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Dog's White Teeth

Summary:

“It’s not like you’re a virgin, right?” Quackity rolls his eyes.

Dream watches George intently, how his body tenses and his ears turn as red as his face, and how he bites the inside of his cheek. He knows exactly what that means.

“No,” George says, and Dream knows he’s lying. He knows because he knows George, and everyone else here knows George but they don’t know him like Dream does.

The conversation around them shifts again, the attention falling back onto general principles of hookups when you’re famous on the internet, and Dream is the only one in the room who knows George is a virgin.

Notes:

literally half of this is porn. enjoy

not beta'd so forgive any mistakes

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The living room is too warm, too many bodies and too much beer in Dream’s veins. 

His head feels a little fuzzy, not quite drunk but just past buzzed and all he can think is that he’s so happy. 

He’s so happy, and he watches the way George throws his head back in laughter, the drunk flush of his cheeks, and Dream is so happy. 

Quackity is making some joke or telling some story he’s not listening to, but he realizes everyone is laughing so he laughs too and his eyes catch on George again. Always back to George, he thinks. 

“So what did you do?” He tunes back in to hear Foolish say, blinking as he focuses back on the world around him. 

Everyone is in the living room, crowded on the couch or sitting on the floor nursing their various drinks. 

Foolish grins and sips his beer, and Dream watches Foolish watch Quackity grin. 

“I took her home, you fucking moron!” Quackity cackles, his drunk eyes sparkly under the dim lighting. 

Dream feels his attention fall to George again, noticing the way his cheeks deepen, his eyes heavy from liquor. For a split second, they meet eyes before George looks away again. 

“Do you just hook up with random people all the time?” Punz asks, his cheek squished against Foolish’s shoulder, “I dunno how you could do that without being like, paranoid or something.”

They’re talking about sex, he realizes. No wonder George is quiet and pink. He doesn’t have a lot of experience, Dream knows. He also knows George doesn’t like to talk about what experience he does have, preferring to keep that information private and to himself. He wonders if he’ll share any of it now when alcohol is loosening his lips and letting his thoughts spill easier. 

“Not if you know how to do it right, huh, George?” Quackity nudges him with an elbow, and everyone knows he’s making a joke but George makes a face anyway. 

“I’ve never hooked up with anyone,” George confesses, and Dream takes a slow breath. 

“Seriously?” Sylvee raises her eyebrows, leaning forward. 

“Obviously,” Sapnap answers from beside her, “He’s like a hermit.”

“I’m not a hermit, I just don’t like the idea, I guess. And I wouldn’t even know how to like-” He makes a frustrated noise, “Whatever, I just don’t want to,” He mutters, looking down at his drink. 

“It’s not like you’re a virgin, right?” Quackity rolls his eyes.

Dream watches George intently, how his body tenses and his ears turn as red as his face, and how he bites the inside of his cheek. He knows exactly what that means. 

“No,” George says, and Dream knows he’s lying. He knows because George has a lying face, extremely subtle movements of his features that are impossible to notice unless you know what to look for, and Dream does. He knows because he knows George, and everyone else here knows George but they don’t know him like Dream does. 

He’s probably the only one here who knows it’s a lie, and his heart pumps wildly. It’s an unimportant detail, one Dream couldn’t really care less about, but as soon as he realizes George lied it sticks to his brain. 

The conversation around them shifts again, the attention falling back onto general principles of hookups when you’re famous on the internet, and Dream is the only one in the room who knows George is a virgin. 

He keeps looping the way George said no, mixing it with every conversation they’ve ever had about sex and relationships, the one time George had said he wasn’t on that podcast two years ago, and Dream knows he’s fucked. Beer and an obsessive brain don’t always mix, and now he’s found himself spiraling. 

He wonders why George lies about it, why he’s even a virgin in the first place, wonders if the one girlfriend he’s ever had was a lie too. 

Dream looks back over to him, and his eyes meet George’s just as he stands, quietly slipping out of the living room. 

He’s on his feet before he even makes the decision, following George out of the room and into the kitchen. 

“Hey,” He says, sighing at the temperature change. It’s cooler in here, and somehow Dream hadn’t realized he had been sweating. 

“Hi,” George blinks up at him, leaning against the counter. 

He looks calmer now, less like he’s so embarrassed he’s about to explode. His cheeks are still red from the alcohol, and Dream wants to press his lips to the warm flesh just to feel him. 

“You good?”

George cocks his head, “Sure. Why?”

“Dunno, I just know you don’t like talking about that stuff.”

“What stuff?” George laughs a little, “Sex?”

“Yeah. You always get weird about it when we like, actually talk about it. Not as a joke.”

George breaks eye contact, looking down at the floor, “I guess. It’s just weird sometimes.”

“Because you’re a virgin?” Dream’s mouth says before his brain can tell him not to. 

He watches George freeze, the pause of his breath. 

“What?”

“You- sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” He rushes to apologize. 

“I’m not- Dream, I- that’s-” George sputters, looking everywhere except at Dream. 

“It’s fine that you are, it doesn’t- no one cares, y’know, it’s like a stupid concept anyway,” Dream tries to comfort him. 

“I’m- I literally just said I wasn’t,” George’s ears go pink again. 

“Yeah, but you were lying.”

“What? How would you even know if I was?”

“Because you have a lying face,” Dream blinks, “You do this- this thing with your mouth. And with the corners of your eyes, I can always tell when you’re lying.”

“That’s- that’s not even true, what? You cannot tell when I’m lying,” George’s jaw clenches. 

“Yes, I can. George, c’mon. I’m not like- I’m not making fun of you or anything, I swear.”

George meets his eyes again before looking away, over his shoulder to where he knows George can just barely see into the living room. 

“It’s just embarrassing,” George says under his breath, fiddling with his fingers. 

