Chapter Text
“You boys would like one room, correct?” the kind lady at the counter says to Dream.
“Um,” George speaks up, peeking out from behind Dream's large figure, carefully pausing between his words. “Do you have any rooms with two beds?” he asks the worker.
Dream locks his eyes on the woman behind the counter. She is on the much shorter side, with long brown hair, only a bit lighter than George's. She looks around 35, Dream guesses. He looks down at her nametag, which reads “Jessie”. Jessie looks at George with a puzzled look. “Oh, um, since this is a honeymoon resort for newlyweds, we only have single-bed rooms. You boys can get another room next to this one if you’d like?”
Fuck.
“That would be gr-”
“Actually one room is fine, thank you,” Dream says, cutting off George as quickly as he can.
George shoots the taller boy a death glare, but Dream quickly looks back at the lady, avoiding the others stare.
Jessie places two key cards to room 243 on the smooth counter and slides them towards them. “The few weeks around Valentine's day are always super busy, I’m really glad you guys were able to snag a room. You boys enjoy your stay. Congrats on getting married, by the way. You’re truly a beautiful couple. I wish you the best of luck,” She looks over at Dream, shooting him a big smile.
Dream wraps his fingers around the two cards, handing one to George. “Thank you, really,” Dream says, looking away from George, trying to hide the light pink color that has taken over his cheeks.
“Beautiful couple, huh?” George giggles.
“You’re such an idiot,” Dream responds to him. “Let’s just get to our room before you somehow manage to break something,” he adds on, trying to change the subject as quickly as he possibly can.
Dream looks over at George. The brunette’s eyes are locked on a relatively small painting on the wall. They find themselves located in a hallway that leads them to the staircase that they need to use to get to their room. George was the one who stopped them, particularly fascinated by the beautiful paintings that line the wall.
Beautiful paintings all around us, but I'd still only stare at the man that I’m married to, even if it’s not real. Dream thinks.
“C’mon George, let’s get to our room and get settled in,” Dream urges, exhausted from their flight.
“This one has pretty eyes, like you,” George says, looking up and pointing at a small painting on the tan wall.
Dream walks closer to the older and looks down at him. George looks up, making eye contact. The taller stares into the smaller boy’s lovely brown eyes. They stand there staring at one another for what seems like hours, but in reality, is only a few seconds.
George decides to inch a bit closer to Dream and looks down at his lips.
At this point, Dream is panicked. Is this about to happen? Holy shit. No. Fuck. I’m getting my hopes up. This whole thing was supposed to be fake. He doesn’t like me like that.
After much consideration, the blonde follows the brunette’s lead and looks down at the other’s lips. He decides to just stand there and wait for George to do something, in case he is just reading the situation completely wrong. It’s about to happen. Holy shit. I’ve been waiting for this for yea-
Dreams phone dings.
He shoots his head up from its previous position, mumbling “fuck” under his breath. He grabs his phone and sees he got a text from Sapnap.
From: Sapnap
How are you and your husband doing on your honeymoon? Yall fucked yet? ;)
This can’t be happening. Dream thought to himself
Before he had the chance to send back an angry message, he glances up and sees George has silently walked away, admiring the many pieces of art on the wall. I really hope I didn’t just ruin what I thought that was.
Sapnap was the only person that knew everything was fake. A few months prior, Dream, George, and Sapnap were struggling to figure out how to get George a visa and finally permanently move from the UK to Florida.
Sapnap had the brilliant idea of George getting a K-1 visa. Getting married would be a much faster, and very sure way for George to get to the US.
"Why the hell do WE have to do it? Why don’t you marry him yourself, Sap?” Dream had said, in shock that it was even suggested.
“If it works it works, Dream. I’ll do anything,” George had said, quietly.
Dream was still very hesitant, though. A few days later, the blonde was in a voice call with Sapnap alone, when the marriage idea was brought up once again.
"Dude, I don’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not even real. You aren’t actually getting married for the reason that people normally get married,” Sapnap had explained.
