Kinda tired but my dnf mind won't let this go so here's an itty bitty drabble about DNF being soft and sweet and obsessed with each other.
Once the screen on his computer went black, the first thing George did was pick up his phone and call Dream. He smirked when Dream answered the FaceTime call on the first ring, but he knew if it was reversed and Dream called him, he'd answer just as fast.
"Hey, idiot," George's usual sass gave way to softness as he stood up and made his way over to his bed. He wanted to make a snarky comment about Dream's silence confirming George's superior Minecraft abilities, but right now, with Dream staring back at George like he hung the stars in the sky, George found himself speechless to say anything.
"Hey," Dream said, leaning back against his bed just like he had over three years ago for their first FaceTime calls. His hair was shorter now, and his face a little fuller, but the rest was identical. The eyes, the smile, the way the simplest of words dripped with affection whenever the two of them were connected this way.
George smiled and leaned against his own pillow, and the blue-green light from his lava lamp illuminated his face. "Hey."
"Good stream," Dream said, his fingers tracing the edge of the screen on his side in a way that George immediately recognized. Why wouldn't he, when George did the same to Dream's image on his own screen?
George sighed and let himself sink into his pillow. "Thanks," he said. "What was your favorite part?"
"Hmm," Dream hummed while his face flitted over the screen. "I mean watching you play Hytale was fun. Kind of nice to watch you play first and make all the mistakes so I can do even better when I stream it," he chuckled.
"Bro's taking advantage of my failure and he hasn't even tried to play yet," George rolled his eyes. "Just watch, you'll probably die after like five seconds and I'll still be better than you."
"Maybe," Dream shrugged, then propped his phone on his pillow.
A long comfortable silence settled between them that Dream was the first to break. "I was thinking about that handprint of yours."
"You were?" George propped his own phone on his pillow and reached towards his nightstand for the glazed clay imprint from almost 27 years ago. "You know, I was surprised to see it here when I walked in to stream. I think my mum was looking at it earlier. Ever since I got back to London, she's been really emotional."
"She probably missed you."
"Yeah," George's eyes glazed with tears while he turned the print over in his hands. He traced the tiny imprint with his much larger fingers, amazed at the difference. "I can't believe my hands were ever this small."
Dream sighed, then chuckled a little. "You know, the difference between your hand then and now is probably the same as the difference between our hands now."
"I don't know about that." George rolled his eyes while he continued to trace the outline before him. "I mean, you could see during the stream, how much bigger my hand is than this print."
"I did."
"And actually," George paused for a moment. "Since this was done two months before you were born, I think it's safe to say that when you were born, my hand was even bigger, and definitely bigger than yours."
"Yeah," Dream's lips turned up in a light grin. "For like, a year, your hands were bigger than mine."
"Oh, I think it was longer than that," George mused. "At least several years."
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
They both hummed, sighing against their respective pillows, connected by an invisible thread that linked them and their phones together.
"George?" Dream whispered.
George yawned, then blinked sleepily while he stared back at the face before him. "Yeah?"
"I miss you. A lot." Dream's eyes got a little glassy. "When are you coming home?"
"Soon," George replied.
"Ugh," Dream groaned. "Look at you, soon-ing me."
"You know," George yawned yet again. "You can always fly to London if you want."
"Don't tempt me." Dream whined a little. "But really though? Soon? Like in a week? Or a few days?"
"Yeah," George smiled. "And you'll pick me up from the airport, right?"
"Of course I will." Dream replied. "And I'll give you the biggest hug ever."
"And when we get home?"
"More hugs," Dream said. "Maybe even a kiss or two."
"Or three?"
"Or four."
George grinned sleepily. "Or five... Hundred."
"Yeah," Dream sighed, then turned his head and pressed his lips to the pillow he'd been laying on. "I love you, George."
George pressed his cheek into his pillow and imagined the pressure was Dream's lips against his skin. "I love you too."
