's lips and contemplates crashing them together right then and there. It's a feeling so strong that he leans in just before their lips connect. They're almost impossibly close. He can hear Dream's heartbeat beating out of his chest.

"That has to be one of the hottest things you've ever said to me," George blurts. His eyes widen slightly, not expecting himself to admit such a thing.

Dream smirks, looking at George's lips. "Bold, aren't you?" He chuckles confidently.