Archive of Our Own ^beta

The weeks leading up to George's heat were Dream's favorite and least favorite time. The end of October would mark George's fifth heat spent with Dream- well, not with Dream, but since moving in with him about a year ago, back in November of '58.

Other than the obvious physical changes that accompanied an impending heat- George's scent sweetening and making their house smell more like a home, many slick-related accidents happening all around the house (sometimes even on Dream, if they were lounging on the couch together), and an increased sex drive that had George scurrying out of the room from even the tamest of teases- there was something else Dream looked forward to more.

He loved the way his typically-independent best friend and roommate became needy, clinging onto him physically and metaphorically. In all fairness, Dream wasn't the stereotypical alpha whose dream was to have omegas throwing themselves at him… but maybe he was if it was just one omega in particular.

Coming home to George having made dinner and waiting eagerly at the door for him was… well, it was a sight that Dream wished he could grow used to. He loved that George wanted to bend the rules and do more than society deemed omegas capable of- genuinely, he found George's aspirations inspiring… but when his heat creeped closer and his desires went from workplace ambitions to pleasing (for all intents and purposes) his alpha… Dream would be a fool to not appreciate it.

George would get bashful and apologize, adamantly blaming his inner for 'the mess' (the mess, meaning the full meal, fresh rose bouquet on the table, and emptied out cabinet or two- he always reorganized the cupboards during his preheat). Dream loved the mess and made sure to assure George of that plenty.

Dream couldn’t get enough of the way George would swoon at being told he was good, that the food smelled delicious, and how Dream had been looking forward to coming home all day so they could be reunited. As far as George knew, Dream was simply doing his best to play up the loving-mate role to decrease George’s likelihood of having a postheat drop- it was working too, George hadn’t dropped once since he moved in. Truthfully, Dream meant every lovesick word he told George, which made playing pretend equal parts second nature and torture.

They’d settled into a routine now- understood each other’s boundaries better. George wanted to be praised, cradled, scented, and kissed. Dream wanted anything George would give him. He’d learned all of George’s tells, which made sneaking out of the house much easier once George’s heat fully arrived. Thinking back on George’s first heat and how clueless they both were still made Dream chuckle.

"I'm sorry."

Dream looked up from where he was crouched on the floor to untie his shoes. He'd only been inside the house long enough to hang his hat on the rack and set down his briefcase by the door. When his eyes landed on George, he looked…

"Are you okay?"

"I’m really sorry."

To put it lightly, George looked like a wreck.

There was a sheen of sweat coating his skin, his bottom lip appeared bitten raw, his hair was completely disarrayed, like he’d been repeatedly running his hands through it… and he smelled- good god- he smelled so aroused.

He also wouldn't stop glancing towards Dream's bedroom.

Dream immediately felt sick to his stomach.

“Is there… is there someone in my house?” he asked. He couldn't tell if he was more terrified of the answer, or what would come of the poor fool if he found him.

“What? No- wait, no! That’s not- I’m not- Dream, wait!”

Dream couldn’t help but walk away- specifically, walk towards his bedroom, since that was where George was clearly trying to steer him away from. It would be one thing for George to have that type of guest over, but it was something else entirely for him to entertain them in Dream’s bed of all places.

He swung open the door to his bedroom, only to be hit with a wall of George’s aroused scent and… his own? There wasn’t even the mild scent of a beta lingering in the air.

“I’m gonna- obviously, I’m going to clean everything up! I didn’t mean to actually do anything, but then I came in here and it just- gosh, Dream- everything smelled so much like you and I couldn't stop myself. All I wanted was some of your clothes for my nest, I swear!”

“My clothes… for your nest?” Dream echoed slowly, his brain not even halfway caught up to whatever George was trying desperately to explain. His focus was being directed to more important things, like doing whatever he could to not show (or smell like) how aroused George’s scent was making him- what the knowledge of what George had done in his bed was doing to his mind.

“My heat is coming up and I’ve never been with- I mean, we’re not mates or anything, but my inner has just really taken a liking to you. I wasn’t going to borrow anything important, just some of your sleep clothes… and maybe one of your work shirts.”

He looked down to where George had moved to stand in front of him with both his hands held against Dream's chest.

"You didn't… you weren’t just having sex with someone in here?" Dream asked, despite his better judgment telling him it was time to walk away.

"What? Of course not!" George went from gently resting his palms on Dream's chest to clutching him by the collar of his jacket. "I'd never do that to my- you."

Lord have mercy.

My alpha… my alpha… I'd never do that to my alpha.

Dream couldn't shake the thought of what George had almost said. He'd been warned about this- that George was practically a different person when his heat was near- but he had no idea resisting it would be the hardest endeavor of his life.

"Say you're not mad at me," George requested quietly.

"I'm not mad at you, George," Dream answered through an exhale, hesitantly wrapping his arm around George's waist when he stepped close enough to lay his head against Dream's chest.

"Say you're not completely freaked out and want me to leave," he added.

"I promise I'm not freaked out, and I definitely don't want you to leave." Dream let out a sigh under his breath, feeling a little more confident in his ability to keep himself under control.

"Say I can… Say it's okay if I still bring some of your clothes to my nest."

That one made Dream chuckle. He rubbed his hand up George's spine, using his other to tuck some of George's hair back into place.

"You can borrow whatever you need to make your nest more comfortable." He smiled down at him, relieved to feel that the tension George was holding in his shoulders had finally relaxed away.

"I'm sorry I got off in your bed… and- ugh- definitely got slick on your sheets."

Well, self control gone.

"It's… alright."

Okay, maybe not quite gone, but severely depleted.

"Does it help if I say I made us dinner? It's probably almost ready to come out of the oven." George leaned back, looking up at Dream like he was still waiting to be scolded for something.

"Dinner sounds great. Why don't you go check on that?" Dream suggested, already nudging George towards the door.

"But your room-"

"I'll tidy it up, don't worry." Dream nodded, but the look on George's face was apprehensive at best. "You can come back after dinner and do a deep clean if it'll make you feel better."

That seemed to assure George.

"One last thing…" George turned back around, eliminating the small amount of space Dream had barely managed to create between them.

"George-"

"For my nest?" He tilted his head to the side, staring up at Dream with those irresistible doe eyes, looking far too innocent to be unbuttoning Dream's shirt. "Or maybe just for me? I, um… you kind of came home before I was done."

"Good heavens- I mean, sure- yeah, just… here," Dream said under his breath, stripping out of his jacket and dress shirt. George accepted the button-up with a hazy smile, like the shirt was worth more than its weight in gold, solely because of the scent it carried.

Needless to say, as soon as George was out of sight, Dream shut and locked the door behind him. He was struggling to get out of the rest of his clothes, already face-first in his bed, moaning into the pillows from how good the scent George left behind was.

Dream had been in a few relationships in the past, but he’d never been with an omega so close to their heat before. He should’ve known that his inner was going to have a field day with all the sweet pheromones and slick.

With his jaw clenched around a mouthful of sheets that were still ever-so-slightly dampened with slick, Dream came with a deep moan.

Dream left his room about fifteen minutes later, having taken a (hopefully) unsuspecting shower and started a load of laundry, only to find the kitchen empty and a faint smell of smoke in the air. The source of the smoke was easy enough to find- something indiscernible in a casserole dish being the culprit- but that left Dream with one question.

Where was George?

"Oh my god, I forgot the-"

Dream turned around once he’d pulled the dish out of the oven, only to find himself speechless once again.

All the hairs he'd just tucked into place on George's head were even more disarrayed than before, his face was still flushed from his paused… activities, and his clothes had been replaced with nothing more than the shirt he stole off Dream's back, misbuttoned by two rows.

"I'm gonna go… pick us up a pizza," Dream said a minute later, his eyes unmoved from George's body. He was thankful for his prior weakness, seeing that it was the only thing preventing him from sporting a very untimely erection. At least George had the excuse of his heat for his- Dream had literally just had his rut a few weeks ago.

"I'm sure I can, um, I can try to fix-"

"I'm leaving to get pizza, and you're going to… go finish what you were doing." Dream nodded his head, meeting George halfway across the kitchen to turn him around. His hands wrapped around George's waist, ushering him down the hall back to his bedroom. George twisted as much as he could to face Dream as they walked, turning around fully again once he was standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing. You warned me what your heats would be like… I'm fine, I promise." Dream smiled, holding the back of his fingers against George's cheek to feel the warmth he could see.

"Gee… yeah, it's getting close. Probably only two or three weeks away."

"Weeks!?" Dream flinched away. He thought this behavior meant it was more like two or three days- maybe even two or three hours. "How long am I going to be out of the house? I was expecting a week, but if it's more like a month-"

"A month? You're leaving me for a month?" George interrupted, his mind clearly going through a different type of panic than Dream's.

"George, you… you said to not listen to you when you're like this- that the regular you wants me to leave for your heat," Dream said apologetically, though he wasn't sure if the sorrow in his tone was for George or himself.

Sure, he could see himself building a real future with George, see them becoming mates, see them in a big house with a litter of pups playing in the yard and another on the way… but George didn't, and that was okay.

"Yeah, leave for my heat, not my preheat." George furrowed his brow and shook his head, appearing to already be working himself up about the thought of Dream going away. "I mean, like, why would you even say that? Is it- is it because I burned dinner? Why are you leaving me when-"

"It’s not! I won't- I won't leave, okay? Not until it actually starts. I'll… I'll stay at home- stay with you- until then," he interrupted, hugging George to his chest at the first sign of tears accumulating in George's lower lash line. "We'll just talk about this once you're out of heat, like, making sure the regular version of you actually wants me to stay for this part too. But until then, I'll stay. Promise."

It took a few minutes, but George seemed to settle back down. Dream had kept his chin resting on the top of George's head, swaying them gently from side to side.

"Well, now you can't even leave to go get the stupid pizza- you have to have it delivered," George grumbled against his neck with a sniffle.

"Why's that?" he asked, leaning back to look down at George's face.

"Because my inner is all clingy and insecure now, but I can't go out in public with you when I look like this." George furrowed his brow, gesturing to himself… reminding Dream of his lack of attire and the fact the only item George did have on was his.

"I mean, you technically could put on pants," Dream suggested with a smile, which grew a little wider when George scoffed at him.

"The pizza is being delivered here, or we're eating that burnt chicken bake for supper." George pulled away, but just barely. It took a lot more strength than Dream realized it would to not lean down and kiss the pout off of George's lips, so he settled for kissing his forehead instead.

The fact George looked disappointed it was only his forehead that he kissed meant Dream needed a way to put some distance between them before he did a lot more than just kiss him.

"I'll order the pizza- for delivery- and you'll go finish what you were doing. I'll wait in the living room for you." Dream smiled, letting out a shaky exhale.

George leaned forward to look around the corner, spotting the couch and how close it was. Just when Dream was going to offer to wait in his room to give George more privacy, George gave him one last pout.

"Not a centimeter further away than the couch. I'll be quick."

With the door to George's bedroom shut in his face, Dream walked backwards slowly until he stumbled against the wall with the phone. He was slowly- very slowly- processing that this was his life now. His friends and coworkers all warned him about living with an omega, but their reasons were so far from reality.

He was warned about having a 'freeloader' and a 'revolving door of alphas in his home' and 'all the cons but none of the pros of having a mate when they went into heat'.

No one warned him about falling in love, about coming home to that omega getting off in his bed solely because it smelled like him, and absolutely nothing about how hard it would be to stand ten feet away from that omega, listening to them touch themself, with the knowledge they were wearing nothing but his shirt.

It wasn't all bad though- they also hadn't mentioned anything about coming home to a house that smelled so sweet he'd have a hard time differentiating if it was George's pheromones, or if there was a dessert in the oven. No one told him there would be a blushing omega waiting for him to come home with a smile on his face and dinner already waiting on the table.

The progression was a lot to take in as the days went by. First, George was satisfied by knowing Dream was home, then he had to be in the same room as Dream, then he had to be touching Dream…

Needless to say, the morning George's heat fully began was both heartbreaking and a weight off Dream's shoulders. The last thing he or his inner wanted to do was leave the side of an omega in need- his omega in need. The only relief of leaving was the fact he could finally touch himself as much as he'd desperately needed to for the last few weeks, seeing that George rarely gave him enough privacy to get off properly.

Coming back from his hotel after giving George a week to get through his heat and then reset the house once it was done was… a rather disappointing return. George was still George, but he wasn't touchy, or needy, or throwing himself into Dream's arms when he walked through the door. He did give Dream an embarrassed smile and half his sandwich as a peace offering though, so that was good enough for Dream.

Almost immediately, George assured Dream that he would prefer if he continued to stay for the entirety of his preheats moving forward, which was a relief to say the least. Sometimes it felt like he’d known George his whole life, but other times- like this- he was reminded that it’d really only been a couple months since they met. In that short period of time, George had become an irreplaceable person in his life, and he’d hate to drive him away over a miscommunication.

It got easier with time, with practice.

George was at a challenging point in his life- twenty-seven and nearly at the end of his most fertile years. He’d still have heats well into his forties, but his biological clock had to make the most of his current fertility.

Ages twenty-one to twenty-nine were typically the most demanding mating-cycle-wise for omegas, and also the main reason why so many omegas were likely to be homemakers. It was nearly impossible for them to maintain a job when they were having four or more heats a year until that window of peak-fertility came to a close. Between the preheat haze and the likelihood of a postheat drop, there were barely any days left in their most crucial working years to establish themselves in a career.

George wanted to work, Dream knew and supported that, but he understood why it wasn’t a possibility for the time being. Plus, George came from old money, so it wasn’t like he was living off of Dream or burdening him in any way. Truthfully, Dream wouldn't have even minded if George needed to be supported financially.

In lieu of being able to get a traditional job, George referred to himself as an entrepreneur- having come from a long line of doctors and scientists. His bright mind could start a revolution, but there was so little time for George to make much progress on any of his grand ideas before another heat would begin.

George had left London in pursuit of work in America, where he’d heard times were changing and omegas had more opportunities to join the workforce. Dream quickly learned how crushed George was when he moved continents only to realize there wasn’t anywhere near as much progress in America as world politics made it sound.

Dream had no idea the turmoil George was feeling the night they met. Then again, Dream didn’t have much of an idea of anything that night.

Dream promised himself he’d be home before nine, but then nine came and went. Next, he said he’d be in bed by eleven. When the clock struck midnight, Dream stopped telling himself he’d be home anytime soon.

Two years out of law school and the youngest in his law firm to make senior associate- it was a night worth celebrating after all. His colleagues took him to every club in the city, somehow never running out of steam. Dream wasn't a big drinker, but that just made for an even better night- according to them.

Slumped over the bar at some club in a part of town he’d never been to, Dream finally escaped the never-ending party train that his colleagues started.

“I’ve seen roadkill in better shape than you.”

Dream perked up at the sound of a giggling accented voice. It must’ve taken him a bit too long to find the source, since when he did, there were also fingers snapping in front of his face.

“Hi,” Dream said with a smile… and a hiccup. He’d been doing that since the last club they visited and he really wished they’d stop.

“Hi?” the stranger answered, a very pretty- confused, albeit, but pretty nonetheless- smile on his face.

“‘M- I’m Dream.” He stuck out his hand, trying to sit up straighter, but nearly toppled over in the process.

“Maybe don’t make any sudden movements.” The man was chuckling at him, but Dream was just happy to keep a smile on his face. “Think maybe you should be going home soon… Dream?”

“Mmm, can’t-" Dream shook his head, trying to remember why he was sitting at the bar in the first place. “I think I got a job today? Or a- a better job, but like, at my job now? I got a good job instead of my other job, but it’s the same job-"

“You got a promotion?” he interrupted.

“That! I got that!” Dream pointed at him, his smile growing when the stranger figured out the word he couldn't find. Maybe he was in love and they could read each other’s minds- he’d heard fairy tales of fated mates being able to do that sort of thing.

“Well, congratulations.” He lifted his glass as a mock toast before taking a sip.

“How’d you know the word? Did you- can you read my mind? Are we mates- not mates, the other kind. The special ones that- oh, fated mates! Are we that?” Dream asked, stumbling over his words like an idiot, but the smile on the man’s face remained and that was all he cared about.

“Does that line usually work for you?” he asked back with a laugh, bright and warm sounding. Or maybe it was warm smelling- something was warm, and it wasn’t just Dream’s face.

“I dunno… I’ve never tried it before, so you tell me.” Dream shrugged.

“I think…” he trailed off, setting down his drink to face Dream. “You’re a little too sweet- and maybe dumb- to be an alpha. Can’t be my fated mate if you’re a beta.”

“Am too an alpha! I can, um, how do I-" Dream looked down at himself, wracking his mind for some way to prove he was what he said he was. “Oh, here!”

He jutted his hand back out, that time with his wrist held up. Surely light scenting would prove it- light scenting with a beta didn’t even do anything.

“Are you asking to scent with me- a stranger… in the middle of a club?” He raised an eyebrow at Dream’s hand.

“No, I’m asking to light scent. Scenting is way more- well, I’m sure you know what that is. But anyway, friends do this kinda stuff all the time.” Dream hiccupped a few more times but he was determined to get his point across.

“You don’t even know my name, but you’re suggesting we’re friends?” He giggled again, finding amusement in Dream’s lack of composure.

“Course not- this is for fated mates, not friends.” Dream tilted his head to the side, wondering if he was too drunk, or if maybe the other man was.

“Goodness- you’re clearly not going to ask, so hello, I’m George.”

Once it registered in Dream’s head and he was about to profusely apologize for missing the point, he was thrown head first into a world of roses and sugar crystals. Dream was left slumped over on the bar the same way their interaction began, while the slow glide of George's wrist continued across his.

In an act of desperation, Dream grabbed onto George’s hand before he could pull it away. It was warm, but also almost comically small. Okay, there was no ‘almost’ about it, since Dream had already started laughing.

“What?” George squinted at him, his eyes darting back to their hands.

“How do you- how do you even pick stuff up?” he asked through his giggles and hiccups, pushing himself up to a seated position so he could align his and George’s palms. He nearly fell out of his chair again while trying to see their hands from George’s perspective, wondering how much his fingers towered over George’s.

“You, Dream, are something else.” George shook his head as he stood from the barstool.

“And you, George… look like an angel,” Dream mumbled, having completely lost control of any mental filter.

“Okay, where are your buddies?” George asked, stepping closer to swivel Dream’s chair towards the crowd. When he looked down to find Dream staring up at him, he rolled his eyes and grabbed Dream by the jaw, manually turning his face forward.

“My vision’s kinda blurry- did I mention I don’t drink?” Dream asked, letting his head fall back again, deciding he missed looking at George more than he cared about finding the group he came with.

“Didn’t have to. Do you know your address?” George asked, turning around and throwing a couple dollars onto the bar.

“123 be my mate lane.” He smiled wide at George, proud to have gotten a laugh- or maybe a scoff- out of him.

“Stand up, I’m taking you to a taxi.” George tugged on his arm, so naturally Dream followed.

“I don’t actually live at one-whatever fated mates street,” Dream confessed once they were outside. The air was brisk, bringing him slightly back to his senses.

“I would’ve never guessed.” George rolled his eyes, but Dream was simply in awe that George was standing so close to him and that he'd kept their hands clasped together, even though there was no longer a crowd to pull him through.

“You’re nice.” Dream smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead on George’s shoulder.

“And you’re the only drunk alpha I’ve met who’s rather endearing- I’m actually experiencing cognitive dissonance because of it.”

“Smaller words, please.” Dream let out a whine, his mind hurting at the thought of using anything beyond an elementary-level vocabulary at the moment.

“You’re cute.”

Now that damn near launched Dream into orbit.

George definitely kept talking until the taxi pulled up, Dream vaguely recalled giving his real address to the driver, and he was pretty sure the ride home was filled with held hands and thumb wars- something about George wanting to prove he could do things with small hands.

“Go to bed, Dream.” George reached around Dream to open the car door, but the only thing Dream could focus on was how strongly George’s neck gland smelled when it was right in front of his face. For the first time in his life, the only thing Dream wanted to do was lean forward and take a bite.

“Hey- bedtime,” he repeated, snapping in Dream’s face again, just like their night began.

The cold air made a shiver crawl up Dream's spine, but he sort of liked it. He'd grown up in Florida, so the chill of a New York autumn was still enticing to him.

