midnight, wordle, and gentle hands.
- ❀ -
If he had to put the feeling of safety into words, it would be this; being warm and half asleep on George's chest in George's bed with George's hands in his hair smoothing out any knots so carefully Dream barely notices.
George is good at that. Both the head rub thing and the making Dream feel safe thing.
Dream blinks in the dim light from George's phone, seeing him reply to a text from his sister and swipe away a snap from sapnap. He likes watching george on his phone, just mindlessly scrolling Twitter and checking the news.
It's when George opens up Wordle that Dream perks up.
"Do Dream," he mumbles, using his voice for the first time in what feels like days. It comes out all hoarse and quiet; muted like cotton.
"Oh," George pauses, letting his thumb hover. "I thought you'd fallen asleep."
Dream rubs his cheek in George's shirt. "Almost. Just been thinkin'."
He hears a sigh and then George's gentle hand is brushing the hair back from his forehead, making his eyelids flutter and almost close again.
"Always thinking aren't you," george says, and he's right.
Dream smiles weakly, "Yeah."
"Stop thinking," George tells him softly. "Sleep."
Dream hums in agreement.
George's hand leaves his hair to type 'dream' into the first wordle row, and Dream tries his best not to miss the feeling instantly. He fails, though – he misses it the moment it's gone.
Only the second and third letters are correct, but at least they're in the right spot.
George clicks his tongue. "Yeah, now what, idiot."
The bite in his tone makes Dream grin. "'s not too bad. We got two right. 40%."
Without consulting with him, George types in 'crest' next, and only the s turns out to be correct.
Dream huffs. "Why'd you do such a weird one."
george returns the hand to his hair. "You're a weird one."
"Do dress," Dream suggests.
"But there's no d. D-dream, D-ress."
"Oh," Dream blinks sleepily. "Forgot."
"Silly," George calls him, using his soft voice and brushing through his hair again in the way that makes Dream want to close his eyes.
"'Press', then," he comes up with. He has a good feeling about this one.
"Mmm," George hums expectantly and types it in. And this time, every letter turns green.
"Nice," George says, smiling audibly. "Press."
"Nice," Dream echoes him, intonation and all, and it makes George laugh like it always does.
Dream closes his eyes in contentment, and he keeps them closed even as he's jostled by George twisting to the side to put his phone on his nightstand and turn the lights out.
"Are we just sleeping like this?" Dream asks as George lies back down, hoping for a yes.
"Yeah, just getting us under the covers, one second." George sounds tired, too, and it reminds Dream of their sleep calls. Hearing his sleepy voice through the phone, a little crackly and uneven.
It's none of those things now; in his ear, it's just George – unfiltered.
Dream lets himself be moved around a second time, happy to be tucked in and have George be his pillow. He's not even really thinking when he asks, "Are you gonna give me head rubs now?"
The question just tumbles from his lips before he can stop it, and there is no ignoring how softly he says it. His cheeks grow warm in a heartbeat and he's glad the room is dark to hide it.
George laughs, but not meanly. "Sure, Dream," he says. "Yeah, I'll give you your head rubs."
"Thank you," Dream manages to mumble, slightly muffled in fabric.
Deft fingers find their way to Dream's curls, starting up a rhythm, and George's cheek comes to rest against Dream's temple.
"No more thinking now, okay?" George talk-whispers. "Only sleeping."
Dream smiles, he can do that. "Okay."
George's breath fans warm and steady across the bridge of his nose, and there is something about this feeling of being held that's his favorite, and it's the easiest thing to just drift off, up and away.
- ❀ -
