"George."

George closed his eyes, smiling at the familiar sound of Dream saying his name in a sleepy mumble. It was a sound he heard most mornings and most nights, seeing that they fell asleep on call together more often than not these last few months of waiting for his visa.

"Dream," George answered, turning around to face the back seat. Dream was already staring at him with the dopiest smile George had ever seen in his life.

"You're here," Dream murmured, his voice nearly drowned out by the whirling sound of air rushing through the vents. George leaned against his seat while still contorting himself to face Dream.

"I'm home," George smiled.