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The Dance of Intertwined Swords

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The air in the camp is stale, frozen yet electric. As if all of nature is yielding to observe the oncoming quarrel. No dust rises from the dirt, staying stiff against the ground. The usual sound of flying arrows and the clashing of swords has faded to a low hum. Even the trees stop their swaying. Curious nymphs peek out with eyes trained on the two demigods. Water sprites alike rise to the surface of the nearby lake eyes fixed on their favorite dearest demigod in concern.

Dream and George stand facing each other in the large cleared circle located close by the usual camp fire pit. An area that is known for the cheerful banter and chants of young demigods to relieve stress has now become the epicenter of a brewing storm.

Many campers steer away from the two as sparks fly. Yet a few nosy campers can’t help but be drawn to the tension like moths to a flame.

Tommy pulls Tubbo to the edge of the clearing completely ignoring the other’s protests.

Tubbo digs his feet into the hard dirt ground yet it proves useless. He whispers through his grit teeth in a growing mixture of apprehension and irrability, “Tommy! What are you doing?”

Tommy ignores his best friend’s worry in favor of pulling them both to plop down onto one of the many stationed wooden logs near the clearing, “Look at them Tubbo!”

Tubbo swallows doing just that. He has never seen either of his seniors look so angry.

George has his eyebrows furrowed so intensely it appears painful. His face is already masked in a deep red flush of fury and exasperation. His fists rest at his side shaking, struggling to hold back. His lips are pulled into a sneer that unsettles Tubbo to his core. George has always been one of the calmer presences at camp. He helps guide everyone from training to inner turmoils of identity crisis. He is their rock.

To see him so aggravated is jarring.

On the other side of the clearing stands Dream, about fifteen feet away from George. His right foot is planted forward in warning. His fists remain at his side. Dream has always had more of a temper than George. Well, specifically with things concerning George. Seeing those piercing fierce green eyes narrowed at George instead of a monster from tartarus feels inherently wrong.

Tommy elbows him, “This is gonna be the show of the fucking century! Can’t wait to see how the power couple is in a fight against each other!”

Tubbo grimaces, “Just....be ready to run. We might be in the line of fire.”

Tommy nods eyes brimming with excitement, “Isn’t it great!”

Tubbo rolls his eyes, “Ares kids, always ready for a brawl.”

Tommy looks at Tubbo from the corner of his eye, “I agree Tubbo. It’s bloody awful your parent is Hephaestus.” Tommy shudders in disgust.

Tubbo opens his mouth but quickly shuts it. This argument is as old as time. Nothing will change Tommy’s stubbornness. Tubbo has learned not to waste his energy.

A large pair of arms drape themselves around Tubbo and Tommy’s shoulders. Both boys jump in alarm throwing their heads back abruptly.

They’re met with a disappointed expression painted on Wilbur’s face. Wilbur studies Tubbo’s guilty face and Tommy’s challenging one. He sighs, “what in the hell are you two doing here? The entire camp is practically huddled away for safety.”

Tommy smirks, “Damn cowards. I’m not missing this.”

Wilbur purses his lips. His eyes drift away from the kids to watch the growing danger in front of them. Wilbur mutters under his breath noticing the air around Dream crackle while by George the close by lake laps choppily. A current forms in the water, “this is incredibly irresponsible.”

Tubbo finds himself agreeing. Wilbur stands as quietly as possible. He takes the strap of the lyre he had been holding in his right hand, tossing it over his head so the instrument rests safely on his back.

To Tommy’s displeasure Wilbur slots himself on the log between Tubbo and Tommy effectively seperating them. Tubbo raises an eyebrow in surprise, “you’re staying Wilbur?”

Wilbur doesn’t meet his gaze too busy studying the couple in front of him, “someone has to keep an eye on you nutjobs.”

Tommy grumbles under his breath at the insult.

George flexes his mouth. Heterchromatic eyes, one brown the other a deep blue return the piercing gaze directed at him. He stands strong, unwavering. This only serves to irritate his boyfriend further based on the deep frown etched into sun kissed skin. Normally George would want to brush it away. However now he’d rather smack it off without a care.

No words are uttered yet a thousand emotions are conveyed.

A few other stragglers wandering the camp take notice to the encounter. Quackity squeals throwing an arm around Sapnap to drag him towards the log where the other demigods sit.

Quackity yanks Sapnap onto the log beside Tubbo. He rubs his hands together in anticipation, “Oh, this is gonna be so good! I wish I had popcorn.”

Sapnap blinks in alarm processing his best friends’ expressions. His mouth gapes open in disbelief, “Holy shit. I’ve never seen them like this.”

This causes a ripple of various reactions. Sapnap has known Dream and George longer than anyone else at camp. If he says they’re doomed, they’re doomed.

Tommy and Quackity perk up immensely while Tubbo and Wilbur shrink away from the scene.

Sapnap keeps his eyes glued onto Dream and George. His fingers start to fiddle with the back of his bandana for comfort, “this can’t end well.”

Tubbo sits forward looking at Sapnap’s pained expression. He exhales slowly, “Rip our camp grounds.”

George and Dream don’t even acknowledge the little crowd observing them. They’re completely caught in a world where only the two of them exist. No other distractions.

A usual blissful etherial world storing their favorite memories has been tainted by the sour aura.

Noticing a particular strong pulse of electricity dance along Dream’s left hand George snaps. The damn breaks through with a vengeance.

His voice drips with venom, “I’m going.” It’s said with all the finality in the world. Not a soul should dare defy it. Except for the one in front of him.

Dream flexes his fingers in a repeated motion trying to push back his swirl of emotions showing themselves in the electricity dancing along his palms. He grits his teeth, “No, you’re fucking not.” His glare deepens as George remains unmoving. He continues, “You almost died last time.”

A spite rises from George’s core. Crawling its way from the pits of his stomach to wrap around his heart heading to its final destination, climbing up his throat. Letting the anguished feeling release itself George shouts in defiance, “That’s not your choice to make!”

George fails to notice the tug of the water behind him growing in volume. The detail is not lost on anyone else watching.

George takes a step forward planting his foot firmly, “I’m going! You have no right to deny me.”

Dream growls barely able to stop himself from stomping over to grab his boyfriend throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. To prevent himself from locking George away in the deepest caverns of the camp no matter how much George will hate him for it. His shoulders tense in resolution, “I have no choice.”

George shakes. He glowers at Dream in disbelief, a blaze kindling itself deep within, “How is that fair? You say this as if you don’t intend to do the same.” His eyes narrow, “You want to selfishly put me through the same pain alone. I’ll be worried sick if I’m not with you.”