“That’s the fucking issue, Sapnap! Is it not fucking obvious? I can’t do it. I can’t pretend it’s fake. It’ll destroy me,” Dream had spat out.
Sapnap had told Dream that he understood, and hadn’t been the one who brought the subject up since. The issue though, was George thought it was a wonderful idea, and constantly mentioned the subject, trying to convince Dream.
Eventually, Dream decided it was worth it, as long as it meant George could move here.
It worked.
Sapnap decided to celebrate his best friends’ fake marriage by booking them a room at a honeymoon resort for newlyweds in the middle of Seattle, called “Seaside Resort.” Dream and George weren’t too excited to be going on a honeymoon, but they finally agreed to go once Sapnap explained to them that it was basically just a free vacation, and that’s where they are now.
“Can we go to our room now?” George asks Dream, jokingly hitting his arm.
“Sorry- yes, one second, let me text Sapnap back.”
“What did he say to you?” the brunette questions.
“Um, he was telling me that Patches misses me,” the younger lies.
To: Sapnap
Fuck off >:( ill text you if anything happens, okay?
He hits send and shuts off his phone, slipping it into his back pocket.
“Okay, let’s go. What’s our room number again?” He asks George.
“243 idiot, it says it right there on your room key,” the boy says, pointing to the plastic card in the younger boy’s hand.
Dream rolls his eyes, and the two boys make their way to room 243.
The pair unpack their things and settle into their room fairly quickly.
“I’m gonna go shower, ill be back,” George says, standing up from the chair in the corner of the room and walking over to the bathroom.
“Okay, I know you have a lot of hair but please don’t use all of the shampoo, leave some for me.” Dream responds.
“Just because you said that, I’m gonna go use it all. Bye idiot.” The brunette says, closing the bathroom door behind him.
Dream looks around the room and hears a faint click of the bathroom door lock.
The room is beach-themed, the walls are a pretty teal color, and the bedsheets are white with blue pillows. There are pictures of seashells and beaches lining the walls.
Since they had an early flight that morning and Dream couldn’t sleep, he decided to take a nap while the other showers. He pulls the blanket away from the pillows and lays down on the right side of the soft bed, and falls asleep immediately.
An hour later, he finds himself waking up to someone violently tapping and shaking his arm.
“Wake up idiot, I don’t want to just sit here waiting for you. I’m bored. And hungry,” the brunette says in a joking tone.
Oh fuck, I forgot how good he looks with wet hair. is the first thing that comes to mind when the younger flutters open his eyes.
“Give me five minutes, George,” he says in his sleepy voice.
George freezes.
“Um, okay, yeah- sorry,” the boy says nervously.
A beat of silence passes and Dream groans. “Actually I’m hungry, do you want to get something to eat?” he mumbles.
“Yeah- I’d- yeah,” George responds.
Dream groans once again, and sits up. He looks at George and sees the boy is staring. “Like what you see? Damn.”
George freezes, and Dream quickly remembers that he took off his shirt while half asleep a bit ago.
Oh fuck
“Uhm, sorry- I’ll get dressed, and then we can figure out where to eat, yeah?” The younger says.
George nods, not saying anything. He walks away and sits down at the desk facing away from Dream to give him some privacy while he gets dressed. He puts back on the plain black shirt that he had on earlier and tells George he’s ready to go.
“Where are we even going?” George asks.
“I really fucking want some pasta right now honestly. Would you be down for some Olive Garden?” He responds.
“Yeah, sure. That sounds good,” George agrees.
“Good evening, my name is Eli, I'll be your waiter for tonight. Are you guys ready to order?” Eli asks, smiling at the two of them, but more specifically smiling at Dream for some unknown reason.
“Yeah, I’ll take the, um, five cheese marinara with angel hair pasta, please.” Dream says to the waiter, grinning back at the lanky boy.
“Um, I want the chicken alfredo,” George mumbles under his breath, very clearly pissed off about something.
“Alright, ill have that out for you in a bit, would you like more breadsticks?” Eli asks them, taking their menus.
“Yes please,” the two say in unison.
