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

Mark Your Territory

“You’re such an idiot! Give it back!”

It was inevitable that once George moved in, he and Dream would bicker, argue, mess around, and tease, just as they did online for so many years. So the sight of George standing on top of the couch, remote control clutched in his hand and being waved around tauntingly, shouldn’t have been surprising at all. With jumping movements, making the couch shake beneath him, a wide grin stretched across his face, only adding to the clear evidence that he enjoyed toying with Dream this way.

“George, get down!” Dream exclaimed, amusement over the situation making itself known in the way his laughter threaded itself between his words. “George!”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it, Dreamington ?” The nickname made Dream roll his eyes before he stood up tall, head level with George’s chest, but still not high enough to grab the remote from highly raised arms.

“George,” Dream started. “Give me the control.” His voice was firm. Authoritative. That didn’t stop the loud proclaims of twisted enjoyment from falling out of widely spread lips though.

“Oh, you’d like control, wouldn’t you?” George joked, still not standing down from the challenge he’d initiated. Dream stepped closer, face stoic and unphased, before promptly grabbing George by the hips and lifting him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Dream!” George instantly started shrieking, surprised by the whole ordeal, and tried to wriggle free from the tight grasp around his thigh.

“I’m not putting you down until you drop the control,” Dream stated bluntly. He had all the patience in the world, and a surprising amount of strength for someone that didn’t often work out, so he was more than ready to grip onto his much more dainty and light friend for as long as it took for the other to cave and give up.

“Well, fine then.” George folded his arms the best that he could in his position. “Saves me walking anywhere. You’ll be like a living taxi,” he said with a pout. God, he was so stubborn sometimes . Of course the natural reaction was for Dream to grip onto both of George’s thighs harshly and jump up and down in an attempt to shake the smaller man. What else was he meant to do? George tried to clutch on for dear life as Dream caused him to thrash around as though on a rollercoaster, all while ecstatic shrieks of glee and fear escaped him, all tangled in a light hearted mess. Dream’s grasp on George’s thighs was firm , holding onto them as though if he were to let up even the slightest then George would simply slip away from him. Fingernails dug into his skin, applying pressure harshly, even through the cotton sweatpants that covered his legs, and something about the force sent a rush of something throughout George’s body, making him clench his free hand into a fist in an emotion that definitely wasn’t anger, but couldn’t quite be placed. His own fingers clawed at Dream’s back lightly, simply aiming to hold onto something for stabilization, finally settling on the t-shirt that coated Dream’s torso, all while the tight squeeze of hands much larger than his own began to elicit a sharp pain amongst the surface of skin of which was hidden. “Dream, you’re gonna bruise me,” George practically whined, earning a chuckle from the taller man grasping onto him for dear life.

“Oh, come on. I’m not holding you that hard.”

“Yeah, but I bruise really easily. I’m like a… Peach.” At that, Dream let out another laugh before finally putting his friend down onto slightly unbalanced footing. George handed the remote reluctantly, more as a thanks for putting him down rather than an admittance of loss.

What he hadn’t anticipated was for that one line of dialogue to stick in Dream’s mind like a taunt.

It wasn’t as though Dream didn’t think about George when alone; in fact, he thought about him more than he probably should, but one mention of his ability to bruise caused the blonde’s mind to get clouded in a flurry of thoughts surrounding that very idea. Being someone that didn’t bruise or scar often, very much requiring a lot of force in order for his skin to blossom in such hues, the prospect of George being the complete opposite ignited something within him, something which slightly frightened him to explore. After several days however, he gave into the thoughts and wonderings that echoed in his mind, and finally spoke them aloud to the man that had caused such questions to arise in the first place.