His expression softens slightly watching the increasing confliction store itself onto Dream’s face. He holds onto the thread of hope, “We’re safer together.”

Dream feels his stance waver against his will. Everything George says is punched with the air of truth. No lies are laced in his words.

This fact is not enough to combat Dream’s mind. This is not up for debate. Large, brighter bits of lightning crackle in his hands sparking forward to dance along his forearms in warning. His temper has always been one of his worst qualities.

In the distance Quackity’s eyes are widened. He sits forward in his seat along with a grimacing Sapnap. Tubbo kicks Tommy’s foot reading his friend’s body language. If Wilbur didn’t have him in a vice hold Tommy surely would have dove in head first to the fight. His battle against the nature he inherited from his godly parent is a lost cause. The blood thirst makes itself glaringly obvious as to his heritage.

The couple continues to ignore their friends as if they are mere specks of dust floating aimlessly in the air.

George stares at the lightning encasing his boyfriend’s arms. The arms that usually hold him in sweet embrace. How dare he face him like this!

George’s eyes dart back and forth between Dream’s face and his arms. George’s shoulders rise in anger. He glares vehemently, a deep dark tug pulls at his soul. A feeling he has become quite accustomed to over the years. A feeling he has called upon multiple times to protect his loved ones on quests and even threats along the edges of camp.

He knows it’s wrong for him to latch onto the feeling. Yet this time he is too weak to fight it. The water from the lake behind him rises in volume causing several water sprites to swim further away to avoid being sucked along with it. The wave of swirling water hovers over the ground escaping the confines of the natural hole carved into the earth. Not a single droplet falls. George has complete control of it.

Which is utterly amazing.

Dream’s eyes widen watching George’s face twist. He knows his love through and through. He can tell George has no idea of the present massive wave that’s forming behind him. Sometimes George’s power shakes him to his very core. An aspect that makes George all the more beautiful in his eyes.

Dream shakes his head pushing the thoughts away. It doesn’t matter how strong George appears. Not after the accident.

George is small in comparison to Dream. Causing the other to coin him with endearing nicknames such as pipsqueak and shortstack.

Yet in this moment George’s essence overpowers everyone’s in the near vicinity. He is a force to be reckoned with.

“You...” George seethes. “You aren’t listening to me”. His eyes show anguish accompanied with a hint of pleading.

Dream stands his ground, “I’m not changing my mind and that’s final. You are not going.”

The wave behind George morphs closer to a swirling whirlpool. Nearly all of the lake has been drained causing the inhabitants to be deeply displeased of the behavior of their favorite demigod. His reckless behavior is striking.

The shadow of the water looms over George covering him, “You, you fucking asshole!”

Dream frowns feeling a ping of pain echo in his chest. He’s not used to having such anger directed at him. Not from George.

George’s hands rise from his sides to his waist. They continue to shake. George’s lips are thinned in resentment, “You are being so selfish.”

His hands tug at his hair, “It’s like I don’t even know who you are!”

The words ring in Dream’s head like the toll of a bell. A bell that wishes to bash his brain and heart to pieces. His lightning weakens along with the fight in him. How, how can he recover from that?

George screams in annoyance. The foreign sound rips itself from his throat like the dying anguished cry of a warrior. Dream feels his heart sink while his knees beg to buckle.

Pained expressions paint their friends’ faces. Even Tommy finds himself leaning into Wilbur for comfort.

George snaps, he shoves his hands off his head in a sweeping motion directed dead ahead on Dream.

The massive wave of water soars through the air at an alarming speed. There’s been plenty of times in battle Dream thought he was going to die. To knock on good old Hades’ doorstep.

Yet watching the body of water hurl towards him at an intense rate trumps every other fear he’s experienced on the battlefield.

Dream works on pure instinct. He summons a bout of wind to encase him protecting him slightly from the force of the crashing water.

It absorbs some of the blow yet not enough to keep him on his feet. Dream’s lungs burn as he refuses them air focused on pushing his way through the water.

The wave smashes him to the ground in a sickening squelch leaving him shivering in a large puddle. The water continues to lap on the ground around his body threateningly. Dream takes a large gulp of air. Unfortunately for him fighting George isn’t to his best advantage. Shooting lightning into a body of water heading straight for him serves little help. His body can withstand high voltage shocks. However water acts as an amplifier. His own lightning has wicked high energy. To have it turned against him is a dangerous play.

Dream struggles to pull himself from the ground into a sitting position. No matter what he can’t let George win this fight. Everything depends on it.

George pauses staring at Dream washed like a fish out of water on the ground. Every bit of his being yearns to rush forward. To grab Dream by his shoulders and inspect every inch of him in worry. A deep harsh pain wrecks havoc on George knowing he is the cause of Dream’s current state.

He watches Dream wobble to stand up like a newborn fawn. His resolve hardens as he watches the familiar tell tale lightning spark along Dream’s skin. He knows this lightning.

To George it barely differs from Dream’s usual lightning. Due to George’s colorblindness he’s always struggled to tell the difference. However over the years he’s grown to learn the contrast. Normally blue lightning signifies higher voltage. Yet for Dream his lightning displays itself not in blue but a striking green. Marking him unique from the several previous offspring of Zeus. It’s something that softens George’s heart. Something purely Dream.

So, seeing this lightning pointed towards him solidifies his goal. Dream is serious. He’s giving his everything. George can’t afford to hold back.

George wills his voice to life, “See, I can defend myself perfectly fine!”

Dream’s glare hardens causing George to flinch back in surprise. Dream scowls, “Darling I didn’t want to do this but you’ve brought me no choice. You’ve pushed it too far.”

George is frozen rooted to the ground taking in the waves of rage emitting from Dream.

George forces himself to speak. He must remain strong. He focuses his energy to cling onto Dream’s furious nature feeding George’s defiance. His previous anger is revived, “Oh fuck you.”

Dream suddenly rips off a golden band from his finger. A ring, etched with George’s name and the greek symbols for eternal love. The day George placed the ring onto Dream’s finger was one of the happiest, if not the happiest days of his life. It meant more than the typical mortal signification. Demigods hardly live past the age of twenty. At ages nineteen and eighteen the pair feel themselves constantly pushing their luck.

The rings signify, a promise, a dream. That they will do everything in their power to make it a reality. To live, to survive long enough to get married. To maybe one day escape the treacherous cycle of fighting monster after monster and completing quest after quest. A promise to will a life to grow old together.

