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~Doomsday Kisses~
George was the first one to break, sliding up to Dreams lap as if to straddle him and mewled, breath hitching when Dream’s tongue swiped at his lip and sucked it red, trailing a line of hickeys down to his collarbones, biting and nipping it sore. Stars danced in his vision as he threw his head back, a broken string of curses and begs falling from his mouth as Dream continued his attack on Georges skin, grinning at the breathy moans the brunette made and groaning in satisfaction whenever the others hips bucked ever so slightly, desperate for any friction he could get.
He grabbed Dreams collar, tugging at it blindly, need for skin on skin contact overtaking the worry of destroying his friends clothes and physically had to stop himself from whining when Dream paused, lips brushing over his ever so sweetly.
“D-Dream..?Did I- uh, Did I do something..?”
Dream blinked, face breaking into a smug grin and he leaned in again, hands grabbing at the crotch of Georges pants, palming him steadily yet too soft to get anything going.
“Never, George.. you're just so pretty when you're like this.. all for me.”
George flushed, hands grabbing and bunching up Dreams sweater, a failed attempt to hide his face when Dream grabbed his chin and pulled him into (another) bruisingly hard kiss, so hard, in fact, that somewhere in his mind he realized he could taste copper, strong and potent on his tongue.
And- and he liked it.
God.
George was putty under Dreams control, melting with every bite, every touch , dragging himself as close as he could to the taller of the pair, fingers tangling into the blondes hair, it being the perfect length to grab and pull forward as his other hands slipped into jeans ready to finally give himself some relief when Dream stopped suddenly, gaze turning to near steel.
“What are you doing.” George felt his brain stutter to a stop, cheeks tinting pink for the umpteenth time that night, hand stilling just as fast.
“Im- uh, Im trying to-”
“I never said you could.”
George was having a really, really hard time processing this.
“I- what?”
But Dream didn't respond, and if he did, George couldn't hear it over the buzzing in his ears as he swiftly picked him up and started walking to his bedroom, face impassive as though he was just going on a Sunday stroll, not like he'd just man handled George into oblivion. It was a silent stroll, the sound of Dreams humming filling the air in a slight monotone roll as his chest rumbled, making him feel as though he was standing at the edge of a train track, the sound of it slowly getting louder and louder
It was only when Dream practically threw him on the bed (which holy fuck, he should not be getting as turned on he is) does he realize that oh.
OH . This- this is actually happening, hes actually planning on let his best friend fuck him into next Tuesday and-
and he wants him to . God does George want him to. Throughout this, Dream had been rummaging through a drawer and by the time he found a sizable bottle of lube and turned around, the revelation must've shown up on Georges face because he chuckled, low and dark and full of mirth.
“You're a mess George, such a mess.”
He blushed, an embarrassing squeak of ‘stop it’ being his only response as he looked at everywhere but the man in front of him, face heating up impressively when Dreams fingers brushed against his own hard-on, dick twitching excitedly, only to grab a handful of his hair, tipping his head up to nip at the skin between his chin and collarbone.
“You don't know how much i've wanted this, George... all those times I hear you, all those late night calls..” Dream left his abuse on Georges neck for just a second, an imprint of where his teeth had dug into Georges skin swirling a light purple, mindlessly whispering into the space right behind his ear “Everyday I felt my patience slip, you know that George? Every. Goddamn. Day. All while you were sitting your pretty little self behind a computer screen, oblivious.” The moans George were letting out were nearly pornographic, hips grinding on the thigh that had happily slotted its self right between his legs and finally, after what had started to feel like ages George was gonna get his release and fuck hes waited so long for this and-
And Dream grabbed his wrists, flipped him over and pinned him down, only one sound leaving him:
“W-what?”
He was on his back, legs spread open ever so slightly in a position that would usually make his face light aflame, but-
But Dream looked mad . George had only heard Dream mad once, and it had been years ago, when they'd fought over something so irrelevant that he couldn't even remember.
