30 Day Trial Period [DreamNotFound]

13

[TW: NSFW]

George was right. Hiding his feelings would be harder than what he thought.

The day of George's arrival was spent on him catching up on sleep, and just relaxing the next day he was there. The second full day he woke in a bright beige room, the clock read 10:29AM.

Dream was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when George walked out of his room. As soon as George step foot into the kitchen, Dream looked up and greeted him, a smile on his face.

"Morning, George. I'm making breakfast for the both of us." the sizzling egg on the frying pan and the bacon beside of it should've been enough to distract George from staring.

But nothing would ever be enough to distract George from the tall, shirtless man in front of him.

Of course, Dream was in his own house. So George should've expected him to go without a shirt sometimes. But perhaps the unexpectedness of seeing Dream shirtless this soon was what struck George speechless.

Regardless, the brunet nodded and sat at the kitchen counter in the middle of the area. Dream had turned his back to him, continuing to cook the food in front of him.

George was staring. And he was thankful Dream couldn't see him staring.

The blonde's back was muscular, just as the rest of the upper half of him. His jawline could've given that away. He looked strong, like he could break a metal beam in half if he tried. His biceps bulged too, veins on his arms travelling up to disappear under honey skin.

With a proximity this close—yet also far away—and George's easily manipulated mind, it didn't take long for George to wonder if Dream could break him.

Dream pinned George to the wall, the sizzling foods on the frying pans long forgotten. The taller wasted no time in latching his lips to George's, licking desperately into the brunet's mouth.

Whines erupted from George's throat as Dream traveled lower, sucking marks into a pale throat. George's hands tugged gently on Dream's hair, earning a low groan from the blonde.

George wanted more, and much to his surprise, he got it without even asking.

Within seconds, Dream was pulling George—by the wrist—into his own room. Dream's room. The door was shut and locked, even though they were the only two in the house, and a hand was wrapped around George's throat.

"You have no fucking clue what you to do me, Georgie." Dream breathed, low and gravelly. George whined at the pet name, Dream's lips back on his in an instant before George could even think-

'Clink'

George was dragged away from his thoughts rather abruptly, a plate of eggs and bacon being sat in front of him by the man who had infiltrated George's thoughts so much.

"You okay? You seemed pretty zoned out." Dream smirked, and George could feel the heat of embarrassment rush to his face. He was quick to grab his fork though, brush it off like nothing happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired I guess."

Dream took his seat beside of George, beginning to eat his own food without saying anything else to the brunet. George pulled down his shirt, thankful it was one of his longer tee's.

Unfortunately for George, with sinful thoughts comes a consequence. And he had to sit where he was, eat the breakfast Dream had made them, with his cock pathetically hard in his sweats.

The thoughts didn't stop there. George wished they would've, but they didn't. Every time Dream would move his arm to get more food on his fork or pick up his toast, the veins in his arms would move too. Every time he went to grab his glass of water, George would watch the way his hand wrapped around the clear container.

He wished that hand was around his throat. He wished that hand was somewhere on him. He wished—

"Are you done with your plate?"

Again, George was dragged from his thoughts (and rightfully so).

"Uh- yeah." George was quick to hand Dream his empty plate, the blonde moving from his seat to the kitchen sink to begin washing dishes.

If George hadn't literally had a boner right then and there, he would've volunteered to wash the dishes.

George watched miserably as Dream washed the dishes. George still had a reason to be in the kitchen, he still had half a glass of water. So he took that as an excuse to watch Dream's muscles contract and bulge while he cleaned up.

George finally had enough courage to get up and walk back to his room after finishing his water. His mind still ran a million miles per hour, and there was only one way to fix his little problem.

-

A little spice for you because I feel generous.

It took me three fucking days to write this. Why? Bc I kept getting distracted.

Anyway, vote pls. Also thanks for 200 reads :,)

<3