All these thoughts wash over George leaving him a mixture of completely overwhelmed while somehow accompanied by a growing numbness.

Dream flips the ring high in the air. The sun catches shimmering it like a beacon. Midway the ring transforms into a double edged golden sword with a tip sharpened menacingly. Dream catches the grip with a practiced easy. The hilt of the sword fits comfortably in his right hand. He is one with his sword. It acts as an extension of his body.

George stares at the tip of the sword pointed at him in bewilderment. His own shaky hands secure around his silver ring similarly etched with Dream’s name. He fumbles it pulling it away in a swift motion. The ring dutifully flips elegantly high in the air. Mid flip it transforms into a beautiful titanium single edged sword. It’s smaller than Dream’s. However if it was the same size it would not be suitable for George.

Dream’s weapon of choice is strong, never wavering. In contrast George’s frequently changes between his sword and a sharp twisted dagger he has used several times to slice unsuspecting throats. He gains no pleasure from killing. Unfortunately in this world it’s either kill or be killed. He refuses to die.

They face each other both chests rising rapidly in anticipation for what is about to happen.

Dream makes the first move. He sweeps his sword in an arcing manner starting from his waist to finish by his shoulder in a fluent motion.

Summoned along with the slice is a strong blustering wind.

George throws his hands up while also using his sword to block. He’s pushed back several feet close enough to the edge of the now shallow lake he nearly falls in.

With a slight misstep trying to fix his stance he almost does just that, teetering on the edge dangerously. George instinctually calls upon the remaining lake water to shove himself forward. It happily obeys.

George realizes he may have overshot the force of the water as instead of righting himself he’s flung forward in the air towards Dream as if he weighs nothing.

Dream’s eyes widen in alarm battling the inner turmoil to either raise his sword in defense or rush forward to catch his flailing boyfriend that was just catapulted twenty feet high.

Recognizing his hesitance George takes full advantage of it. There’s no time to think on the battle field. You have to make split second decisions. Otherwise you’re as good as dead.

George rights his sword in position so it will come down on Dream’s inevitable block with as much force as possible. He also makes sure to bend his legs slightly to absorb the impact on the ground. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem as he intends to make Dream take the brunt of the impact softening his descent.

George emits a battle cry. Dream yanks his sword upward with both hands firmly on the grip in front of his face just as George swings making contact.

The clash causes both of them to push away from each other. George stumbles weakly. His arms shake. Dream’s block caused some of the power to course in return on George’s end leaving tremors.

Dream breathes harshly. The air around him zaps with energy. His eyes are blown open wide staring at George. Dream looks at him as if he’s the most interesting thing to grace the earth.

Any other time George would find it endearing. His chest heaves waiting for Dream’s next move. George is still recovering, now is Dream’s chance.

Quick as the wind Dream rushes forward. George nearly fails to raise his sword in time to parry Dream’s sword away from his face now pointing over his shoulder. He grits his teeth keeping a strong hold on his sword to keep Dream at bay. It’s excruciating.

The noise doesn’t register until the tree behind him lights ablaze with fire causing several nymphs to scream in horror.

Dream locks eyes with him apologetically. George simply stares. A bolt of lightning had shot forward from the tip of Dream’s sword when he jabbed. George has no idea how severe it was but the fire engulfed tree behind him hints towards the more powerful scale.

The attack makes George realize Dream is losing control. His anger is taking the better of him. No. George pushes back against Dream. It’s not his anger getting the better of him. It’s his desperation.

George pushes with all his might against Dream. It’s a losing battle. There’s no getting around it. In a battle of swords Dream is stronger. This leaves George only one choice.

George bursts the name out abruptly, “Honey!”

It’s said with so much urgency Dream freezes. His instincts rise on edge screaming one phrase over and over again. Protect George. Protect George.

George only calls him like that when he’s in danger. When he knows he can’t defend himself. It’s a rare occurrence. Dream’s senses screech to a halt. His hands falter.

George uses it as an escape. He ducks under Dream’s arm. Using the blunt end of his sword he knocks it against Dream’s shoulder creating distance between them as Dream is pushed forward from the impact.

Dream whirls around eyes wild. His voice is grounded and unwavering. It reminds George of the oracle, “You’re being unreasonable Georgie. Stop this, stop fighting me”.

Dream stalks forward like he’s cornering prey. George believes that’s exactly what Dream is doing.

George takes a deep breath. Dream steadily advances. George takes careful steps back eyes transfixed on Dream.

He has to break through to him. He can feel Dream losing himself to the madness. George has only seen Dream like this a total of three times in his life. Each and every time George was there to anchor him.

His usual tactic is to coax Dream with loving comforting words.

However seeing as in this situation Dream is the one fighting George he believes it’s better to go the harsh route. Dream hates the jaded words George directs at him. They’ll either spur him on further or awaken him from the haze from pure agony. It’s a dangerous gamble. George has no choice but to take it.

The words are genuine yet hold less resentment than they previously did. George tries to call upon his rage again. The rage is every bit real. He’s infuriated at Dream’s current behavior. It should be no problem to make his words a blazing scalding enthralled truth. He takes a deep breath centering himself. The words are punctured with infuriation, “Fuck you.”

Dream halts in his advancement tilting his head. His body stares at George reaching out to ask if he seriously just insulted Dream without any hesitation.

George continues gaining courage from Dream’s pause. He allows the words that he’s bottled up since the beginning of this fight to spew freely, “I’ve proven myself so many times in this camp over and over again prophecy after prophecy.”

Dream frowns. His lips point downward. A crease formed from his furrowed eyebrows rests on his forehead. If the expression wasn’t so filled with sorrow George would equate it with a pout.

Dream remains unmoving. He’s an open book. Straining himself to move forward yet failing. Tension rolls off him. He hates hurting George, making him upset.

George opens his mouth to continue sensing he’s on the right path.

Without warning Dream slams his eyes shut. George studies him unsure if this is a good sign or not.

Dream open his eyes. They show a gain of clarity. George feels himself pout acknowledging Dream looks at him with determination. The determination to go against everything George has said.

Dream huffs, fingers tapping the grip of his sword to bring himself back to reality, “I-“

He stares at George’s downtrodden expression. Looking away he continues, “I know you have, I’m not saying you’re weak.”

The easy out cowardice Dream takes by not meeting his eyes angers George further. George steps forward now on the attack, “Look at me.” It’s a command.