It’s the closest thing to an admission Dream is gonna get. He doesn’t know why he cares. He doesn’t, at least not in the way he thinks most people would assume. 

He can feel his buzz wearing off and he takes another big gulp of his beer, hoping for the soft fuzziness to roll over him again. Nerves buzz in his stomach and he desperately wishes he were drunker than he is. 

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing,” Dream tells him gently. He can see the anxiety on George’s face, the way he chews his lip as he waits for Dream’s reaction. 

An awful part of him wants to cross the room and kiss him breathless, to shove his hand down the front of George’s shorts until he’s shaking. It sends a hot wash of shame down his spine.

“I mean, it kind of is. I’m fucking 26 and I’ve never had sex, it’s like- it’s weird. It’s not like I haven’t tried, I mean, I went to Uni, I’ve kissed people and gotten close but it never- I guess I probably could have tried harder or something, but still. I don’t know it’s just-” George rambles, catching himself with a sharp breath, “Sorry. I’m still- I think I’m a little drunk, still.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dream’s face burns. He desperately tries not to picture George drunk at some university party, making out with some guy with their hands all over each other, “You can always talk to me about stuff like that. If you want, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know,” George nods, “Just maybe- just maybe not right now. Or when I’m drunk.” 

“Sure. Yeah, of course.” 

George nods again to himself and Dream watches him walk back into the living room without a word. He takes another long sip of his beer before following him. 

 

It’s half past noon when he wakes up, his head pounding and stomach lurching. 

He’s not quite hungover, but his head hurts and the lights are just a little too bright as he drags himself out of bed and trudges down the stairs to make breakfast. He’s sure everyone else is still sleeping, knowing Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were wasted by the time everyone else left and the three of them stumbled to their bedrooms. He makes a mental note to make sure Sapnap is awake by 3 to take Quackity to the airport.

George wasn’t as drunk as the other three were when he went to bed, but Dream still had to help him up the stairs when he tripped over his own feet. 

And then the memory of their conversation in the kitchen floods in and Dream freezes over the stove.

It’s worse to think about it with sober thoughts somehow. All he can think about is how flushed George’s cheeks were, how he had curled in on himself in embarrassment as he’d rambled about his lack of experience. 

Nausea rolls over him as he remembers it, how badly he’d wanted to press George further against the counter and beg for more details, for George to let him-

“Morning,” A sleepy voice pulls him from his spiraling.

He looks up, cursing to himself when he realizes the bacon has started to burn, flipping it quickly. 

George laughs at him, coming to stand at his side and watch him cook. 

“Morning. Sleep ok?” He does his best to sound normal, and not like he had just been thinking about George’s virginity. 

“Mm. I guess. My head hurts,” George complains, letting his head fall against Dream’s shoulder. 

“I’m making bacon and eggs, eating should help,” Dream says, his breath in his throat. George is a warm presence behind him, comforting and anxiety-inducing at the same time. 

George hums, not pulling away from Dream even when he moves to scoop the bacon onto a plate and start the eggs. 

“Can we eat in your room?” George asks as Dream cracks three eggs in the pan, one for him and two for George. 

Dream pauses, his spatula half wedged under the eggs, “Why?”

“Dunno. It’s cold in here,” George mumbles, and Dream knows there’s something he’s not saying. His stomach flips at the same time the eggs do. 

“Ok. Yeah, we can. Let me just- these will be done in a second, you can go ahead.”

George nods and hums, stepping away to leave the kitchen. 

He hurries to finish the eggs, scooping everything out onto their own plates and carefully balancing their forks as he makes his way up the stairs. His stomach does somersaults the whole way up, twisting even worse as he pauses outside the door. 

It’s just barely cracked and he kicks it open further with his foot, stepping in quietly and kicking it back shut behind him. 

George is laying on his bed, stretched out on his back with a sliver of his belly exposed. Dream nearly drops their foot as he stumbles forward, coughing to get George’s attention. 

“Oh,” George groans, sitting up, “Thanks.”

He hands George his plate and sits on the bed across from him. 

“So-”

“I kind of-”

They start at the same time, smiles breaking onto both of their faces.

“You go first,” George tells him, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth to avoid having to talk. 

Dream sighs dramatically, popping the yolk of his egg. 

“I was just gonna ask what you wanna talk about,” He shrugs.

“How did you know I wanted to talk about something?”

“George,” He scoffs, “C’mon. I just know you. You asked to eat breakfast in my room.”

“Maybe I was just cold like I said,” George pokes at his eggs. 

“Just tell me, idiot.” Dream rolls his eyes.

George sighs and Dream watches the heavy drop of his shoulders. 

“I just wanted to talk to you about last night, I guess.”

Dream’s stomach drops, “Yeah?” He croaks. 

“Um, yeah. If that’s alright.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dream forces himself to relax, “Obviously it’s alright.”

“I just- I dunno. It’s not something that really bothers me a lot, and I think it’s because it’s not something that ever really comes up very often so I just don’t think about it much, you know? But since I moved, and I’m hanging out with people a lot more, like- just the subject of like, sex comes up a lot more.”

Dream notices the way his cheeks turn pink when he says the word sex, the way it sounds awkward on his tongue when he doesn’t say it as a joke. 

“You know no one would judge you if they knew, right?” Dream tries to reassure him, confused at George’s concerns. 

“No, I know. That’s not the thing that bothers me. I mean, I guess I would probably just be embarrassed if they did but- it’s more that I just feel uncomfortable being so inexperienced when everyone talks about it,” He pokes at his eggs. 

“Is there like, is there something you wanna do about it, then?” 

George hums and takes a bite of his food, tilting his head back and forth, “I dunno. What even would there be to do?”

Dream thinks for a moment, “I mean, you could always lose your virginity,” He suggests as a half-joke. 

George sputters and Dream grins, amused by how easily George gets flustered over the subject. 