"How do- but when am I gonna see you next?" Dream asked, resting his head against the back of the seat.

"Goodnight, Dream." George shook his head and smiled, but it looked a bit sad. He couldn't explain it, but for a second Dream swore he'd fight god if it meant stopping George from ever being sad.

"I'll find you again, promise." Dream leaned forward, watching George's eyes widen the closer he got. At the last second, Dream turned to kiss George's cheek instead of his lips, figuring it'd probably be better if their first kiss wasn't in front of a total stranger.

Dream stumbled out of the car, leaning down to wave at George through the window. George was still shaking his head no, but his smile didn't look sad anymore and that was all Dream could've ever hoped for. The taxi hadn't even pulled away yet when Dream fell backwards into the dew-covered grass.

With the sound of tires pulling back onto the road and nightlife croaking in a nearby lagoon, Dream took a minute to gaze at the stars before he closed his eyes. As time passed and the alcohol in his system lessened, Dream realized the damp feeling on his skin wasn't dew, it was sweat.

"I see you're really taking this whole 'roadkill' thing to the next level."

Dream blinked his eyes open slowly, rubbing his head while he propped himself up on his elbows- he didn't even remember falling asleep on his lawn. Although he was much more aware of the sweat seeping through his clothes, he was convinced he must've still been dreaming.

It was George.

"You owe me a dollar-fifty for the cab, seeing that I only made it a few miles away before I had him turn around and bring me- Dream!"

"You're back!" Dream interrupted, pulling George to his chest and lugging him down to the ground with him.

"Oh my god- you big idiot. I came back to get you out of the yard, not to lay in wet grass with you." George groaned, but Dream couldn't be bothered if he was annoying George. "Come on- up, get up, Dream. There you go."

Slowly but surely, Dream dragged himself to his feet, following George to his front door. Everything was sort of a blur- getting the right key out, struggling to take off his shoes, falling down several more times- until Dream found himself in his bedroom.

George was clearly trying to be helpful- getting him pajamas and making jokes about his nimble fingers being better at getting buttons undone than Dream's larger ones, as he worked his way down Dream's shirt. Every brush of his fingertips against Dream's skin felt like a match striking against a matchbox.

Oh no…

"I got- um, I can- you should go. I have, uh, there's some cash on the-the dining room table, for um- a taxi, yeah. You can use that." Dream nodded his head desperately, but the fact George sat down on the edge of the bed meant his warning was lost on him.

"I was just kidding about you owing me money." George furrowed his brow with a confused smile.

Dream wasn't very proud of the whimper he let out when George reached out to touch the back of his hand to his face. Just a couple hours ago, Dream reveled in how warm George's hands were, but now they felt like ice against his skin.

"Hey, are you feeling alright? You said you don't drink, so I'm kind of worried that you're spiking a fever right now." George's voice was soft and gentle… caring… nurturing.

An omega wanted to nurture his needs.

"Not, um, I don't think it's a fever," Dream admitted, his breathing growing more shallow.

"Dream, don't start acting like stupid alpha on me now- you can't pretend you're not sick." George shook his head, reaching out his other hand to angle Dream's face towards him when he tried to look away. "Yeah, your pupils are all dilated too- something's definitely wrong. Did you hit your head?"

He couldn't pull George down onto his chest- he couldn't…

But what if he did?

"No-" Dream gasped, forcing himself away from that thought by sitting up, clearly taking George by surprise. He didn't want to scare him, but he was afraid that may no longer be an option.

"This isn't- I'm sorry, it's…" Dream was losing focus, his attention stuck on George's mouth. "God, help me," he mumbled, watching himself reach out to run his thumb across George's bottom lip, only to then trail down his neck and brush over his gland, almost like he was having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh, oh my- oh my god." George moved away from his touch, recoiling both of his hands. "Did I seriously trigger your rut?"

Well, at least he finally understood the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sorry," Dream said quietly, retreating his hand from George's neck. "I don't want you to go, but I can't- I've never, I mean- I have, but not when-"

"Relax." George chuckled, guiding Dream to lie back down. "Okay, not that kind of relax." George scoffed under his breath, shooing Dream's hands away from his waist. Dream didn't even realize he was trying to pull George on top of him, but now that the thought was in his head, it was all he could think about.

"Stay with me," Dream whispered.

"Dream, you literally just told me to go- and I don't even know you!" George let out a laugh, which felt rather cruel, but Dream was still lucid enough to appreciate the fact he at least got to hear it one last time- he couldn’t imagine George wanting anything to do with him ever again after this.

"Stay anyway." Dream jutted out his bottom lip and trailed his hands up George's arms, tugging him closer.

"I don't think so." George squinted, pursing his lips into a straight line. "But I do need some assurance that you're not going to chase after my cab like a dog in one of those cheesy films, so I’ll leave you with this." He sighed as he leaned upright, but surprisingly he took one of Dream's hands with him.

"What's that m- oh…" Dream broke off into a quiet moan. His breathing and heart rate slowed down to an almost-normal rhythm, and he suddenly felt moments away from sleep.

"Light scenting- good for greeting friends and subduing alphas in rut. Goodnight for real this time, Dream," George said with a smile as he laid Dream's arm back down onto his chest.

"Mm, love- I love you," Dream murmured.

He barely stayed awake long enough to hear George giggling at him, but it was a welcomed sound to fall asleep to.

The next three days were a blur- a lot of frustration, a lot of knotting, and a lot of destroyed pillows that would have to go out with the bins on garbage day.

It was Tuesday when Dream woke up from his rut, meaning he'd officially no-call-no-showed to his brand new position twice… What a great way to start in the department.

With a groan, Dream managed to lug himself out of bed and throw on his robe and slippers. He was surprised that his body didn't feel more sore, but then again, he was only in rut for three days instead of the usual six.

His day was already off to a rough start, but at least it smelled like breakfast was almost ready.

…

Who in god's name was cooking in his house?

Bleary-eyed and only half-alive, Dream grabbed the baseball bat he kept next to his bedroom door and slowly made his way down the hall. He could hear the sink running in the kitchen, there was a record playing jazz in the living room, and the smell of bacon was in the air.

With a final shaky exhale, Dream turned the corner with the bat raised, only to find the man he'd half-convinced himself was a rut-induced hallucination. When George looked up, the plate of toast he was holding fell to the floor, shattering with a crash loud enough to snap Dream back to reality.

"George?" Dream questioned under his breath, lowering the bat slowly.

"You're you again- I think." He tilted his head to the side, like he was examining Dream, then briefly glanced down. "Uh, sorry about the plate. You kind of scared the living daylights out of me." George chuckled awkwardly, fully turning his attention to the floor.

"Gee whiz, hang on-" Dream rushed, turning around to toss the bat down the hall before making his way to George. The shards of glass crunched under the soles of his slippers, but he was relieved to see nothing had cut George. He hooked his hands beneath George’s arms and lifted him straight off the ground.

"You know, most people would just bring the other person a pair of shoes- not pick a grown man up like a toddler," George said with an amused laugh.

"You weigh about as much as one," Dream mumbled absentmindedly, more focused on finding a safe place to set George down than coming up with an appropriate response.

"Uh, rude thing to say to the person who just made you breakfast." George crossed his arms over his chest, arguably making himself look more like a toddler in his current position.

"How did you- why are…" Dream trailed off, deciding it'd just be safest to carry George to the living room until the glass was all swept up. "What are you even doing here?"

And to that, all he got was a shrug.

"Okay- you think on that then." Dream furrowed his brow, but made his way back over to the kitchen. Honestly, after taking one look around, the broken plate was probably the least of his worries.

"Christ," he muttered, first turning off the tap, followed by the stove. He moved the bacon off the heat, relieved to see it at least hadn’t burned. After making quick work of cleaning up all the glass and toast he could find, Dream went back to the living room with one hand scratching the side of his head. He was struggling to come to terms with the fact any of this was real.

“How long have you been here?” He settled on, figuring that piecing together a timeline would maybe help him find some semblance of reality.

“I never left.” George looked away, then back at Dream when a minute went by without a response. “How about you start with what you remember.”

“Uh, everything until my rut began, I think. We met at… some club, I guess. You came home with me, my um, my rut was triggered, and then the last thing I recall was you light scenting me before you left- or didn’t leave, apparently.”

More silence ensued, but then George jumped to his feet.

“Oh, dammit- I told Henry I’d call him at eight-thirty and it’s nearly nine o’clock.” George let out a groan and walked over to the phone. He twirled the spiraled-green cable around his finger after he dialed the number he had scribbled on a post-it note stuck to the wall.

“Henry? Wait, you don’t mean my boss, Hen-"

“Hank! Hi, good morning- it’s George. I’m so sorry I’m late with giving you a ring- had a little mishap in the kitchen this morning. Anyway, oh- yes, yes, he’s back to normal… ish. Mhm… maybe- well,” George paused to glance over his shoulder at Dream. “Yeah, on second thought, there’s definitely no chance he’ll be in by lunch today. I’ll make sure he’s ready for his first day back tomorrow- yep! Okay- oh, and tell Gary and John they owe me a quarter! Okay, bye now.”

George hung up the phone with a sigh, his shoulders slumping like he was relieved to get his chore out of the way.

“Did you just call Dr. Henry Donavon… Hank?” Dream asked, in shock about too many things to determine which should be addressed first, as he watched George make his way back to the living room.

“That’s what he told me to call him when he stopped by on-”

“Stopped by? He was in my house!?” he interrupted in a panic.

If Dream had a shred more awareness of his surroundings, he probably would’ve jerked his hand away when George grabbed onto it. Once his senses were filled with the scent of a sweet breeze in a botanical garden, he was thankful George jumped on the opportunity to light scent him before his panic spiraled out of control.

“A few people stopped by Saturday morning to see if you made it home in one piece- no one even came inside. I said that you were going through a rut and I’d call each morning before the work day began to let them know if you’d be in. They were all very understanding about it, really. We even made a little bet about how long your rut would last- I won,” George explained slowly with a soft smile. He pulled his wrist away from Dream’s, returning both hands to his lap.

“That’s not what you wore on Friday… and it’s also not mine,” Dream mused, simply thinking out loud after taking in the fact George was wearing a light blue sleep set, his judgment a bit cloudy from light scenting.

“Well, I think I’d look a little ridiculous if I wore pajamas to a club.” George let out an amused scoff under his breath, but leaned back on the couch like he was rather familiar with the space.

George rolled his eyes when Dream didn’t acknowledge what he later realized was a joke. Hey- in his defense, he was still rather foggy in the head after going into his first triggered rut since his teen years.

“I tried to leave after I put you to bed on Friday- well, Saturday morning, technically- but there weren’t any cabs running that late. I figured since you started a rut, you wouldn’t be leaving your room anytime soon, so I helped myself to the guest room. I booked a cab back to my hotel after I woke up, but, well… ugh, my inner was driving me up a wall knowing I left you here alone, so I packed my things and came back.” George huffed once he was finished, like he didn’t want to admit the last piece of information, but he knew it needed to be said.

“And just being here appeased it?” Dream asked, trying to be as casual as he could about glancing over any of George’s exposed skin, checking for bruising or bite marks.

“Well, no- I checked on you while you slept. I’d bring you food and water, light scent you to keep you calm and asleep until I could get out of the room, stuff like that. I was in your room often enough that my scent stuck around a decent bit, so you never left your space to search for me.” George shrugged.

“Got it.”

Dream most certainly did not get it.

“Plus, I couldn’t leave knowing no one would be watching your cat,” he added.

“Huh?” he mumbled, tilting his head to the side.

“Your… cat?” All the color drained from George’s face and Dream could tell George already knew the next words that would come out of his mouth.

“I don’t have a cat.” He shook his head.

“Oh, um- speak of the devil." George let out a soft laugh. He leaned down just as a small brown and black tabby with a white stripe down the bridge of her nose emerged from under his couch. “I guess it makes more sense now why she’s always hiding- I thought she wasn’t used to me being here, not that she wasn’t used to being here… and also why I found her outside.”

"Babysitting an alpha wasn't enough- you had to mother a feral cat too?" Dream asked under his breath, torn between amazed and baffled by just about every aspect of George's existence.

"She is not feral, don't be rude." George furrowed his brow at Dream, but quickly returned his attention to the cat when she crawled into his lap. The second her eyes landed on Dream, she froze- aside from her tail, which immediately poofed.

"This outta be great," he muttered, slowly scooting further back in his chair to create more distance between them. If it wasn't obvious, Dream grew up with dogs, not cats- not that he disliked cats, he just had no experience with them.

"Well, I've already domesticated her, so you can't throw her back outside now." George shrugged. He petted along her spine, which seemed to be enough to soothe some of her anxiety. Dream half-wondered if it would have the same effect on himself.

"So, let me get this straight- in the span of three days… you broke into my house, scented me when I was unconscious, brought a wild animal into my home, and-"

"And made breakfast," George interrupted with a timid smile.

"And… made breakfast." Dream let out a soft laugh while shaking his head. He was still dazed and confused, but he was coming to terms with the fact that maybe adopting a stray cat (and stray omega) wasn't the worst thing in the world to wake up to after a rogue rut. George seemed relieved by Dream's suddenly relaxed demeanor.

"Plus, you're making it sound so bad. We've already discussed the cat, so no need to dwell on the subject. And I didn't break in- I took your key with me whenever I left the house. It's not like I was crawling in through windows, like some burglar. As for the light scenting, I mean, you just sounded like you were in a lot of pain and it really helped you relax. Are you seriously going to look me in the eyes and say that wasn't one of your easiest ruts?" George asked.

"Well, I mean- it was only a few days, so that's why I'm not sore," Dream justified, though he was beginning to question his original belief.

"Uh, a rut triggered by an omega and then spent without an omega is, like, torturous. In all reality, you should actually be thanking me for coming back and for all the scenting I did. You'd be miserable and probably still in rut right now had I not." George raised his eyebrows, like he was testing the waters to see how far Dream would let him go.

"Why do you know so much about ruts?" Dream asked, unable to hold himself back. Even if George lacked a mating mark, maybe he was in a previous courtship and that was how he learned. Dream couldn't explain why, but he just needed to know.

"Most of my family are doctors- my father is an alpha specialist. This was basically dinner-table talk growing up." George shrugged, which apparently was too much movement for the skittish cat, seeing that she jumped off George's lap and ran back under the couch.

"Wow," he mumbled under his breath, tracking George when he stood up and started heading toward the kitchen.

"I mean, I technically didn't know it worked for sure until I tried it on you," George said over his shoulder.

Dream smiled at that- George's subtle way of saying he'd never spent an alpha's rut with them. Considering Dream had hazy memories of accidentally implying he was a virgin to George- only to then struggle to correct himself that he meant he'd never been with an omega during a rut- it was kind of a relief to know he wasn't the only one lacking experience.

"Well, it's more like lukewarm breakfast now, but food is food, so eat." George returned with a plate of bacon and eggs, seeing that the toast was sitting in the trash amongst the glass shards.

After accepting one of the forks George held out to him, Dream took a bite of the eggs. He couldn't hide his grimace- both from the cool temperature and the abundance of salt.

"Did I mention I'm not a great cook outside of my heats?" George asked sheepishly after taking his own bite to see what was worth making such a fuss about.

"Bacon is good hot or cold, but how about I make us some fresh eggs?" Dream suggested with a laugh. He was rather unsuccessful in hiding the fond look on his face when George leaned over to place a small piece of bacon on the floor, only for a cat paw to immediately drag it away.

"Over easy?" George asked with a smile.

"I take requests from home intruders now?" Dream asked sarcastically in return, chuckling at the immediate look of judgment on George's face.

Once Dream was alone in his kitchen, the nuance of it all started to fade and he was left with reality staring him in the face. George was a stranger… Even if Dream didn't want him to be one, that didn't change what he was for the time being.

"Say, George-" Dream called out before lighting the burner again, figuring frying eggs in bacon grease was as good as any other kind of oil.

"Why would I say my name?" George asked rhetorically from his new place of being leaned against the kitchen door frame.

"Who are you, what do you do, why are you in America- how long will you be in America?" Dream rattled off. If he was currently lucid enough to think of relevant questions, he was going to ask as many as he could.

"I'm George Davidson, I like to think of myself as an entrepreneur, I came here for work, and I don't know how long I'll be staying. I haven't purchased a new ticket for a return flight to London yet." George held up a finger with each question he answered.

"A new ticket… so, that means you're going back?" Dream asked hesitantly. The eggs sizzling in the pan was the only sound in the kitchen for a few terribly-slow seconds until George sighed.

"I didn’t think I would- at least not so soon, but… plans change, I guess." George moved to enter the kitchen, hopping up to sit on the counter beside where Dream was tending to the eggs.

"What changed that made you stay?" Dream asked after flipping the eggs and removing the pan from the hot burner, then turned around to put some fresh bread into the toaster.

"You."

Dream let out a small scoff and glanced over his shoulder at George with a smile, only George's face didn't look like he was joking.

"Wait, don't tell me you missed your flight because you stayed for my rut." Dream diverted all his attention back to George, even though George didn't seem appreciative of it.

"It's more complicated than that," he muttered. George hopped down from the counter and walked around Dream, finishing the task of getting the toast started. "Yeah, my inner wasn't happy about the idea of leaving an alpha in rut or whatever, but that's not the only reason why I chose to miss my flight on Sunday," he continued without turning around.

Dream decided to follow George's lead and pick up a random task, seeing that George clearly wasn't a fan of the whole undivided-attention thing. Once the sink was running and Dream began washing a few dishes, George went back to explaining himself.

"I came here for opportunities- for a chance to do more than just be a homemaker. The newspapers all made it sound like America was changing for the better when it came to equality for omegas, but I've been here for a month and the only thing I ever leave interviews with are unwanted business cards with the instruction they were for 'personal use' only. I'm college educated, well-spoken, and innovative… but alphas take one look at me and come to the preconceived conclusion that I'm nothing more than a baby factory." George scoffed harshly under his breath and Dream was starting to worry about the integrity of the toast, considering how roughly George was buttering it.

"That's… I'm so sorry," Dream said quietly, pausing his dish washing.

"And, no offense, but you're kind of no different- I mean, I held your hand for five minutes and you went into a damn rut."

Dream cringed, even though George couldn't see it. His only assurance was the soft laugh George let out and the fact he leaned closer to him until their backs were gently resting together.

"I'm also sorry about that." Dream took a leap of faith and leaned into their reversed form of an embrace a bit more. When he turned his head to the side, George's hair was hanging over his shoulder… and it smelled like his shampoo.

"Don't be-" George lifted his head and tapped the back of it against Dream's shoulder a couple times. "Because even if your inner alpha saw me as nothing more than an omega, you didn't- drunk, in rut, and sober. You treat me like a person and you have no idea how much that means to me- how much I needed that when we met. That night, I was ready to give up in more ways than just going back to London… and then I met you."

"I don't know what to say," he whispered.

"Say the eggs are done, because I'm really hungry," George whispered back, successfully making Dream chuckle, lightening the mood.

"They're done, yeah. The plates are in the-"

"Cabinet over the fridge, I know. Only a tall idiot like yourself would make something as basic as plates inaccessible to the general public," George interrupted. By the time Dream turned around, George was already standing on his counter with the cabinets opened.

"In my defense, the general public isn't usually in my kitchen," he quipped back. Despite his sarcasm, he couldn't stop himself from spotting George, hovering his hands around George's waist while he lowered himself back to the ground.

"You know," George started, throwing the toast onto the plates before moving to the stove to serve the eggs as well. "You've asked a lot of questions about me, but I still don't know anything about you."

"Pfft, that's not true. You know where I keep the plates," Dream said matter-of-factly. "Actually, I mean, you do know a considerable amount. You know I'm a lawyer, my coworkers, my boss- you know your way around my house, or at least my bathroom, since you smell like my bath products."

"You sniffed my hair?"

"Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that-"

"But it wasn't weird when you called me a burglar and animal smuggler?" George interrupted, holding out Dream's plate with a knowing look on his face.

"Anyway, what did you want to ask me?" Dream pivoted the conversation, deciding there was no winning the argument.

"Why haven't you asked me to leave?"

Dream slowed his pace, trailing behind while George continued on into the living room. It wasn't until then that he realized not only had he not asked George to leave, but the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He wasn't sure if that had more to do with George as a person, or his own lack of self preservation.

