Deal with a Demon

seven

Apparently, Dream had taken too long staring at the display of weapons meant to kill him because George had found him minutes later.

The brunette had seen the wide array of weapons and started panicking. There was a lineup of whispered shouts going from what the fuck to why the fuck to becoming utterly speechless.

By the time Dream had pulled himself together, Alyssa was already calling out, asking where they had gone. George was still a lost cause, so Dream pulled him by the wrist and tugged them out of the bedroom and all the way to a very suspicious-looking Alyssa.

"George isn't feeling too good, so we'll be going now," he said with a confident tone, adding a wink at the end. "It was lovely meeting you."

Alyssa squinted her eyes and looked at George, who really did look sick, before placing a hand on his shoulder and sweetly saying, "I hope you feel better soon. Visit again when you can." The last sentence was said as she looked Dream straight in the eyes. He couldn't tell if it was a threat or a genuine comment.

There was no significant reason she would know about what Dream was, so Dream took a deep breath and left the house, beaming falsely at Alyssa while they went.

Once they were farther along the sidewalk, George finally spoke. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Well, clearly she's trying to murder a vampire with all that fancy equipment she has. I mean, honestly, does everyone think we can be killed with garlic?" Dream answered coolly.

"Isn't that a well-known vampire fact?" George asked, voice high.

Dream laughed, "Well apparently vampires also can't be out in the sun, according to those 'well-known facts' of yours."

"So garlic doesn't kill you?"

"All it does is weaken us. But it's pretty ineffective. A real vampire hunter would know that, so your sister isn't much of a threat to my kind."

"She's going to get herself killed," George groaned.

"Probably... but, hey, look on the bright side. Wooden stakes are actually what kills us, and holy water burns our skin quite a bit, so she's got those two parts right."

They had reached the apartment complex, so Dream led the way inside. Seeing the kitchen reminded him of the night before, which reminded him of why he had even been looking for a bathroom in the first place.

George had flopped down on the couch, face down into a plush pillow. Dream had to admit that even when angry, the brunette's ass still looked good.

"Hey George," he started, smacking the brunette's ass as he sat down, "Let's go to a club tonight."

George groaned and curled up further into the couch. "I'm tired."

"No, you're stressed. Take your mind off of your dumb sister and hang out with me. Besides, I'm letting you stay at my house, I think it's only fair that you do what I want."

"I'll go back to my own apartment then," he sighed, voice still muffled by a pillow.

"No you won't," Dream grinned.

There was a moment of silence while George shifted back up on the couch.

"Fine. But I need clothes."

Dream smiled and walked over to his closet in the blink of an eye, pulling out a much too short crop top and a way too tight pair of black jeans. They'd be bigger on George, and Dream would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to see.

The brunette opened his mouth to say something in retort, but before he could, Dream sang, "My house, my decision on what you wear."

"Fucking lunatic," George mumbled as he got up and walked to the bathroom. Dream put his hands behind his head and kicked his feet up, awaiting George's return.