Dream tears his eyes away from the ground meeting George’s apprehensively. It’s as he expected. George’s eyes are narrowed in displeasure, challenging Dream to aggravate him further. To overstep in a way that will cause a titanium sword to be lodged comfortably between his ribs. It’s achingly beautiful in its fatal threat.

George rights his sword in front of him prepared to attack. In response Dream fixes his stance in right position, sword leveled at George’s chest.

Water droplets rise from the ground shifting into shapes mirroring daggers. Dream isn’t sure if it’s a conscious effort on George’s part but it prompts him to reignite his lightning. This fight is certainly a show of stamina in their abilities.

The water daggers fling themselves at Dream’s face. One grazes the edge of his cheekbone causing an elongated cut to stretch along his skin. Blood beads together escaping at the seam. With enough power behind it water can be as dangerous as the blade of a sword. Dream twists his sword back and forth to collide with the water daggers causing them to burst away. Molecules split by imperial gold.

George is nimbly approaching him, sword raised all the way up to his shoulder in a position mirroring a javelin. Unable to continue to face the water daggers along with the looming threat of George’s advancing figure Dream summons intense electrical energy to travel along his body. The water daggers evaporate not making it past a five inch radius of his skin.

George glares watching Dream overcome his diversion.

He continues forward sword raised. Quick on his feet George is within a foot or so from Dream. He makes a desperate jab at Dream’s rib cage which is promptly parried to the side. George’s goal is to tire Dream out. He’s no idiot, he knows he can’t win.

His breath is labored as he goes for another hack now aimed at Dream’s neck, “If you’re not saying I’m weak than what are you trying to say?”

The force of the block causes sparks to fly. The clanging sound from the clash echoes throughout the clearing.

It’s a mistake on George’s part. He’s beginning to get sloppy. His entire torso is exposed due to Dream trapping his sword in a battle for power.

Noticing this Dream suddenly thrusts George’s sword away while simultaneously hooking his foot behind George’s ankle. George doesn’t stand a chance.

He hits the ground hard knocking the air out of him. His lungs heave in protest on top of the earlier exertion. His eyelids grow heavy demanding rest. George ignores it in favor of keeping his eyes open to stare at the ones four inches away.

Dream has him caged on the ground. George’s sword is discarded a foot or so away from his reach. Dream’s own sword lays to his side. Large wrists encase George’s forcing them to remain slammed on the ground on either side of his head. Dream’s knees rest firmly on George’s calves pinning him to the ground. George scrambles to find a way to escape his current predicament.

They’re so close together their breaths mingle. George can’t help himself from losing all train of thought staring into Dream’s green eyes. Dream flits his glance downward, locking onto George’s pink lips.

Dream looks like a dying man. Not allowed to take what is normally his. He studies George’s freckles that have always reminded him of moon dust. Since the first day he got close enough to see them he promised to treasure them.

The words come naturally, “Because I love you idiot!”. He frowns, his hands tighten around George’s thin wrists, “Do you know how hard it is to watch you put yourself in constant danger?”

George stares at Dream with widened eyes. His face slowly starts to contort, a broken laugh escapes his lips making Dream frown.

George smiles, “Hate to break it to you love but we’re demigods, danger is our way of life”.

His eyes dance in amusement.

Dream can’t meet their mirth. He tightens his hold on George’s wrist causing George to scrunch his eyes in pain.

Dream grits his teeth, “No, you go out of your way. You’re-“

He takes a deep breath staring into George’s eyes seeing his reflection mirrored in them. Dream hates the face he sees, the scowl, the agitation in his creased brows. This isn’t him. He hates what George is seeing. He loosens his grip, “You’re still too reckless.”

George narrows his eyes in defiance. He curls his hands into fists, “You don’t get to say that.”

Dream opens his mouth to respond but George jerks his body underneath him effectively shutting him up, “The guy who jumped off a fucking cliff to ride a wild venti while I was screaming at the top of my lungs does not get to say that! The only water I could bend was my own tears!”

Tears gather along George’s bottom lashes. Dream’s heart aches watching them trail down his cheeks.

He’s so focused on George’s pained expression he completely misses the movement. George shakes his right leg loose, ramming his knee directly into Dream’s stomach.

Dream lets go of George’s wrist clutching his stomach as it pulses with waves of pain from the contact. George shoves him away, rolling out from under Dream.

Struggling to stand again George wipes at his eyes furiously willing the tears to stop.

Dream coughs harshly while rising from the ground. He’s red in the face, expression strained, “I had it under control.”

George throws his hands up in the air in utter disbelief. He throws a hand towards the group sitting on the log a few feet away causing all of them to flinch. George points yet never faces away from Dream, “yeah right if Sapnap hadn’t called his stupid metal dragon to catch your dumbass you’d be dead!”

At the mention of his dragon Sapnap injects himself into the argument. He shouts, “Hey! That ‘stupid’ Dragon saved our lives mutiple times during that quest.” He crosses his arms grumbling in annoyance from the lack of respect directed towards his greatest creation and friend.

George whips his head around making intense eye contact. Sapnap jumps meeting his gaze.

Dream also directs his attention towards Sapnap. No softness is shown. Only strong irritation.

Both speak simultaneously voices filled with displeasure.

“Not the time Sapnap”.

“Butt out Sap”.

Sapnap glares at them not entertaining a response. It wouldn’t matter seeing as they both forget the others within seconds. Eyes once again locked in a fight for dominance.

George’s eyes dart to where his sword lies across the clearing. He curses under his breath, “damnit”. He should’ve tried to snatch it while he was rolling. Now there’s no way he’ll get close to his weapon. Not with Dream guarding it.

Dream managed to grab onto his sword. He holds it steadily. They stand dead still.

George flexes his hands calling upon the familiar tug. His energy is dissiapiating yet he still has some left.

George exhales shakily. Dream readies his stance confused at George’s actions.

George pauses. His eyes dart down his body meeting black skinny jeans. Relief courses through George as he sees this is his pair with pockets. Across the field he notices his sword begin to shimmer. It appears translucent against the backdrop. A couple more seconds and the enchantment should kick in.

Dream interrupts his thoughts. It’s soft, warm with familiarity, “George...”

George stares at the ground refusing to grant Dream his undivided attention.

He hears Dream shuffle forward hesitantly, “Babe, come on can’t we just....forget about this? Let’s just take a breather.”

George feels a familiar weight settle in his pocket. Perfect. He lifts his head slowly, “I-.”

George bites his lip bashfully, “You’re right.”