"Well, it'd be kind of rude to kick you out on an empty stomach," Dream answered, offering George a smile when he finally caught up and resumed his seat in the chair beside the couch. The look on George's face was anything but amused when he met Dream's gaze. "I don't know- seriously! I just- you're nice company to have… and I'm not really used to being alone, I guess."

George leaned away, not in an offended way, but in a confused way.

"Did you just end a courtship or something?"

Dream laughed a bit too hard at that- definitely harder than George expected him to. If anything, his pathetic excuse of a love life was the opposite of funny. He'd barely made it to the 'boyfriend-girlfriend' stage of relationships, never having gotten close to being in an established courtship.

"No, nothing like that. I grew up in a house with four siblings, then moved into the dorms for university, then into a crappy apartment in the city with three roommates just to make rent during law school. I've only had this house for a few months and it's the first time I've ever really been alone before. Hell, I'm pretty sure the only reason I even got that promotion at work is because I'm usually there all hours of the day and night just to avoid coming home to an empty house." Dream looked down at the end, not intending for his explanation to come off so sad.

“You’re lonely,” George summarized, his tone a mix between empathetic and pitying. For some reason, hearing his long winded explanation summed up in two words made it that much more pathetic sounding.

“Isn’t everyone?” he asked with a half-smile. When he looked up, it seemed like there was something George wanted to say, but he was holding himself back. "Come on, just spit it out, George." Dream's smile felt a little less sad when he watched George huff after being called out.

"You don't want to be alone and I don’t want to go back to England… Whatever, I don't care how bonkers I sound- what if I just stay, like, here… with you?" George pitched, anxiously tugging on his fingers.

"George, that's-"

"I have plenty of money- I won't be a burden! And I'll keep looking for a job! Plus, I mean- I know you can't tell right now since I'm between cycles, but I'm actually a really great cook during my preheats and I clean everything. Oh, and-"

"George, relax." Dream reached out to hold onto George's wrist, gently pulling his hands apart. Dream was just trying to get him to stop before he dislocated a finger, but George took it as an invitation to light scent again.

Dream's eyes fluttered shut and his head started to feel heavy. An omega light scenting him when he was stressed or panicked was a good way to bring him back down to baseline, but being scented while he was already at his baseline made staying conscious quite the challenge.

"Did I mention fresh rain is my favorite scent?" George asked a second later once he realized he went a little overboard with the light scenting.

"Mmm, roses are my favorite flower," Dream mumbled back. Truthfully, he’d nearly forgotten that light scenting went both ways- that George was experiencing his own scent, which he’d grown nose blind to long ago.

"Don't send me back to London," he whispered, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I don't recall asking you to leave." Dream slowly blinked his eyes open, partially convinced he was about to wake up alone in his living room and that none of this was real- it all felt too good to be true.

"Well, you can't give me a proper answer now- I just scented you into submission, it wouldn't be right." George shook his head with a small smile.

"Did you- did you just call an alpha submissive?" Dream tried to scoff, but it came out more like a weak cough.

"Gonna argue I'm wrong?" George asked, unlike Dream, he successfully produced a scoff. When Dream opened his mouth to rebuttal, George glided his wrist over his again, and Dream went back to being a human puddle.

"Cheater," Dream grumbled, letting his head fall onto his shoulder.

Apparently his subdued state was enough to gain some of the cat's trust, seeing that she willingly jumped into his lap. Her eyes were wide, but despite her look of apprehension, she laid down on his thighs.

"She still needs a name," George said quietly, like he was also trying not to startle her.

"How about Feral-Dumpster-Girl?" Dream suggested with a sleepy smile, glancing up just in time to see George's disapproving scowl.

"I pity the omega who ends up your mate if that's how you name things." George rolled his eyes and slumped back on the couch. If Dream had to guess, he'd say George was just jealous the cat chose him for the time being.

"Pretty bold thing to say as the omega who's supposed to be my fated mate or something." Dream raised his eyebrows at George, smiling a little wider when George's cheeks flushed.

"Or something," George mumbled back.

Dream made the mistake of trying to pet the cat, which resulted in a hiss and her scurrying off his lap until she was safely hidden under the couch again. That seemed to bring a smile back to George's face. Dream let his eyes fall shut again, figuring if he had an omega's pheromones coursing through his system, he might as well use them to take a nap.

"I'm not looking for a mate."

"Hmm?" Dream struggled with it, but he managed to open his eyes again.

"I just don't want to give you the wrong idea is all. I'm not trying to mate, or be in a courtship, or even have a heat partner. I really just… want to be treated like a person," George explained quietly.

"You don't have to ask me to treat you like a person- I'm always going to do that." Dream smiled, allowing his eyes to rest. "Plus, I'd like for my future omega to not try killing me with a sodium overdose whenever they cook."

"You're such an idiot."

Dream hummed, happy to hear the smile in George's tone again.

They'd come a long way- eleven months under the same roof, four heats, and one cat they co-parented. Dream still liked to call her 'dumpster gal', but George declared that her official name was Patches.

George had also come a long way with his own goals. He had two main projects that was working on- one a far off medical advancement that would allow omegas to predict and even prevent heats, and the other an invention that he was actually able to create prototypes of in the last six months.

He called them 'scent blockers' because that was exactly what they did- they blocked the scent of the person wearing them. Not only did omegas trigger alphas’ ruts, but alphas could send an omega into heat with their pheromones as well. George had created small sticker-like patches that could be placed overtop the neck and wrist glands, muting the scent of their wearer.

George spent his days canvasing the city, meeting with executives and business offices to pitch his ideas. Even when he'd come home empty handed, he'd still tell Dream everything about his day with a smile on his face.

Dream liked his life. Of course, there were areas where he still craved more, but that just gave him something to look forward to. Primarily, the things he desired were George (and thus mate) related, but Dream wouldn't allow himself to cross the line George drew in the sand their first real day spent together.

Though, that didn't mean George didn't occasionally blur the line- the beginning of his third heat being one of those occasions.

He was one week into his preheat, but it seemed a little different compared to the other heats Dream had been around for- stronger, if that made sense. George had been refusing to wear any of his own clothes, leaving him strutting around their house in nothing more than one of Dream's shirts most of the time- today being no exception.

"George- hey, relax. What are you even trying to accomplish?" Dream asked with a chuckle, setting down his book over the armrest of his chair when George went from sitting in his lap peacefully to… whatever the hell he was doing now.

"I just- it's not enough, Dream," he whined in return, fully turning around to face Dream with his legs straddled over his lap. In an act of desperation (desperation for what, Dream didn't know), George pulled on Dream's shirt, untucking it so his palms could be on Dream's skin.

There were two weeks left until George's heat began- his third heat since moving and possibly his final one before his twenty-eighth birthday. He was coming toward the end of his prime years of fertility, so his heats were guaranteed to be increasingly intense from then on. Dream could even feel his own inner being drawn to George more than usual, seeing how distressed he was.

"George- Jesus- you can't crawl inside my skin! And that tickles-" Dream pushed George's hands away, growing a little too overstimulated by the way they freely roamed his back and abdomen.

"But why not?" George asked with a pleading look. He dragged his hands up to Dream's cheeks, squishing them slightly.

"Because that's not even poss-"

George leaned forward to kiss him, taking him by surprise. They'd kissed plenty of times, but it was usually reserved for the final days before George's heat- never when he still had weeks left. As gently as he could, Dream guided George to lean back and separate their lips.

"It's not time for that yet, angel," Dream murmured sadly, cupping George's cheek in his palm.

"It still wasn't close enough anyway," George grumbled, dropping his head to Dream's shoulder. Before Dream could think of the words to assure him, George nosed at his scent gland, which was… relatively new. Then he ran his tongue over it, and that was definitely new territory for them.

"George, that's- that-" Dream stuttered, his mind starting to go blank with every lap of George's tongue and press of his lips.

"That's what I need- your scent. You have to scent me." George all but moaned against his neck, diving back in to lick and kiss Dream's gland again.

It wasn't until Dream had to pry his hand away from George's ass that he even realized he was grabbing it in the first place. Regardless, he reached up to get one of George's arms, trying to unwrap it from around the back of his neck.

"No- scent me, Dream. Real scent, not light scent. I need- please- I just need more of you in me."

God, give him strength.

“No one scents outside of sex, George. We can’t.” Dream leaned away as much as he could, despite every fiber of his being telling him to let George do whatever he wanted with him.

“Yeah, and no one moves in with a total stranger the same day they met, but we basically did that. Come on, Dream. Please?”

Damn George, damn how desperate his eyes looked when he wanted something, and damn himself for knowing he was about to cave.

“George, you know we-”

“Don’t you want to? I’m your- you have an omega in your lap, wearing your clothes, and you’re saying you don’t even wanna scent with me just a little?” George interrupted. Dream couldn't tell if George was trying to challenge him, or if he was on the verge of tears.

“Of course I want you,” he mumbled, moving his hand back to stroke it through George’s hair.

If only George- regular George- knew how genuinely he meant those words, that it wasn't a mistake when he said 'want you' and not 'want to'.

“Then have me,” George whispered against his lips before bringing them together again.

Dream’s strength was running out and his inner was seconds away from taking the wheel- which would result in a lot more than just scenting happening. In an attempt to regain control over the situation, Dream threaded his fingers through the hair on the back of George’s head, then pulled just hard enough to separate their lips.

George was doing half the work for him, but he wasn’t jutting his neck out to be scented- no, it was very clear there was something else he was asking Dream to do to him.

In a moment of weakness, Dream planted his lips against George’s gland, struggling to ward off his every instinct to sink his teeth in.

“Dream, please just-”

He couldn’t survive hearing the words- hearing George explicitly ask to be marked by him- so he did the only thing he knew was guaranteed to shut him up.

He scented him.

Dream had wondered too many times to count how it would feel to scent with George. Needless to say, none of those fantasies came close to the real thing. He could taste sugar crystals on his tongue, he could smell a mid-summer breeze through a rose garden, he could feel the warmth from the sun on his skin.

Even when George had gone fully limp in his arms, Dream couldn’t stop himself from continuing to rub their neck glands together. With each glide of their skin, it was like he was ascending to heaven- or, well, something was rising.

“Alpha.”

Dream’s eyes shot open and it was like he was plunged back down to Earth with the force of a thousand winds.

“Christ, sorry- I’m so sorry-”

“Bring me… take me to my nest,” George mumbled, sounding a mix between half-asleep and drunk.

“Okay, I can- yeah, I’ll carry you.” Dream brushed his thoughts aside, but the second he shifted in his seat, he felt it.

Slick.

So… much… slick.

George had gotten the smallest amounts of it on him before- nothing more than usually a quarter-sized wet spot on his pants- but this wasn’t like those times. The entirety of his lap was damp with it- more than just damp in some places… specifically where his erection had been pressing against George’s ass.

He’d never been so turned on and embarrassed at the same time in his life. He could only hope George was in too much of a haze to notice.

After letting out the breath he’d been holding, Dream made the smart decision to breathe through his mouth to avoid smelling the slick. He could take care of his problem in the privacy of his own room after he dropped George off in his nest.

George’s room looked like a war zone- he’d only started his preheat about a week prior, so this was usually when the first wave of reorganizing and nest-making would take place.

“Here you go, George… George?” Dream was trying to set him down, but George was clearly using whatever remaining strength he had left to keep himself clung to Dream’s chest.

“I don’t- my nest doesn’t smell enough like you yet. You have to stay.” George whined into his neck, nosing at his gland in the same way that started their whole endeavor.

“You rarely even let me in your room once your preheat starts- never your nest. Let me just bring you back some of my clothes, okay? I’ll be right- George.” Dream let out a sigh, deciding it’d be better for his back in the long run if he kneeled on the ground beside George’s bed, seeing that it appeared George wasn’t going to comply with letting go of him anytime soon.

“They’re getting worse,” George said through a whimper. For a second, Dream felt like he was talking to regular George again. He had the occasional moment of lucidity this early on in his preheats, so it wouldn't be unheard of.

“Your heats? I guess that makes sense, you’re getting down to the last couple years,” Dream mumbled sympathetically, moving one of his hands to rub up and down George’s back.

“I’m gonna start dropping again if I don’t… ugh, if I don’t find a mate soon.”

Dream froze, torn between nauseated and determined. If George needed an alpha, Dream was the first man in line… It was just the thought of all the other alphas in that line that made him feel like he was going to be sick.

"What can I do?" Dream asked.

"I think I've already asked for too much." George leaned back and offered him a half smile.

"I promise you haven't," Dream said through a soft laugh, turning his face to stay in George's line of sight when he tried to look away. "Come on, George- just tell me what you need."

"Right now… I just need you in my nest with me." George sighed under his breath before facing Dream with an apologetic look. Without a doubt, Dream knew there was so much more George wanted to ask for.

"And maybe we could scent again?" Dream pitched, watching a spark of hope return to George's eyes before he attempted to dampen it.

"Maybe." George squinted at him while scooting back on the mattress to make room. When Dream shifted to stand, he felt the cool wetness from George's slick clinging to him. What a terrible thing to remember.

"I think- uhm- I should change first." Dream swallowed, hoping the slow return of his erection wasn't noticeable yet.

"I mean, if we're going to scent again, the same thing is gonna happen. Why would you dirty more clothes?" George asked with his head tilted to one side, like there was no other reason Dream would need a moment alone.

"George-" Dream let out a sigh under his breath, figuring it was time to bite the bullet. "You're my best friend… but you're also an omega whose slick is coating my lap, and at the end of the day, I'm still an alpha."

"That's it!"

Dream flinched away, surprised by George's wave of euphoria. He thought his admission would bring tension, not relief.

"What's it?" he asked, confused by the way George was tugging him onto his bed with much more exertion than before.

"You're an alpha and my inner is attached to you, but your scent calms me. My inner is getting so restless because it needs to feel desired by an alpha, not subdued by one. If I can fill my nest with not just your scent, but your scent when you're aroused, it'll fix everything! I won't need to find a mate anymore!"

He was so close to the point… but still missed it.

"George, I couldn't possibly-"

"You told me to tell you what I need, that it wouldn't be too much," George interrupted. Dream was having a hard time discerning if George was throwing his words back at him, or if he was questioning why Dream would go back on his promise so soon.

"What exactly are you saying? Like, what is it that you want me to do in your nest right now?" Dream asked, finally taking the leap of faith to join George in his bed. It was almost unfathomable that less than a year ago this was a perpetually-vacant guest room. George had transformed the space into one of Dream's favorite places in the house- no matter how messy it got at times.

"As far as you're willing to go- whatever it takes to keep you smelling like this." George nodded slowly, guiding Dream to hover over him.

"How do I know you're not already too far into your preheat mindset to make this decision?" he asked.

"Dream, I'm still me… enough." George smiled softly, like he was amused by Dream's concern.

Dream nodded his head, deciding it would somehow be less incriminating to lay beside George instead of climbing overtop of him. In hindsight, he was an idiot for giving George the freedom of not being pinned down- an idiot, or maybe just an alpha. If George in his right mind was present, he'd argue those two things were one and the same.

"What'cha doin' up there?" Dream asked, slowly dragging his hands up to hold George around his hips.

"Figured I should keep my mess to one spot." He shrugged.

Before Dream could ask what he meant by that, George laid himself down on his chest and immediately dove back into scenting him. On instinct, Dream's hips thrusted into the air, which in turn pressed his erection against George… against where George was still pant-less and trickling warm fresh slick onto him.

"I can't- I, oh my fuck- George, please," Dream warned, struggling to speak through the feeling of George's pheromones re-entering him. It felt even stronger than the last time, like his body knew how to handle it now. Unfortunately, handling it meant rocking his hips with increasing fervor in a desperate attempt to find some way out of his pants and into George.

George broke their scenting with a moan that sounded like he was just as eager for the act that typically accompanied scenting to happen.

With the constant influx of George's pheromones ceased, Dream was at least able to pause the embarrassing grind of his hips. Even so, his body was itching for more, for their necks to touch again, for the drip of George's slick to continue permeating his clothes.

"George, I- I need to go touch myself, or I'm gonna be sick." Dream whined, finally recognizing the twisting in his gut as the discomfort associated with edging himself.

"Just do it here- please don't go," George mumbled against his skin where he'd kept his face tightly tucked into the crook of Dream's neck.

Dream whimpered at the request, his hips giving a final involuntary thrust. George was wrapped around him completely, leaving him no opportunity to escape if he tried. His lungs were starting to ache from his staggered breathing and his inner was clawing its way to the surface.

"George, you're- you don't even have any goddamn pants on, and I'm-"

"You're what? An alpha? I know, Dream! Stop saying you're an alpha and try acting like one!" George interrupted, actually pulling himself away from Dream's neck long enough to look into his eyes. Dream didn't have the chance to truly process George's interjection before their lips were pressed together and George was moaning into his mouth.

"But you said no heat partners," Dream mumbled between kisses, cursing his greedy hands for aiding the roll of George's hips.

"Who said- who said anything about no heat partners?" George questioned, propping himself up to fully straddle Dream. All the air was punched out of his lungs from the added pressure, but asphyxiation had never felt so good.

"You- back when we first… yeah," Dream trailed off, figuring he wasn't really in the position- or headspace- to be making any kind of logical points.

"Fine, then this isn't a heat partners thing… this is- this can just be two friends having casual sex." George nodded, already reaching down and unbuttoning Dream's slacks.

"Nothing about this is casual," Dream murmured, reaching up to guide George's face back to his.

George looked beautifully sad, like the smallest lucid part of himself knew exactly what Dream meant by that.

"If you want me to keep smelling like this, then come back down here and scent me again. I'll just… I'll do what I need, and you can lay beside me." Dream lugged George off his chest so they were both on their sides and lying face-to-face, making it less likely for either of their inners to be able to manipulate the position.

"Sometimes I wish you were just a little bit dumber of an alpha," George grumbled against Dream's lips. His kiss almost felt spiteful, but Dream smiled into it nonetheless.

"There's nothing I wish was different about you," he countered in a whisper, knowing he'd won when George wrapped his arms around the back of his neck and pulled himself closer. "Not your scent, not your inner, not even the way you still almost set the house on fire at least once a heat when you forget about dinner in the oven."

George laughed at the last one, which helped Dream relax enough to do what his body had been begging for. Considering George had already completed the task of undoing his button, shimmying out of his pants was no challenge at all.

"Uh-uh," Dream warned, holding George in place when he swung his leg over Dream’s hip and tried to roll Dream onto his back again. "No whining- shh- I need you to do something for me."

Dream lowered his face to George's neck, which he'd already started to strain in Dream's direction. They were in too compromising of a position for Dream to let himself kiss George's gland for too long. In sync with his hand sliding down to George's ass, Dream leaned forward and brought their neck glands together once again.

If George wasn't a whimpering mess before… that changed the second he processed exactly what Dream's hand was doing back there. Dream had never heard George, or anyone for that matter, sound so desperate for something.

Dream had slipped his fingers between George's cheeks, occasionally sinking two inside. Then occasionally turned into consistently, and Dream didn’t know how he could go on living after experiencing George fucking himself on his fingers.

It was growing increasingly hard to focus on anything between the feeling of George's scent growing stronger inside himself, the sounds George was letting out, and the feeling of warm slick trailing down his wrist.

Oh, that was right- he was just trying to get some of George’s slick for himself.

Once Dream pulled his hand away, he immediately brought it to his dick, letting out a guttural-sounding moan from the contact. He expected more pushback from George, seeing that his innocent endeavor to gather slick had unintentionally turned into him fully fingering George, but the more his own pleasure grew, it seemed the more George's did as well.

He could feel something building inside of him- more than just his climax approaching. It was like their excessive scenting was allowing him to feel George's orgasm nearing as well, which made it make a lot more sense why George was so pleased when Dream finally touched himself- he must’ve been able to feel Dream’s pleasure too.

"You've never smelled so good before," George murmured. It was an obvious distraction, considering George wasn't being the most subtle with the way he dragged his hips closer to Dream's, going as far as hiking his leg over the arm Dream was using to stroke himself.

"'M not gonna fuck you, no matter how crazy you make me." Dream shook his head with a dizzy smile, rubbing their noses together in the process.

"Just finish inside me then."

Dream wasn't proud of the fact George's request was what tipped him over the edge, but he truthfully couldn't believe he even managed to last a few minutes in the first place.

