tall man's burden

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Dream was tall. This was obvious.

George, ever the astute observer, discovered this immediately, with only a small amount of rolling eyes and short exhales as Dream towered over him. As the other commented on it with looks and laughs and references to George's shortness.

"Wow," He blew out in a breath, "So tall, congratulations."

"Oh, why thank you, George," Dream replied, happily ignoring the blatant sarcasm in the other's voice, "I worked so hard to get to this height."

"Yeah, whatever," George scoffed, chalking it up to that masculine jealousy, "You don't deserve it."

Dream pouted at him. He often did when George made little digs at him, an exaggeration to the words he spoke without any real intent.

It infuriated him to see the reaction. The pull of a frown, the dumb puppy-dog eyes, the plea that urged George to rectify. Though he would just huff and brush Dream off because he knew the other didn't actually care.

"George," He prodded, "Take it back."

"No," Was George's flat reply, "I don't think I will."

Dream's expression smoothed out then, which only made George's irritation grow, the other spouting out nonsense such as, "That's fine. Guess I won't help you turn on the speaker next time. Have fun using a stool."

And George bit back with his own nonsense about how he had no reliance on Dream, that he could do anything himself. Strong, independent woman bullshit.

This, of course, came to the inevitable conclusion where George grumbled indistinctly as Dream patronizingly patted his head, smiling so smugly as he clicked the speaker on, "There you go, little guy. Now you can watch your movie."

"Oh my god," George muttered, even as he made his way to the couch, "You're such an asshole."

"I told you," The other murmured, far too pleased for George's comfort, "I said you were just gonna crawl back to me. It's okay, George, some people just have height deficiencies, and I'm more than willing to help with your," Dream's gaze flicked over George's form, "Problem."

"I have no problems, you're the only problem."

George's arms were crossed against his chest, for now. But he would get over it, he would let Dream swoon him with words and gifts and promises and whatever the fuck else got him back into George's good graces.

Dream was tall. Fine, whatever. He could come to terms with that.

The issue was that George actually did have a problem. Because it wasn't just Dream's height, how he had to look down or lean down to get George to eye level. Or how Dream stood behind the other's chair, looming above, tall enough that his entire face was cut off on screen. It wasn't just that George was a bit shorter and couldn't reach things, couldn't make Dream ask for help the same way the other did to him.

The problem was that Dream was big.

A physical presence whenever he entered the room. Broad shoulders that made George's frame look puny in comparison. Arms and thighs and legs, all of it was big.

George swallowed when he noticed his hands for the first time, when he felt and saw them against his.

Of course, he expected and knew there would be a size difference, that he was no large, intimidating man, even outside of being compared to Dream.

But he didn't think it would be this bad.

"Let go," George urged, struggling both with Dream's grip on him and staying focused on anything other than the knowledge that one of the other's hands effectively grabbed both of his, rendering him incapacitated, "You're hurting me."