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

office hours

Dream doesn’t exactly hate his job, but he isn’t particularly fond of it. It’s a boring 9-5 at a typical office building. The coworkers are nice, the interns and assistants more often than not get in the way and managing one floor of the office is hardly a challenge. Not everything is bad all the time, but it definitely does get repetitive some days.

Only a few things are able to spice up his routine, and even then they hardly happen. Like maybe it’s someone's birthday and he gets to freak out his employees by making them come to his office only for them to write a note on a card. Or someone accidentally leaves the coffee maker on for too long and the smell of burnt beans lingers on the floor for the week. Or he gets another arrogant dickhead fired for harassment and everyone watches his well deserved walk of shame to the elevator with a box of his belongings like you see in the movies.

Things eventually feel the same. Days merge together and he sometimes loses his sense of day and night cycles. He’s fallen asleep at his desk once or twice and didn’t even react when he woke up with a headache the next morning. The janitors just worked around him apparently.

Either way, Dream had little to entertain him during his work week. The same 5 button ups and 3 types of slacks hugging his body every day. The same dress shoes that have lost their feeling of newness. The same 4 pairs of patterned socks that he looks at sometimes when he wears the slacks that are a little too short for his legs. He's not unhappy. He's just… bored.

Most of the time, that is.

His assistant, who used to be an intern for the building, is the only thing that makes the dull colored walls seem more vibrant. He has a calming demeanor, a soothing voice and he definitely helps keep Dream grounded more than he finishes paperwork.

George. George, George, George. He catches his mind wandering to that name every time he spaces out. He doesn’t even care. All he thinks about when George is on his mind are all the lunch breaks they spend in his office or in the storage closet across the room.

Dream isn’t entirely sure how they got to this point. With them eagerly kicking off their shoes, tugging so hard at their shirts that the buttons threaten to snap off the threads, using their neck ties in more ways than one. All the while a busy workplace buzzes just outside Dream’s office door. The thrill and risk of getting caught excites them both. And they never stopped since the first time they acted on their feelings.

It’s an addiction, really. Dream can never seem to get enough of George. George in all his glory. George and his fluffy, brown hair that he loves to tug a little too hard on. George and his smartass mouth, begging to be taught a lesson. George and his delicate body that’s always itching to be pressed against him.

He may or may not have given him the assistant position solely for this purpose. But he is the boss. And none of his higher ups care enough to monitor him anyway.

So when Dream locks his office door whilst shoving George inside, who’s already bouncing with excitement, he doesn’t have any fear. He throws his shirt across the room before he can get more than three buttons undone and he’s already caging George in against his desk. The way he can engulf the man’s body without even trying makes him all the more impatient. And when he grabs his hips to keep him in place, a small squeak comes from George’s mouth and his face flushes.

“In a rush?” George asks with a stupid grin. His cold fingertips crawl up his exposed chest, lightly tracing his collarbones up to his neck.

“A bit. I have a meeting in an hour. Strip and wet my dick for me,” Dream demands, his tone stern and voice raspy in George’s ear, just enough to make him shiver. He always gets a kick out of seeing the man unravel in his grasp.