There must've still been a considerable amount of his pheromones in George’s system, because it was like he knew when Dream's orgasm was going to happen before he did- which he used to his advantage. George grabbed onto Dream’s wrist and angled it upward, contorting himself as much as he could until Dream’s cock was sinking inside of him the second he started to come.

"George!" Dream gasped, finding himself with two dire issues in need of immediate attention, but only enough will power to address one of them. He could either pull out… or he could stop himself from marking George's neck gland. He went with the latter.

At the last second, Dream turned his face to the side, sinking his teeth into George's shoulder instead of his neck. That being said, he had no more self control left to stop himself from burying his dick as deep in George as the angle allowed. He swore that was the closest to actually growling that he'd ever gotten. The only thing Dream would’ve changed about the moment was that he wished he were in rut, that way he could’ve knotted George.

"You little…" Dream muttered as soon as released George's shoulder from his clenched jaw. He was hardly aware of where his hands had ventured to while his brain was on an orgasm-induced vacation, but apparently one of them had been holding George firmly by his waist to keep him in place, and the other was wrapped around George’s dick, which was still leaking come over his knuckles.

"You started it," George mumbled, snaking a hand between them to gently touch his shoulder. "And you missed my gland- how the hell did you miss?"

Dream let out a laugh. Leave it to preheat-George to be upset he didn't mark him without as much as taking him on a proper date first, let alone having a conversation about it.

"You'll thank me in a month, idiot." Dream leaned forward, placing a kiss on the indents he left on George's skin. He felt a pang of guilt at the sight of a small amount of blood oozing from the marks his canines left.

"Says who?" he grumbled, followed by digging his nails into Dream's back when he started to pull out. Dream wasn't sure if it was better or worse to pull out slowly, but in fear of hurting him, he figured slow was probably best.

Dream pulled George onto his chest once he was settled on his back. George straddled himself over Dream and he already suspected that would be an issue sooner-versus-later if George stayed in his current position. For the time being, Dream let him be comfortable, seeing that he didn't want George to move either.

"What if you do that again? Like, we add that to the stuff we do during my preheats now?" George requested, turning his face to the side so his nose could bump against Dream's gland.

"What? Kind-of-but-not-really sex?" Dream asked in return with a scoff. "You're lucky you're still a few weeks away from your heat, or we would have run the serious risk of adding a couple pups to this household."

"Ugh, I just know your pups are going to be Tasmanian devils- they'll probably kick my pelvis for nine months straight," George grumbled, which made Dream laugh.

Then he processed the fact they were, quite literally, talking about having children together. That was- like a few other things with this preheat- a new development for them. Usually, the closer his heat got, the more George would make references to sex, knotting, and had slicked-related accidents around the house… but talk of children- not just 'knotting and breeding'- was uncharted territory.

"Yeah, but… they'd look just like me, so you'd love them." Dream slowly ran his hand up and down George's back, knowing all too well that he was playing with fire by indulging George's inner- and his own, for that matter- in talk of a family together.

"I hate when you're right." George sighed in defeat, letting his body go fully lax around Dream's.

That was… way easier of an admission to get out of George than he anticipated. He was expecting George to scoff and say no, or at the very least deflect the subject by saying the kids would look more like him than Dream.

"What about just once- at the beginning of my preheat, so no mini-yous will be created?" George pitched through a yawn, tucking his face in closer to Dream's neck.

"We'll talk about it."

Three and a half weeks later, they did talk about it, and George had surprisingly stood by his prior request… and then some.

It was clear his inner was greatly satisfied with being desired by Dream’s inner (all of Dream, in reality), which meant continuing to safely avoid drops, and no more talk of going out to find a mate.

Sure, George made plenty of good points about his inner's increasing demands, that his heats were getting easier the more they did together, and how the drop-free year he'd spent with Dream was the most peace he'd felt since his twenties- the decade of hell, as George called it- began.

The time George didn't realize he could have back- the time he used to spend in a drop- was invaluable to the career he was desperately trying to establish. He'd been using that time to perfect his scent blockers. Dream tended to be his guinea pig, often being tasked with wearing the different prototypes to work and reporting back on comfortability, longevity, and effectiveness.

Just from testing out the product, Dream understood more and more each day why George continued his search for someone to take a chance on him- his inventions were genuinely helpful tools that could completely change the way society viewed second genders.

George used to have a few good weeks between his drop ending and his next preheat starting, but thanks to Dream, that time had doubled. So, who was he to argue something that helped George that much?

Plus, some of what George said reminded Dream of his last rut, how even just having him there to light scent him and keep an omega’s pheromones a prominent smell in and around him was enough to keep his inner satisfied at the time. It made sense why George's inner had been appeased by his presence, and also why the consistency of his presence had made it start to crave more.

The surprise came when instead of George asking for one singular creampie before his preheat went too far, he actually presented Dream with a list of symptoms he'd go through and what stage of his preheat they corresponded to.

There were far more biological markers to heats than Dream ever realized. George explained that in the weeks leading up to his heat, he'd typically run a fever of about ninety-nine to one-hundred degrees. When his fertile window began and his heat fully kicked in, his temperature would drop back down to ninety-seven. That was the point of reference Dream was instructed to use, seeing that George's preheat-brain would be the least reliable source of information for when his heat fully started.

Point being, George didn't want to be bred once during his preheat- he wanted to be bred repeatedly until the last possible minute, which ended up being pretty much the only way Dream could keep him appeased throughout his fourth preheat.

There was just one problem with George's upcoming heat, specifically what would be happening around the same time…

Dream's annual rut.

He did the mental math and he- in theory- would start his rut around the time George's preheat began, but he didn't have a three-week long build up the way George did. His prerut was more like one or two days. Unfortunately, that still meant that he would have to leave for his rut, which was far from ideal, but asking an omega to leave their home- their nest- at any point during their preheat was just criminal.

"I still don't think you should go."

Dream let out a sigh, stealing a glance at George over his shoulder. He could feel his inner driving him to do whatever he could to take George's stress away, but that was the issue- his inner was taking up way too much space in his mind and already trying to call the shots.

"I won't be leaving for a few more days. I just want to make sure my bag is packed before my rut hits." Dream sat down on the edge of his bed, but George remained firmly planted in the doorway to Dream's bedroom with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't get why you're leaving in the first place! I mean, I was here for your last rut and nothing happened." George's annoyed tone clashed with the worry in his furrowed brows.

"That was a triggered rut, not my annual. This one will be a lot more, I don't know, intense- not to mention twice as long. You sneaking into my room to light scent me may have been enough back then, but I’m so used to it now that I doubt light scenting would do much of anything this time." Dream tapped the spot beside himself, trying to coax George away from the door.

"I could, um, what if I actually scented you instead? Then would you stay?" George suggested hesitantly, slowly making his way into Dream's room, accepting the invitation to sit on the edge of the bed with him.

"I think that's a bit more complicated than just light scenting me when I’m already asleep. And- no offense- but your slick always gets all over me when we scent… I don't think any alpha in rut could sleep through that smell." Dream looked away when George's cheeks darkened in color. It was endearing in its own kind of way- they'd been sharing orgasms in some fashion since they met, but just the acknowledgement of what happened whenever George got aroused made him blush.

"But what about when my preheat starts? I'll be alone." George cleared his throat, trying to shift the subject to one that was less embarrassing.

"Only for a few days. It'll be like the time I went on that business trip out in Nashville and was gone for a week during your preheat." Dream smiled at the way George scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest again, like Dream had just said something that deeply offended him.

"Oh, I remember…" George grumbled.

The first twenty-four hours without George’s scent in his system were far worse than Dream could’ve ever imagined.

He was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. He was frustrated, but couldn’t find relief. He was homesick, but not for his house.

His colleagues must’ve thought he was going through a rough break up, or maybe they just suspected he’d driven himself to some sort of breaking point from working so hard, considering he was far from his usual bubbly self.

Dream was confident, a natural leader, and quick on his feet… most of the time. Since he arrived in Nashville, he was the opposite of all his core characteristics.

Despite being many months away from his annual rut, his inner was driving him up a wall. Dream wanted to believe his inner was only playing such a big role in his downward spiral because he left George in the middle of his preheat to go on a work trip, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

His inner saw George as his omega, so in heat or not, it wasn’t happy with Dream for leaving his mate so abruptly.

In his defense, he was still relatively new to his career and having the natural charisma of an alpha could only get him so far- he needed to actually form relationships and build rapport with the other big law firms on the East coast… which meant agreeing to a week-long business trip with only a day’s notice.

With each passing hour before he left, George flip-flopped between encouraging Dream to go make a name for himself by blowing away all the other lawyers with his knowledge… and then crying because he didn’t want Dream to leave him.

That was the first time Dream had ever seen George cry- like, full-on tears streaming down his face and a snotty nose type of crying. Dream’s inner didn’t need to be in charge for him to feel awful about that.

Even if George was in one of his ‘I’m so proud of you, knock ‘em dead, honey!’ moods when Dream actually left the house, it didn’t change the fact that every time he pictured George, it was the crying omega begging his alpha not to abandon him when he was in such a vulnerable state.

The trip that should’ve been an exhilarating and career-defining event ended up being nothing more than the most tedious week of Dream’s life. Ironically enough, his boss praised him on the train ride home, saying so many of his acquaintances commented on how impressive it was that someone so young could be so serious.

Needless to say, Dream didn’t feel any type of relief until he was back in New York and his cab was pulling up to his house. He could already imagine the smell of George’s sweetened pheromones and his mouth watered at the idea of all the pastries George stress-baked while he was gone.

That relief faded pretty quickly once Dream opened his front door and was hit with a wall of scorched roses and something so sweet it actually tasted sour on his tongue. One look around the house did nothing to assure him things were okay- the place was so disheveled, he feared there must’ve been a break-in while he was away.

“George? I’m home!” Dream called out, carefully slipping off his shoes and ditching his bags by the entryway. Truthfully, he expected George to come running, but the only noise was the continued rustling of something in the opposite direction of George’s bedroom- in the direction of his bedroom.

He feared Patches had gotten shut in his room and was destroying everything, but the sight of her sleeping peacefully on one of the couch cushions that had been thrown onto the floor dispelled that theory rather quickly.

“George? Is that you in there?” he asked skeptically, pushing open the door to his bedroom slowly.

If he thought the rest of the house was a mess, he had another thing coming to him at the sight of his bedroom. His entire wardrobe- literally every item of clothing he owned- was piled on his bed, his closet door and dresser drawers were all open, and the air reeked of distress.

Then, his bathroom door swung open and George emerged holding an armful of Dream’s dirty towels.

Shockingly, Dream did not get the warm welcome he was expecting.

George nearly fell to the floor in his haste to get between Dream and his bed, which he was quickly starting to realize George had turned into his nest.

“Whoa - it’s me, angel. It’s Dream. I’m home,” he said cautiously, slowly raising his hands to show he had nothing to hide.

George remained positioned defensively, protecting his nest, but the twist of confusion on his face let Dream know he hadn’t fully gone into heat yet- that a tiny part of George’s brain was processing that Dream’s presence was a good thing, not a threat.

“Come on, you know me. I’m what all those clothes smell like.” Dream smiled, watching George’s stiff posture fade as he took baby steps in his direction.

“That’s good- good boy, George. Hey- it’s okay, easy.” Dream retreated his hands when George flinched away once he reached out to grab him. “Take your time, I’m just going to hold my wrist out for you. See?”

Slowly but surely, George came close enough to sniff Dream’s wrist and the reaction was immediate.

“Okay, okay- I missed you too,” Dream said through a blissful sigh when George grabbed onto his wrist and dove right into light scenting. He wrapped his free arm around George's waist, pulling him closer.

“You didn’t leave me?” George murmured into the crook of Dream’s neck. The genuine confusion in George’s tone made his heart ache terribly.

“I will never leave you.” He leaned away to give him a smile, but as soon as Dream turned to look him in the eyes, George was surging forward to kiss him.

They’d never kissed before then- not on the lips at least- yet Dream couldn't help but feel like this was what his body had been craving to cure his homesickness.

“Don’t leave me- never leave me again,” George said between feverish kisses, practically trying to climb Dream like a tree to get closer to him.

“I’m not going anywhere. Hey, I pr- George!" Dream let out a grunt when he found himself catching George after he jumped into his arms. Instead of a verbal response, George simply resumed kissing him, which Dream wasn’t mad at in the slightest.

Considering the initial reaction George had to him getting too close to his nest, Dream opted to walk backwards until they were in the living room. Patches went running once he sat them both down on the couch, but for the first time possibly ever, George didn’t scold him about being too rough around her.

It took a few hours- and an excessive amount of light scenting- but George finally started to settle down. He stopped flinching each time Dream adjusted, he wasn’t clawing Dream’s back whenever he thought he was trying to move him off his lap, and- the thing Dream was most thankful for- George’s pheromones returned to their usual scent whenever his heat was near.

They must’ve fallen asleep on the couch together, because Dream woke up to George sitting on the floor beside him, humming the tune of 'Earth Angel' under his breath. He had a basket of laundry next to him that he was working on folding and the living room looked completely transformed from what he came home to. The records were stacked and put away, his books were reorganized on the coffee table, and all the pillows had been returned to their rightful places.

George turned around to grab Dream’s wrist, but clearly he wasn’t expecting to find Dream awake and staring at him.

“Morning,” he mumbled, smiling at George’s sudden wave of shock- he even picked up on the slightest hint of panic in George’s scent from being surprised.

“Afternoon- evening, really,” George answered quietly. Dream’s smile faded a bit when he noticed George’s worry wasn’t going away.

“I slept the whole day? I don’t- I mean, I was tired, but I didn’t think I was that tired,” he mumbled, sitting up slowly with a groan.

“What are- where are you going?” George asked, springing up from the floor before Dream even stood up.

“I slept for- christ- eighteen hours, George- I have to pee.” He let out a soft laugh, kissing the side of George’s head as he walked around him.

Even though it'd already been a few minutes since he woke up, his head still felt fuzzy, kind of like the picture on his television set ever since Patches bent the antenna. It was a slow process going to the bathroom, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, but the haze stuck around the entire time.

“Jesus, George. Can’t a man relieve his bladder in-”

“Come back to the couch,” George interrupted, grabbing onto Dream’s hand to pull him down the hall. He'd apparently been waiting outside the bathroom door the entire time Dream was in there.

“What? I need to- I’ve gotta change out of these clothes and-”

“Why? You’re not going anywhere, right?” George cut him off again, freezing in place with wide eyes staring up at Dream.

“Huh? No, no I’m not leav- actually, I'm sure we have to be low on groceries, so I should really get to the store before they close. But I’m just… I’m…” Dream trailed off, the fuzzy feeling in his head growing to a full static when George started light scenting him. His limbs felt like jelly and he almost lost his balance for a second, but he managed to pull his wrist away from George’s before that happened.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” Dream paused to chuckle, leaning against the wall for support, despite George’s continued gentle tugs guiding him towards the living room.

“What’s me?” George asked, taking a timid step away.

“Why I- why my head is a mess right now,” he explained through another laugh. “You’ve been scenting me to keep me asleep, because you don’t want me to go anywhere.”

“Can’t leave me again if you’re unconscious,” George mumbled with a guilty look on his face.

For the time being, Dream decided to blame the idiotic smile on his face on George’s pheromones being so prominent in his system. In reality, he’d just fallen even deeper in love with George.

“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that? Next you’re going to hide my keys and drain all the air out of my tires.” Dream shook his head, but reached out to pull George back to his chest.

“Does you giving me ideas mean you’re not mad at me?” George asked quietly with his head resting on Dream’s shoulder.

Dream shivered when George’s nose accidentally bumped against his gland, but the feeling was far from unwelcomed. If anything, he kind of wished George would do it again.

“Not mad at you… but I am hungry, like, literally starving.” He groaned against the top of George’s head when his stomach rumbled.

“I could make us dinner, or- oh! I could make breakfast for dinner, since you just woke up. What are you hungry for?”

“I think you know the answer to that question,” Dream said in a low tone, smiling proudly to himself when George’s fingers clutched onto the back of his shirt. Like clockwork, a second later George let out a groan and Dream could smell his slick in the air.

“I’ll get dinner started, you go do what you need.” Dream chuckled, pulling away from George.

“I can’t- my stupid nest is still in shambles in your bedroom.” George looked up at Dream with a distinguished frown.

“Just… keep it there for now, I can stay on the couch until you move it back to your room after your heat.” Dream nodded, hoping the way he swallowed his pooling saliva wasn’t too obvious.

The thought of George spending the entirety of his heat in his room was… he couldn’t think about it too much, or else they’d both have issues to take care of.

“You don’t- you don’t mean to say I should spend my heat in your room,” George said hesitantly, but the brightening scent of blooming florals gave Dream all the confirmation he needed.

“Why not? You’ll be surrounded by my scent, there’s an ensuite bathroom with a tub, your nest is already half made in there, and-”

George cut Dream off by kissing him, which was a surprise he welcomed greatly. He held George firmly around his waist, pulling him flush against himself, and let out a shameless moan into George’s mouth from the feeling of George’s growing hard on pressing against him.

When George’s hands trailed from the back of Dream’s neck to his hair, he nearly lost himself in the kiss. That was around the time Dream realized George’s preheat had already made him too far gone to remember their blurry line in the sand, so it was up to him to steer George away… even if he really, really didn’t want to.

“George, hey-” Dream moaned again when George’s grasp tightened in his hair and the smell of slick in the air became more prominent.

“Please, alpha?”

Dear god- was there even a god? Surely no god would be so cruel as to put Dream in such an impossible situation.

“I want to- you have to know how badly I want to,” he whispered, barely managing to keep their lips apart long enough to make his point. “But I need to start dinner and you need to be quick, so you can come help me.”

“It’d be faster if you were with me,” George mumbled sadly, going onto his tiptoes to ghost his lips over Dream’s, and Dream was weak to his own inner’s demands.

“I can’t touch you like that, George.” He shook his head, struggling harder with every passing second to remember why he couldn’t help his omega.

Not his- George wasn’t his… no matter how much he acted like it. At the end of the day, this was all just his preheat.

“That’s enough,” he said through a shallow breath, standing up straight to prevent his lips from being within George’s reach. “Go to your nest.”

George looked so pathetic, so desperate, so upset… but Dream knew this was what had to be done. George had been kind enough to give him some basic guidelines after his first heat, and he wasn’t going to mess that up on his second time around.

“Our nest,” George grumbled, but he finally turned to head towards Dream’s room.

He let out a laugh under his breath, seeing that George’s version of a bitter comeback was just another lovesick preheat confession.

George returned about half an hour later, freshly bathed with all of Dream’s products, and dressed in one of Dream’s polos… without any pants on, because why would George ever wear pants?

“You look comfy.” Dream rolled his eyes and shook his head, refusing to let George win so easily. He kept his back to George and focused on the eggs he was frying.

“I feel better,” he answered in a soft mumble, wrapping his arms around Dream’s waist to hug him from behind. Dream set down the spatula, opting to hold his hand over George’s arm instead.

Before Dream knew it, he had a full stomach and was laying on the couch with George, light scenting with him until the familiar static returned to his brain and George went limp on his chest.

"Don't say it like that- it's cute when you're feral." Dream smiled wide at George, rightfully earning the harsh scoff George let out.

"Yeah, well, it's not cute to feel crazy because your alpha abandoned you right before your heat."

Dream's smile fell slowly. His inner wanted to celebrate the small win of lucid-George referring to him as his alpha, but the conscious part of Dream's brain was stuck on the last thing George admitted- the fact George said he'd been abandoned by him.

"George, I'd never abandon you." He turned to face George, even if George had kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"Sorry, ignore me. You don't- you don't have any actual obligations to stick around, so I shouldn't-"

"Stop that," Dream interrupted, grabbing onto George's arm as soon as he stood. Without looking at him, George resumed his seat, but his posture was still just as rigid.

"I just meant that you've already done more than anyone else would for the last year, and I understand that you're trying to protect me by leaving for your rut…"

"But?" Dream questioned, having a feeling that George's thought wasn't finished, despite the fact he'd trailed off.

"No buts." George shrugged, offering Dream a poor attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, there's definitely a but." He squinted at George, who immediately folded. He fell back on Dream's bed with a groan, covering his eyes with his forearm.

"Okay, but there shouldn't be one!" George groaned again, but Dream refused to let him off that easily. "But… I just, I don't know, I hate feeling so useless."