“I can’t just- I mean, who would I even do it with?” He grimaces at the last few words, and Dream’s heart pumps too fast in his chest. 

“I mean- I dunno. Get on a dating app or something.” Dream suggests, the words like cotton in his mouth. 

“Are you serious?” George cocks an eyebrow, “No fucking way. No, that’s- someone would recognize me or something and that’s- just, no. And I wouldn’t want, like, a stranger to do it anyway. Can you imagine how awkward it would be?”

“Are you serious? People would be like, actually tripping over themselves to have a chance with you.”

George scoffs, "Right. I’m sure a million people are tripping over themselves to fuck a 26-year-old virgin. How could I possibly choose just one?” He rolls his eyes, “It just feels weird having to like, find someone.” 

"I mean, you don't have to find anyone." Dream takes a deep breath. He realizes what he’s suggested a moment too late, and his heart thumps loudly in his chest.

He either has to double down or backtrack. 

"What?" George blinks at him, cheeks turning pink. He loves that about George, how easily he flushes. It’s not always easy to see on camera, but since George’s arrival Dream has learned that he blushes easily, and he’s a little addicted to making his pale skin go blotchy with color. For a split second, he imagines how pink he’d turn spread out on the bed, Dream’s hands all over his body. 

"I'm right here, you know," He doubles down. He tries to make his voice just playful enough that George doesn't get weirded out, his anxiety buzzing like live wires in his veins. 

He watches the realization settle over George’s face, the way his eyes widen just a fraction. 

"You're not serious," George tells him, and Dream's stomach flips. 

"I mean," Dream raises an arm to nervously scratch at his jaw, "I am. If you like, actually want to. It's not like either of us are getting laid, and you don’t want to fuck a stranger. It’ll be like- like trying a new plug-in for a video, or something,” It’s a stupid analogy, but his tongue feels thick and his brain feels foggy from the topic. He still thinks it’s better than telling George he just wants to see the flush of his body, that he’s obsessed with the idea of George being a virgin and being his first, and that he’s been trying to avoid thinking about fucking him for three years and after last night it might become impossible anyway. 

"Minecraft, but my friend is taking my virginity," George says dryly.

It makes Dream laugh again, and he notices the small smile that cracks George's stony expression. 

"Yeah, exactly. We'd get a million views in the first few minutes," He smiles.

"You're so stupid," George bites back a smile. 

“Oh, come on, you know it would be a hit,” Dream teases. 

He watches the way George chews at his bottom lip, the concentrated look on his face as he seriously thinks about Dream’s offer. 

“So you just- you want to take my virginity?”

“Yeah,” Dream shrugs, pretending as if he feels casual about this, “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Ok, just- so tell me what you would do. Like, how it would work.”

“You need me to explain sex to you?”

“Ok, no, you idiot. Just like, a vague idea of what would happen,” A pink tint seeps over George’s cheeks as he stares at the wall behind Dream, avoiding his eyes. 

“Oh. Right, uh. I dunno, it would just be something really chill. We can go at your pace and you can choose everything that happens. I’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with.”

George looks at him in contemplation, a more serious expression than Dream thinks he’s ever seen him make crossing his face. 

“And you’re serious?” George asks again. 

Yes, George,” Dream sighs, “I wouldn’t mess around with you about this.”

He watches the heave of George’s chest as he takes a deep breath, his blood pumping loudly in his ears as he watches his mind work. 

“Ok,” George says after a minute. 

“Actually?” Dream can feel his brows shoot up in disbelief, somehow still not convinced George would say yes. 

“Only if you mean it.”

“I do, idiot. Shit, ok. Do we- when do you wanna do it?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” George turns pink again as he rolls his eyes, his hands coming up to hide his face, “Not today, obviously. I dunno, maybe Friday? I want to like- get prepared. Mentally and stuff. Plus, Sapnap will be gone, so.”

Dream grins, obsessed with the blush peeking out from behind George’s delicate fingers. “Ok. Yeah, Friday.”

“Yeah,” George confirms, “I’m just- I’ll drop these off in the kitchen,” he stands from the bed, taking their plates, “Uh, I’ll see you for dinner, then.”

He watches George awkwardly slip out of the door, shutting it behind him. 

“Yeah,” Dream says a moment too late. 

The weight of the plans they’ve just made suddenly falls on him, his heart beating so loud he thinks it might burst out of his chest. 

He’s going to take George’s virginity on Friday. 

He’s going to fuck George on Friday. 

He’s going to fuck George. 

He falls back onto the bed, scrubbing his hands on his face, a dull throb of arousal washing over him just at the thought. He can’t help himself as his hand moves over his crotch, a soft noise falling from his mouth as he palms himself, half-hard just thinking about their plans. 

It’s impossible to not think of George as he pushes a hand below his waistband, his eyes slipping shut as he pulls himself out of his sweats. 

All he can picture is flashes of pale skin, George laid out on his bed, pink and flushed under Dream’s hands, pushing and pulling and spreading. He thinks of George’s stomach and its softness, the brief glimpses of dark hair he’s seen trailing down below his belly button. 

His grip tightens on himself, biting back noises and growing close embarrassingly fast as he fucks up into his fist. 

He thinks of his fingers pushing into George, how easy he’d take them, and the sweet noises that would fall from his lips as Dream fucked him. He imagines George’s thighs on either side of his head as he’d dip down to slide his tongue over his rim alongside the fingers. 

His cock throbs, leaking over his hand as he pulls at himself and reaches down to squeeze at his balls with his free hand. He stifles a moan, thinking of George’s hands in place of his own. 

The mental image of George’s hands on his cock sends him over the edge, spilling messy ropes of white up his chest and soaking his shirt. 

Shame creeps up his cheeks once he comes down. He’d made it a rule for himself, a preventative measure, to avoid thinking about George like that, to never step past a line he can’t uncross. 