Dream brightens as a wide smile takes over his face. He brushes a hand through his sandy hair ruffling it in nervous relief. The tension in his shoulder dissolves. His sword lowers to rest by his side.

Dream opens his arms wide, invitingly.

George smiles walking forward slowly. His right hand brushes against his jeans. Half way there he swiftly reaches inside his pocket grabbing the object of interest.

George feels a slight ping of disappointment of how easily his boyfriend is deceived. Then again, George has never needed to deceive him prior to this.

Dream lets his sword drop to widen his hug. To make sure George can safely be in his embrace, “See we can work this out. I know you’ll agree with me eventually. You’ll understand.”

George forces down the growl that begs to escape his lips. The rippling swirl of emotions are suppressed by shear will power. He fakes a smile.

This is worth it. Dream’s guard is down. He’s vulnerable, open.

George’s smile switches to a grin as he shifts the object between his palm and fingers. The metal heats up from the friction.

Dream’s smile falters, his eyes widen in recognition as George flips the ring into the air. The sun reflects it causing it to twinkle like a star. George jumps in the air with a running start as the ring transforms into a sword. He grips his sword firmly pulling it close to his chest.

Dream drops his arms, bending down to retrieve his own sword with clumsy hands. The entire time he mumbles a continuous stream of “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...”

George runs forward cutting through the air with his sword aimed at Dream’s chest.

Dream barely manages to dodge. He drops down bending his knees. George’s sword swipes over his head. A single blond strand flutters to the ground.

Dream pushes off the ground in a graceful somersault creating distance between himself and George.

His legs scream in protest as his feet hit the ground roughly. He struggles to stand. George is already charging at him again.

Dream commands himself to meet George head on. Ignoring the pain pulsing through his legs. Through training and battle he’s gotten pretty good at ignoring his injuries.

Their swords meet in a dance side by side. Sparks fly lightning up their faces with brilliance. Both of their arms shake at the exertion. Muscles straining from fatigue.

Dream takes the connection of their swords to his advantage. He summons a wave of electricity from his arm to his sword. George doesn’t have the time to retract his own sword. The lightning crackles with heat transferring from George’s sword to his arm sending intense jolts into his skin.

George gasps in pain. His arm feels numb. Dream swipes his sword in an arc. The titanium sword smacks out of George’s now rendered useless hand, flying several feet away. Dream knows he has to make this quick before the enchantment kicks in returning George’s ring to his pocket.

George stumbles back, desperate to create distance from Dream. His left arm hangs loosely to his side. He debates attempting to call upon the water on the ground before it dries ruining his last attempt of attack.

During this Dream hurries to jog over to George’s sword. He snatches it flipping it into the air to transform to the ring. He proceeds to slip it onto his pinky finger. George’s hands are much smaller than his. Dream’s pinky is the only finger able to fit George’s ring. By wearing the ring it will prolong the time limit of the enchantment.

Not giving George a moment of reprise to react Dream rushes to line himself with George’s body. Dream touches the ground sending a low voltage lightning racing forward. The lightning climbs up George’s torso effectively paralyzing George’s legs. A scream of agony involuntarily rips itself from George’s throat.

Dream flinches. Every second of this fight is pure torture. Dream has to fight his mind brutally trying to convince it the pain he’s inflicting on George is necessary. That being said, it doesn’t make it any easier. Hurting George makes spikes drive themselves through Dream’s soul. The pain he’s causing George should be targeted at himself tenfold. To pain the love of his life should result in eternal damnation. Yet a deep part of Dream’s soul agrees this is better than having George dead. To keep him alive and breathing.

George struggles gesturing his functioning hand to point at the ground increasing its elevation at a gradual pace. The water soaked ground laps up in response. Obeying the call. Little water droplets begin to hang in the air around George. He puts all his strength into changing their circular shape into one of the earlier daggers. The droplets shift in attempt. George groans watching them remain in circular form. His energy is gone. There’s nothing left for him to do. Paralyzed from the waist down with one arm useless and no water abilities George is at Dream’s mercy.

Dream walks forward to George. His footsteps echo misery. An intense frown is etched into Dream’s face. George stares at Dream with a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow. Even after all Dream has done to him, George can’t help the seed of worry that makes itself present in George’s heart. He loves Dream no matter what. No matter how much Dream frustrates him. He’ll never forget the warm embraces, loving gentle touches, deep passionate kisses, and pure love struck goofy smiles thrown his way. Dream is George’s world, what kept him going all these years. No longer alone in a world out to kill him since he was a child. Dream saved George.

The thoughts race through his head as George watches Dream approach him. Although he’s paralyzed physically George feels his frozen stature would remain in any scenario whether physical or emotional.

The touch pulls George out of his internal dialogue. Dream’s fingers brush along his cheek like a phantom. A thumb traces George’s freckles in admiration. George’s breath catches in his throat.

The voice is laced with pain as Dream cups his face, “George I’m begging you. Hurting you is ripping my soul to pieces. I hate arguing, fighting with you.”

George leans into the touch. His words are but a whisper, “So do I.”

Dream smiles weakly, thumb continuing to stroke George’s face, “So let’s stop.”

George nods slowly. He knows his next words are going to shatter the moment into a million pieces but he can’t stop himself, “So I’m going with you right?”

Dream freezes his caresses. His body goes stiff. The singular word he emits holds all the ferocity in the world, “No.”

His lips thin while his eyes narrow causing the sides to crinkle in distress, “Absolutely not.”

Another bout of aggravation screams lodged in the back of George’s throat. He swallows it.

Tingles prick George’s left arm as his blood begins to flow again. George looks away from Dream’s sudden angered expression to stare at Dream’s feet.

With all his might George calls upon tendrils of water to curl around Dream’s ankles tethering him to the ground. George reaches up with both hands yanking Dream into him. The motion forces Dream’s sword to clatter to the ground. Dream slams into his chest causing both of them a bout of pain.

George shakes. He licks his lips. Dream’s bewildered eyes follow the motion like a hawk. George tightens his grip on Dream’s collar, “You listen to me. We go hand and hand. Dream and George. Based on our godly parents we should hate each other but we overcame that.” His lungs convulse from the sudden demand of air. George continues, “I fell in love with a stupid blond lightning magnet. We’ve done everything together since we were twelve. So don’t think one serious death scare can push me away. You can’t-“
His breath hitches staring into Dream’s tormented eyes, “You aren’t leaving me behind. I won’t let you.”

Dream takes a deep breath eyes enthralled with George’s. His body shakes, “George that wasn’t any death scare. You were in a coma for a month.”