"Useless because I'll be gone?" Dream asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Useless because you've helped me through four- going on five- heats, but I can't help you through your rut," he clarified, finally returning Dream's gaze.

"George-"

"And I get exactly why I can't! I'm not- I'm not an idiot, I know that an alpha in rut is guaranteed to mark me, even if..." George looked away again, but Dream had a feeling he knew how that sentence was supposed to end.

"Even if that alpha is me," Dream said quietly, reaching out to brush the back of his fingers against George's cheek. "And even if I know you don't want me to."

"I've seen your rut before though, it's not- I wasn't afraid of you! And, I mean, I didn't even know you back then, so that's really saying something," George argued, which warmed Dream's heart a little, but made him more sad than anything.

"You're also going to be in your preheat while I'm in rut. You, while fully lucid, being able to handle my half-rut isn't a fair comparison to how you'd react when you're also starting a cycle. Hell, George, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to leave every time your heat begins? I'm not even in rut and my inner goes ballistic trying to get me to stay." Dream shook his head sympathetically.

"I wish- god, I just wish there was more research available for my medication that could prevent omegas from going into heat. I've read recent studies of oral contraceptives for betas, but omegas weren't even included in the trials," George grumbled.

"Even if your medication existed and you could push back your preheat until my rut was over, it doesn't change the fact I won't know what I've done during my rut until it's over… until it's too late." Dream laid down beside George on his back, trying to find comfort in the way their shoulders brushed together.

“Do you remember the last thing you said to me before you went into rut the night we met?”

Dream turned his head to the side with his brow furrowed, feeling even more confused when George was staring back at him with a budding smile.

“Uh, omega smell good? I don’t know.” Dream shrugged as best he could, letting out a soft laugh.

“You told me you love me.” George smiled wider, like the memory was a moment he was proud of. Dream, on the other hand, cringed harder than he knew he was capable of. Sure, his past self wasn’t exactly lying, but he would have preferred to live in ignorant bliss than know he confessed to George mere hours after they met.

“Christ- okay, I was also drunk, give me a break,” Dream grumbled, facing the ceiling while his cheeks burned crimson.

“But you didn’t demand anything from me- no barked orders for me to present myself, no roughness, nothing that scared me in the slightest.” George rolled onto his side to face Dream, guessing correctly that he wouldn’t be looking back anytime soon.

“Yeah, well, that was before the rut actually set in,” Dream countered.

“I'm not talking about the first night… you woke up once while I was in there to bring you food. You were heavily asleep when I came in, so I thought I could drop off a plate and leave without having to light scent you first, but I was wrong.”

Slowly, Dream turned to face George again, finding him looking almost embarrassed by the memory.

“You- but you said I didn’t hurt you at all?” Dream started to sit up, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach after realizing one of his first encounters with George was something as terrifying as-

“Because you didn’t!” George rushed, cutting Dream off from his internal spiral. “You didn’t hurt me, Dream.”

“Hurt you, forced myself on you- whatever I did, George, I am so-”

“You fed me,” George interrupted, effectively getting Dream to stop rambling. “You… you went for the plate I brought in and for a second I thought you were actually more interested in food than an omega, but then you reached out for my arm too. I- I won’t lie, I did kind of panic a little, but I didn’t even get the chance to light scent you before you held the toast to my mouth and coaxed me into eating it. You just sort of mumbled stuff like good omega and for baby, then you fell back asleep on your own before I even finished the slice.”

Dream was frozen in place, half propped up on his elbows. He still wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick over the memory- over the fact he actually insultingly referred to George as ‘omega’, implied he was carrying his child, and behaved like a creep all around.

“You kind of restored my faith in the humanity of alphas that day. No alpha- let alone one in rut- had ever been that gentle with me before,” George continued.

Dream slowly lowered himself back down, but his worried eyes refused to leave George’s face. He could smell the comforting pheromones George was pushing out, which definitely calmed his inner, but they weren’t calming him.

“I don’t- I don’t understand.” He shook his head, feeling more confused by the way George smiled softly at him.

“I’m saying I’ve seen you in rut and…I wasn’t afraid of it- I’m not afraid of you, Dream.” George nodded, holding his warm palm against Dream’s cheek to stop him from continuing to shake his head no.

“I don’t think staying here with me for your rut will be the big mistake you’re worried it is.” George let out a shaky breath and moved his hand from Dream’s cheek to his mouth to prevent him from answering yet. “And… I don’t think you should leave for my heats anymore either.”

“Gr’g,” he muffled against George’s hand.

“Just stop packing,” he whispered, then pulled his hand away from Dream’s face.

Dream had never been more confused in his life. He wanted to kiss George, but he'd never done that outside of George's preheat, but George had also never looked at him so tenderly before. He also couldn't tell if George was trying to assure him that he wouldn't try to mark him during his rut… or that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he did.

Then the phone rang, breaking them both from the trance they'd unknowingly fallen into.

Surprisingly, George was the one who jumped to answer, leaving Dream in his room. It was odd to think that the scene had essentially been reset- he was back to being alone on his bed, surrounded by unfolded clothes, staring and a half-packed suitcase.

He knew he should keep packing, despite George's request for him to stop. At the end of the day, even if George meant it wouldn't be the end of the world if Dream marked him during his rut, that was all it would be- not the end of the world. Dream had wanted nothing more for the better part of a year than to make George his mate, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if that was a fate George merely accepted, not wanted.

With a sigh, Dream tossed the nearest undershirt into his suitcase, only to have George walk in the room and take it out.

"I know you said not-"

"Get dressed," George interrupted, throwing the shirt back at Dream.

"Dressed for what? Who called?" Dream asked, tilting his head to the side.

"It was Hank." George shrugged, but invited himself into Dream's closet and began rummaging through his clothes.

"You've got to stop distracting me from pack- wait… Wait, why did he call? It's almost eight on a Friday." Dream furrowed his brow and glanced out the window. The sky was still light, but not for much longer. The summer was fading and autumn was just around the corner… the one year anniversary of him and George meeting was coming up.

Dream wondered if it would be weird to bring it up to George.

"He was inviting you out to a club that he and your colleagues are heading to, and because I foolishly answered the phone, I'm invited now too." George let out a soft sigh, then tossed Dream's dark gray suit onto his bed, along with an emerald green tie to pair with it.

"George, I'm really not feeling up to-"

"They're going to Copacabana," George interrupted, barely sparing Dream a glance over his shoulder. "That was the club where we met."

Now, Dream didn't remember many things from that night, let alone the number of clubs they went to, but something that stuck with him was that the level of sleazy grew as the night went on and Copacabana was the last place they visited.

"No," Dream said a bit more urgently than he intended. "I just mean- your preheat is awfully close for you to be going to a place like that, don't you think? Your pheromones are already sweeter than usual."

"That's not even true, and if it is, you can only tell because of how close your rut is," George countered, turning around with his arms crossed over his chest.

Dream's inner was not happy. Not only did it have little desire to do anything other than lay in bed- preferably with George- to rest in preparation for his rut, but the last thing it wanted to deal with at a time like this was guarding George from a threat that likely didn't exist.

Then Dream's eyes wandered down George's frame…

On second thought, the threat definitely did exist, and it was in the form of every alpha in a fifty-mile radius.

"You're not going out." Dream shook his head, his eyes still glued somewhere around George's hips for… unknown reasons.

"I'm not, but we are." George scoffed at him, walking closer to nudge the suit and tie closer to Dream.

"George, don't test me on this. I'm serious right now- I don't want you leaving the house." Dream stood to walk after George, who was clearly on his way to his own room to get ready.

"I didn't ask what you wanted." George shrugged, continuing to walk away.

Any other time, Dream would be endeared by George's defiance- maybe even a bit tempted to play a good old fashioned game of cat and mouse- but he was in no mood for shenanigans.

"George-" Dream cut himself off, freezing before he took another step. If his inner was already this in control, his rut was probably closer than he calculated, which meant he really shouldn't be going to a club, and he definitely shouldn't be anywhere near George.

When Dream looked up, George was staring at him with a puzzled expression, like he'd fully expected Dream to continue their usual push and pull.

"I need to finish packing," Dream said under his breath. He turned around on his heels and started heading back to his room, only to be stopped by George grabbing onto the back of his shirt.

"I told you not to pack-"

"And I told you not to test me," Dream interrupted. In a blink, he went from facing away from George, to looming over him while George was pressed against the wall, like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. "And this is why," he finished under his breath.

"Go get dressed," George whispered, slowly standing up straight, appearing less like he was cowering.

"George, I'm not-"

"I'm going and you're the one who said my pheromones are especially sweet right now… so I need you to go with me, you know, to keep me safe from anyone who thinks I don’t already have an alpha."

Dream wished his inner wasn't so close to the surface, seeing that George wording it like that completely flipped its perception of the situation. George was no longer taunting him with the possibility of finding another alpha, he was asking Dream- asking his alpha- to protect him from those other alphas.

"I hate you, you know that?" Dream grumbled, letting his head fall to George's shoulder.

"You love me." George scoffed, easily calling Dream's bluff. Dream would've been offended by the laugh George let out at his expense, but the feeling of George's fingers running through his hair was about to have him shaking his foot like a dog.

"And you abuse that love," he muttered in response, wrapping his arms around George's waist. It felt weird to hold George so intimately when George's preheat hadn't started yet, seeing that they weren't often touchy-feely with each other outside of his heats.

"Guilty." George hummed happily, which made Dream feel a little better about how tightly he was holding George to his chest.

His inner was flooding his mind with thoughts of marking George right then and there, that way no alpha would ever bother him again, but he was at least sane enough to brush off that idea.

“Dream, I’m gonna- I won’t have enough time to shower.” George started to whine, which was alluring enough to bring Dream back to the present moment. Specifically, the fact he was nosing at George’s gland, inching his own towards it.

“Just for a second?” Dream mumbled, his lips brushing against George’s gland in the process. Now that he realized his inner was sneakily trying to scent George, he wasn’t sure if he couldn’t survive another minute without it.

“I’m already- Dream-” George cut himself off with a gasp as his head fell to the side, opening his neck like an invitation at the first glide of Dream’s gland against his own.

Dream pulled his neck away from George’s almost as soon as he brushed their glands together. The feeling of George’s pheromones building in him was intoxicating, but he couldn’t let himself keep going…

Until George pulled him back in.

“George, you can’t- god- you smell so…” Dream trailed off, panting through his mouth at the first whiff of George’s slick.

He’d never smelled it outside of George’s preheat before- he'd never smelled it when his own hormones were raging.

“Okay, okay, okay-” George rushed, breaking their scenting session, but instead of pulling away, he pressed his lips against Dream’s in a chaste kiss.

Kissing was another thing Dream hadn’t experienced when George wasn’t in preheat. Even if the (quickly diminishing) lucid part of Dream’s brain justified that George could just be kissing him the same way he thought Dream did during his preheat, it didn’t change the fact George couldn’t exactly fake his slick.

“I want you,” Dream murmured, throwing himself into another kiss before George could fully process what he’d just said.

His hands were too greedy for their own good, finding their way beneath the hem of George’s shirt. Dream wanted him out of his clothes- everything. He needed George naked in his bed, face down, hips raised, and slick trailing between his thighs.

“Later-” George grabbed onto his wrists, prying Dream’s hands out from under his shirt. “Go get dressed.”

Dream was dumbfounded over the fact George’s only response to his desire was later… which wasn’t a no. Granted, it technically wasn’t a yes either- but the more important part was that it wasn’t a no.

George slipped away while Dream was too caught up in his own thoughts to pin him against the wall again. Now that George’s scent- specifically the smell of his slick- wasn’t clouding Dream’s senses, he managed to walk himself back to his bedroom and change into the suit and tie George had previously laid out for him.

He was already feeling rather warm in the stiff suit, but at least the temperature outside had cooled off as the sun set.

“Are you ready? Can I call us a taxi?” George called out, knocking on Dream’s door while already peeking his head inside.

His hair was wet- he definitely had to shower after what happened in the hallway. Dream felt a little too proud about that.

“No taxi, I’m driving us.” Dream shook his head, walking towards George. Even if he wanted to enjoy the fact he’d aroused George to the point of needing a shower, all he could focus on was that George had washed all his pheromones off himself in the process.

“Dream, you’re not driving.” George smiled at him sympathetically, like he knew exactly why Dream had gotten so tense all of a sudden, already extending his hand to Dream.

“I don’t trust some random taxi driver to- to… I don’t-”

“Shh,” George interrupted with a soft hum as soon as he slid his wrist across Dream’s. “How many times do you think we’re going to light scent to keep you calm tonight? You can’t drive when you’re like this.”

George had reached up to guide Dream’s head down to his shoulder. Despite feeling on edge and stressed out seconds before George walked in, he was starting to feel like the hazy flashes of memories he had from the night they met- specifically, when George light scented him after they got back home from the club.

“Why’s it- why-” Dream groaned, pushing his face harder against George’s shoulder. “Why’s it, like, more? I don’t- I’m not usually like this when we light scent.”

“Because you’re not usually about to go into rut,” George answered with a matter-of-fact tone, like Dream should’ve pieced that together on his own by now.

“So? I’ve still, I’m like- I have a tolerance now… don’t I?” he questioned, dragging his wrist up George’s arm, marking the full length with his scent. Surprisingly, George didn't seem to mind.

“You’ve got some serious worms for brains, don’t you, Dream?” George laughed, but it was the soft and breathy kind he used when he was endeared by something. “The stronger a bond, the stronger the effect. You didn’t build up a tolerance- you formed a dependence.”

“So you can just- you can turn my brain off whenever you feel like it now?” Dream asked with a furrowed brow and puckered lip, leaning away to look George in the eyes, which was a mistake.

Dream was leaning in to kiss George before he even processed what was going on. There wasn’t much pushback from George when it came to the kiss, or to him marking his arms, so once he became aware of what he’d started, Dream doubled down.

“Stop washing off my scent,” Dream muttered against George’s lips, then glided his wrist over George’s neck gland. He’d never done that before, but he was hoping- praying- that it would make his pheromones stick around in George’s system longer than when they light scented.

George went nearly slack in his embrace, breaking their kiss to let his head fall to Dream's shoulder.

"So not fair," he grumbled, nudging Dream's hand away from his neck. As a form of apology, Dream leaned down and kissed George's gland, humming pleasantly when he realized George's pheromones smelled heavily like his own.

"Hey, you scented me so much one time I slept for an entire day- I think this is plenty fair," Dream said through a light laugh, feeling at least a bit more in control of his inner now that George had stopped saying things to provoke it. "You sure you don't wanna stay in tonight?"

"Dream-" George butted his head against the side of Dream's neck. It was rather obvious that George tried to pull away but apparently didn't have the strength to do so, resulting in him leaning his full weight onto Dream once again.

"Fine, but we stay for one hour… or potentially less, depending on how my inner reacts. I've never gone out this close to a rut, let alone when I'm with my- uh, you." Dream closed his eyes and clenched his jaw- so much for being in control of his idiotic inner.

"Nice save." George scoffed against his chest, but the way his shoulders bounced made it seem like he was actually trying to suppress a laugh.

"Okay, you call me your alpha all the damn time when you're in your preheat," he countered, looking at George disapprovingly. Much to his surprise, George used whatever little energy he'd mustered up to kiss him.

"Cab's here," George mumbled against his lips. Dream had been so focused on kissing George, he didn't even hear the honking outside.

"I thought you hadn't-"

"Called before I came in- kind of figured something like this was bound to happen," George interrupted. He pulled himself away from Dream's chest, only slightly struggling to maintain his balance for his first few steps. Dream followed closely behind with one hand hovering over the small of George's back.

"So, what was that back in my room anyway- the alpha equivalent of when omegas put us to sleep with light scenting?" Dream asked quietly as they walked across the front lawn to the car.

"Kind of, I guess." George chuckled, rolling his eyes fondly at Dream when he opened the door to the backseat for him. "Only works close to a rut though, since your pheromones are stronger," he finished under his breath before taking a seat, switching gears to greet the driver.

Dream wasn't planning on it, but he climbed in through the same door, only letting George scoot over as far as the middle seat. The driver was a beta, which was a relief, but only slightly. It was clear they were both in for one hell of a night if this was Dream's innate reaction to a simple cab ride.

"Easy, tiger," George mumbled, attempting to pull Dream's hand away from his waist. Dream held him tighter, knowing exactly what George was planning on doing.

"None of that- I was serious when I said I'm planning on staying sharp tonight. That means no alcohol and no you," Dream whispered to George, keeping his eyes forward.

"Now that's just rude," George responded at the same volume, giving Dream a disapproving glare.

"No, rude would be if I scented you for real in the bathroom as soon as we got there, that way we'd have to turn around and come right back home." Dream's tone was a warning, but it seemed like George didn't take it as anything more than a challenge.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Dream." George winked at him before facing forward again, striking up a conversation with their driver about god knows what.

For the remainder of their ride, Dream kept George held tightly against his side, so much so that George actually started calling him out on essentially trying to pull him onto his lap. Each time he did, Dream would loosen his grip, only to then pull George even closer the next time they ran over a bump in the road.

"Okay, you need to relax," George said under his breath as soon as they stepped out of the car. At first, Dream didn't know what he was talking about, but then he noticed the look strangers on the sidewalk were giving him- specifically because of the way he smelled.

"Sorry," he mumbled, trying to get himself under control. Dream was starting to wish he brought some of George’s scent blocker prototypes with him. He couldn't let himself gas-out an entire room with the souring scent of his possessiveness over George… no matter how many stray glances strangers threw George's way.

"Come on, just for a second before we go in." George coaxed Dream's arm away from his side, using the opening to rub his wrist against Dream's. It was like he had a moment of clarity- and also like he was seconds away from falling asleep on the sidewalk. George pulled his wrist away once he saw Dream was becoming a bit too subdued, using it as his opening to head towards the entrance.

"George, this is a bad idea," Dream mumbled, following behind George. It was the first time he'd gone longer than a minute without touching George in the last hour and his skin was starting to crawl.

"You never leave the house anymore unless it's to go to work. This is a good thing!" George argued with a hopeful look, slowing his pace enough that he and Dream were standing side-by-side.

"That's not even true. We go out for dinner, visit the cinema, take Sunday walks-"

"Dream! The man of the hour!"

Dream closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. It looked like any chance of convincing George to leave before they were spotted just went out the window.

“Oh, I don’t know about that!” Dream called back with his best fake enthusiasm. He heard George snicker beside him before he was being dragged into the crowd.

The combination of perfumes and pheromones was already giving him a headache. The last thing he could handle was the intern rushing him- a beta who was still working on his undergraduate degree. Normally Dream appreciated his green look on life, but right now babysitting a puppy when he was already (unofficially) babysitting an omega was too much.

“Hey, Bobby- easy, easy.” Dream let out a grunt when the younger gave him a hug with a few aggressive slaps to the back. Being the only beta in the office- on top of being an intern- Dream had noticed Bobby definitely tried harder than he needed to fit in with the alpha crowd.

“Oh, is this your mate? Hi! I’m Bobby, I work with- um, I’m an intern with- not with, since Dream isn’t an intern, but uh… what was I saying?” He looked back up to Dream in the middle of greeting George, his gaze a bit hazy and his cheeks rather flushed.

Yeah, he was definitely schnockered.

“Nice to meet you Bobby, I’m George.” George extended his hand with a muffled laugh.

Dream reminded himself that he was not allowed to get jealous of a twenty-year-old beta for making George laugh.

“Are you- you don’t sound like you’re from around here.” Bobby tilted his head and Dream decided they’d been friendly enough without delving into personal backgrounds.

“Bobby, where’s everyone?” Dream cut in, taking a step forward to turn Bobby around by his shoulders, which was the only thing to get him to stop shaking George’s hand.

“Oh, they’re in- they’re over here!” Bobby stumbled as he walked. For the time being, Dream would let himself believe it was from the alcohol and not because of his haste to turn him around.

When Dream glanced over his shoulder to make sure George was following him, his worst fear had come true. Okay, maybe not true, but it wasn’t just his paranoid mindset that made him realize more than one person was staring at George- was literally checking him out.

“I can walk, you don’t need to drag me too.” George held up both his hands, stepping in front of Dream before he could grab onto him.

“Did you have to wear that suit? It’s practically glued to your curves,” Dream grumbled, having leaned down to speak directly into George’s ear.

