A Smile With A Bite. DNF

Part Twelve

George walked into Dream's room with confidence, wearing only his boxers and Dream's hoodie. It was too big on him and hid his boxers from sight, making him look incredibly naked and vulnerable. Dream tore his eyes off his computer monitor and watched George crawl on to his bed. As George made himself comfy on Dream's comforters, Dream rested his elbows on his knees and stared at his best friend.

"What are you doing?" Dream asked, eyes narrowing.

George's eyes drifted away before they locked with Dream's again. He had to hold on to his confidence. He had it when he walked in, but with Dream's blue eyes glued to him, he was losing it.

"I think we should talk," George muttered.

Dream smirked and the charming expression made George's heart skip a beat. "Okay. We can talk, George. What is it you have to say?"

"Do you like guys?" George asked, ripping the bandage off.

Dream's smirk faltered as his eyes shifted off George. His hands began to fidget, and when that didn't calm him, he sat up and threw his hands behind his head. He was trying to appear as casual as possible but his mind was racing. Why was George asking him that? Because he kissed him? Why did he have to ask him that while half naked? It didn't feel like such an innocent question in this atmosphere.

"What does it matter?" Dream retorted.

George shrugged, pulling his sleeves over his hands. "I'm just wondering. You keep kissing me and you get turned on when I feed on you and—"

"So do you," Dream said, cocking an eyebrow. George's mouth hung open, mid-sentence, and he stiffly shut it again. "You get turned on feeding on me. Are you into guys?"

"That's neither here nor there, Dream," George argued, shaking his head of his nerves.

"Isn't it?" Dream asked. "You kiss me back, don't you? You don't fight me when I touch you."

George clenched his jaw, pulling even harder on his sleeves. He didn't want the conversation to go like this. This wasn't why he came in here.

"Dream, can we stay on track please?" Dream sighed, returning to his bent over position with his elbows on his knees. George didn't like that pose. It made his shoulders look broad and strong. "I want to make a deal with you."

Dream remained quiet, waiting for George to elaborate. He wasn't going to ask anymore questions because he didn't want to piss off George, but he was scared of where this was going. Part of him wanted to kick George out of his room before this got messy and weird. There was no good reason George was in here, asking intimate questions, barely dressed, and about to make a deal, after all.

"I need blood to live and you've become my number one, and only, volunteer. I also don't want to feed outside because I've almost died the last couple times. So basically, I need you," George explained. "And in return... I'll... help you."

Dream's eyebrows furrowed in confusion until realization hit and his jaw turned to stone. "George... you're not saying what I think you're saying, right?"

George sighed, his eyes finding the ceiling and searching for another dose of courage. "I know it sounds stupid and weird and whatever, but we've been playing this game over and over and I want to establish some rules."

"Rules?" Dream chuckled.

"Not rules, but you know.. I don't really get what's going on here and rules would certainly help," George said.

Dream shook his head. He was annoyed that George would claim he didn't know what was going on. The whole point of this game they were playing was that it wasn't a game at all. Dream liked kissing George. He liked touching him, he liked being fed on, he liked being closer to George than anyone else. It wasn't that hard to figure out, yet George was over here acting like Dream was a total mystery.