It wasn't often that George was nervous around Dream.

More often then not, Dream was the one nervous around George. Nervous when George smiled; nervous when George laughed; nervous when George pulled that pinched, unreadable expression that usually meant he was upset; nervous when George would slip scrawny fingers between his own and squeeze; nervous when George would look at him, really look at him, as though he'd hung the moon and the stars. Dream was always nervous around George.

But, for once, George was nervous around Dream. And Dream knew.

George had been quiet, quieter than usual. At first, Dream figured he really was just tired - they'd both pulled some awfully short nights over the last few weeks and Dream himself felt exhaustion keeping at the corners of his eyes.

But then that same jittery nervousness became permanent long after Dream had certified that they shared a good few nights of restful sleep and Dream began to feel it spread and catch in his own chest.

More than once, Dream caught George curled on the floor with a cat and a kitten in lap - puppy much too excitable to sit still. He was talking to them, Dream knew that he was because he could hear it as he approached, but every time he got close enough to decipher what George was saying, the other would stop.

He asked about it once, late into the night, fresh from a late lasting stream. "Do you talk to the animals, love?" He'd begun and George froze up. No more thumb idly scrolling twitter, no more brown eyes watching through their peripheral and no more nervous fingers drumming.

"No." George denied guiltily at the time, though Dream hadn't the heart to press further on accounts of the sizeable bags beneath his lover's eyes.

With George fast asleep sprawled over his chest and Patches equally so over George's back, Dream let himself wonder when this nervousness began.

There hadn't been any awful streams as of late - not that he was aware of at least. No terribly awkward questions that set off bad moods or stirred rumours, no infuriatingly unsuccessful runs or anything of the like.

In fact, Dream couldn't recall anything that would have made George so lingeringly nervous since the man had spent a day alone with-

Oh.

Yes, he supposed, that may have been it.

Sapnap had begged the two for longer than Dream could remember for another meet-up, possibly since George had moved in in the first place. Then, at the last moment, George and Sapnap decided to spend the day alone together for the first time - they reasoned that they'd meet up again soon after and Dream would be able to join them that time round.

Now that he thought about it, George had been fine before seeing Sapnap. He'd seemed excited even, up early that morning and dressed and ready long before Dream had the chance to finish his cereal. George had pressed a quick kiss to his forehead and then scrambled out of the door.

And ever since he'd gotten back, it was almost as though George could no longer look him in the eye.

Dream found himself back what seemed a hundred years ago, when he'd first seen George in person. George had stared, understandably so, and looked away bashfully every time Dream attempted to catch his eye. It had been funny, even a little charming, at the time but now it was rather worrying. He should be able to catch his boyfriend's gaze without the boy in question glancing away.

It really wasn't all that healthy for Dream to pry his eyes upon in order to dwell on what could have possibly happened that day that would have affected George this badly but he didn't really care.

Next, George would start avoiding him, and Dream wasn't going to deal with that.

But, to his surprise, George didn't start avoiding him.

Come next morning - Dream was terribly disappointed to find he let himself fall asleep - George seemed as though nothing had ever happened. He greeted Dream with a sleep-addled smile and even entertained Dream when he began peppering feather-light kisses over the Brit's face.

Dream was simply glad George hadn't rolled away the moment he opened his eyes like the day before.

This went on for many morns, George finally letting go of that anxiety and reintegrating himself into their domestic life. Dream was willing to let go of the moment, more than ready to put it behind them, when he finally found its cause.

It was a day like any else. Maybe a little on the slow side, if Dream had to single something out. Midday had rolled around and George had wandered in to peel Dream from his chair and drag him to the kitchen to make lunch.

There was nothing special about lunch either, Dream picked something quick and easy from the cook book that George's mother had bought for them and worked on making it with George at his side. They spoke lowly about simple matters; how editing was going, whether they had any new ideas, when they'd finally reveal that George did know what Dream looked like, that George and Dream were romantically involved and that George had been living with Dream for years now.

They ate in similar conversation too - relaxed and warm and familiar. It was only towards the end, when they'd both finished and were crowded side by side at the sink washing up, that George became antsy once more.

"Dream!" George shrieked, staring down at his soaked shirt, to the backdrop of Dream's wheezing.

"Oh, come on, you were zoned out again! I had to!" Dream reasoned, threading fingers through one of George's belt loops and pulling him closer. George huffed and flicked the water coating his hands at his boyfriend's face. He then cupped his cheeks with a dopey smile, watching as Dream scrunched his nose.

It was now or never, he supposed.

"Clay, I..." George began. "I need to talk to you."

"Aren't you already?" Dream asked before realising that George was serious and changing his answer. "I mean- yeah, of- of course. What do you need to talk about?"

"These last few years... have been the best time of my life because of you. I'm not good with words, there's a reason you're an author and I'm not, but you're everything I've ever wanted and more. You're my best friend and... and the greatest thing to have ever happened to me."

To say Dream was confused would be an impossibly large understatement. While it was lovely to hear these sentiments from George - so lovely that Dream could feel the knot in his throat and the burning in his eyes - Dream wasn't entirely certain why he was hearing them.

Until George finally pulled his left hand from his pocket and turned to his taller, taking a deep breath.

Until George lowered himself onto one knee.

"And I know now that, this life with you? That's what I want forever, if you want it too." Yeah, Dream was definitely crying now.

"Clay, will you marry me?" George shakily opened the small velvet box in hand to display a simple, silver ring with their anniversary engraved on the inside.

Dream found himself choking around the tears cascading down the curve of his cheeks. He couldn't breathe, clutching desperately at the front of his hoodie as though it would alleviate the pressure in his lungs.

"No."

George moved with the weight of the word, hands faltering and falling slightly. "What?" And now George felt he couldn't breathe either, but for all different reasons. The single little word had pierced a hole in him, all life trickling slowly from it until he was utterly hollow on the floor.

"George, I can't marry you." Dream stuttered. George was all too busy in his heartbreak to realise that it looked as though Dream was looking for something.

"Why not?" The shell that was once George managed, barely above a whisper.

"Because you're going to marry me."

And, with that, Dream joined George on one knee, pulling an almost identical box from his pocket.

At first, George backhanded Dream. Hard.

Then he grabbed a fistful of the man's hoodie and kissed him, equally as bruising.

And, fuck, now he was crying too.

"You're such an asshole." George breathed, finally pulling away enough to speak.

Dream grinned tearfully. "But you'll marry me anyways?" He asked nervously, pressing each letter into George's skin with warm kisses.

"But I'll marry you anyways." George eventually agreed, letting Dream take his hand and slip the ring onto his finger before doing just the same.

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1.5k words

Requested by my lovely wife SoftForDream I hope this is what you meant :]

Requests are open!

Yours, Dandelion