It’s just different, he tells himself. He’s not going to be fucking George because they’re in love with each other. It's transactional. Mutually beneficial, or something like that. He tries not to let himself think too deeply about the details. 

He sits up with a sticky hand and damp shirt, dragging himself to the bathroom to clean up. 

 

For a brief few moments, he worries that the days that follow will be awkward. 

It’s a stupid worry, evidently, as George behaves exactly as he normally does. At dinner later that night he’s loud and obnoxious, and then quieter and sarcastic when they all sit on the couch to watch a movie. 

They eat breakfast together the next morning in the kitchen as they normally do, discussing future videos and what they’re gonna do this weekend when Sapnap flies back to North Carolina with Karl later in the day. 

They separate after breakfast and don’t see each other again until they all say goodbye at the front door, exchanging hugs and well wishes before sending Sapnap and Karl out the door.

They watch a movie before going to bed, and everything is normal. Dream barely even remembers what they’re supposed to be doing tomorrow until he’s laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. 

 

“Ok,” George says Friday afternoon with bright red cheeks, perched on the edge of Dream’s bed, “How do we start?”

“Um,” Dream swallows, “We could- I mean, ok, actually, do you wanna start with like, telling me what you have done? I don’t wanna presume or something.”

“Presume,” George laughs to himself, “Ok. Um,” he pauses to think. 

Dream watches as he gathers his words, the twist of his lips as he thinks. 

“I mean, I’ve kissed people. A few times at Uni, mostly. I was kind of- in secondary school I was kind of awkward and weird, so I didn’t really do anything until Uni.”

“So, is that it? You’ve just kissed?” A lump forms in Dream’s throat, sickening excitement, and desire. 

“I’ve done some hand stuff, too. Like, handjobs. But only once or twice, I think. Not a lot. I dunno. I’ve watched a lot of porn so it’s not like I’m an idiot or anything. Like, I know what happens.”

“Right,” His voice cracks embarrassingly, “Ok. Yeah, good. Um-” He has another question on the tip of his tongue, but his cheeks burn at the thought of having to ask. 

“What?” George blinks at him. 

“I just- Ok, um. When we- y’know. Do you wanna top or bottom,” He grits, embarrassed. 

George takes in a breath like he hadn’t thought about the question either. 

“Um, I think bottom, maybe. If that’s ok. If we- I dunno, if we ever do this again maybe we could switch, or something,” He says, embarrassment evident in his voice. 

If we ever do this again. It rattles around in Dream’s head. 

“Yeah, of course. Obviously, that’s ok. Yeah. Good,” He rambles, trying not to let his brain flood itself with images of George fucking him. 

“Good,” George echoes, an awkward smile on his lips, “So, what do we do now?”

Dream swallows, his pulse quickening, “We could just start with kissing. If- I mean, if you want to kiss.”

George nods, shifting to sit more on the bed, “Yeah, kissing is- it’s good. We can kiss.”

Dream watches him fiddle with his hands in the nervous way he always does. He takes in a steady breath.

Fake it til you make it, he tells himself. He just needs to pretend he isn’t nervous, and then he won’t be. False confidence. He’s good at that. 

“Ok. Good, ok. C’mere,” He pats the space next to him, allowing George to scoot over until their thighs are pressed together, their shoulders gently bumping. He brings a gentle hand to the side of George’s face, fingertips buzzing as he brushes over his cheekbone. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Dream tells him, low and heady, and he watches George shiver under his touch. He’s addicted to it already, how easy it is to get a reaction out of George. 

George nods, his eyes fluttering shut. 

Dream studies his face for a minute, his slack jaw and the slight part of his lips, the flush high on his cheekbones. He’s so beautiful it’s a little painful to look at him directly. It’s like staring at the sun sometimes. 

He takes another deep breath, and then he’s leaning forward to press his lips against George’s. 

It’s gentle, nothing more than a simple press of lips but George gasps like he’s never felt anything like it, and Dream needs more instantly. He deepens the kiss, pulling George closer to him. George’s hands move to his shoulder, nails digging in and Dream can’t help the noise he lets out at the sharp feeling. 

George kisses him like a starving man, his tongue plunging its way into Dream’s mouth at the first chance. It’s wet, and a little gross but Dream is lost to it, letting George take all he wants from him and more. 

He keeps one hand on George’s face, the other in a tight grip on his waist, and it takes all his self-restraint to not grab and pull him into his lap. It’s a little silly, seeing as what they’re doing this for, but he wants to let George go at his own pace, to take what he wants without Dream’s influence. 

“Dream,” George gasps, pressing further. He shoves his tongue into Dream’s mouth, licks over his tongue and his teeth, and Dream can barely breathe but he lets George keep licking into his until they have to pull apart for air and their lips have gone numb. His dick throbs in his sweats.

George breathes wetly against his jaw, open-mouthed and hot, and his hands are shaking from how tightly he’s gripping Dream’s shoulders. 

“George,” Dream breathes out, nearly panting. His hand flexes against George’s hip just to feel him. 

“I’m-” George shudders, starting to mouth against Dream’s jaw like he can’t stop himself. 

“Just- tell me what you want, George. I’ll give you whatever you want, just tell me. Want you to be in control,” He bites back a moan. 

“Just want more,” George licks the line of his jaw, mouth just below his ear, “Why is this good,” He wonders out loud and Dream can’t help but laugh. 

“Here, c’mere, it’ll be-” He pulls George into his lap, no longer able to keep resisting being closer to him. 

George lets out a low sound, immediately pushing his hips forward and Dream realizes he’s hard too. Ice runs through his veins and he clutches at George’s hips, pulling him down until he’s properly sitting on his lap, arms looped around Dream’s neck. 

“Shit,” George moans, grinding against him again. He dips down to shove his tongue back in Dream’s mouth, messy and a little inexperienced, and Dream leans into it, giving back the best he can. 