He remembered Dream, though. His voice had been loud, ricocheting around Georges brain as he'd tried to keep up his side of the argument, and eventually, just hung up on the call, body feeling numb and tired.
That night, he'd learned that when Dream was annoyed, he'd laugh a sarcastic laugh, as if to mock him and everything he stood for.
Whatever this was, though, wasn't it. It was anger , yes, but clouded behind something so strong, so there , that when George realized it was lust (for him nonetheless), that he wasn't quite sure what to do.
And he didn't need to, because Dream quickly gave him an objective.
“Stop. Moving. I never said you could.”
Georges vision was swimming, his chest going up and down and anticipation and he knew, realistically, that whatever he did next would determine the rest of the night.
So, he put his shame on a back burner and started humping his own leg, determined on finishing himself off before Dream could do whatever he was going to.
What came next, looking back, was entirely on him.
Dream pounced on him all but figuratively and ripped off his jeans, biting at Georges thighs with an intensity so fierce George was ready to accept that the marks would never leave.
His arms, now free from Dreams grip immediately went to his uncomfortably tight boxers, pushing it down as far as he could to free his (now aching) dick.
Dream didn't like that, or maybe he did, George wasn't really in the state to think at the moment.
“Such an eager little whore, do you really think im gonna let you aff that easy babes? Nah, we're doing it my way first.” and it was at that exact moment did George realize that this wasn't about him anymore. Dream was the one in control.
Dream had him at full disposal to use.
And George was fucking loving it .
Pre-cum and slick was dripping down his thigh and he was gripping the bed sheets with a force so tight he swore he heard the sheets ripped.
Dreams lips were wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking in a way the made Georges head spin.
Everything about this was perfect, the twinkle in Dreams eye as his head bobbed up in down, using his mouth in a way that probably illegal in some states and holy fuck how had they not done this before Georges pillow had nothing on this holy shit holy shit holy shit Dream was being so good and -
-Dream was being too good.
Way too good, and despite how badly he wanted to be, he wasn't really shocked when the movements were instead replaced with light kisses on his body, though he felt himself shudder, his wave of arousal halting almost immediately.
Uh uh, Dream was not doing this again.
Except apparently he was, because Georges needs were once again put on hold and he was starting to question wether he'd get to come at all that night when he heard a distinct sound of zipping and the click of a bottle, and a pang of anxiety spike through his heart.
Ok, so, yes this was Georges first time with a guy and yes he scared of not meeting Dreams expectations but that was fine right? He could do this, he wasn't sca-
And then Dream slid a finger in, and suddenly everything started to go fast.
Very, very fast.
One felt like nothing, two was start, and three was when the stars came back, Georges breath coming out in short pants. Every was great ,
This was great ,
But not enough.
He needed something else, something more . Something to tip off the empty peak that had settled in his gut, and while Dreams work with his fingers was near perfection, but George was sure the impressive piece of equipment between said mans legs could do better.
So, when Dream paused his work to admire, George grabbed him by the hood and pulled him down.
“I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” and maybe his words were slurred, and maybe his ‘order’ didnt have as much of a punch as he wanted it to, but it got the job done if the way Dreams eyes darkened meant anything.
“You know I love you, right?” George nodded, heart nearly beating out of his chest, afraid that his voice would fail him in the moment and repressed the urge to gulp when Dream took off his pants.
“Good, just wanted to make sure. ” and this time he didn't even even wait for George to pull himself together before drizzling an impressive amount of lube onto his own dick, hissing at the coolness against hot skin.
Lining himself up with George, Dream took a moment to appreciate the sight under him and a faint smile graced his face.
Georges entire body was flushed pink, lips parted and legs spread wide. His hair was stuck to his forehead in a glassy sheen and his pale skin was littered marks and bites all over.
He was… beautiful.
Beautiful and perfect and all for Dream to see.
