someone to mess with | dreamnotfound smut

ch. 8

"Say please," George murmured, leaning away from the connection between his lips and Dream's, eyes cast up in a way that made the other shudder at such a heavy weighted glance.

But, what gave Dream pause, was how they were still far yet from the point where George would encourage Dream to say such words, them being in the early stages of light kissing and clothes still so firmly, sorely on. Besides the bedroom lights being set dim and low, George had hardly let Dream get close.

"Maybe I'll see you later tonight," George had beckoned earlier this evening, something sly in his words and his haughty upturned mouth, always up to something.

And, as was an often occurrence, Dream was confused by what George intended, the other usually doing this, being vague and purposefully misleading.

Though, in this instance, maybe Dream should have known what George was implying, but he was too focused on their previously made plans.

"Aren't we..? Are we still having dinner?" Dream had asked in hesitancy, unaware that George might have changed his mind, narrowed on the maybe. Hoping this instance of them sharing time together wouldn't fall apart so easily.

George had let out a breathless laugh, and replied, "I'm talking about after."

"Oh," Dream had stupidly responded, wracking his brain to no avail on whether or not they were supposed to do something after, coming up with nothing and having to ask, "And what, exactly, will that be?"

With a huff that was still humored and less of the annoyance George attempted to put into it, "I'm saying you can come to my room tonight. Is it a bad time for you or something?"

"No," Dream had immediately answered, relief in his voice that he didn't miss anything, even if he did just bypass all the hints the other dropped right into the palm of his hand, "It's never a bad time."

"Right," George had hummed, leaning up on his toes to taunt, "I might even let you do something."

Dream had tilted his head to the side, knowing the other was encroaching for him to press, "If?"

"If," George had grinned wide, pleased the other was now on the same page as him, "If you're good. If the food you make me is good, which, if we're being honest here, that's probably the most important."

"And, if the food happens to be take-out.. then what?"

George had rolled his eyes, snapping back as he made his way away from Dream and off to whatever he does in his free time, "Then, I don't know, I'll suck your dick."

Dream had froze, swallowing down the knowledge the other wasn't being genuine but internally cursing himself for not ordering in just for the chance to get George to stick to his word.

What he didn't know then, as Dream cooked their little meal so he could get fucked later, was that there would be, in fact, some dick sucking happening.

Not to him, of course.

"Say please," George insisted again, waiting until the other completed such actions he requested before moving on. Even if it wasn't evident why. Even if it wasn't for the usual reasons.

Like George pushing Dream to beg to finish or touch himself or touch George or open his eyes or go again or really anything George could possibly think of.

This was just another plea he desired to pull from Dream.

"For what?" the other asked softly, not much in defiance but more in order to actually know what was going to follow.