George widens his eyes in surprise. Everyone in camp had refused to tell him how long he was out insisting it no longer mattered cause he was awake.

Dream reaches forward arms resting gently on George’s waist seeking comfort. His voice aches, “Ambrosia did nothing and water refused to heal you. The Gods couldn’t even promise me that you would wake. It was the worst month of my life. Everyday without you, the food began to taste blander and blander. Color faded from my world just as much as the color drained from your face. There were days Sapnap had to forcefully pull me from your bedside.”

Dream’s hands tighten to firmly, desperately, grip George’s waist afraid he’ll dissolve into nothingness, “I can’t. I can’t go through that again. It’ll kill me.”

A shiver wracks through George’s body. A guilt crawls along George’s body spreading to every corner. He stumbles on his words, “...I didn’t mean too. I-“

Dream cuts him off, “I know you didn’t.”

George bites his lip drawing blood. His thoughts fly a mile a minute grasping for a coherent sentence, “But Dream... I’ve always been safest by your side. I can’t remember a time you left me. Not since our first quest. I can’t understand why you’re fighting me on joining this prophecy when you know the safest place in the world for me is next to you.”

Dream’s eyes follow the blood gathering on George’s bottom lip. He subconsciously swipes it causing a dash of vibrant red to paint his finger.

“I would have agreed with that. Until...until the last quest.” Dream’s shoulders rise in tension. “I failed. I failed you George. I failed to save you.”

George restrains from laughing in his boyfriend’s face in the serious moment. See, the notion is ridiculous to George. Dream could never fail him, never has. He reaches up ruffling Dream’s hair, “It’s kind of hard to fight the literal earth. The accident is on me. It was my clumsiness that caused it. I am to blame. No one else. Not you.”

Dream’s fingers dig into his ribcage. They drive into George like daggers. The desperate look is back on Dream’s face. George is quickly coming to hate it. The desperation doesn’t belong there.

Dream is tense yet unwavering. He hasn’t changed his mind, “No more prophecies.”

George decides to steer the conversation in a new direction, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the prophecies haven’t exactly spared me. I’ve been called on more of them than I can count on my hands.”

Dream scowls, “It’s not fair.”

George smiles, “Tell that to the big man upstairs. Daddy.”

Dream gags at the word causing a chuckle from George.

Dream never wants to hear that word again. Not while talking about his father Zeus.

His disgust is quickly replaced by rage, “Why can’t they leave us alone? They’re literal Gods why do they need mortals, half bloods, to fight their battles?”

George jokes, “Careful they might hear you.”

Dream’s having none of it, “George there’s nothing funny about imagining you dying for those stupid selfish fuckers.”

George chokes in fear at the insult. Challenging the word of the Gods is as good as treason. It’s a habit George has tried to kick out of Dream for nearly a decade. It’s amazing how the Gods haven’t tossed Dream off olympus to plummet to his death.

The sky rumbles overhead with displeased lightning shooting across appearing to split the sky in two. Dream flips off the heavens sending a bolt of his own green lightning to crackle in the sky in defiance. Dream has never gotten along with his Godly parent. It’s something they’ve both accepted.

Dream returns his gaze to George. George stares up into the sky eyebrows furrowed in concern. Dream reaches forward grabbing onto George’s chin gently lowering his head so they’re making eye contact. The words flow like a calm stream, “At this rate I’m not even gonna get the chance to marry you.”

George flushes head to toe. Dream can feel the heat radiating off George’s face against his hand. A smirk graces Dream’s face. Flustering George is one of his favorite sports. He’s quite talented at it.

George’s embarrassment is evident against the blush, “You can’t just say that.”

Dream wheezes like a whistling tea kettle. George pouts watching him. Dream grasps the silver ring on his pinky. He carefully extracts it. He slips the ring onto George’s hand, “Babe, we’re literally engaged.”

George flushes once again. The weight of the ring on his finger causes intense relief to wash over him. The moment reminds him of Dream’s proposal from not under a month ago. With shaky hands George reaches forward to grasp Dream’s hand. His fingers hover over the golden ring that had reappeared on Dream’s finger. George’s eyes flick up to meet Dream’s gaze asking permission. Dream smiles warmly and nods. He slowly slides the golden ring off Dream’s finger. He fiddles it with his fingers, “I know.”

His hands stops shaking as determination takes over. George needs to return the gesture. To show he reciprocates Dream’s love. He pulls Dream’s hand towards his chest placing the ring on Dream’s finger. Neither of them pull away. They hold hands like that for several minutes enjoying each other’s touch.

George tries to step forward so he can rest his head against Dream’s chest. His knees immediately buckle still weak from the lightning zap. George glares at Dream.

Dream chuckles nervously, “Sorry about that”.

George huffs, “You better be.”

Dream carefully handles George conscious of his numb limbs so both their bodies are flush against each other with George’s face resting on Dream’s chest in content.

They hold each other once again happy in their own little world. The world that had briefly been torn apart by negative conflicting emotions is now returning to its peaceful nature.

George lifts his head off Dream’s chest. He pulls their face closes together so their foreheads touch, “Dream please understand. I know deep down you feel the same.”

Dream looks away. George stands on his tippy toes pecking the side of Dream’s mouth to get his attention. Dream quickly looks back eyes meeting George. George hums, “I love you~”

Dream flushes hands tightening around George’s waist, “Stop it.”

George pouts, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk, “I thought you love it when I say that?”

Dream frowns, confliction lines his face, “I do. And that’s exactly why I’m saying stop it.”

George smirks, “But it’s true, I love you Dreamy. My Dream.”

Dream shudders.

George knows he’s getting closer, “I wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else in the world than by your side. Do you really want to make me miserable?”

Dream grumbles, “You’re better miserable alive than dead.”

George roughly hits Dream’s chest with his fist. The pressure catches Dream off guard. George keeps his fist resting there as he speaks, “I’d kill myself.”

Dream’s eyes widen. He grabs onto George’s fist unaware of just how tightly he’s clutching it. George’s pale skin becomes impossibly paler at the pressure. All color is gone from Dream’s face making his freckles stand out prominently. “Take that back.”

George shakes his head unyielding, “A world without you isn’t worth living in.”

Dream looks pained. Frown lines override the usual smile ones that have made their home on Dream’s face.

George scowls in response. The ends of his lips point down to tartarus, “Don’t give me that look. You said the same thing five minutes ago.”

Dream goes to argue but bites his tongue.

