On Thin Ice ☰ Dreamnotfound

☰ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ - ꜱᴡᴇᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ☰

If there was one thing Dream had underestimated over the years of knowing George, it would have to be how clingy he is. He had always assumed that George wasn't one for physical contact—which in a way, he was right—but having a strictly virtual relationship up until about a week ago made Dream realize how deceiving online connections can be from how a person acts in real life.

Prime example with the whole ice skating thing.

He noticed two things on this new December morning—the first being rays of the annoyingly bright sun which peeked through the blinds, casting a fluorescent light across George's gray bedroom walls. The beams danced across the room and almost pointedly decided to rest on Dream's face, bringing him out of his peaceful slumber.

On a normal day, he would have flipped over to press his face against his pillow, hiding away from the sun and deeming it too early. This would have certainly been the current be the case if he could actually flip over.

A pair of dainty yet strong arms were wrapped around him, one kept loosely around his neck and the other draped over his waist. This was the second thing that he noticed. A ruffle of messy hickory-brown curls rested on the base of his neck, and Dream could feel the way the giant koala-like-man would let out steady breaths on his collarbone.

He also took note of how he, too, was curled up with the other. Both of Dream's arms were brought around George's back, keeping him in place. Their legs were locked together, the little-to-no space between their bodies radiating a great warmth only they had the privilege of feeling. All Dream wanted to do was bask in the heatedness that came with the close contact; to fall back asleep with George all enveloped in his embrace like they were each other's blankets.

He was about to go through with that pleasantly sounding choice, but alas, he was reminded of what day it was when he picked up the faint sounds of laughter coming from downstairs.

"George, it's Christmas!" The dirty blond left out a sudden loud gasp, his eyes shooting open fully. His companion jerked in his arms, producing a groan as he pushed his face closer to Dream, lips brushing upon his bare skin.

"So? Wanna sleep..." George's words were slurred together due to having just been (very rudely, he would like to make clear) woken up. Dream couldn't help but chuckle at the way George curled back into himself, trying to keep the former cuddled up with him under the layers of blankets like a sleepy bear. He found himself being rather fond of the way George's eyelids fluttered shut, small creases forming around them as he tried to squeeze them shut; how George had slipped one of his legs in between both of Dream's, capturing the right one and linking them together.

Dream found George's scrunched up nose and smile crooked from sleep cute; he found George in general cute, though to what that implied he was unsure—or maybe just frightened of. (Dream was a smart man, after all)

"You have to get up, your family is already downstairs and by the looks of the light pouring in, I would say it's probably around ten thirty." Dream pulled the comforter that was tucked over them down to their hips, trying to make a move to get out of the bed. The lack of warmth just made George want to move closer, but after unlocking and retrieving his leg, Dream was able to change his position and swing them off of the mattress.

He unwrapped his arms from around George, a burning sensation erupting in his cheeks when the brunet let out a soft whine in protest. After about a minute longer, Dream was freed from his friend, no longer forced to be a human pillow for any longer.

(Though would he really mind laying there a little while longer? No, of course not, he wanted to, but now wasn't the time.)

As Dream walked over to one of the room's dressers where he had kept his phone overnight, George threw the blankets back over his head and sighed. It was clear that he had no intention of getting up anytime soon.