Dont read this, this is just for stories i want read

Doe eyes

“What do you mean you've never done it?”

His companion for the night– Dream –mocked with the golden laced laugh he's gotten so familiar with over the past few days, walking in the door with a crinkle to his eye.

The two men had met up at various different places, gone on small get-togethers and these niche little dates. He himself has never been this date-kinda-guy, brown cocoa eyes rather luring his preys in – coxing delicate people to bed, a quick fix to get his dick wet.

Now, however, this boy who looks like the human embodiment of a puppy stand before him. Dream had walked up to him at a bar some weeks ago, and rather than sleeping with the blond, they talked.

And he didn’t do talking.

But rose flushed cheeks dotted with freckles and strawberry hues, jade irises glinting with admiration had George saying yes.

The agreement was out of pure lust, and he knows it's reciprocated ten-fold back. Hungry gazes and wandering eyes, not paying attention to anything else except the other person's body.

George made a habit out of watching the expanse of bronzed skin whenever it got presented, like a greedy cat waiting for its owner to come home with food. Stealing glances at the man's sun-kissed torso when his shirt would ride teasingly up. Observing tan hands flexing – tendons and veins protruding grabbing a hold of the remote control. 

It drove him insane.

George would have gotten his cock sucked already if it wasn't for the blond's gag of taking it slow. He’s sure the other loved teasing – to play this sexually frustrating mind game. Dream wasn't out after falling in love or tying George down with a ring, it was all this little back-and-forth of who would break first.

It drove Dream insane too.

Lustful eyes linger on George's legs when he opens the door– every time without fail –wearing simple boring boxers and an oversized hoodie. Jade burns holes in his backside when he bends down to pick something irrelevant up. Dainty hands running up the expanse of his own milky thigh daringly – up to rest on his stomach under his hoodie – while laying opposite of Dream on the couch, exposing a slither of a softly toned abdomen, bulge and ass in perfect view in those skin-tight boxers. Making the man look at George splaying himself out, rather than the boring television.

He could appreciate it in a way.

Their faux conversations pretending they didn't want to rip the other to shreds, made them actually get to know each other – got to know what the other liked , how their mannerisms were.

So the lonely nights jerking off would all be worth it. Or, it would when that fire of tension between them flares up, getting to fuck the man whose name would dripp of his tongue while making a mess of himself under silken sheets. The sex is always better with people you know, and he knew that.

And that's exactly what happened.

“Idiot,” George huffed, ripping his hoodie off, bedroom door falling shut with a gush of air hitting him, “Trust me, I fucked my fair share, just never been fucked.” Cocoa in George’s eyes melting off to chocolate and mixing seductively with jade when he caught the eyes of the blond again – irises glinting with lust, basking in a speckle of desperation, the desperation of finally getting to feel the other fully.