“What should I have worn instead, hmm? My pajamas? Maybe a potato sack?” George scoffed, holding out his wrist behind him while continuing to follow Bobby. Dream could see the seating area half his firm was gathered around, including the addition of a few omegas they must’ve added to their party.

“I don’t need that,” he muttered, slowing his pace the closer they got. Bobby continued without them, likely not even realizing they'd fallen behind.

“Do you really want to be acting like a pig-headed alpha in front of your colleagues?” George asked rhetorically, glancing at Dream over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Dream mumbled with a grimace. At least hearing George refer to his behavior as ‘pig-headed’ was rather sobering.

“You can do this. It’s just an hour, then we’ll go home.” George turned around fully and placed both his hands on Dream’s chest.

He could feel his gaze growing heavier as the crowd around them thickened, bringing them closer together.

“You didn’t correct Bobby when he called you my mate,” Dream whispered, reaching out to hold George by his waist.

“What’s the point? I doubt he’s going to remember any of tonight come morning, let alone that he mistook me as your mate.” George laughed softly, but Dream’s smile felt a bit more sad.

Dream didn’t correct Bobby because he thought maybe it wouldn’t be an incorrect sentiment in the near future, but George didn’t correct him because he thought it was a trivial misunderstanding.

“George, my hero! How the hell did you manage to drag Dream out of the house? We were almost certain he wouldn’t show.”

Dream perked up at the sound of his boss’s voice, making eye contact with him over George’s head.

“You of all people should know how persuasive I can be, Hank.” George turned around with a smile, walking over to Henry with open arms.

Getting visibly possessive over George in front of the intern was one thing, but his boss was a different story. Dream had no idea he’d regret not letting George light scent him again so soon.

George embraced Henry like he was an old friend, which considering the circumstances they met and the number of times George had stopped by the office to bring Dream lunch, he arguably was.

Dream was in his fourth consecutive meeting of the day, his mental stamina was nearly depleted, and it wasn't even time to break for lunch yet.

As soon as he sat at his desk, he faced the window, hoping a bit of snowy scenery would calm his mind before he called his next client. The snow was beautiful, but there was something else far more eye-catching directly outside the office.

"Oh, heavens," Dream whispered under his breath, frozen in place as he watched George and Gary chat on the front steps of the building. George was bundled up in a winter jacket and one of Dream's scarves, his rosy cheeks appearing fitting for the cold temperature.

But their color wasn't caused by the icy wind. George had been running a fever all week since his preheat began… because he was in preheat.

"Cripes-" Dream rushed to stand when Gary held open the door for George, inviting him inside the office.

George had been having slick-related accidents all over the place from the smallest teases from Dream. Sometimes, even just Dream's scent first thing in the morning was enough to make a few drops stain the fabric of George's sleep pants. Dream didn't want to know the amount of slick George would produce being around half a dozen alphas instead of just one.

There was a small crowd formed around George by the time Dream walked out of his office. He could only pray all the pheromones didn't already send George spiraling into heat and-

"Dream!"

He halted his pace, watching with a furrowed brow as George excused himself from the group and began to practically skip in his direction. He was smiling the same way he did when Dream would come home from work at the end of the day… but they weren't home and it wasn't the end of the day.

"George, what are you- okay, okay. Hi, George-" he paused, wrapping his arm loosely around George's shoulder when he all but burrowed his face into Dream's chest. He stole a glance over the top of George's head, realizing no work would be getting done around the office so long as there was an especially sweet-smelling omega in the vicinity.

"I brought you lunch! I made meatloaf and potatoes and-"

"That's really great, angel, but don't you think you should be heading back home? You know, before something happens?" Dream interrupted in a whisper, leaning down to speak directly into George's ear, hoping to save them both the embarrassment of someone overhearing him.

"But I just got here?" George questioned at a regular volume, tilting his head to the side innocently, which made Dream's heart ache a little bit more.

"Dream, why don’t you take your lunch hour now, maybe show George around the place?" Henry said from the group that had remained lingering by the door.

"Dr. Donavon, I couldn't-"

"Oh, please." He scoffed and shook his head with a smile, like Dream's refusal was nothing short of hilarious. "Seriously, give him the grand tour."

Dream gulped, nervous at just the thought of keeping George in such an alpha-dominant environment. It felt like he was tempting fate… but then again, George had stayed glued to his side since he first laid eyes on him and was even still holding Dream’s hand, clearly waiting for the 'okay' to light scent with him.

"Al-alright," Dream stuttered, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Thank you, Hank!" George called out over his shoulder, waving to him once Dream accepted the Tupperware with his free hand.

Dream led George into his office, closing the door behind them. The second they were alone, George fully wrapped himself around Dream, hugging his torso as tightly as he probably wanted to in the first place.

"George, what on earth possessed you to come here?" Dream asked, still keeping his voice hushed- he wouldn't put it above some of his coworkers to try eavesdropping through the door.

Dream let out a small sigh, his worries taking a place on the back burner at the sight of George's pleading eyes. He gave George a nod, signaling it was alright for them to light scent. Dream closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, letting out a pleased hum at the intoxicating feeling. He was quickly learning that light scenting with George during his preheat was a vastly different experience than when he was between cycles.

"You forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. I was going to bring it to you, but then I realized all you packed yourself was a bologna sandwich and some carrots. I figured I'd whip something up and bring that to you instead… and I missed you," George mumbled a bit reluctantly at the end, almost as if he'd gotten his fix of Dream's pheromones and could think straight again.

Admittedly, Dream's heart warmed a bit at the gesture. Plus, his fears that George would be thrown into heat and/or have a trail of slick following behind him were clearly unfounded.

"Thank you, George. I really do appreciate it," Dream said softly, kissing the top of George's head. He set down the food on the filing cabinet beside them so he could wrap both his arms around George.

Whatever smidge of independence George reclaimed moments ago had gone out the window after receiving the smallest amount of praise, leaving him melting into Dream's embrace.

Dream ended up taking his boss up on his offer to show George around the office, seeing that George had no desire to leave Dream's side for the time being. He took his time showing George around the conference rooms, the modest kitchenette, the facilities, and the offices of all his colleagues, since suddenly everyone was working with their doors propped open… how subtle of them.

He and his inner were a bit more pleased than they should've been when George shied away from participating much in conversation with the other alphas, sticking to Dream's side like Velcro anytime one of the other lawyers approached them. He was polite, of course, but the interactions could only be described as cordial.

When George left around the time Dream's break ended, Dream re-entered the building after walking George to his cab, only to be greeted by the entire office whistling, hooting, and being overall idiots. It was apparent his colleagues remembered George from the night of his promotion, and it was even more apparent that none of them suspected Dream had any chance with him.

At the very least, Henry assured Dream with a pat on the back that George was welcomed in the office anytime, as well as offered him some 'words of wisdom' about keeping his omega happy when they're close to a heat. Dream was a bit too flustered by the fact his boss figured out George was in preheat to define his and George's situation eloquently. Henry waved him off, saying something like 'courting, mates, going steady- whatever you kids call it these days' over his shoulder.

Dream went back to work with a full stomach and a lingering flush on his cheeks.

The visits continued throughout George's preheat- or at least as long as he was of sound enough mind to do so. In the last days before his heat began, George would be in his room for hours on end finishing the final touches on his nest. It was an uphill battle just getting him to stop nesting long enough to eat breakfast before Dream left for work and dinner when he got home.

One week after George's first heat had concluded, Dream went to work like usual. He was nose deep in case files when he couldn't ignore the laughing coming from the front lobby any longer. Dream stepped out of his office, fully expecting to see one of Henry's friends chatting up a storm in the lobby, and he was right… he just wasn't expecting that friend to be George.

"And let me tell you, he didn't- oh, Dream!" George stopped himself mid-sentence, his eyes squinted from his growing smile when they landed on Dream.

"Hey… George?" Dream answered, his tone much more awkward and questioning than any of his colleagues. "What'cha doing here?"

"Oh, you know, brought you some lunch and- oh, calm down. It's just a sandwich." George rolled his eyes when Dream grimaced, having learned too many times to count that anything George cooked outside of his preheat was nothing short of inedible.

"Right, um… So, did you want to come back to my office?" Dream asked, glancing around the group with one hand pointing his thumb towards his open door.

"No thanks." George took a step back after handing the brown paper bag to Dream. "I'm actually here to have a meeting with Hank."

Dream's jaw clenched momentarily. He was quick enough to correct it before anyone caught on- well, anyone other than George.

“I spoke on the phone with him about one of my projects and he said he has some friends at NYU looking to invest in new technology,” George whispered, having stepped closer to Dream again once he saw him tense up.

“George, I don’t know about-”

"He's the first alpha to ask me to bring in a prototype. I really think if I impress him enough with my scent blockers, he’ll put in a good word for me with his friends." George kept his voice low, now with his arms crossed hesitantly.

"Of course, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean-"

"Hank, can I meet you in your office? I forgot Dream has some of my materials in his briefcase." George turned around with a smile, catching the attention of everyone participating in the hushed conversations going on in the background.

"Absolutely, come right in whenever you're ready. And please, gentlemen, remind me why I pay you your salaries." Henry gestured for everyone to scatter and return to their work, which they all promptly did.

"I don't have any of your-"

"I know that," George interrupted through a groan once the door was shut. Dream tilted his head to the side, watching George bounce on the balls of his feet while tugging on his fingers- a habit he only did when he was anxious.

"You okay?" Dream asked, taking a step closer. He was still getting used to not touching George after spending the last few weeks entangled with him.

"I'm panicking, but I have to go in there. I have to go pitch my scent blockers to Hank and somehow convince him that I'm-"

"You're great, your scent blockers are genius, and you're just talking to Henry- someone you already know and like," Dream interrupted, keeping his voice calm and slow, while he pulled apart George's hands. He turned his wrist forward, offering his gland to George.

"Thank you," George whispered, resting his forehead against Dream's shoulder, allowing Dream to take the lead on light scenting.

"You've got this," Dream mumbled against the top of George's head, hoping George didn't feel the kiss he pressed to his hairline. The glide of their wrists ceased, but George remained unmoved, taking in a few more deep breaths.

"I've got this." He nodded, looking up at Dream with a new sense of confidence in his eyes, which brought a smile to Dream's face.

"I'll take my lunch when you finish, that way you can tell me all about your meeting." Dream stepped back, opening the door for George.

George mouthed 'thank you' one last time to Dream before walking across the lobby to Henry's office. Needless to say, Dream didn't get much of anything done in the time George spent talking to his boss. He'd ventured out to the lobby probably a dozen times in the hour George was gone, pretending to check the mail or get a glass of water. He heard laughing from Henry's office more often than not, which helped calm some of his nerves.

Dream eagerly abandoned the file he was reading when George opened the door to his office. He barely had enough time to stand from his chair before George came crashing against his chest, knocking them both back into his seat.

"He loved them! He gave me so many great ideas and adjustments I can make to improve them before I meet his friend at the university! I actually- I got the referral!" George's eyes were glimmering, his smile had never been so wide, and Dream was trying very hard to focus on that, instead of on the fact he wanted nothing more than to celebrate by kissing George.

"I'm so proud of you- genuinely, George. You… I knew you'd- oh!" Dream cut himself off when George buried his face into the crook of his neck, either crying tears of joy, or maybe his adrenaline rush was finally crashing.

Dream wrapped his arms around George's waist and adjusted how he was sitting in his lap to be more comfortable. He looked up just in time to see Dot, the secretary, closing his office door with a polite wave. Based on the sight of Gary and John throwing him a few thumbs-ups from the other side of the lobby, Dream put together that George must've not shut the door behind him, and not that Dot had just opened it.

Dream gave her an apologetic smile, not wanting to stop rubbing George's back with either of his hands to give her a wave- or to flip off Gary and John, which in hindsight, he definitely should've done.

"Sorry, sorry- I'm good." George sat back up, taking a second to wipe the lingering tears from his face before standing. He let out a funny sounding grunt, kind of like his body was still full of excess energy that he needed to expel somehow.

George spent the following hour giving Dream a play-by-play of the meeting, as well as explaining all the adjustments he wanted to make to the prototypes he had on hand. Dream sat back and watched with a smile, sharing his sandwich with George, while George bounced around his office with every point he made.

George's presence in the office became a rather frequent occurrence from that point on. Every time he made an improvement to his scent blockers or had a meeting with a potential investor, he'd come in to update Henry on his progress.

It was almost jarring the first time George came in after his next preheat began. Dream wasn't the only one who wasn't expecting George to give him his undivided attention- Henry was rather shocked by it too.

Instead of sandwiches made with the end pieces of bread in brown paper bags, George brought him home-cooked meals in Tupperware lined with tin foil. It was still a little embarrassing that now all his colleagues knew the real George, meaning they could piece together this was what George was like when his heat was approaching.

Some of them tried to give him advice- warnings were more like it- on how to deal with the cons of living with an omega in heat, but Dream was starting to believe none of them had ever even been with an omega before. They cautioned him of things Dream looked forward to, and advised him against situations he was happily putting himself in.

George might not be his omega, but he was his best friend, and Dream would do anything to make his life easier.

Henry approached Dream next, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Should we expect you to disappear in a drunken haze and not show up to work for a week because of an untimely rut again?” he asked, bursting into laughter before Dream could even sputter a response.

“Not tonight, but he will be out next week,” George chimed in over his shoulder, having followed Bobby to greet the rest of Dream’s colleagues.

Dream didn’t need any alcohol in his system for his cheeks to flush after that.

“You did see the letter I left in your office about-”

“Oh, yes- yes. George also reminded me when we spoke on the phone earlier. You’re lucky to have him, hope you know that.” Henry winked, slapping Dream’s shoulder once more before heading back to his table.

"The luckiest," Dream grumbled under his breath.

Just when Dream was about to drag George to the bathroom and make his 'threat of a good time' a reality to get them out of there, he came to the terrifying realization that George was no longer in his line of sight. In one second flat, Dream's heart pounded with anxiety.

"Bobby- hey, Bob- oh my god, Robert." Dream let out a huff, grabbing the intern by the shoulder when calling his name proved ineffective.

"Oh, hey! Sorry, I- I must've not heard you over this, like, over the band." Bobby smiled at him, wide and dopey looking. Any other day it'd be endearing, but today it was giving him a headache.

"Where did George go? He was just here."

"Who's George?" Bobby tilted his head to the side, and- fuck- maybe George had a point about Bobby not remembering anything.

"My mate- where is my mate?"

"Oh! You're, yeah- he uh, he was definitely-"

"I'm right here," George said through a sigh from behind him. Dream turned around immediately, nearly knocking the drinks out of George's hands in the process.

"Yeah, there he is!" Bobby added, waving at George, who merely nodded as his form of acknowledgement.

"Why do you have two drinks? Did someone tell you to get them a drink? Bobby, did you-"

"It's for you, oh my goodness, Dream," George interrupted. He jutted the drink out to Dream, despite Dream's blatant apprehension.

"I told you I'm not drinking tonight," Dream said quietly.

"These are your options- have a drink, or let me light scent you. Either way, you need something to calm you down." George's tone became a bit more understanding towards the end. "Come on, I even got you a nasty whiskey sour- your favorite."

Dream smiled softly at George's grimace, accepting the glass while George took a sip of his own drink- something fruity in a martini glass. It was bordering on unfathomable how Dream could feel so irritated by everything and everyone when George was gone, but the second he was back, it was like Dream could breathe again.

"I'm not gonna last an hour," Dream mumbled, glancing back at the group to make sure no one was looking their way before he wrapped his arm around George's waist and pulled him close enough to kiss his hairline.

"Come on, you saw how happy Hank was when we got here. He said it himself- you never go out with your coworkers anymore." George furrowed his brow.

"Why would I go out when I know you're at home waiting for me?" Dream asked rhetorically, pairing it with a kiss to George's cheek. If he got the chance to make one more point, maybe he could kiss George's lips next.

"Well, I'm not at home waiting for you now, am I? I'm here, with you, at the bar where we first met." George smiled, clinking his glass against Dream's before taking another sip.

"That's the second time you've brought that up tonight." Dream returned the smile, but didn't take a drink. If the choices were alcohol or George's pheromones, the latter won every time.

"Like that wasn't the first thing you thought when you heard we were coming here." George rolled his eyes, pairing it with pushing up the bottom of Dream's glass, urging him to take a sip.

Dream moved the glass away, setting it on the nearest table. George gave him a disapproving glance, but it was replaced with a pleased look when Dream slid his hand into George's. It was clear George was trying to play it off like it was some kind of inconvenience, finishing the rest of his drink before handing his glass off to Dream.

"Slow down," Dream mumbled, setting George's empty glass beside his full one. George, much like himself, wasn't a big drinker, so Dream had a feeling if this was the pace George was setting for the night, he'd be in for a handful by the time they got home.

"Maybe you just need to keep up." George raised his brows at Dream, turning to stand directly in front of him with their hands still held together.

Dream reached out to cup George's cheek. It wasn't warm yet, but he had a feeling that would change soon.

Before Dream had the chance to say anything in return, George's wrist gland brushed against his. It was crazy how something they did multiple times a day suddenly felt so different- felt so much better. Granted, he was already at a point where not having at least a hint of George's pheromones in his system at all times was a disorienting experience, but it didn't usually feel this way. Like, he could definitely tell George was trying to say something to him, but it was as though all his words blended together in a beautiful mix of roses and honey.

"Dream?" George said quietly.

Dream opened his eyes, not realizing he'd even closed them- let alone that he'd laid his head down on George's shoulder.

"Hmm?" he hummed, leaning a little closer to George's neck gland, searching for the hint of petrichor within George’s rose garden.

"Oh my god- I said you should go get me another drink." George chuckled, running his free hand through Dream's hair, seeing that their fingers were still intertwined. Dream melted a bit more from the act, wrapping his free arm around George's waist.

"I just want to take you home," he mumbled, indulging his inner in a brief kiss to George's gland before pulling away. His inner was hardly appeased, seeing that it'd been demanding for Dream to bite, not kiss.

"You haven't even talked to anyone since we got here- you've just been glued to me. Go socialize and then, if you're good, maybe we'll go home a little early," George bargained, guiding Dream to look at him. He hardly needed to be guided, considering he could barely perceive they weren't alone.

"Fine, one more drink, then we split the scene." Dream narrowed his gaze, but his smile quickly returned when George challenged his look.

It never mattered that Dream was an alpha and George was an omega- George was the one who called the shots between them any day of the week.

"Dream?” George called out as soon as Dream turned towards the bar, his voice barely audible over the growing crowd between them. "Make it a double!"

Dream scoffed and shook his head, but smiled a little wider no less as he watched George trickle back to the group of his coworkers. Even if it was neither of their intention, the fact George was able to make such a consistent and positive impression on his coworkers had the side effect of opening a few doors for him career-wise. Although Dream had a feeling Hank had a little crush on George, he didn't mind so long as it meant he passed along George's good reputation to his friends.

He leaned against one of the only spots still available at the bar, waiting to be noticed by the bartender. Once he flashed her a smile, she immediately shifted her focus from the fellow she was speaking to. Dream was surprised that could smell she was an omega before she even got to him- her pheromones warm and caramel-smelling.

“Can I get whatever drink is red and fruity that comes in a martini glass- and can you make it a double?” he asked with a hopeful smile, realizing he was a bit of an idiot for not asking George what he was drinking before going to the bar.

She seemed endeared by his guess, simply nodding and then stepping away to start the drink.

Just as Dream turned around to see if he could spot George from across the room, something much worse grabbed his attention.

“I’m telling you, that dark-haired omega- the one who smelled like roses- I’m bringing him home tonight. Come on, don’t give me that look! He was flirting with me from the moment he got up to the bar. I have a feeling he likes to play hard to get and I'm definitely up for the challenge.”

Dream wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up, or throw a fist.

"Oh man, you're just cruisin' for a bruisin'," a different man said in response.

“Pfft, you know what? I’m going to go find him. Yeah, I'm gonna find him right now and I bet I’ll have him in heat before we even get to my car. Just you wait and-”

“Your double daiquiri, sir.”

Dream turned back around, finding the bartender leaning over the tabletop to slide the drink right up to him. He gave her an extremely forced smile, dropping a quarter down on the bar before grabbing the glass.

He wasn’t in charge anymore- his inner was the one tracking down the scum making their way to his-…

George wasn't his, even if Dream loathed that fact.

George wasn't his, even if George's pheromones threw Dream into a rut the night they met.

