heart monitors-dreamnotfound

twenty

"Hey, boyfriend," Dream chippers as George comes out of the shower, hair sopping wet and cheeks rosy.

The brunette rolls his eyes, throwing the fluffy white towel around his shoulders. "You're never going to live that down, are you?"

"Ouch, boyfriend," the blonde rolls his eyes. "That's not how relationships work, George," Dream smiles as he scoots over, leaving room for George on the bed.

After finally making things official, they both agree that it's a good time to spend the night. George said that it brought good luck to their relationship, but they both knew that he had no idea what he was talking about. Nonetheless, Dream pretended to agree, insisting that he saw the same thing somewhere on an Instagram reel.

They also came to an agreement that they were boyfriends but were only going to start going on dates after George got better and left the hospital.

For now, these little hangouts were "pre-dates," as George called it. Dream just laughed and called him cute.

You can't possibly mess up pre-dates, that was the magic of it.

And when it came to the time for a real, honest-to-goodness date, they'll be ready to create the perfect first date known to mankind. Their date would be astronomical. The types people write books about, base movies off of, and maybe even write in history textbooks.

The brunette leans into him, his hair leaving a damp mark on Dream's grey T-shirt. "Want me to dry your hair?" the blonde whispers, nuzzling into George's neck.

The brunette smiles, Dream's breath felt warm against his skin. And even without saying anything, Dream knows the answer is "yes."

Dream brings his toweled hand to George's soft hair, letting the brunette close his eyes and relax.

"We'll be fine," George says quietly but suddenly. "We'll be okay." His voice is hushed to a whisper, as if he was talking to himself.

The blonde doesn't know what he's talking about, or who he's convincing, but he still smiles. "I didn't say anything."

"I know."

Dream finishes drying George's hair, setting the damp towel to the side. "I'm going to go shower, so you can entertain yourself when I'm gone."

"Don't leave," the brunette frowns, pulling Dream back into the bed.

"Don't shower? That's nasty," the blonde sarcastically remarks. "Fine," Dream thinks for a bit. "You can search my backpack, you can draw, whatever makes you happy."

"Your backpack?"

"My chamber of secrets," Dream says with a playful attitude, ignoring how sexual that sounded.

George raises a concerned eyebrow. "Promise to never say that again."

"Wish granted," the blonde replies with a slight cringe. "Well, make yourself comfortable and I'll be back," Dream says, setting his backpack on the sheets in front of George.

"Really?"

"I've got nothing to hide," he adds. "Plus, you can throw away all the trash in there while you're at it," Dream smirks, flashing a quick thumbs-up.

"Asshole," George mutters under his breath, fingers toying with the zipper of the backpack.

"What was that?" Dream calls from the doorway of the bathroom.

"Nothing," the brunette replies with a mock-innocent voice.

He hears the door close, "That's what I thought!"