Myct oneshots (ON HIATUS FOR NOW)

soft [dream and george]

Dream plays with George's hands :)

It is a peaceful early morning.

Dream fell asleep on the couch last night, tucked away nice and snug in George's arms, and that is exactly where he woke up today. He didn't move far in his sleep, just slid down a little so his cheek laid on George's stomach.

George was already awake when Dream's eyes fluttered open, and he instantly brought the boy closer when he noticed his movement. Naturally, Dream was all too happy to cuddle into the warmth, a smile already playing on his lips.

They've been sitting together like that for a while by now, just existing together, close and comfy, half-watching whatever is playing on the TV.

part from a handful of familiar noises, the living room is filled with quiet. There is the soft sound of the air con above their heads and the muffled, almost muted dialogue from the TV.

Outside the windows, gentle sunlight is peeking over the top of the garden hedge. It's almost like the sun is being shy, very carefully allowing itself to pour into the rooms of their house.

Dream is leaning back against George's chest, forehead pressed to the side of a warm neck. In his lap, he is holding one of the brunet's hands in both of his own, mindlessly playing with his fingers.

The fuzzy feeling from the evening before is still very much settled in his mind. He feels perfectly content, perfectly small here in George's hold. It's the sort of regression where he's not quite sure whether he's completely in or out of it, though he doesn't mind not knowing for sure.

He tugs lightly at the smooth fingers in his palms before guiding them to curl into a fist. Behind him, George is watching his movements fondly, chin hooked over his shoulder.

Suddenly George closes his fist tightly, startling a giggle out of Dream. Clumsy hands attempt to pry his fingers apart again but George easily keeps them shut.

"Open!" Dream says, his voice as soft as the sunrise.

George stretches out his fingers for a brief second before tightening them into a fist again, making another laugh bubble out of Dream.

"Open please," he requests again, taking extra care to be more polite this time in hopes that George would give in.

And unsurprisingly, it works. George loosens his fingers with a chuckle, watching the smile that lights up Dream's face at his commands having an effect.

Dream then places his pointer finger in George's palm. "Close please."

Once again he is absolutely delighted when George does as he asked, encasing his single finger in his fist. Dream snuggles closer into his friend's arms who laughs and wraps him in a hug, kissing the side of his head.

Then, just as suddenly as before, George flexes his hand for a fleeting second, startling Dream for a second time and sending him into a fit of giggles.

He holds on tight to George's hand to stop it from moving, but George does it again anyway.

"No!" Dream yelps with a grin, adjusting his grip.

George smiles. "What?" He asks innocently.

Dream squeezes his palm. "You're movin' your hand, I saw it!"

Unable to deny it, George just laughs and nuzzles into the blond's neck.

Dream lets out a content sigh and lets his head loll to the side against George's, settling down after their round of antics.

They sit in easy silence for a few lasting moments, Dream focused on tracing shapes onto George's hand and George letting him do as he pleases, smiling into his shoulder.

At one point, Dream brings George's hand right up to his face, his eyes crossing as he stares into the palm of it. He eventually brings it to his cheek with a small chirp, closing his eyes as he leans into it.

From his hand's new position, George brushes his thumb gently over Dream's cheek, passing tiny freckles.

"Are you sleepy, darling?"

Dream only nods into his hand. They may have woken up only a short while ago, but it's never too early for a nap.

George carefully slips his hand out away from Dream's cheek and uses it instead to adjust the boy so he can rest his head in the crook of his arm. Once Dream is nice and settled against his side, George lays his hand back on his cheek, as if to keep him safe.

Soft, blond curls brush against his face with every sleepy rise and fall of Dream's back, but George doesn't mind. He can't think of a better way to spend his morning than 

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744 Words