Talk Fast || DNF

Chapter 4

"We need to talk."

Dream is well aware that he sounds like a pissed-off boyfriend, but at this moment, that is honestly the last thing on his mind. The events of the party have gone unspoken between them and they've barely spoken to each other in the last two days and he is more than a little frustrated. They crossed a line and they both know it. So, he and George are finally home at the same time and they need to settle this.

"Talk about what?" George asks nonchalantly, dropping his bag onto the floor and hopping onto his bed casually. He scrolls through his phone like it's nothing and Dream thinks he wants to wring his throat.

"What do you mean talk about what? The party? Or are you experiencing amnesia?" Dream's voice is overly exasperated as he dances around the subject, plopping down into his desk chair and crossing his arms. His idiotic brain flashes back to the last time he was sat here with George in his lap. "We shouldn't have done that. This... this was just about kissing."

George shrugs, barely even glancing at him, "There was kissing involved."

The blond sighs at this, running an absentminded hand through his hair, tugging at the strands softly. His voice is quieter next time he speaks, his real fear poking through the dialogue, "I took advantage of you."

It really is his biggest fear going into this. After all, he is the one with an upper hand here being the only one out of the two with any actual experience not to mention George isn't even gay. The last thing he wants is to accidentally go too far and have George resent him for it. No matter what, they're supposed to be in this together and he feels like he's lost that.

"Is that seriously what you think? Why? Because I'm straight? It's not like we were drinking and we're two consenting adults. Why is this bothering you?" He scoffs, finally looking at Dream.

He leans back in the chair, his arms re-crossing as he shrugs half-heartedly. When he doesn't respond at first, George stands up. For a moment he thinks that history is going to repeat itself and that the brunet is going to slot himself onto Dream's lap, but instead, he puts a hand on the edge of the desk behind him. He uses his other hand to lift up the blond's chin so their eyes meet, "Dream, we never said it had to stop with kissing. I'm not complaining if you aren't."

With George leaning over him like this, Dream is but a man. He leans forward and presses his lips fiercely against George's, not bothering to explain it away with some offhand comment. The lesson is implied, Dream just wants to feel George's skin against him as soon as possible. George kisses him back eagerly, his hand leaving the desk as they instead move to cup Dream's face. He lets himself pull George onto his lap, the man gasping softly and opening up enough for Dream to slip his tongue past his lips. His skin is alight where George touches him, burning with every brush of skin-to-skin contact. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is overly aware of the downright dangerous territory to tread, but there isn't a care in his mind at the moment. His senses are overwhelmed with the feeling of George on top of him, bending to his beck and call. It's intoxicating.

"We're really," he attempts to get out in between the kisses from George, " bad at the talking part of this conversation."

George pulls back, his hands staying on Dream's shoulders as a coy smile plays at his face, "Is there more you wanted to say or can we fast forward to the part where I get you off?"

Dream has the distant thought that he's created a monster. Just a week ago, this man hadn't even kissed anyone, and look at them now: Sitting on each others' laps, hard in their jeans. "George, you know... you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right? I mean, if you really wanna continue to go in that direction, we can, I'm not complaining, but don't feel like you have to be someone you're not just because you think it'll make me happy. All of this is for you."