George coaxes him again, “Plus won’t you miss my kisses? When I climb into your lap? Straddle you? When we snuggle by the fire? When you pepper my face and neck with kisses. All over my body. When you grab me and-“

Dream slams a hand over George’s mouth silencing him. He hisses, “Not out loud. That’s private.” His eyes meet the others for the first time during the ordeal. A threatening aura comes off Dream in waves. Tommy and Tubbo shudder. Quackity chokes on a piece of popcorn that mysteriously appeared at some point during the fight. Wilbur takes his hands off his lyre, which he moved back to his lap, rising in the air in a show of surrender. Sapnap merely smiles happy to see his friends at ease back to their normal selves.

George’s eyes dance with mirth. He licks Dream’s hand which covers his mouth in attempt to make Dream let go. Dream smirks, “After everything we’ve done you think licking me will make me grossed out?”

George gives him a disapproving look. He stabs Dream in the ribs causing Dream to wince. Using the distraction George slaps his hand away. His mood shifts to one of flirtation, “Oh trust me I know you like it.”

Dream gapes at George’s open forwardness. Wilbur slaps both his hands to cover Tommy and Tubbo’s eyes resulting in a string of curses and protest from Tommy’s end. Quackity whoops loudly with Sapnap joining the tail end of it.

At that moment Dream decides he’s had enough. Without warning he rushes forward scooping George up off the ground . He throws George over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As if he weighs less than a harpy’s feather.

George punches his back furiously in protest less than appeased, “Put me down!” Dream strolls past his friends carrying his thrashing boyfriend over his shoulder without a glance, ignoring all the looks thrown his way.

George continues to thrash not giving up his attempts of freedom. Dream fills with growing irritation. He takes a quick glance around camp. He feels a ping of guilt seeing it’s deserted. Perhaps George and he got a little carried away... In the future they should be more aware of the damage they are capable of wreaking.

Seeing as there’s no prying eyes Dream takes the chance to return George’s earlier flirtatious gesture. With George still squirming restlessly Dream squeezes his butt.

George instantly halts his flailing limbs. Dream can’t see his face but he just knows it’s aflame with a scarlet blush.

George squawks in indignation causing Dream to wince as the noise pierces his ear drums, “Are you really touching my ass right now? Asshole!”

Dream wheezes exhaling air in spurts. The banter is refreshing. Back to their normal. However Dream knows he can’t leave their fight open ended. They must establish a common ground.

Dream slides George down so they’re face to face. His arms hold onto George’s waist tightly. George’s arms are hooked around Dream’s neck and his legs are wrapped around Dream’s waist. He’s the human embodiment of a koala.

Dream searches George’s anxious face. He takes a deep breath. It’s said quietly, “okay.”

George raises an eyebrow while still holding onto Dream, “Okay?”

Dream takes a shakey breath, “You can come on the quest.”

George smirks. He doesn’t let Dream slip out of the argument so easily. He tilts his head teasingly, “Oh so I need your permission now?”

Dream glares squeezling him roughly.

George giggles as the squeeze causes a rack of tickles to course along his body, “Okay okay!” He giggles uncontrollably struggling to hold onto Dream, “Stop it I’m gonna pee!”

Dream smiles narrowing his eyes in amusement. He rubs his nose against George’s, “Piss baby.”

George fights against Dream’s ministrations long enough to form a contort, “Oh yeah sure as if you aren’t the reason that name exists in the first place.” The words hold no hostility.

They pause caught in a frame of time staring longingly at each other. Studying each other’s faces as if their memory is threatened to be wiped. George whispers gratefully, “Thanks Dream, I know this isn’t easy.”

Dream sighs giving in, “I still don’t like it but I see your point. It’s always been the two of us together. Splitting ourselves apart...isn’t the solution.”

Tears gather along George’s eyelashes. His voice is full with gratitude, “Thank you.”

Dream smiles wistfully, “Anything for you. It’s hard to deny you Georgie, I’m in love with you.”

This time George’s breath catches. His eyes dazzle at the proclamation. No matter how many times Dream repeats those words it hits George as if it’s the first time he said them. Honey oozes in his chest like ambrosia reminding him it can burn him alive. George wouldn’t mind if their love consumed his body in flames, “I’m in love with you too Dream. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

Dream smiles in awe. His eyes crinkle, “I know you will. I’ll fight to the ends of the earth for you.”

George snorts playfully, “Sap.”

Dream sqwuaks, “All these confessions and you pick on me for that? You’re just as guilty!”

George doesn’t reply simply smiling at Dream reverly. The words carry an implication, “Carry me to your cabin.”

Dream shifts his hands from George’s waist lower. He wiggles his eyebrows.

George slaps him, “Not for that you horny bastard. I want to get some comfy snuggles in on a bed before we go back to sleeping on the ground for Gods know how long.”

Dream nods resituating George making sure his arms are comfortably around Dream’s neck and legs on his waist again, “I can settle for some snuggles.”

George looks away staring at nothing in particular. He mumbles, “Well maybe we’ll see what happens.”

Dream perks up but tries to hide it. He whispers against the shell of George’s ear while continuing the path to his cabin, “I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat that?”

George groans loudly shoving his head to hide away in the crook of Dream’s neck. Dream laughs shaking George from the vibrations. George pouts but makes sure he’ll be heard, “I said we’ll see.”

Dream’s ecstatic to hear the words repeated, “Really!”

George snorts in amusement, “Really you big goofball.” He snuggles further into Dream’s neck.

Dream waltzes onward in content. He’s brimming with joy like the sun. Shining so bright one would be blinded to stare at him head on.

Finally the cabin comes into view. Originally Dream hated his cabin, Zeus’ cabin. It was cold and stiff. Large white columns being anything but friendly. The entire place felt hollow. And based on the small trinkets and pictures Dream found hidden under the mattress resting in a small nook of the room between two pillars he’d say the previous occupants felt the same.

Luckily, a certain someone also hated their barren cabin. From the very beginning George started to sneak into Dream’s cabin. He grabbed a hammock he had stolen from the Hypnos’ kids along with a soft pillow and blanket. The blanket was decorated with the swirling ocean’s clashing waves and dolphins jumping in the air. It was a supposed gift left behind in the Poseidon cabin by the last demigod to occupy it. George took comfort in the warm large fuzzy fabric that engulfed his body. It reminded him he’s not alone. Just like Dream, being a child of the big three carries a heavy lonely burden.