He keeps his hands on George’s hips as they kiss, trying not to let himself wander without George’s permission despite George’s desperate grinding. His hands find their way under the hem, fingertips burning as they graze bare skin and George moans into his mouth.

“Will you-” George pulls away panting, and Dream can’t help but kiss down to his neck.

“What?” Dream mumbles, feeling the skin under his lips, nipping gently at his stubbled jaw. 

“Will you touch me? Dream, please,” He whines, pushing his hips forward again. 

“Where?” Dream teases, not wanting to make it easy for George. He smirks when George whines again, small hands winding up to tangle in his hair and tug gently. 

“Dream, c’mon.”

“How am I supposed to know where to touch you if you don’t tell me?”

“You’re such an ass,” George moans when Dream sucks a mark at the base of his neck. 

“Oh,” Dream teases, “You want me to touch your ass?” 

His hands slip from under George’s shirt, creeping down until they fall to his lower back, his pinkies just barely brushing over the round curve of his behind. 

George makes a soft noise and tries to push back into touch, “Please.”

It’s stupid how giddy he feels when he finally touches him, his palms kneading and groping at the sweet fat of his ass. George pushes back into the touch, dipping down to kiss him again. 

“Can I-” Dream mumbles, his fingers creeping up towards the waistband of George’s shorts. 

George hums a yes, licking his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. 

Like a gift from God, Dream shoves his hands down the back of his shorts, getting his hands on plump bare skin. 

“Jesus, your ass is insane,” He moans, squeezing gently. He can feel George smile against his mouth and the reality of what they’re doing hits him. 

He has George’s ass in his hands, his tongue in his mouth. He moans without volition, embarrassed at how badly he wants. He tries to remind himself that this is for George, that this is casual, and that he can’t let his stupid big feelings get in the way of George’s experience. 

“I’m so hard,” George moans back, and Dream knows, he can feel George’s cock pressing against him and it’s enough to make him crazy. 

“Tell me what you want, George,” He squeezes his ass, drinking the moan George pours into his mouth. 

Fuck me,” He whines, pathetic and desperate. 

Dream wishes he were a stronger man, but he’s not, not when it comes to George. In a moment of insanity, he flips them over and pins George beneath him as they connect their mouths.

George bucks up into him, grinds them together through the layers of their clothes, and whines. 

“Gonna take your shorts off, ok?” Dream kisses him gently, softer than should be allowed. 

George nods, sitting up to pull off his shirt as he allows Dream to take off his shorts, kicking off his boxers with them. 

And then George is naked and laid out on Dream’s bed. 

It’s like something out of a wet dream. His cock is pink and hard, small and dripping below his belly button. He’s miles of smooth skin, pink blush on his cheeks and his chest, sparse hair on his sternum, and just below his navel. He’s the most beautiful thing Dream has ever seen. 

His cock throbs painfully and he can feel himself leak into the fabric of his boxers. 

“I think you’re supposed to be naked too,” George’s voice is small, embarrassed. He looks shy again like he’s moments away from curling into a ball and disappearing. 

“Yeah,” Dream breathes out, still hypnotized by George’s body. He pulls off his shirt, shoves off his pants, and crawls back over George to kiss him. 

Their cocks brush and George moans, eager as he wraps a leg around Dream’s thigh, pulling their bodies closer. 

It’s ridiculous how good it feels, just to be naked and kiss. He knows George is the virgin but this feels like Dream’s first time. He’s not sure sex has ever felt like this, and they’ve barely done anything yet. 

He runs his hands over George’s body, feeling the soft skin beneath calloused palms, finding the places that make George squirm and moan and press his hips up. 

“More,” George asks after another few minutes of kissing.

Dream nods, placing a last kiss on George’s lips before crawling down his body to settle between slender legs. George accepts him easily, throwing one leg over Dream’s shoulder and letting the other fall open. His face is bright red and his lips as swollen as he looks down at Dream, and Dream is not sure anyone has ever been this lucky. 

Something possessive stirs in his gut at the realization that he’s the first person to ever have George like this. 

And then he remembers that George is not his to feel possessive over. 

“You wanna hand me the lube? It’s in the top drawer,” He asks, ignoring the ache blooming in his chest. 

George nods, reaching over to the nightstand and rummaging through it. He hands Dream the small bottle with a shaky hand. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Dream asks as he slicks his fingers with lube, giving George a last out. 

He looks up the long line of George’s body, the slight jump of his cock, and the red spreading over his chest. 

“Yeah. I want it,” George tells him with big eyes, soft and glassy already. 

It, he says. Not you, Dream reminds himself. 

He nudges the leg not thrown over his shoulder further apart until he can see George’s hole, a single finger reaching down to rest against it. 

“Oh,” George gasps on an inhale. 

“Ready?” 

George pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and nods his head. 

Dream pushes slowly, dipping his head to mouth at the base of George’s cock as he eases his first finger inside.

He can feel the tension in George’s body when he fits the whole finger inside, “You have to relax,” He tells him. 

“I’m trying. It just feels weird,” George whines, wiggling and clenching around Dream’s finger. 

“You’ve never even fingered yourself?” Dream tries to ease his nerves with casual conversation, just barely pulling his finger out before pushing back in. 

“No,” George sighs, starting to relax, “I just never bothered. Too much work.”

Dream huffs a laugh, moving his finger more easily now, “Of course, you would find masturbation too much work.”

“It’s not-” George bites back a moan when Dream grazes his prostate, “Ok, it’s not too much work. Just unnecessary.”

“Yeah? This feels unnecessary?” Dream teases, pressing the tip of a second finger alongside the first. 

George makes a small noise and pushes his hips down, a silent ask for more. 