The waiter nods and shoots dream a large smile, teeth just barely visible. Dream smiles back with an equally enthusiastic look as the boy hesitetntly walks away.
Dream gets a good look at the man walking away from their table. He was a small boy with fluffy brown hair and round black glasses, around the age of 22. Damn, he’s cute. I really have a type, don’t I? he thinks.
“What the fuck was that?” George whispers angrily across the table, snapping Dream back into reality. Dream's head quickly whips around from where he was previously looking at where the waiter had walked to, back to the pretty boy across from him.
“Huh?” Dream is definitely confused as to what George is implying to say the least. “George, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m not an idiot, Dream,” He spits out. “You two were looking at each other like you were about to fuck in the middle of this restaurant.”
Dream's throat closes up hearing those words from George and he chokes on his Pepsi. “What?” Dream shipers to the man sitting across from him.
“It’s your life, I don’t care. Go for it if you want it. But you can do better,” George says, obviously annoyed.
Just as Dream was about to respond to him, explaining that he truly doesn’t have any interest in the slightest, the waiter arrives with their breadsticks. The small waiter sets down the bread between the boys, almost as if its a barrier between the two.
“Your meals will be out shortly, I apologize for the wait,” he says nervously, looking down at the floor.
“Thanks,” George says, looking down.
“Oh, um,” the waiter says, looking up and over at Dream. “Are you from around here?”
“No, we are just visiting from Orlando,” he responds.
“Are you looking for a tour guide? I’ve lived here my whole life, I’d love to show you around if you’d like. I can show you places that a normal tour guide wouldn’t,” Eli says, chuckling with a huge smile on his face.
“Um, thanks for the offer, but really I’m good,” he responds with a straight face.
“Call me if you change your mind,” the boy says, digging into his apron pocket and handing him a piece of paper with what seems to be his phone number on it.
Dream looks down at the paper in his hand.
XXX-XXX-XXXX ;)
It’s the waiter's phone number.
The waiter walks away, and Dream looks over at the boy sitting across from him. Without looking at the other, George grabs a breadstick and shoves it in his mouth.
“George,” Dream says, leaning closer to the other.
“No, go for it Dream. I said I don’t care,” George says in a stern voice.
Fuck it.
Dream reaches in his pocket and grabs his phone, setting the small piece of paper on the table where he can clearly see the numbers that are written on it. He opens his messages and starts to type in the boy’s phone number. As he types it in, he actually starts to think about what he’s doing, and he ends up figuring that it’s no use. For one, he lives on the other side of the country from him, and another big issue is he’s completely in love with the man sitting across from him.
There’s no way I could even try and fall for someone else.
He deletes the numbers that he had typed in and shuts his phone off, putting it back in his pocket. He looks up at the brunette, who is staring down at his own phone, scrolling through Twitter. Dream watches George’s screen for a bit, since there’s nothing really better to do, till he sees the other come across art that was on his timeline.
George clicks on the art to get a better look at it. From what Dream can see, it’s fanart of the two of them cuddling on a bed, with Patches and Cat to their side. Dream looks up at George’s face and can see the boy take on a faint smile, then quickly going back to a neutral face and clicking off the art.
After a few more minutes of the boys sitting in silence doing their own thing, a new waiter comes over to their table with their meals. This waiter is a lot taller and muscular compared to the other one. He sets down their meals in front of them and tells them to enjoy their food before walking away.
“Maybe you should try and get that waiter’s number,” Dream jokes.
George isn’t amused in the slightest, glaring at the man across from him, then looking down at his food. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Dream. He probably gives better head than you ever would,” George says in a completely serious voice.
“I guess we will just have to try it out to see if you’re right, then,” Dream mumbles quietly without thinking.
Did I just fucking say that?
He looks up and sees the brunette eating his meal with the biggest grin on his face.
“Um,” he continues, trying to move on as fast as possible. “Is your food good?”
George nods, stuffing chicken alfredo and breadsticks in his mouth.
Dream laughs. “Mine is, too,” he says quietly, almost to himself.
