A/N: Sorry for not updating, I just completely forgot, but anyways, here's a new chapter :)

George blinked his eyes open to the sunshine streaming in through the window. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to sit up and get out of bed. However, upon attempting to move, he found his waist restrained by Dream, who was still fast asleep, the sunshine reflecting off of his dirty blonde hair.

George rolled his eyes, placing a hand on Dream's arms and attempting to gently pry them off of him, but as much as he tried, Dream's grip proved firm and didn't let him budge at all. George considered shaking Dream awake, but he looked so peaceful in sleep that George decided against it.

He lied back down, facing Dream, who didn't seem to have stirred at all by George's efforts.

Figures. He stayed up pretty late last night.

George tried to shut his eyes and sleep for a little longer, but now that he was already awake, sleep evaded him with frustrating accuracy, and after a few minutes of tossing and turning with his eyes determinedly shut, he gave up, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling in pure boredom.

After a while, George turned on his side again to face Dream, who was still somehow asleep. He studied Dream's features; the soft curve of his nose, the sharper arch of his eyebrows, the freckles that dotted his cheekbones, the innocent delicacy of his lips. His eyelids were shut, so George couldn't watch the ever-changing depth of Dream's sea-green eyes, but he could still admire the soft waves of his dirty-blonde hair, the slightest of smile lines around his mouth that one could only see up close, the lightest of shades of pink that dusted his cheeks.

Dream's eyes blinked open. "You're not perving on me while I'm asleep, are you?"

George buried his face into his pillow, blushing furiously. "I was not!"

Dream smirked. "Sure you weren't." He said, shifting his position so his head was propped upon his hand.

"The ceiling was too boring to look at, and you wouldn't let go of me." George protested, looking back up at Dream from the corner of his eyes. Dream loosened his grip.

"There. Now you can leave."

George didn't move, and Dream grinned. "I knew you wouldn't move." He clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. "Excuses, excuses."

In one sweeping movement, George broke away from Dream's arms and moved so he was hovering about the blonde-haired boy, his arms holding himself up on either side of Dream's head. Dream was shocked into silence, and the previously faint dusting of pink became more prominent on his cheeks.

"G-george?" Dream stammered. George put on his best smirk and leaned closer to Dream.

Dream gulped visibly. "What are you doing?"

George didn't respond, merely leaning closer until their noses barely brushed. He moved his head to the side, his warm breath fanning over Dream's earlobe. After what felt like an eternity, Dream holding his breath and George perched precariously over Dream, George finally spoke.

"We should really have cereal for breakfast, shouldn't we?"

Dream seemed to let out a breath, but the blush on his cheeks didn't recede. He swatted George off from on top of him.

"You're such an idiot." Dream rolled his eyes, trying his best to pretend that it hadn't affected him at all.

"I'm your idiot." George winked.

"Not wrong there." Dream chuckled. He wrapped his arms around George's neck and brought him in for a quick kiss. George gently cupped Dream's cheeks with his hands, holding him with such reverence that Dream felt his heart swell and when he broke away for breath, they both wore a large grin on their faces.

"Nice way to wake up." Dream commented, sitting up slightly so he was leaning on his elbows. George clambered off of Dream's lap and threw the covers off of his body.

"Get up, Dream!" George sang, dancing around the bed like a maniac. "Now you're finally awake, you better get your ass out of that bed."

Dream stared at George with a hint of amusement and adoration in his sea-green eyes. He finally shook his head.

"You're so weird."

George pouted. "Meanie."

Dream suppressed his large grin and sat up in bed, watching George dance out of the bedroom and into the bathroom before the door clicked shut.

"Shame I couldn't watch you shower. The shower doors are glass for a reason." Dream called out.

"Sucks to suck." George shot back, and Dream grinned dazedly at himself before the sound of the showerhead turning on shook him out of his reverie. He sat up, changing out of his pajamas and gazing out the window, where the snow was gently falling. He made his way over to the windowsill, glancing down at the ground, where a good foot of snow had already piled up.

A small smirk made its way onto Dream's lips when he thought of a good idea to pass time, as they had nothing to do this weekend.

"George?" He shouted as the shower head stopped.

"Yeah?"

"Hurry up, there's something I wanna do."

"Alright."

There were a couple of shuffling noises from inside the bathroom, then George pushed the door open.

"Give me a sec to use the bathroom. Wrap up, we're going outside," was all Dream said before he disappeared into the bathroom. George stared at Dream for a moment before obliging with raised eyebrows. Surely enough, within ten minutes the pair found themselves trudging outside in the knee-deep snow, dragging their feet along.

While George was busy admiring the silence and the glimmer of the untouched snow, Dream was busy making a snowball behind George's back. The silence stretched a little too long, and George turned around just in time for the snowball to hit him directly in the face. For a moment, they just stood still, George's shocked face and Dream's amused one suspended in time. Then, George looked Dream directly in the face.

"You did not just throw a snowball at me," George stated in disbelief.

Dream raised his hands in surrender, the snow stuck to his gloves giving him away, even though he had really made no effort to hide.

George stared at Dream for a little longer before kneeling down deliberately and kneading a snowball from the untouched patch of snow next to his feet. Dream started backing away slowly, his tense stature contrasted by his amused grin.

"Hey, George, we can talk about this."

George merely advanced silently, clutching the snowball in his hand. Dream backed away until his back was pressed against the wall of the house, and for a moment, Dream broke eye contact to look for places to run. In that second that Dream wasn't looking, George hurled the snowball right at Dream and it hit him squarely in the chest.

Dream stumbled slightly at the impact, but his gaze snapped back to George's. Once again, they stood in pure silence, the tension and pent-up energy hanging in the air. It was as though if someone were to simply move or breathe, the energy would go crazy, ricocheting off of every surface and causing havoc. Right now, the energy sat in the air, just barely balanced, but tense and ready to cause chaos.

Dream was the first to move, scooping up a ball of snow. George, taking that as a challenge, backed up slightly and formed his own snowball.

The pair circled around each other like two lions, ready to attack at the slightest opening they detected. Finally, George chucked his snowball at Dream's gut and missed just narrowly. Dream threw his snowball as well, and George dodged it with ease.

And with that, a full-on war was sparked between the two boys, them running around the front yard and gathering snow into snowballs and throwing them at each other. Only when one of Dream's more powerful snowballs missed George and hit the neighbor's window with a splat did they stop throwing snowballs. They both looked nervously at the window, but nothing seemed to have broken, so they looked back at each other, both breathing heavily from the exercise.

"That was fun." Dream broke the silence.

George chuckled. "Nice throw. Good thing it didn't break the glass."

"Let's head back inside?"

"Sure."

Dream offered his hand to George, but George refused it.

"The rivalry is still too real." George joked, and Dream laughed in response. They headed up back to the house, and they both shook off the snow on themselves like dogs in the doorway before heading back into the toasty warmth of their house.

George sprawled out on the couch, claiming the entire area to himself, but Dream didn't fight him, instead disappearing into the kitchen. George didn't mind Dream, instead turning on the TV and scrolling through the channels. He could hear some pots and pans banging around, then silence. After a while, Dream emerged from the kitchen, balancing two bowls of cereal.

George looked at Dream incredulously.

Dream shrugged. "You did say we should have cereal for breakfast."