It’s easier to fit in than the first finger, George relaxed enough that Dream can push it in without too much resistance. He’s still slow, gentle, as he works it in until both fingers are to the knuckle. He stretches them gently until George starts making soft noises again, his eyes fluttering shut as Dream starts to pick up the pace. 

He’s intentional about missing his prostate, not wanting to overwhelm him on his first time. George’s cock is pretty and pink against his belly, the tip a deep red where it’s leaking and coating his happy trail in precum. 

When he slips in a third finger, he can’t help himself from leaning up to lick the salty substance. George lets out a surprised moan, his hands flying to tangle in Dream’s hair. 

He can feel George’s cock jump against the side of his face as he mouths over wiry hair, nipping gently as he trails back down. 

“Dream,” George whines, breathless. 

“Hm?” He leisurely fucks three fingers into George, not quite fingerfucking him, but easing them in and out at a gentle pace. 

“More,” He pants, his chest heaving. Dream’s eyes fall on the sparse hair dusting his sternum, and he wants to put his mouth there too. He wants to put his mouth on it, wants to lick and suck and kiss every inch of George’s body. He kisses the crease of George’s hip and fucks his fingers in harder instead. 

He bites gently, nosing at the thick hair around the base of George’s cock, mouthing at whatever skin he can find and working his fingers until George is moaning. He barely misses his prostate with each thrust, teasing and maddening, and he can’t resist sucking the tip of George’s cock into his mouth when he sees another dribble of precum fall onto his belly. 

George lets out a noise of surprise, his hips jumping to shove his cock further down Dream’s throat, but Dream doesn’t let him. He keeps his free hand firm on George’s hips, keeping him in place as he sucks on just the head. He likes the taste more than he’d thought he would, like the salty bite of it, how it tastes like skin and musk and something uniquely George. The texture is nice on his tongue too, firm but soft, velvety almost. 

It occurs to him that this is the first blowjob George has ever gotten. It’s both of their firsts this time, Dream’s first time giving and George’s first time receiving. He wonders if he should have thought about it more before he’d just gone ahead and taken his cock into his mouth. 

He slows the pace of his fingers, more focused on just stretching now as he takes a little more of George into his mouth, focusing on the noises George makes as he gets more desperate. He’s silently satisfied that George’s cock is on the smaller end, as he can take more into his mouth without feeling like he’s suffocating. Although, he’s not sure how much he’d really mind if he did. 

George’s hands tighten in his hair, his hips bearing down on his fingers, “‘M ready, Dream.”

He pulls off his cock with a vulgar noise, letting his other hand take it and stroking slowly. 

“Are you sure?” He flexes his fingers and watches the way George shifts down to keep them buried inside him. 

“Yeah,” George nods, soft hair falling in his eyes, “Fuck me.” 

The words go straight to Dream’s cock, his own arousal suddenly dizzying and he can’t help but push his hips against the bed, grinding against the mattress. 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters to himself, his mouth against George’s hip.

“Dream, please,” George’s hands are gentle in his hair, brushing through tangled curls. It makes him want to cry a little, the tenderness of it. 

“Ok,” He sits up on his knees, keeping his fingers pressed deep. He tries not to feel embarrassed by how hard he is, how obviously George is staring at him, “Do you want to use a condom?”

George blinks at him, eyes flicking from his cock back up to his eyes and down again. 

“Do we have to?”

A punched-out breath leaves his chest, “I guess not. It’s not like- I mean, I guess you’re clean. And I, y’know. It’s been a while, so.”

“Just wanna feel it in me,” George sighs, his eyes glassy.

“Fuck, George,” Dream gasps. He reaches down to tug at his cock, flushing hotly at the implication of his words. 

“Please,” George pushes his hips down again, his face desperate and voice pleading. 

With a deep breath, Dream pulls his fingers out, shuddering at the long whine George lets out at the empty feeling. 

He slicks his cock with more lube and helps George to tilt his hips up until he can press just the tip to George’s stretched rim.

“George,” He says softly. He rubs the tip of his dick over his hole and watches the smear of precum left behind. It feels primal, claiming. 

Please,” George begs with pink lips, and Dream watches the way his hole flutters like it’s trying to suck him in. 

George's hands creep down his shoulders, resting briefly on his waist before moving around to squeeze his ass. 

It shocks a laugh out of him and George grins wide and happy.

“Fuck me,” George says again, trying to pull him closer by his ass

“Ready to lose your virginity?” Dream teases, too revealing in its softness. 

George nods and bites his lip. He looks up at Dream with big eyes, the hair stuck to his forehead damp and dark. He’s so beautiful. 

He presses forward until just the head of his cock slips in and George gasps, his hands flexing where they’re still resting on Dream’s ass. 

Dream lets out a low moan, eyes stuck on the place where their bodies are now joined. 

“Oh, God,” George moans as Dream pushes in a little more.

“Is it ok?” Dream asks, his hands finding George’s sides and running along them gently. He pauses, about halfway in.

“Yeah, just-” He takes a deep breath, “Just keep going.”

“You sure it doesn’t hurt?” 

George shakes his head, his brow furrowed. He tightens around Dream’s cock, pulling a gasp from him, “Just feels weird.”

“Jesus, don’t- don’t do that,” Dream pants, starting to push in again. 

“Do what?”

“When you like, squeeze. You’re gonna make me cum before I can even actually fuck you,” He grunts. 

It makes George laugh, breathless and catching on a moan when Dream bottoms out.  

“I thought this was supposed to be about me,” He jokes, and Dream finds something emotional in the way George is still joking with him, still teasing. 

“It is about you,” Dream rolls his eyes, holding himself still, “Always about you.”

It’s too honest. He feels dizzy with emotion, intoxicated with it. He’s a little terrified of the things he might say like this. 

George’s eyes go soft, “Dream.”

“Can I move?” He asks, trying to cover up the emotion welling between them. This is about George, he reminds himself. This isn’t about love. 