They served to be each other’s saving grace. Sharing sleepovers and stories late into the night Dream and George formed a deep unbreaking friendship. They were stuck at the hip leaving most of the campers to endlessly tease them. Within two months George had fully moved into the Zeus cabin to live with Dream. No one dared to challenge the decision.

Walking through the threshold of the cabin Dream glances around. The memories appear like shimmering images in action covering the surroundings. George helped him turn this cabin into a home. Something he’ll eternally be grateful for.

Dream walks forward to the middle of the room. As they got older and their relationship shifted into romantic territory Dream and George agreed to ditch the small single mattress and hammock in favor of a king sized bed. The bed lies in the middle of the room front and center. It’s made neatly with the covers pulled firm. Something Dream admires about George, he’s a neat freak.

Small even puffs of air dance along Dream’s neck. George must have dozed off on the way to the cabin. The fight having exhausted him.

Dream smirks mischievously. He tosses George unceremoniously on the bed. George’s body bounces at the force and his eyes fly open in alarm. Dream pounces on top of him hovering over George.

Dream’s eyes rake over George’s plump pink lips. The blood from earlier is already scabbed over. His cute button nose calls upon Dream to rub his nose against it in an eskemo kiss. Dream refrains in favor to gulp in the site of George’s freckles that remind him of moon dust. Finally his eyes meet George’s eyes. One a dark deep chocolate and the other a piercing dark blue. Something most would call an imperfection makes Dream all the more enraptured.

His chest blooms with fondness, “You’re beautiful.”

George tosses his head to the side burying his face into the silk covers. A flush climbs from his neck to his cheeks encasing his skin.

Dream grins at the reaction leaning in impossibly closer barring George from escape. His voice is sing songy, “George~”

George flinches under him pushing further into the mattress.

Dream’s breath dances along his face, “You’re beautiful.”

George closes his eyes willing away the rush of bashfulness attempting to take over him completely.

Suddenly an idea goes off in George’s head. He swallows his embarrassment turning his head back to face Dream.

Dream watches him surprised at the receding blush on George’s face.

George forms a smirk half heartedly, “So I’m told. Half the camp still can’t believe Aphrodite isn’t my godly parent”.

Dream’s body shakes as he laughs, wheezing uncontrollably. It’s a blessing George isn’t covered in a shower of spit based on Dream’s whooping bouts of air.

George quirks an eyebrow waiting for Dream to stop convulsing on top of him.

Dream lifts his right hand off the bed while remaining balanced. He wipes it along the corner of his eye where several tears of delight lie.

Having finally caught his breath Dream laughs rolling his eyes, “wow how modest.”

The words barely escape his mouth before George pulls Dream down by the locks of his golden hair. George’s eyes bare into Dream’s soul, “You’re just as beautiful.”

George brushes a finger along the side of Dream’s temple, “Sun kissed skin”, his fingers splay lower, “scatters of freckles like the stars,” a thumb pads along the corner of Dream’s eye, “green eyes that look yellow to me. Just like your lightning.”

George smiles lovingly, fully engrossed in all that Dream is, “My powerful boy.”

Dream gulps in response. It’s rare for George to shower him in compliments. Not that he doesn’t love Dream, he’s simply a more reserved person. To have such emotion filled words exchanged in one day is doing something to Dream’s heart. Making it flutter at the rate of a humming bird’s wings.

Dream’s eyes are glazed over, “Keep talking like that. You know I won’t be able to hold back.”

George smirks smugly. The teasing bratty nature is as clear as day. “Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.”

Dream closes his eyes groaning, “Georgeeee.”

George laughs airily at the reaction. He tugs Dream to meet his lips for a kiss. They melt into each other happy to engage in a warm embrace. It’s like a string has connected them together. Perhaps the string of fate.

George pulls away brushing their noses together, “Prove it.”

Dream frowns quizzically, not following, “Prove what?”

George doesn’t miss a beat, “Prove that you love me as much as I love you.”

Dream is more than ready to accept the challenge. He places both his hands against George’s face cradling him. They look into each other’s eyes. George feels his heart race rapidly in anticipation. The thrill never gets old. Dream slowly lowers himself. Their lips meet again. It starts slow but quickly becomes heated, passionate. George gasps as Dream pulls away several minutes later. Both their faces are flushed. Dream smirks dazzlingly, “Is that enough?”

George shoves him down roughly, “No, keep going.”

Dream begins to wheeze again at the action. George pouts smacking Dream’s cheek roughly in disapproval. He’s growing impatient. Dream pauses looking down at him, “Tell me you love me.”

George whines, “Dreammm”.

Dream laughs barely suppressing the start of another series of wheezes in favor of continuing the conversation. His mouth twitches switching between a smile and smirk, “You’ve already said it like five times today. Why so bashful now?”

George grumbles looking away. He takes a good twenty seconds or so to respond mulling over the question carefully. He wants to be entirely truthful. He meets Dream’s gaze again, “I don’t know....I feel vulnearble.”

Dream hums. His hands stay softly on George’s face. He holds the world in his hands, “I can say it. I’ll say it a million times. I love you George, my sunshine, my pipsqueak, little hurricane monster. I love you, I love you.”

George slaps him in the chest blushing furiously, “Okay okay I love you too.”

Dream pouts, “Well that didn’t sound too genuine.”

George glares at him. “You are a bastard, do you know that?”

Dream fakes a frown, “See that’s what I’m talking about. Not exactly an I love you.”

George sighs purposefully dramatic. A soft smiles graces his face, “I’m pretty sure I’ve stated it every way imaginable in the past hour or two but I’ll entertain you.”

Dream waits with bated breath.

George takes comfort in it, “Dream I love you with everything that I am.”

George nudges Dream playfully, “Like I said earlier you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

Dream smiles like the sun. He flops down on the bed effectively crushing George.

George squeals at the weight squirming, “Hey! Get off of me! You weigh like three times more than me. You’re crushing me to death!”

Dutifully Dream rolls off George hiding his snicker. Before George can continue his reprimanding Dream yanks him forward by his waist. He entangles their legs together. George stares at him. Dream smiles raising an eyebrow, “Snuggles, remember?”

George nods slowly. He gently places his head against Dream’s chest directly over his heart. The powerful rhythm of the beats lull George into a sense of comfort.

Dream tucks his chin on top of George’s fluffy hair. Their soft breaths dance along each other’s skin. They stay like that, intertwined long enough for the sun to set. Dozing together in each other’s presence. No prophecies, no quests, nor even the Gods can ever separate them. Nothing can, nothing will. Dream and George belong together and Gods does the entire world know it.