We Can't Avoid This Forever

Early Mornings

George rubbed his eyes as he clambered down the steps, the intoxicating smell of syrup and pancake batter lulling him away from bed. Socked feet slide soundlessly into the kitchen before stuttering to a halt. George's eyes widened as they focused on the man in front of him flipping pancakes and seasoning sausage, head nodding to the beat playing through the AirPods in his ears. Nothing out of the ordinary, unless you acknowledge the fact Dream was doing all of that shirtless. There was nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants slung low around his hips covering the great expanse of pale skin beneath. George stared guiltily, but mesmerized, as the muscles in Dream's back stretched with every reach of his arms and his waist softened with every exhale.

George wasn't even into muscles... at least, not really. Plus, Dream wasn't necessarily a muscular dude. He was just... a dude, which came with natural back and shoulder muscles which happened to be very nice to look at while being put to work. And if George caught himself gazing at the softness around Dream's waist, imagining what it would be like to kiss the smooth belly that was hidden from his view, how Dream would catch his breath at the way George's lips felt against his skin... that didn't mean anything, right?

Dream eventually turns around, snapping George out of his thoughts as the shirtless man raises an eyebrow. "George, are you checking me out?"

George tries to play off the call-out with an eye roll, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. "You're so full of yourself, why are you shirtless anyway?" He asked, avoiding the question.

Dream shrugs. "I got hot."

"Yeah but..." George trails off, distracted by the fact Dream's full chest faced him. George has always known Dream would be bigger than him, but seeing his broad shoulders and chest in person has put a better perspective into his mind. He has the sudden urge to tuck himself in Dream's chest, block out the rest of the world and stay there forever. The broadness of his shoulders contrasts beautifully with the softness of his belly. Dream is an art piece, George decides. A statue that should be put on display for the entire world to appreciate.

"George you are quite literally checking me out right now you cannot deny it." Dream interrupts. His cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by hesitant self-consciousness.

George feels his entire body temperature rise by about 100 degrees, ripping his eyes from Dream and looking anywhere- and everywhere- else. "I- I was just- I've never seen you shirtless before. Well I mean I'd never seen any of you before 24 hours ago and now I'm seeing all these parts of you I've only ever imagined and I just want- no, I just need to understand it. To appreciate it." George stopped his ramble, peaking at Dream to see his mouth in a small "o" shape. "Sorry, I don't mean to be weird, you've just seen all these different versions of me but I'm just getting to know yours."

"No no no, don't be sorry. I forget that you've just now seen me, that this is new to you." Dream pauses, conflict passing through his eyes as his mouth opens, then snaps shut, debating. "Just, come here."

George doesn't hesitate, gliding with purpose towards Dream. He pauses a couple of feet away and looks up into searing eye contact.

Dream grabs George's left hand loosely, bringing it only inches away from his chest. "Is this okay?" Dream asks quietly.

"Yes." George responds, hating how nervous his voice sounds.

Carefully, Dream places George's hand on his chest, right above his heart. "This is me."

Dream's heartbeat races under George's fingers, he can feel every waver in Dream's breathing, every shaky inhale. His skin is fiery and sticky under his fingers from cooking. A sprinkle of flour lays unnoticed on Dream's shoulder, a portion of it drifts downwards as he shifts. He shivers as George blows a stream of cool air directed at the power,