“Yeah,” George breathes, “Kiss me first.”

Dream is hopeless but to listen. 

He dips down to press their lips together at the same time he starts to move, pulling out just an inch before pushing back in. George gasps, one hand winding back into his hair and tugging gently. 

“Again,” George licks the words into his mouth. 

Dream makes a pathetic noise but listens, starting up a gentle rhythm. His hands brush over George’s chest, catching on soft pink nipples and smiling when it makes George moan louder, one leg wrapping around Dream’s hip as he picks up the pace. 

“You like that?” Dream smiles against his mouth, pinching lightly at the buds. 

“You’re such an idiot,” George moans, his nails digging into Dream’s shoulder, “Fuck me.”

Dream curses, doubling down on his efforts. He grabs George’s leg, hikes it higher up his hip, and shifts the angle until he bumps against George’s prostate, pulling a long moan from pink lips. 

“Oh, fuck, Dream- Dream, there,” George babbles squirming and trying to fuck himself down on Dream’s dick. 

“Good?” Dream pants, already feeling the familiar knot in his belly. 

“So good, you’re so good,” George whines, nearly a cry, “Fuck, why is it so good? Is it always good like this?”

Dream huffs a laugh, wiping a stray bead of sweat from George’s forehead, “I mean, it can be,” He reaches a hand down to run his thumb over the slit of George’s cock. It’s dripping, wet and sticky and Dream brings it back up to his mouth to lick it clean. 

A broken moan leaves George’s mouth, his eyes focused on Dream's lips as he cleans his thumb. 

“Fuck, I see why people get addicted to this,” His eyes fall shut as Dream hits his prostate over and over.

Dream smiles and tucks his head into the crook of George’s neck to suck dark marks, keeping up a bruising pace. He feels George’s hand leave his hair to worm its way between their bodies, starting to jerk himself off in time with his thrusts. 

“Yeah? You gonna become a whore after this?” Dream teases.

“Dream,” George gasps, nearly a moan. 

“Fuck, did you like that?” Dream huffs a laugh, swatting away George’s hand to replace it with his own. 

“No,” George lies. 

“Oh, you so did,” Dream grins, rising back on his knees. He grabs at George’s hips, adjusts him so his cock directly presses against his prostate with every thrust. He watches George’s cock bob, painfully red and drooling precum as he squirms, moaning and crying out. 

“Didn’t,” George gasps, his face bright pink. 

“Aw, George,” Dream teases, running his thumb over George’s leaking slit, “It’s ok to be a slut. I won’t judge you.”

George moans brokenly, tips his head back, and fucks up into Dream’s fist before pushing back on his cock, “I hate you.”

“Nah, you like this. You love this. You like being a slut,” The words send shivers down Dream’s spine, a new wave of arousal and he knows it’ll only be a few more minutes before he tumbles over the edge. 

He works his fist faster, presses on the spots he’s learning George likes, and fucking him fast, whispering dirty words. 

“‘M not a slut, idiot. This is literally my first time,” George moans anyway, and Dream lets it rest. He dips down again to kiss him, ignoring the awkward angle and strain on his neck. 

“I know, baby,” The pet name slips out on accident, and he kisses George again to try and distract from it. 

“Close,” George moans, gentle hands touching Dream’s shoulders, tugging lightly on sweaty curls. 

“Cum for me,” Dream presses the words against his mouth, strokes him faster, and thrusts harder, trying to stave off his orgasm until George comes first. 

George nods, whining. Dream watches him bring a hand up to pinch at his own nipples, the long line of his throat bared like he’s begging Dream to mark it. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Dream can’t help but tell him, a desperate need for George to understand how beautiful he is, how much Dream wants him, “You look so good, George, so beautiful.”

“Dream,” George cries, “Please.”

He jerks George off with quick movements, fucking against his prostate with every thrust until he feels his body go tight around him. 

George comes with a loud cry, shaking as he spills over Dream’s hand and up his chest, scratching down his back with blunt nails. He fucks him through it, and it seems like he comes forever, his cock spitting more cum every time Dream thinks he’s done. 

He shivers through the aftershocks even after Dream finally stops moving, little hurt noises and movements wracking his body. 

Dream has half a mind to ask if he’s ok when he finally blinks his eyes back open, glassy with tears. 

“What are you doing?” George blinks up at him, his face soft and warm. 

“What?”

“You didn’t finish,” George tells him like it’s obvious. 

“Yeah. I didn’t-”

“I want you to cum in me, I already told you that,” George furrows his brow, and Dream’s cock twitches where it’s still inside him. 

“Are you sure?” He runs a gentle hand down George’s side, obsessed with how big his hand looks wrapped around his waist. 

“Please. Wanna feel it.”

Dream curses under his breath and starts to move again slowly, letting George squirm and adjust to the overstimulation. 

George’s soft cock twitches when Dream picks up the pace and it doesn’t take more than another minute before Dream is coming too, pressing deep inside George, holding him tightly as he spills with a low groan. 

“Oh,” George says softly, arms wrapping around Dream’s shoulders to pull their bodies together. 

Dream lets himself be pulled in easily, relaxing in the gentle grip of George’s arms. He wedges his hands under George’s back the best he can until they’re basically hugging, his face back in the crook of George’s neck. He kisses one of the dark marks he left earlier and hopes it’s allowed now after it's over. 

“Feels weird,” George says after a minute, sleepiness seeping into his voice. 

“What does?”

“Not being a virgin anymore.”

“Actually?”

“No,” George snorts, “Well, maybe a little. I was talking about the cum inside me. And your cock, too.”

“Oh, shit-” Dream moves to pull out but George stops him, pulling him back into their embrace. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It’s nice,” He hums. 

“Yeah? It was good?”

“Yeah. A virginity taking,” George grins. He twists one of Dream's curls around his finger. 

