Can I be super boring and just give you sickfic as a prompt? 👀 (I wrote dickfic like 5 times which also works for me lmfao) Bonus points if George is sick hehe
Hi Honelle!! Here is a little slice of a sick fic. Sorry I used it to prove I can write something under 1K, but Chelsey thinks she's some kind of Machiavellian manipulator and so, you understand, I simply had to. And this prompt seemed easiest. 724 words.
If the sniffles took steroids and then cross bred with whooping cough—that’s the type shit that’s got George holed up in his bed, miserable.
“You should have taken the Emergen-C I got you,” Dream says, not helping, while he sits on the edge of George’s bed.
“Stupid,” George croaks out. “Your fault.”
“Yes, which is why I knew you should have taken the medicine, you big baby,” Dream says back. He’d already gotten sick and recovered, transferring his germs to George with their crazy mutation. Somehow, he feels worse than Dream ever did. He’s sure of it.
“I don’t feel good,” he says because sometimes you just gotta get it out. His head feels like someone pounded a nail into it and his throat is sandpaper.
“I know,” Dream says, voice quiet and empathetic. It’s everything George wanted. He just needed someone to hear him and to really get it. Dream gets it. “I’m sorry you’re feeling bad.”
George doesn’t respond. It’s not the kind of statement that needs a response. He’d sat with Dream for hours while he was sick, watching videos with him and bringing him soup. Though he blamed Dream earlier for getting him sick, the truth is that it’s his own fault for not being able to steer clear.
“I should let you get some rest,” Dream says in that way that people do when they’re trying to end a conversation, to sneak out without saying they’re done talking to you. George doesn’t want rest. He wants Dream.
He wants Dream to stay here and make the time pass faster, make the germs explode and give him back his health and vitality, give him a distraction so he can think about anything other than his own sickness.
“No, I just—just stay with me, Dream.” He pats the mattress, not in invitation, but an order he expects to be obeyed.
“You want me here?” Dream asks like he has to ask, like he needs the clarification.
“Always want you here.” Would he admit that if he weren’t feverish and high on cold meds? Maybe. Probably not.
But here they are. He can’t take it back. Especially not when he really means it.
“Good,” Dream says decisively. “Because I always want to be here. With you.”
They turn the television on, the one that George got from Dream—the same way his fingerprints are on everything in George’s life, up to and including the fact that he’s here in Florida in the first place.
He doesn’t think about while they find a video for Dream to cast from his phone. He winds up choosing Technoblade’s Potato War video, something that never fails to make George smile.
“Are you comfy?” Dream asks, his voice a rumble.
George thinks about it. He could be more comfortable, but he doesn’t want to overstep.
“Just do whatever you need, George,” Dream tells him, reading his mind.
“Can I lay on you?” George asks as he moves his head to rest on Dream’s chest before he even gets an answer.
“Always,” Dream says, bringing his arm around to hold George close.
It’s… intimate. They’ve never sat like this together. Cuddling. It’s intimate and it’s nice and George loves it.
Despite the headache and the way he coughs into Dream’s chest, it’s the most comfortable he’s ever been in his life, like Dream was made to be his pillow and George was made to be a weighted blanket and together they were forged to fit perfectly together.
Somewhere around the end of the second video, George feels his breathing fall into a pattern of sleep. He’s on the cusp, sleep bringing up her hands to gently lull him down. But he’s not all the way there. He’s awake to feel Dream’s lips place a delicate kiss on his forehead. He’s awake to feel the way Dream’s staring at him, like he’s taking him in. And he’s definitely awake to hear him speak.
“I love you like this,” Dream whispers against his skin. “I love you always, but I love this too. Please never stop wanting me like this.”
And then, Lady Sleep drags him just another inch further down, and he falls unconscious with a smile on his face and a promise in his heart.
He won’t stop wanting Dream. Ever.
And tomorrow he’ll tell him.