George wasn't his, even if George had no hesitation about moving in with him- with an alpha he barely knew.

George wasn't his, even if they acted like mates in nearly every meaning of the word, to the point of being mistaken as them just walking into a room together.

George wasn't his, so Dream had no excuse for why his blood boiled at the sight of another alpha ogling at (not) his George, (not) his omega, (not) his mate.

If his inner wasn’t the one calling the shots, Dream would‘ve stopped his mission, but it was a little too late for that.

By some miracle, Dream beat the other man to George, who was looking at him with a confused smile- clearly he was happy to see his refill arrive, but wasn’t expecting Dream to look so intense.

“Is everything-”

“Sit on my lap- now,” Dream instructed in a rough whisper, discarding George’s drink onto the nearest table.

There wasn’t time for George to argue, seeing that Dream had already wrapped his hands around George’s waist and pulled him in closer. He could see the other alpha approaching when he glanced over George’s head, but he was apparently uncaring of Dream’s obvious claim, having yet to meet his gaze.

His eyes lingered on George’s ass, but then climbed their way up his body until they were locked with Dream’s.

Dream took that as his cue to sit, bringing George down with him.

“Dream,” George whispered against his cheek, wrapping both his arms around the back of Dream’s neck to balance himself.

“Kiss my neck,” he said under his breath, still locked into a staring contest with the other man.

He had one hand wrapped around George’s waist, hardly needing to support him, considering George eagerly came closer and followed his instructions.

The look of cockiness the other alpha initially presented with faded as soon as George kissed his way down to Dream’s gland. Just to make sure there was absolutely zero confusion of who was taking George home- who was George’s alpha- Dream slid his hand up George’s parted thighs, not stopping until he was fully palming George, all while he stared down a total stranger and George whimpered against his skin.

When the other man started to take a few steps backwards, Dream made sure he was the last to look away, going as far as smirking at the retreating alpha.

"Whoa-"

Dream glanced over his shoulder, finding none other than Beta-Bobby sitting on a chair almost directly behind his and George's seat.

"Walk away, Bobby," Dream said as a warning, shifting his focus back to George once he saw Bobby scurry off in his peripheral vision.

"Are you oka-"

"No, Dream. I am not okay," George interrupted.

Dream closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He kind of figured that would be George's response.

"I'm sorry. There was just-"

"Stop moving!" George cut him off again, but that time his voice was more of a panicked whisper.

Dream froze, not exactly sure why George was seething from his possessiveness, but didn't want to get off his lap…

But then Dream realized the issue.

"Oh my god- George," Dream said under his breath. He was half-horrified, half-salivating with desire.

"You can't seriously be blaming me for this." George leaned back just enough to look Dream in the eyes.

It was all too much- the way George's pupils had blown, the desperation in his gaze, the feeling of warm slick soaking into Dream's pants. Dream immediately held George by the back of the head, guiding him back down to his shoulder.

"What are you-"

"I'll kiss you if you keep looking at me like that, and then I'll do a lot more than just kiss you," Dream explained through a ragged breath, shifting his focus onto literally anything else- anything other than the fact George's slick was warming between their bodies. Potentially the only good thing about their position was that- other than likely traumatizing the intern- it didn't seem like they'd caught anyone else's attention.

"Breathe, Dream," George said far more calmly. Dream tried to do as instructed, but it wasn't until George reached around aimlessly until he found Dream's wrist and began light scenting him that Dream actually felt like he was mildly in control again.

"I'm good, I'm good," he mumbled, pulling his hand away before George scented him to the point of falling asleep.

"And you're going to stay good. As long as you don’t move, my slick will have dried enough for us to make it outside by the time I finish my drink. Got it?" George explained slowly, leaning forward to grab his forgotten daiquiri off the table.

"I'm going to stay good," Dream echoed, adjusting them so he was sitting up straight against the back of the couch, hopefully making their position appear a bit less compromising. It was just in the nick of time too, considering that was the moment Henry spotted them and invited himself onto the other end of the couch.

"What did we just say?" George said under his breath, resting his hand atop Dream's, which he then realized was anchored onto George's hip with an iron grip. Dream dropped some of the tension in his trembling fist, channeling his need to claim George as his own by marking him with his scent as discreetly as possible.

"Look at you two. Not a- not even a year ago you were two strangers here, now you're the happiest mates I've seen in a long while." Henry gave them a rather drunken smile, but at least if his inhibitions were diluted from the alcohol, it meant he was less likely to notice the scent of George's slick.

"Henry, you know we're-"

"You know what they say- no one falls in love faster than a man who needs a place to live," George interrupted, wrapping his arm back around Dream's neck, while his boss laughed far harder than the joke called for.

"Let me- let me guess, and no one stays in love longer than a man who needs a visa?" Henry added, getting a laugh out of George, while Dream remained unmoved.

His inner was wagging its tail and running in a circle at the the realization George was proudly telling another alpha he was Dream's- he was in love with Dream. Unfortunately, the not-quite-in-rut portion of his brain couldn't help but feel the somber gravity of the situation.

At the end of the day, it was nothing more than a joke to George.

Dream kept his mouth shut, merely offering his colleagues nothing more than the occasional smile and nod as they each shuffled in some form of queue to sit on the couch with them and converse about who knows what.

"Ugh, I'm drunk," George grumbled against the side of Dream's face, bumping his nose repeatedly against Dream's cheek in the same way Patches did each morning when she wanted to be fed.

Dream scanned the room- well, more like he scanned about five feet in front of them. As the night went on, the club grew more dense. The sea of bodies surrounding them made him feel claustrophobic, but at least it meant they'd have a decent cover to get out of the building without anyone noticing the damp spots on their pants.

"Then it's time to leave."

"Why are you- you're being such a party pooper," George grumbled unhappily, tucking his face into the crook of Dream's neck.

"How does wanting to get you home safe-"

"Because you're, like, you're ignoring me. How can you ignore the person in your lap?" George interrupted with a groan, hugging himself more closely to Dream's chest.

Dream trailed his hand up George's back, rubbing the space between his shoulder blades while George continued to whine like an overly-tired toddler.

"Let's just go home." Dream shifted George in an attempt to pull him away, but George doubled down. "George, come on-"

"No. I'm drunk." George hit his head against Dream's shoulder, pausing his movements when he realized that hitting his forehead directly on a bone hurt, resulting in a quiet 'ow' mumbled under his breath.

"George-"

"Tell me you love me," he interrupted, pulling away enough to look at Dream with far too endearing of a pout-slash-scowl. Dream let out an audible exhale through his nose, bringing his hand up to hold George's cheek in his hand. His skin was warm to the touch, which was really saying something coming from the alpha scarily-close to his rut.

"George." Dream lowered his voice a bit, getting ready to give into George's demand, when suddenly George was leaning in for a kiss while pressing himself flush against Dream again.

"I love you! Okay, there- I said it," Dream conceded, trying his best to speak through George's continued attempt to kiss him. After a few more seconds, George stopped, only to pull away and look at Dream just as upset as before.

"That's not fair." George's brow tensed, but Dream was quick to rest his thumb in the space between them, coaxing him to relax.

"Let's talk about fairness in the cab." Dream nodded his head slowly, leaning forward to kiss George's cheek. Surprisingly, George put up no further argument, standing from Dream's lap without a word.

Dream draped his suit jacket over George's shoulders, thankful the material was long enough to cover George's slick stain… and maybe also because it blocked the view of his ass from any wandering eyes.

At least George's blatant drunkenness was a decent free-pass for them to leave with little pushback from his colleagues. Henry threw a few final jokes their way about the roles being reversed this year, but he was thankfully drunk enough to not pick up on how unenthusiastic their laughter was.

Dream guided George out of the club, leading the way with his hand extended behind him to pull George along. The night was cool and the slight mist in the air clung to Dream's forearms where he'd rolled up his sleeves. He barely had the chance to look at George before he was wrapping his arms around the back of Dream's neck and jumping into his arms as a poor attempt at claiming some of his warmth.

With one hand supporting George beneath his thighs and another raised in the air, Dream had a feeling they looked like the kind of people vacant cabs would drive right past.

"You're not fair," George grumbled, his voice barely audible over the sound of cars driving through shallow puddles in the road.

"What am I doing that's unfair? I'm literally hailing you a cab while carrying you," Dream countered with a soft scoff. When a cab pulled over to drive up to where they were waiting along the curb, Dream lowered his arm and wrapped it around George's back.

"I said I'm in love with you, but you only said you love me- not you're in love with me. That's what's unfair."

Dream's breath hitched in his throat, but the cab driver was waiting for them to climb into the car and he had to get George out of the rain. He had priorities and indulging himself in George's drunken claims wasn't very high up on that list.

Getting George to stand on his own two feet was no small battle, even if he barely had to take one step on his own to sit down in the back seat. Dream rattled off their address to the cab driver, while George alternated between trying to crawl back into his lap and facing towards the window to pout.

Needless to say, it was probably the most tedious cab ride of Dream's life.

George was back to being upset with him by the time they pulled up to their house, which left Dream awkwardly paying the toll for the cab while George stumbled his way through the front lawn. He guessed it was no mistake that the cab driver wished him 'good luck' instead of 'goodnight'.

Dream followed in George's path, closing the door behind him only to find George's clothes already thrown across the floor, like the first thing he did once he was inside was strip. One by one, Dream collected each article of clothing that made a trail to George's room.

"George? I think you dropped these," Dream said with a small smile, knocking on the door to George's bedroom. A few seconds later, the door swung open, but George wasn't answering to accept his clothes.

He walked directly around Dream, acting as if he wasn't even there, despite the fact he'd changed into one of Dream's button-ups and… nothing else.

"George-" Dream rubbed his face with a groan, tossing George's clothes into his laundry basket before following after him once again.

Dream wasn't exactly sure what point George was trying to prove by giving him the silent treatment while wearing his clothes and going into his room. He'd only seen George drunk a small handful of times, but he'd never been this poorly behaved in the past.

"Okay, enough." Dream held his arms out to block the doorway, shifting his body from side-to-side when George continued to try to squeeze around him.

"I want our daughter- let me go get her." George rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, mustering up as much attitude as he could produce while struggling to stay upright. It was easy to say Dream regretted actually ordering George a double.

"Daughter? George- oh, good gracious- don't call the dumpster cat our daughter." Dream let out a groan, begrudgingly stepping to the side when George did nothing more than stare at him with an annoyed expression.

While George was undoubtedly crawling under all the furniture in search of the cat, Dream reached up to loosen his tie. He took one glance at his bed, then back down at his clothes, then the bed again. No way in hell was he getting in there while reeking like a hundred other people.

"What are you doing?"

Dream perked up, looking over his shoulder before he even got the chance to open the bathroom door all the way. George had returned with Patches, dropping her off at the foot of the bed.

"Uh, going to take a shower before bed?" Dream raised an eyebrow.

Either his exhaustion was getting the best of him, or maybe George's look of remorse had a stronger effect on him when his rut was so near. Whatever the case may have been, Dream found himself walking over to George with a soft smile, welcoming him back into his arms now that his sour mood had passed.

“There’s my angel,” Dream said quietly against the top of George’s head.

"Don't shower," George mumbled against his chest, leaning more heavily into Dream's embrace.

"I stink like sweat and-"

"Possessiveness. You smell like an alpha that put up a fight for me and won. Don't wash it off yet… makes me feel safe." George's words grew slower and more slurred together, like finally letting himself be supported by Dream was all it took to put him to sleep- or at least get him eighty-percent of the way there.

"Is that why you went and got Patches, hmm? Wanted to see if I'd get possessive over you if she tried to steal your attention from me?" Dream teased, relishing in the muffled laugh George couldn't suppress.

"How stupid is it if I say yes?" George asked in return, leaning back to look up at Dream with glassy eyes and a tired smile.

"I'd expect no less from you," Dream mumbled against George's lips, figuring there wasn't much more harm that could come from one last kiss. George hummed happily into it, snaking his arms up Dream's chest until they were wrapped around the back of his neck.

"Sorry if I embarrassed you tonight." George lowered himself from his tiptoes, moving one of his hands to Dream's face, using his thumb to gently caress Dream's cheek.

"Pretty sure nothing will be more embarrassing than the night we met- not even your little slick mishap," Dream assured him with a laugh, guiding George towards the bed. George complied with being led, allowing Dream to tuck him under the covers where he could happily watch him change into his pajamas.

"You know that's not what I meant," George said quietly, scooting closer to Dream once he joined him in bed.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned through a yawn, finding himself getting closer and closer to sleep with each adjustment George made.

"About how I, like, how I told you I'm in love with you for the first time in front of Hank of all people." George let out a rather embarrassed sounding groan, hiding his face in Dream's chest.

There it was again, the little spark of hope that had his inner wiggling and his heart aching.

"It's okay. He thinks… he knows we're just friends, so don't worry about it." Dream did his best to both comfort George and himself, seeing that even he wasn't sure if he believed what he was saying. The fact they were also cuddled together in his bed made it feel like a rather ironic thing to say at the moment.

"What? No, he doesn't," George countered, propping his head up for less than a second before dropping it back down to Dream's chest. "I told him basically forever ago that we're courting."

"You… you what?" Dream asked breathlessly, apparently going rigid enough to prevent George from falling asleep on him.

"It just, I don't know, at the time it seemed easier than trying to explain why two friends who just happen to be an alpha and an omega live together. Plus, I mean…" George trailed off, even though Dream desperately needed George to finish his thought.

"Plus what, George?" he asked, urging him to continue what he was saying.

"Plus… ugh- I don't know how many more hints you expect me to give you, Dream. Like, I legitimately told you earlier today to spend your rut with me- to literally mark me! Maybe I'm just worried about the drop I'll go through if you reject me for real and that's why I keep living in this delusion that we're together, but- for goodness’ sake- what more do I have to do for you to want me back?"

Maybe… maybe Dream's rut had already begun and he was the one living in a delusion, because there was no way George actually said what he just said.

"Just-" George started to sit up, causing Patches to jump off the bed from all the commotion. "Forget I said anything."

"What? No- no, get back here." Dream followed after George, returning to his senses just in time to grab George's bicep before he could get out of the bed. "I just- I'm way too close to my rut to tell if you're serious, or just drunk."

"Well-" George paused, tugging his arm out of Dream's grasp, opting to sit up with his legs crisscrossed. "If you don't feel the same, I'm just drunk, but if you do feel the same… I'm serious."

"For how long?" Dream asked, still torn over whether or not he should use this as his opportunity to come clean. No matter what, George could still take it all back once he was sober.

"I don't know," he mumbled, pointedly avoiding Dream's gaze. "I shouldn't say that- I remember the exact moment I realized I was in love, it's just the falling part that I can't pinpoint." He finally glanced at Dream, his eyes heavy with something akin to guilt.

"This is the part where you tell me the exact moment," Dream whispered, a smile creeping onto his lips as he sat up.

"No, I think this is the part where you tell me some stuff before I embarrass myself any further." George doubled down, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dream let out a shaky exhale, wondering if he could get away with not saying anything if he ambushed George with kissing… or maybe even scenting.

"Tell me you love me," George whispered, his stoic facade crumbling with each inch that Dream came closer. "Tell me you love me because you love me, not because I'm telling you to tell-"

"I love you, George. I more than love you. I've been in love with you since damn near the night we met," Dream interrupted with a soft laugh, jumping on the opportunity to kiss George while his guard was down.

"Wait, are you- is this just your rut?" George asked, pushing against Dream's shoulders to create a sliver of space between them.

"It's as much my rut as it's you being drunk,” Dream deflected, not sure if his reasoning made sense outside of his head. He couldn't help but whine when George continued to push him away.

"Dream, I'm- I'm being so incredibly serious right now. This isn't some drunk babble because I wanna sleep with you tonight. I really, really mean it when I say I just want to be your mate already," George pleaded, though Dream couldn't figure out why he felt the need to plead with him.

"Okay- okay… Tell me what to do- how do I prove that I want to be with you?" Dream shook his head, feeling a smidge better when George stopped pulling away.

"Promise you won't leave for your rut."

"Done, easy, I'll never leave for it again," Dream readily agreed, going as far as leaning over the edge of the bed to reach his suitcase, flipping it over to spill all the folded clothes onto the floor. George chuckled at his haste, but Dream couldn't help but think George was sitting a little closer to him once he'd sat back up.

"Scent me while we do what you're supposed to do while scenting," George continued, crawling over Dream's lap.

"I mean," he trailed off, running his hands up George's waist while he laid back down. He'd nearly forgotten George wasn't wearing anything on his lower half, and that was making him regret putting on pajama pants in the first place. "You act like we don't already basically have sex all the time."

"That's the point- I want to take the stupid basically out of it," George complained, lowering himself onto Dream's chest with a noticeable pout.

“Fine, instead of accidentally thrusting when you ask me to breed you… I’ll do it on purpose from now on.” Dream nodded, realizing his inner was quickly making its way back up to his head at the mention of breeding George.

“And you-”

“I think it’s my turn to make a demand,” Dream interrupted, greedily slipping his hand beneath George’s shirt- well, his shirt that George was wearing.

“Oh, is that so?” George scoffed.

Of all the things George could’ve done, he chose the cruelest one imaginable. He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, making him completely naked while straddling Dream. Needless to say, if George's plan was to make Dream incapable of speaking, he was successful.

“Dream, Dream, Dream,” George said through an amused sigh, looking far too comfortable sitting on the high ground, enjoying Dream's brain being wiped clean.

“You really do look like an angel,” Dream said softly, his gaze bouncing around George’s exposed… everything. "Tell me…" Dream mumbled while sliding his hands up the front of George's chest, determined to learn the truth. "Tell me the moment you knew."

George tilted his head to the side with a devious smile, clearly dragging out the moment. Dream barely had enough strength to wait out George's game, seeing that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second he was left straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Remember the time you went on that idiotic business trip in the middle of my preheat?" George asked, leaning back so he could begin to unbutton Dream's pajama top. At that point, he couldn't do much more than nod, so that was the only response he gave.

"Well, I dropped pretty much as soon as you left." George swallowed, avoiding Dream's heavy gaze. "But it wasn't like any of the other drops I’ve had after a heat. It was… It was so much worse."

"George-"

"Shut up, I'm not done," George cut him off, letting out a deep breath and laying his hands flat on the exposed part of Dream's chest. "I was so convinced I hated you- that as soon as my heat was over I would move out and never speak to you again, because it was your fault I was dropping so hard."

"I'm sorry," Dream whispered, laying his hands on top of George's.

"But then you came home… you came home and suddenly I realized I couldn't leave, because I never wanted to go a day in my life without seeing you again." George looked him in the eyes, his previously confident smile shifting to something vulnerable and quivering. "I realized I wasn't nearly close enough to my heat to blame all the love and relief I felt seeing you again on my cycle. It was when you came back to me that I knew I was in love with you."

"George, that was- that was your second heat here!" Dream shook his head, thinking of all the time that had passed between then and now. "It's been months and you haven't said anything."

"Maybe not… but I do things." George's smile grew a little softer. "I bring you lunch to the office, even when I'm not in preheat. I make sure to get red roses every time I buy groceries, because I might smell like them, but I know you love to look at them too. After I met your mum on Independence Day, I've spoken with her on the phone every weekend- one, because I adore her, but two, because I know family is everything to you. I mean- hell, Dream- I even started wearing that atrocious shade of green you love more often! I've done everything I can think of to show you I love you ever since I realized my feelings."

Dream was at a loss for words, his brain hazy with desire, love, and a newfound sense of appreciation.

"So what you're saying is… I'm a big, dumb, idiot for not piecing that together?" Dream asked with a hesitant smile, seeing that George's expression had remained rather guarded.

"I'm saying," he paused, leaning down to hover over Dream's face- specifically hover his gland over Dream's mouth. "I don't want to waste any more time."

"No time spent with you has ever been wasted," Dream countered, mumbling his words against George's neck, indulging the both of them in a few laps of his tongue over his gland.

Dream sat up, keeping George held close to his chest. After slipping out of his unbuttoned shirt, he cupped George's face in the palms of his hands, keeping his lips just out of George's reach. At the same time George furrowed his brow, Dream lowered one of his hands and dragged his wrist across George's neck gland. They'd been kissing the last time he did that, so he wanted to see the expression George made.