Compared to their dining experience, the rental car ride back to their resort was at least somewhat normal. The two boys had sat in silence for the first half of their car ride, with Dream focusing on the road and George staring out the window.
Dream breaks the comfortable silence between them. “Do you miss it? Home?” he asks.
George stays fairly silent, continuing to have his eyes locked on the trees passing by them out the window.
“This is home now, Dream. You’re my home,” he whispers.
Dream purses his lips. He has no idea what to say back, there's so much but so little that he wants to say. "What do you mean?” he ultimately decides on saying.
“You know what I mean.”
The both of them go silent, George continues to stare out of his window, and Dream tries to keep his eyes off the boy next to him.
I wish I did. I wish I could understand you, George, and I fucking hate that I never can.
Gradually, the blonde lowers his hand from the steering wheel onto the console between their seats. George looks over at the sudden movement, and stares at the others hand that's sitting between them.
Dream prays he isn't reading the mood wrong, and flips his hand over, glancing at the hand that is resting on George's thigh. After a few seconds of stillness, he sees the other boy's hand steadily inch over to his own, till he feels the brunette's cold hand on his own.
George smiles.
Dream looks back up at the road and feels George’s touch trace the lines on his hand.
I'm so in love with you. he so desperately wants to say, but knows he can't.
When he’s done, George interlocks his fingers with Dream’s and squeezes as hard as he can. Dream squeezes back, and George lets out one of the most genuine giggles that he has felt in a long, long time.
Dream and George arrive back at their hotel room around 9 that night, the darkness from their window indicating how late it was. Dream turns on a lamp, blinding the two with the sudden bright light.
“I know it’s only 9 here, but it’s midnight back home and we had an early flight this morning, I’m so tired,” Dream says, yawning.
George groans. “Me too.”
Dream uses the bathroom and walks out to get his pajamas. As he walks over to his suitcase, he looks over to the bed and sees George laying there.
He’s in his boxers. No shirt, no pants, just boxers. Oh fuck. He thinks.
George turns around and catches Dream staring. “Oh- sorry, I normally just sleep in my boxers, if that’s okay. Since we are sharing a bed I can put clothes on if you’re uncomfortable,” he says.
“No- no, it’s fine. I actually sleep in my boxers too,” Lie.
George nods and lays down in the bed, pulling the blankets over his legs. Dream swiftly strips off his shirt and pants and walks over to the bed, laying down on the right side of it, right next to George.
The other boy turns on his side facing away from Dream to turn off the lamp. Dream turns to the inside of the bed facing the other, shutting his eyes and beginning to doze off when he feels something pressing up against him. He shoots his eyes open and looks in front of him.
Does he mean to have his fucking ass on my dick? No, he’s just tired and not in his right mind. He thinks.
Dream attempts to scoot back, but George follows.
No no no no fuck fuck fuck-
Dream slowly feels his boxers start to tighten. This can’t fucking be happening. It’s only the first night.
He decides there’s only one way to get out of this situation, which is to get up and go do his business elsewhere.
He rushes to the bathroom as quietly as he possibly can and sits on the toilet, immediately pulling his boxers down around his ankles.
Biting his lip, he closes his eyes and moves his hand down to his length. He starts to slowly move his hand up and down, progressively getting faster. Occasionally, he slows down, rubbing his tip with his thumb. Thoughts of his best friend start to pop in his mind as he gets closer and closer to his release. He thinks about Georges’s pretty pink lips and how beautiful the smaller boy would be on his knees with Dream’s length in his mouth.
"Fuck” Dream groans out loud.
As more thoughts of his best friend enter his mind, he gets closer, and closer, and closer, till-
“Fuck ohmygod-”
Pleasure runs all throughout his body, and he attempts to hold back a loud groan from leaving his mouth.
He starts to come back into his normal mindset and he feels sticky all over his hands and thighs.
Did I just fucking do that with George right outside the room?
He stands up and cleans himself, making sure to hide all evidence of what he just did. A few minutes later, he turns the bathroom light off and lays back down in the bed. As soon as he lays down, the brunette scoots right back onto him like before.
Fucking hell, this boy will be the death of me.