But then then the haze was broken an reality set again, and Dream was made painfully aware of how much his dick hurt. Well, George had had his fun, it was only fair he got a turn.
He slammed into George all in one go, broken expletives falling from his mouth as he felt George squirm around, moans being emitted in a perfectly imperfect harmony. He dragged back out slowly, letting George feel every vein every twitch , he wanted this to last as long as he could. He went painstakingly slow, rolling his hips and keeping his touches light and hardly there, yet before anything could happen, he had one more request.
“Beg for it.”
George nearly chocked on air, trying to refuck himself onto Dream with needy desperation, yet Dream didn't budge, instead looking at him with an impassive sort of annoyance.
“D-Dream..? Dream wha- what?” Dreams temper was starting to slip, and he leaned down, grabbing Georges chin into his hand, voice low and husky,
“Well, you're obviously desperate. Beg for it and maybe i'll let you cum. You're not gonna pass that opportunity up are you?” it was like a switch had been flipped, George opened his and words streamed out.
“Ple-please Dream I- I need you, I need this , god Dream I want you so bad I- please -”
And that was it,
That was all Dream needed to hear.
He rammed into George without hesitation, grinning when the other made a choked sound mixed with a whiny moan, yet nearly falling over as the look was wiped from his face in mere moments.
Fuck, George was tighter than he thought .
All the better, than.
He started slow, wanting to make a wreck of George before the impatientness settled in again, and he slammed back in, a small gasp falling from the shorter.
He thrusted in and out, ramming into Georges prostate over and over with minimal time in between, groaning when George rolled his ass around him, as if trying to milk his cock dry.
“I- hngh~ I dont remember you being such a- gahh- such a little cock slut, baby.” He grinned, sweat trickling down his forehead. “Had I known- fuck George~ Had I- had I know, I would've dropped by earlier.”
The reaction he got was instantaneous, George clenched around him, chest heaving and pupils blown wide.
George came hard , and Dream fucked him through every second of it, a broken slur of moans in cries intermingling with his own.
“Y- you're taking me so well George-nnhm~ co- come on just a little longer I promise-” dirty talk spewed from him without pause as he felt his vision go white, thrusting in one last time before feeling himself go slack, body pumping out ropes of cum just as he collapsed onto the bed, narrowly missing Georges sprawled out limbs and let his mind swirl, realization hitting him like a truck.
Holy shit. He just did that. He just- he legitimately just did that.
Laughter bubbled from his throat. Wild and soft and all at once. He'd been so careful , so wary of his words, molding them so that he never overstepped Georges space, never letting silence linger in fear of what he might say and all it took was a few drinks, well placed touches and a giggle for fucks sake and -
Holy shit. Dream was doomed.
British accents and pouty lips would be his death.
The subject of affections flopped over, letting out a small groan of discomfort.
“Drea-”
“Clay.”
“What?”
He took a breath “Call me Clay.”
A pause, a smile and a shift.
“Sure.”
A beat.
“Hey, um, Clay?”
Dream hummed a yes, holding his arms out wide so that George could crawl forward, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. Mint and Apples his mind supplied when a sweet yet faded scent wafted of of George in waves. He mindlessly rubbed circles into the Brits back.
He'd never really been fond of mint.
He supposed he could make an acception.
“What are we?” There was a moment of hesitation.
“What do you want us to be?” The response must've caught George off guard because he pushed back, staring Dream in the eyes with a sort of... confusion? Whatever it was, Dream couldn't make it out.
He didn't like that, Dream didn't do well with not understanding.
George paused to think before curling into Dream again, lips curved upward.
“I don't know, but I like this.”
Dream blinked, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and heart thumping so loud he swore George could hear it.
“Y-yeah, uh- I'd like that.”
He bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, exhaustion long forgotten.
“I'd like that a lot.”
.
.
.
"So uh, were gonna need to get up soon so could, like, um, roll? over?? please???"
"No."
"That's fair."