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

when your legs give in (and your lungs give out)

Being considered Dream’s was a lot of change for George. He was used to being able to play cat and mouse with those who caught his eye at the bar, coy looks and lingering touches that both parties knew hinted to something more, playing in a battle of wills until one finally made the first move. Dream didn’t play the games. He wasn’t boring, he absolutely blew George’s mind whenever they fucked, but it was different.

“Something you wanna say, baby?” Dream had asked, hand coming down harshly on the table as George attempted to swipe a sip of whatever it was the younger was drinking.

The Brit hummed, licking his lips as he replied, “Mm, not yet.” His brown eyes sharp as he tried to plan how to win the unspoken contest. Dream had offered to buy him a drink, to be fair, and he had declined- but he wanted it now , and the one across the table was the easiest to grab.

George simply avoided eye contact when the blond raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re sure you don’t want to tell me anything?”

For example, instead of dressing up in tight jeans that accentuated his ass and a soft t-shirt that complimented his hair, George was in the bathroom of Dream’s apartment. He was experimenting with drugstore makeup, nothing particularly noticeable, but that would be obvious. Something that should, if he did it right, should enhance the fucked out look that Dream so often mocks him for. Black mascara adorned on his eyelashes (specifically not waterproof), a lightly tinted lip gloss making his lips just slightly more pink, and a peachy blush. The last step of the look was eyeliner, and when asking Minx, he had been informed that the ‘waterline was a bitch to apply’ as a beginner. Hence why he was still in the bathroom, he kept blinking.

George wet his lips with his tongue, feigning a pout as he looked at Dream through his eyelashes. “Can I please have some of your drink?”

The blond laughed, “No, I don’t think so babe. You tried to steal it before using your words, and I already offered. Should’ve thought ahead, huh?”

“I wasn’t thirsty when you offered!” He defended, his voice bordering between exasperated and whiny. When Dream just took a sip from his glass, somehow still looking smug, George thought up a plan, “I used to do this so often that it was basically a job, Dreamy,” he sang his partner’s name. “I’m sure I could get someone to buy me a rum and coke, since you’re so cruel.”

“What?” The blond coughed, swallowing the wrong way. He wheezed between his coughing, “George, you wouldn’t.”

His smile was sharp, “I will.”

Just as the pencil was about to touch the edge of his eyelid, George jumped. A buzz came alight from his ass, causing a wonton moan. “Dream! I- ah - it’ll be up… up to you to pay for surgery if you make me po--ke my eye out!”

With the threat came a bark of hearty laughter from the adjoined bedroom, and the vibrator was turned down several levels. That was another change- George rarely used toys with the random men he would hook up with, it was too much control. Dream found taking apart his partner without so much as touching them to be a huge turn on, though, and there was enough mutual trust that the brunet was fine to try it. Turns out it is really hot for the receiving party as well.

The chair George had been sat on screeched as he stood up, though the music around them certainly drowned it out. Dream watched slack-jawed as George sauntered away, a flame lit in his eyes that couldn’t be detected with the untrained eye.

Some looks lingered, raising heat in Dream and George’s guts alike, one in jealousy, one in- anticipation? Huh…

Green eyes followed the curve of George’s body as he bent over far more than necessary while chatting up some buzzcut dude-bro with a shirt a few sizes too small- a move Dream recognized, one he did himself, to make his muscles appear bigger, and draw attention to even the most subtle of flexing.