“Good. That’s epic. I’m an epic virginity taker,” He smiles against George’s neck. 

“You’re cracked,” George smiles back. 

 

“Mm,” Dream hums, trying to ignore the feeling of dread suddenly creeping up his spine. He knows he won’t have much longer before their sweat and cum become uncomfortable and George kicks him out, and he never gets him like this again. 

“We should probably shower,” He says, trying to leave before George kicks him out. It’ll be easier if it’s his own choice. 

“Ugh,” George groans, but he lets Dream sit up, wincing when he pulls out, “I can feel your cum dripping,” he tells him. 

Dream wrinkles his nose and resists the urge to pull George’s legs further open to look. 

“You wanted it,” He rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever. It sounded like a good idea when I said it,” He crosses his arms. He’s unashamed in his nakedness now, a contrast to how shy he’d been before, “Go start the shower.”

“Oh. Did you- you wanna shower? With me?” Dream blinks at him, hovering awkwardly by the edge of the bed. His heart leaps into his throat. 

“I thought-” George’s face drops, “Oh, God, sorry. I thought you were like-”

“No, it’s ok,” Dream cuts him off, “You can come. I didn’t wanna assume, or anything.”

George relaxes, nodding, “Ok. Yeah, I wanna. If that’s fine.”

“It is. I’ll go start the water,” He turns towards the bathroom. 

 

The water is just turning warm when George joins him, stepping under the spray and sighing. He closes his eyes and lets the water run over him, soaking his hair and pink body. 

“Good?” Dream asks, pressing his back to the cool tiles of the shower wall. He watches the water drip over George’s body, tracing the lines of it with each rivulet. 

“Mm. My shoulders kind of hurt,” He sighs, rolling his shoulder back as he talks. 

“From what? You barely even did anything.”

“That is not true, I was a very active participant,” He cracks one eye open, grinning, “Will you wash my hair?”

Dream’s heart thumps loudly in his chest. 

“Yeah. C’mere,” He turns George around so his back is to Dream, nearly pressed against his chest. He gives him a little space, but George steps back until they’re plastered together and makes a content noise. 

He picks up George’s shampoo and squirts a dollop into his hand, gentle as he works it through his hair. He scrubs with careful fingers, massaging his scalp and scratching lightly. He’s always loved George’s hair and he relishes this moment, where he gets to touch it all he wants. He runs his fingers through the soapy strands just because he can. 

“Rinse,” He tells George after a few minutes.

George turns and lets the water wash away the shampoo.

There’s a lingering tension between them, unsaid words drifting like the steam around them. 

“Conditioner now,” George turns and presses his back against Dream’s chest again. Dream hums and repeats the process with conditioner this time, massaging and combing the product through. 

“All better?” He asks when George rinses out the conditioner. 

George hums and looks contemplative, “No. You need to do my body wash now.”

“Do I?” Dream asks, his hands itching to get back on George’s body. He’s too tired to be horny again, and he can tell George is too. 

He lets George’s body wash pour into his hand as George steps back against him again. 

“Is this ok?” He asks quietly, his soapy hands ghosting over George’s chest. 

“Yes,” George says, pushing into the touch. 

He gently runs his hands over George’s torso, carefully around his nipples and stopping just above his pubes, “It’s hard to get your legs like this,” Dream tells him. 

George steps back and turns around so they’re facing each other, breathing heavily as Dream sinks to the shower floor, soaping up his legs one at a time. His cock is soft and small by Dream’s face and he can’t help but look. His hands climb up George’s legs to his ass, kneading gently. 

George lets out a soft sound, his hands winding in Dream’s wet hair. 

It’s so gentle, so intimate. Tears form in Dream’s eyes and he leans forward to press his face against George’s stomach, kissing the wet skin there. George hums and holds him there with both hands on his head. 

“I have to tell you something,” He mumbles.

“What?”

Dream takes a long breath, memorizing the smell of George’s clean skin in case he never gets the chance again. 

“I love you,” He tells him simply. 

George laughs, petting his head, “Yeah, obviously.”

“No, George-” He stands up, deciding it might be better to have this conversation when he isn’t at eye level with George’s dick, “Like. In love. With you.”

“Oh,” He watches George’s face go soft, “Yeah?” 

Tears fill his eyes again, “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I’m dumb. I was just supposed to like, fuck you and I got all emotional because I love you, and now I’m making everything weird.” He looks up at the ceiling and watches the steam pour over the shower door. 

“Dream,” George sighs, a gentle hand coming to touch his face. 

“George,” He gives in and looks back at him. 

“If I didn’t- If I didn't feel that way too, the same way as you, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me,” He says, honest and soft. 

Hope jumps in Dream’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, idiot,” George smiles, “I just kind of figured you knew. Or that you could always tell, at least.”

“Always?” Dream furrows his brow, “How long have you…” He trails off, watching George’s face turn sheepish. 

“I dunno. A few years, I guess. Since I was like, 21,” He shrugs. 

“Since you were 21?” Dream’s hands shoot out to grab his waist, “George,”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever, I managed.”

“I’m sorry,” Dream pulls him against his chest, kissing the top of his wet head. 

“Stop apologizing, idiot. We’re in love now, or whatever, it’s fine,” He mumbles against Dream’s collarbone. 

“We’re in love,” Dream smiles. 

“Or whatever.”

He pulls back to take George’s face between his hands, squishing his cheeks until his lips puff out awkwardly. 

“What ‘r ‘ou doing?” George’s words are squished by the forced fish lips and Dream laughs, dipping down to kiss his wet mouth. 

“What is wrong with you? That was gross,” George complains when his face is released.

“It was cute, you were a fish.”

“And you were an idiot. Kiss me normally,” Hs demands. 

So, Dream does. 

Again and again and again, until their lips are numb and the water is cold. 

Notes:

dances around in a circle yayayay gnf virginity fic everyone cheered