It was beautiful, like everything else about George. Watching the way his eyes fluttered shut, the tension melted from his face, and his jaw went slack- it was unlike anything Dream had ever seen.

Dream wrapped his free hand around George's waist when he started to slump backwards, continuing to rub their glands with the other. Using his wrist to scent George's neck felt like he was cheating the system- he could give George the effects of scenting without feeling them himself.

"Oh, George," Dream murmured his name, his attention having been drawn to his thighs, where George had officially started dripping slick onto him.

He pulled away, using both hands to guide George to his chest. Dream had no idea what George was trying to say, seeing that everything was coming out as an incoherent whine. Dream hummed, satisfied with the fact George was nothing more than moldable putty.

Dream laid back slowly, lifting his hips in the air to push his pants down. He let out a small grunt when his dick sprung forward, tapping against the wet space between George's spread cheeks.

"You asshole," George grumbled, apparently having come back to his senses enough to break free from the submissive state Dream scented him into.

"Pfft, you loved it," Dream countered with a light scoff. He trailed one hand slowly down the length of George's back, smiling to himself at the way it made George shiver. "Sensitive?"

"And what about it?" George asked back, all the snark in his tone being whisked away once Dream's middle finger sunk inside. He fully buried his face in Dream's neck, while his hips arched into the air on their own accord.

"Don't present yourself yet- I'm not even back there to enjoy the view," Dream whispered softly, taking in a deep breath when he felt additional slick running down his fingers. His mouth was watering from the smell, saliva pooling in his mouth like simple syrup.

"I love you- I need you," George murmured against his skin, his breathing growing shallow and hot with every thrust of Dream's fingers.

"I'll give you everything." Dream rolled them over, wasting no time before leaning down and bringing their neck glands together. That was the first time George had ever really moaned for him. It wasn't until he heard the real thing that Dream realized all the other sounds George made during his preheats were more like desperate pleas for more.

And Dream could finally give him more.

"Shh, shh," Dream hushed against George's lips when started pushing himself inside. He was physically trembling from holding himself back, but he would do whatever it took to keep George as comfortable as possible.

"Gonna breed me, right? Please say you'll finish in me," George begged, his nails sinking into Dream's back when he pushed himself deeper.

"Of course I will. Of course I'm going to breed you." Dream groaned again, grasping onto the pillow beside George's head with a shaking fist, his chest starting to ache from how hard all his muscles were straining.

"You look like- Dream, please- you're going to burst a blood vessel… just stop holding back," George urged, bringing one of his hands to Dream's face, pushing away some of the hair that was covering his eyes.

"I can't hurt you." Dream shook his head, but his eyes squinted shut and his forehead fell to George's collarbone when George squeezed around him.

"You're so big," George murmured, causing Dream to unintentionally lurch another inch deeper.

"Stop that, I know what you're-"

"So lucky that my alpha takes- Dream- god, you take such good care of me." George whimpered and threw his head back into the pillows when Dream pushed in further, his hips acting on their own accord with each praise George sang to him.

"George, you don't-"

"The sooner you move, the sooner you'll be coming inside of me- so please, just take me."

Dream gasped for air, his mind fuzzy and thoughts clouded by his inner's judgement, instructing him to bite, bite, bite-

"Bite me- claim me as yours, Dream. I want- please- I want us both to remember it, so you have to do it before your rut starts. Please, Dream- alpha… mark me."

"I love you," Dream whispered against George's neck, feeling like he could finally take in a breath when George produced enough slick that it started dripping out around him. "I love you more than anything."

Dream slowly pulled out, working against the way George had wrapped his legs around his hips to keep him inside. He leaned back just enough to meet George's gaze, struggling to keep his eyes open when he began pushing himself back in.

George nodded his head slowly, hypnotizing Dream with the slight movement, and let his head fall to the side, presenting his gland to Dream.

Just to satisfy his own desires, Dream leaned down and scented George again, moaning from the pleasure and the way he could feel how close George was to his climax- his legs shaking where they remained wrapped around Dream's midsection, nearly falling slack with each thrust of Dream's hips.

"I'll always love you, I promise," Dream whispered, his lips grazing over George's gland in the process. George had moved one hand to the back of Dream's head, desperately pulling him in closer with a trembling fist tangled in his curls.

"Promise," George echoed, like he was returning the sentiment to Dream.

With a final whimpered-moan from George, Dream lapped his tongue over the source of the sweetness surrounding him inside and out, then opened his mouth as wide as he could before sinking his teeth into George's skin.

Everything went bright white after that. George's cries were far off in the distance compared to the pounding of his heart in his ears. His mind felt disconnected from his body in a way he'd never experienced. He knew he was still fucking into George with everything he had left in him, he could feel his orgasm getting closer and closer, and he was sure that George was already coming all over their chests, but he was out of control of everything.

"Dream-"

George was clawing long lines of pink scratches down his back, but he didn't know why.

"Alpha!"

Dream unclenched his jaw, releasing George's gland from his teeth, and suddenly he wasn't in that liminal space anymore- he was back in his bed, pouring come inside George, while his knot expanded inside his omega.

"I didn’t-"

"Stay, stay, stay!" George rushed, lugging Dream back to his chest by his shoulders. His arms were shaking around Dream's frame, and Dream didn't dare move another inch without George's explicit permission.

"Hurt," Dream whispered, opening his eyes to see the swollen area around George's gland, a few of his teeth indents slowly trickling out blood.

"Not hurt- happy." George lulled his head to the side so he could face Dream with a smile. His eyes were glassy and he had pink lines running down his face, almost like a parallel to the lines Dream knew were marking his back.

"Hap-happy?" Dream asked, struggling to form any words when George kept adjusting below him, squeezing his knot with every movement.

"Happy to be yours." George nodded, brushing his lips against Dream's. He didn't get the chance to kiss him, seeing that Dream rolled them over so George could rest on top of him. George's entire body quivered at first from the position change, but he relaxed after a few seconds, silently agreeing the switch was for the better.

"Rest now, you need… you rest," Dream instructed, his eyes unfocusing before they closed. George had started light scenting him and it was everything Dream didn't know he needed. His muscles went limp, George peppered his chest and neck with light kisses, and the world finally felt quiet.

—

Dream woke up to the sound of crying. It was soft, clearly an intentionally-hushed type of cry. As he shifted, his body immediately ached in response to the week of hell he'd just awoken from. But in less than a second, everything came rushing back to him.

The confessions, the decision George would stay for his rut, having sex with George for the first time, then… nothing- no, not nothing. Crying.

"George?" Dream asked through a hoarse voice, his throat not used to speaking properly since his rut began.

"Gosh- sorry, I'm sorry," George rushed, wiping his tears, as if that would prevent Dream from having noticed them in the first place.

Dream's heart sank to his stomach, making him feel something so remorseful and guilty, he had virtually nothing to compare it to.

"Oh my god, what did I do?" Dream asked under his breath, horrified by the unsightly view before him- all the bruises that littered George's back with shades varying from yellow to purple, each one like a copy of his own handprint scattering George's skin.

"Dream, that's not-"

"Oh my god- what did I do?" Dream repeated, his panic growing tenfold when George rolled over to face him, revealing not only a plethora of more bruises, but the unmistakable half-healed mating mark over his neck gland.

"Dream, I'm-"

"I can't- I'm so sorry, George. I'm- I- I don't know how to fix this I'm- oh, George," Dream trailed off, reaching out to wipe George's freshly fallen tears. His instincts were screaming to carry George to the car, to get him to a hospital or something, but realistically he knew if George was hurt to that degree, moving him would be the worst thing he could do.

"I'll never hurt you again, I promise. I'll never-"

"I wasn't in heat!" George interrupted, finally collecting himself enough to push Dream's hand away from his face, only for more tears to escape.

Dream remained frozen, unsure what to do with the information George threw at him. On the bright side, George could clearly move without difficulty, so the tears weren't from pain, they were just from… him.

"Uh, what?" he mumbled.

What George said made no sense in his mind- of course George wasn't in heat. His preheat was supposed to be only a few days in by the time Dream's rut finished, so it was impossible for his heat to have started that early. Still, Dream wasn't sure how much logic he could realistically use when George was crying and his own brain hadn't quite figured out what the hell was going on.

"I'm not- I wasn't in heat, Dream," George said through a sniffle, his chin quivering when he finally looked at Dream again. "But I wanted to be."

It felt like the more information George shared, the less sense Dream was able to make of it.

"I don't, uh, I'm not sure what to say… or what that has to do with this?" Dream questioned, tilting his head to the side. Guilt panged in his chest at the sight of George's swollen bite mark once more.

When Dream reached out to cradle George's neck, George grabbed him by the wrist, redirecting his hand down to his stomach.

"You're supposed to hold me here. Nowhere else, only here." George nodded his head, his dark irises growing glossy with tears clouding his vision.

To hopefully make the tears stop, Dream nodded in agreement, moving closer to George so he could rub his hand over his stomach while George hid his face in his chest. Easily, this had become the worst feeling Dream had ever experienced.

George was hurting and not only did he not know how to fix it, but he was somehow also the cause of it.

Then it clicked in Dream's head- the tearfulness, the wanting to be held around his midsection, the way George hadn't looked away from their overlapping hands caressing his stomach- George's inner must've convinced itself, and thus also George, that he was pregnant.

Dream used the few moments of silence to rationalize the situation. In theory, George's heats had become increasingly demanding over the last year, so that had to be what this was- his preheat had begun and his inner fully believed Dream had impregnated him during his rut. Honestly, it wasn't too far of a stretch, considering the shift Dream had witnessed across George's preheats.

"I love you," Dream mumbled against the top of George's head, encouraging George to roll fully onto his side so he could rub his back. Surprisingly, George complied, even wrapping his arms around the back of Dream's neck to pull himself in closer. Dream brought both his hands to George's back, hugging him gently, still weary of the soreness he was sure must've riddled George's body.

"I love you and… and the, uh, and our baby," Dream continued, hoping his voice didn't sound as confused as he felt.

"What?" George mumbled through another sniffle, leaning away from Dream's chest to look up at him.

"I just, um, said I love our family, you know? The reason why I hold you like this?" He raised one eyebrow, moving his hand from George's back to his stomach, rubbing his thumb over his navel.

"Oh- oh, no! No, you idiot." George pushed him away with a groan, rolling over onto his back. Dream was surprised to find George's hand clasped overtop of his, keeping his palm flat against his stomach. "I didn't think I was pregnant- you thought I was."

"Why would I think that?" Dream asked under his breath, racking his mind for any memories indicating such a misunderstanding.

"Because you were in rut- I don't know?" George rolled his eyes, but his voice was sounding thick again. Hesitantly, Dream inched closer, rubbing his hand across George's stomach. "I don't- my preheat doesn't even feel like it's started yet, but it can't be me that wants to have a baby this desperately… can it? Why do I wish so badly that I could've been in heat during your rut, that way I'd actually be pregnant right now?" he asked, looking at Dream for some kind of answer.

"I don't- I'm sorry, I don't know." Dream shook his head slowly, scooting closer until their bodies were fully aligned again. The only response George seemed to have left in him was a meek nod, but he didn't push Dream away that time, so he figured it was safe to continue.

"What did I do during my rut that made you feel this way all of a sudden?" he asked, treading the dangerous waters, hoping the answer would be worth it. Dream wasn't expecting the soft laugh George let out, causing a few tears to slide down his cheeks when his eyes squinted.

"You were so stupid." George continued to laugh, turning to face Dream. If a petty insult was all it took to bring a smile back to George's face, Dream would let him call him every name in the book.

"So, not much different from how I usually am?" Dream smiled back, grateful for the fond little scoff George let out in return, but then his smile began to fade.

"Like, immediately you assumed I was carrying your child. It was convenient at times, like if you were getting too rough with me, I'd remind you to be careful of the baby and you'd calm down in a matter of seconds. You barely let me leave your bed, insisting I needed to rest. You could hardly speak, but when you did, it was always something about the baby. You fell asleep with your face pressed against my stomach more often than not and you always kept one hand right here, keeping us both safe."

Now Dream's lip was the one to quiver.

"And you don't want that," he concluded softly, resuming the motion of rubbing his thumb over George's stomach.

Ever since they met, Dream knew George was it for him. He pictured a big home, a yard full of kids, and George by his side through it all. Throughout the year of getting to know George, Dream tried to make himself stop picturing the kids in that fantasy… but he couldn't. At the very least, he convinced himself the fantasy couldn't hurt anyone but himself if it stayed in the confines of his mind.

"What if I do?" George asked, looking up at Dream like he was about to apologize. He didn't have to know about Dream's little fantasy of their future together to know Dream wanted children.

"I think your preheat has probably started, you were just showered with love by an alpha who thought you were carrying his child, and-"

"My alpha," George interrupted, making Dream pause. "Not an alpha- my alpha. We're proper mates now, that makes you mine."

Dream's gaze dropped down to George's neck, the healing mark catching his eye immediately.

"I was yours long before that mark was there." Dream smiled softly, the corners of his mouth barely up-ticking. Of everything that happened, at least officially becoming mates was something neither of them regretted.

"You want kids," George said quietly, redirecting the conversation back to the issue at hand.

"And you don't." Dream shrugged as best as he could, given their current position. "Listen to me, I can love and appreciate you as openly as I want now, so if it was the way I treated you during my rut that you're missing, I promise I'll do it all the time."

"It wasn't just that." George furrowed his brow slightly, leaning his head into the pillow. "I'd never… I viewed having kids as a shackle, as the only thing society would ever deem me capable of doing. I hadn’t given much thought to the rest of it- the part where I'd have a family, where I'd have a mate who loves me and not just the children I could birth and raise for him. I didn't think someone like you existed, so I never let myself consider the positives."

"George…" Dream sniffled, rolling over to lay on his back, hoping that his tears would stop if he wasn't looking at George, who was overflowing his heart with love and breaking it in half at the same time. "Let's just talk about this after your heat passes, okay? I don't- I can't get my hopes up."

"I told you that I don't feel like my preheat has started- Dream, this is me saying…"

"Saying maybe what if you might want kids someday?" Dream completed his thought, figuring George wasn't going to do it himself. "I've loved you for a long time, George. I might not know everything about you, but I do know this one thing, and it has never hindered the love I feel."

"I want to want kids," George whispered, moving closer to Dream's side until he could rest his head on Dream's chest.

"And that's different than wanting kids," Dream mumbled against George's hairline, pressing a kiss to his skin. His eyes fell to George's back, still covered in stray bruises and scratch marks, making guilt grow in his chest again. "I'm so sorry for hurting you," he mumbled, dropping one of his hands to George's back, gently tracing the colorful blotches on his fair skin.

"What?" George grumbled, clearly struggling to stay awake now that Dream had begun tickling his back- it was about as effective at getting George to fall asleep as light scenting was for him.

"I'll figure something out for my future ruts, that way-"

"We're spending them together from now on- don't you dare start that nonsense with me again," George interrupted, rubbing his face against Dream's chest. "I already said warning you about hurting the baby made you ease up every time, so any bruises you see are ones I wanted- ones I asked for."

At that, Dream's entire body tensed. Sure, he knew that technically he'd spent the last week having nonstop sex with George, but he wasn't lucid for any of that. He barely remembered anything from their first time, let alone any of the subsequent times.

"Do you enjoy torturing me? I'm starting to think you've taken it up as a hobby," Dream muttered into the back of George's neck after he rolled away from him, likely because of the burning scent of his pheromones.

"I have many hobbies, Dream," George answered smugly.

"Are any of them hobbies I can join in on?" Dream asked, his voice growing deeper and more gravelly. He was starting to lose himself in the spark that made itself known in George's scent, signaling that he was also privy to what was on track to happen next.

"Maybe… if you ask nicely," George said over his shoulder, his eyes squinted with a hint of mischief.

"Are you sure your preheat hasn't started?" Dream asked in a mumble, scooting closer to George until his chest was pressed against George's back.

"Not the question I expected you to ask, but yes, I'm sure it hasn't started." George chuckled, guiding Dream's hand to wrap around his waist. For a second, Dream wondered if it was an intentional choice relating to their previous conversation, or if George was just eager to get things started.

"I'm still not convinced my rut is over, like, this feels too good to be true," Dream murmured against his skin, kissing every inch within his reach. Despite knowing his mating mark was mere inches away on the other side of George's neck, he still felt the innate desire to mark George again and again. Surely that urge should've gone away by now, right?

"What are you doing?" George asked through a soft laugh, ducking his head away from Dream when his incessant sniffing became too annoying.

"You don't smell like me- aren't you supposed to smell like me now?" Dream asked, crawling on top of George when he rolled onto his stomach.

"What? Why would I smell like you? We haven't even scented in-"

"Now that we're official and stuff, I mean. Like, don't our pheromones mix?" Dream asked, though he was admittedly growing increasingly distracted by the way George arched his hips off the mattress, aligning himself with Dream.

"Is your knowledge of mates based solely on fairy tales or something?" George laughed, but there was nothing funny about the way he rolled his hips, nor the way Dream could both smell and feel the slick coating the space between his cheeks.

He gave up fighting his instinct to grind against him, dropping his head to George's shoulder blades with a shuddered moan. He had to still be in rut, because they weren't even having sex yet, but it already felt better than anything he'd ever had with previous partners.

"You know, if you weren't laying on top of me, I could present myself for you," George said eerily like a taunt, jutting his hips up an inch higher to demonstrate it was as far as he could go.

Dream did the opposite of getting off of him, actually putting more weight on George in the process of spreading his legs. He tried his best to snake one of his hands under George's abdomen to stroke him, but once again George held his hand overtop Dream's when he reached his stomach, so he decided to keep it there instead.

"When was- good god- when did we last have sex?" Dream asked through a pitiful whine when his tip caught on George's rim, nearly causing him to push inside.

"You knotted me, I don't know, a couple hours ago?" George questioned, not understanding Dream's line of reasoning.

"Oh, thank god-" Dream lined himself up with George's hole, thrusting only his tip in and out to make sure George was actually still stretched enough from their prior activities for him to skip the prep work this time.

George squeezed the hand Dream was using to hold his stomach as he buried his face into the pillows, squeaking out muffled moans when Dream actually let himself sink fully inside. George's hips trembled in their place hovering over the bed, leaving Dream struggling to hold himself back.

"'M good- I'm good," George said through an exhale after turning his face to the side.

Dream took a moment to admire the thin sheen of sweat that coated George's face, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

"You are so much more than good," Dream mumbled against George's spine, kissing across his skin. "You're an angel amongst men."

The slow drag of his hips gradually grew into quick thrusts, each one a bit harder than the last. George hadn't stopped murmuring pleas and praises unlike any other, with one hand reaching behind himself to hold onto Dream, while the other held onto the bars of his headboard, making the entire frame bounce against the wall with each rock of Dream’s hips.

In a desperate attempt to get more of George into his system somehow, Dream sat back on his knees, pulling George upright with him, and leaned forward to scent him from behind. Scenting George while having sex with him was- it was indescribable. The feeling had to be attributed to their mated status, because even the hazy flashes of memories he had of their first time together were nothing compared to this.

When time was running out and Dream could tell he was seconds away from finishing, he was pleasantly surprised to find George was already in the midst of coming when he dropped his hand to stroke him.

With the first spurt of come that he immediately thrust back into George, Dream broke their scenting, unable to stop himself from finding another place to mark George. His jaw clenched around George's shoulder, eliciting a gasp from George and a deep grunt from himself, as a mixture of come and slick seeped out around him.

"Sure you're out of rut?" George asked with a weak laugh, having gone practically limp in Dream's arms by the time Dream was done.

"Sorry, I thought that feeling would go away now that we're mates… but it kind of made the urge stronger," he admitted, kissing the indents he'd left behind before assisting George with lying back down.

"Of course it did," George grumbled sarcastically with a light scoff. "Mating couldn't have made you, oh I don't know, have a stronger urge to wash the dishes? Had to be biting me?"

"I'll do more dishes." Dream laughed while shaking his head, lying down on his side behind George.

That time, when George pulled Dream's hand over his waist to hold him by his stomach, Dream didn't think to ask questions. He scooched closer and held George a bit tighter, letting his tired eyes finally rest.

For a second, he even indulged himself in the idea that one day he might hold George in the same way, but with the addition of a new life growing inside his mate. Then for another second, he realized he still felt peace at the idea of being able to hold just George this way for the rest of their lives.

Either way, they would have many, many years together to figure it all out.