Creak. What's that? Dream wondered, pulling his eyes open. It wasn't like he'd been sleeping - far from it, actually- he'd been too excited about having George here, finally here, to actually fall asleep.

"Who's there?" He called out groggily. Dark brown hair hit his eyes first, before drifting to the black hoodie with a big smiley face on it. George. The hoodie hung off his hands, tapering slightly. It looked large on him, but there was something so endearing to it he couldn't quite place a finger on it. A small smile began working its way up his face before he could stop it. Somehow the man in front of him always made him smile, no matter how long it has been.

He could tell George was nervous, though, with the way he was bouncing up and down on his feet, which were coloured by a pair of mismatched socks, in blue and green. He shifted slightly, fingers pulling at the ends of the sleeves. What if I mess something up, what if I'm not supposed to do this, what if I-

"George?" Dream's voice cut him out of his reverie, sounding sleepy. "What are you doing here?"

Well, it's now or never. "I just...couldn't sleep. I was wondering if I could...you know-" he glanced at the king-sized bed between them, not quite sure what to say. Well, he knew exactly what he wanted. He just....couldn't quite put it into words. Not yet, anyway.

Not that they really needed words between them. In a way, it was kind of odd how intimately close they knew one another, despite having just met in real life today. It feels like forever, he thought. Forever since I knew him.

"Come here." Dream scooted off to the other side of the bed, leaving some space for him. Letting out a sigh of relief, George scrambled to the bed, jumping on it. Sending chuckles through Dream.

"Don't do that, dummy. You'll mess the duvet out."

"I don't care!" George pouted, sticking his tongue out. But he was still smiling. Like a fool, he thought, but he felt his heart grow in his chest.

"Whatever." Dream shook his head silently. George playfully punched his shoulder. Dream let out a yelp, before the room fell silent.

George felt his heart stuttering in his chest, pounding against his ribcage. It was pounding so hard, he could have sworn Dream heard it. This...is real? As much as he loved being here, it was hard to believe he was here, after so long.

"Dream?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you...touch me for a moment? Just so this feels real?"

"You want me to..." Dream's voice sounded oddly shaky, even to his own ears. Okay, now George could swear he could see his heart through his ribs.

Swallowing, he continued "you don't have to if you don't want to," hell, when did my throat get so dry?

"No, no, it's not that. It's just...would you mind if I touched your neck?"

What? What in the- is he for real right now? But the thought of that still sent butterflies through George, though the truth was, he didn't really mind. "Nope, go ahead."

Fingers wrapped around his neck and waist, pulling him closer. George squeaked for a moment, before turning back to see who it was. A crooked smile adorned the other boy's face, eyes glittering in mischief.

George let out a steadying sigh, his heart still stuttering. Dream. He wasn't quite sure what he expected when he face-revealed, but it probably wasn't this. He wasn't the first to see his face, that much he knew. But he was second, despite him not living with him, and that meant something. He could feel the flush creeping up his cheeks, but all he could think about was Dream. It's real, he whispered to himself. This is real.

Up close he could see that Dream's hair wasn't quite brown at all, unlike what it looked like in the photos. While it wasn't quite a pale brown, it was a very light golden-brown colour that somewhat reminded him of pop-tarts fresh out of the oven.

They were threaded with strands of pale gold, curled into ringlets that looked soft and fluffy, nothing quite like the soft, straight hair that fan artists drew him with. Without thinking, he leaned forward, closing the bare inches between them. His fingers threaded through soft curls, playing with them. Dream's hair felt like cotton strands in his hands, something rough in them, haltingly familiar, despite how soft they felt. A soft chuckle escaped the other's lips. Sending George almost reeling back, face turning slightly pink at how close they were.

We're so close, he thought. Barely inches apart. There was no ocean between them anymore, no shield between them, leaving George alone with his feelings. He retreated, but before his fingers slipped out of golden locks, a warm hand slipped off his neck, wrapping around his wrist. George looked at his best friend in shock, but all he could see in his eyes was his grin, the way his eyes seemed to shine. Up close, he could tell they were green, mixed with shades of grey, like mist in a forest, fogging up shades of green. Not that it really looked green to him, it looked more like dull gold to him. It suited him, in a way. It reminded him of medals, in some way. Where he was all silver, Dream was all gold.

"Leave it," Dream breathed out, "I like it."

The words hung between them like a pendulum, swishing back and forth with no signs of stopping. At least, in an ideal world.

But the world they lived in was far from ideal. But George still kept his fingers in Dream's hair. "Can I play with your hair?"

This time, it was Dream's turn to be flustered. "Sure, go ahead."

George ran his fingers through his hair, staring in awe at how pretty it was. He liked how roughly smooth they were, looping through his fingers. They seemed to shine, in the dull moonlight that shifted through the frosted window panes, and for a moment he imagined them somewhere else, in the middle of a field. He looks so ethereal, Dream thought, even as George's fingers looped through his hair, ruffling it.

Neither moved, not really, even with the silence between them.

No need for words,

Not when actions existed.

"Good night, George."

"Good night, Dream. "

And they drifted off to sleep.