Loud, obnoxious beeping slowly came into focus. Blinking hard, Dream forced his drooping eyes open and reached over to turn off the irritating alarm on his phone. He swept his hand from side to side, but when it made contact with his phone, the device fell onto the floor, still blaring that piercing sound.
The clatter of his mobile hitting the ground forced Dream to sit upright, and he stretched his arms out as he let out a long yawn. As his thoughts started arriving, Dream realised he hadn't had the dream last night. Or at least he didn't remember having it, and he couldn't feel the remainders of George's whispers dancing around in his ears like he had yesterday.
That reminded him. He was going to see George today, he had to go pick him up in a few hours. The thought of it sent rockets spiralling through his mind, but he ignored that. Not today, he told himself, he wouldn't let this ridiculous tornado of emotions continue. He had set his alarm to 9:00 am to make sure he had time to get ready. Reaching over the side of his bed, he scrabbled for his phone, eventually pulling it up successfully and putting an end to the monotone of beeping.
What should he wear? He didn't want to look too casual, since they were going to a restaurant, but he didn't want to appear too formal either. Why was he so worried about this? It was just George, who he'd been friends with for years, so why was he now anxious to look good for him?
Eventually, he settled on jeans and a button up shirt. Satisfied by this look, he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed downstairs. Patches rubbed against his leg, looking up at him and mewling pathetically.
"Silly cat," Dream muttered, reaching down to stroke her soft fur.
After Dream has fed Patches, and given the bottom floor of the house a quick vacuum in the spare hour he turned out to have had, it was time for him to go if he wanted to be on time to collect George. He slipped on his trainers, and grabbed his keys from the shelf near the door. Waving goodbye to Patches, he strode out and locked up behind him. He climbed into the car, and sat there for a second. Then he took a deep breath and turned his keys in the ignition.
Another thing a spark can do.
The car started up, and Dream pulled out of the driveway. Memories of George were flashing through his mind as he navigated the busy roads, but they were different somehow. What had been nights out with all his friends now seemed to centre around George, the way he smiled, the way he laughed, the way his eyes would catch Dream's and pass unspoken messaged between the two of them.
No, no, no, no, no. Dream was starting to understand what emotion had been pulsing through his body every second for the past few days. Maybe-
No. George was his friend. This was all wrong, all so so wrong. Nope, it was just stress, he was too tired to think properly. This wasn't him. It couldn't be. No.
Caught up in these thoughts, Dream hadn't even realised how far he'd driven, and almost missed the turn to George's house. He slammed the breaks on, hastily turning the steering wheel while an assault of honks bombarded him from behind. He flipped his indicator on, far too late as he was already turning onto George's road at this point. He needed to get whatever this was out of his head.
He pulled up slowly in front of George's house, and was stepping out of the car to ring the doorbell when the front door opened and George stepped out. Dream stopped in his tracks. The familiar smile of his minecraft character grinned back at him from George's hoodie that Dream had sent him ages ago now. He'd never really noticed this before, but the way it hung off George's slender form, and the sleeves fell way past those small, delicate hands...
"You look-" Cute. Adorable. Perfect. Like you're mine.
What the fuck, Dream?
"...nice," Dream finished lamely.
George's face had been still until that moment, but then it widened into a thrilled grin. Dream couldn't help but return the smile, it was almost contagious. Something inside Dream shattered at the sight of George's rose lips lifting up, and the smile lines on his face forming that made Dream want to trace them with his fingers.
"You look great, too. Nice shirt," George giggled.
"Shut up, we're going to a restaurant, at least I made an effort for you," Dream retorted, but he was laughing as well.
For you.
Why the fuck did he add those two words?
He glanced at George's face anxiously, ashamed that he'd let that confession slip out, to see what his reaction would be. Maybe it was just the heat, or Dream's imagination, but he could have sworn George was... blushing. There was a hue of pink, just a dash, running through the cheeks that Dream imagined would fit so perfectly in his hands.
Have you got colour in your cheeks?
The lyric jumped into Dream's mind. He made a mental note to listen to that song once he got home. George reminded him of it, for some reason.
Dream climbed back into the car, and George walked round to the passenger's seat. As he got in, Dream couldn't help but smile to himself at George's closeness. From this distance, he could reach over and put his hand on George's thigh if he wanted to. He started the car, and they started driving.
-----------------
By the time they got to the restaurant, Dream was practically glowing. They hadn't talked that much on the short journey, but George's aura alone was enough to seep into Dream's soul and fill it with warm light. Dream jumped out of the vehicle, and practically skipped round the car to open George's door for him. Offering his arm to George in a joking manner, they walked in like a married couple, and something about that sent the butterflies in Dream's stomach into absolute chaos. The feeling of George's small, tender arm wrapped inside his own, the closeness of those smooth mahogany locks. George was quite a bit shorter than Dream. He imagined holding George against him, how his head would fit under Dream's chin.
They walked in and found their table. Dream unhooked his arm from George's as they entered, and already his body was weeping at the loss, longing for the explosions that George's skin has made against his own. They sat opposite each other at the table, so it really was like a date.
Picking up the menu, Dream started listing off the slightly ridiculous sounding options. George's eyes were shining, and an elegant, gentle laugh escaped his mouth. He quickly shut up as a waiter walked past, but his eyes held contact with Dream's. Those safe, copper eyes that captivated Dream's soul completely. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to while under that enchanting gaze.
----------------
"You know, despite the fancy names and ridiculous price, the food was actually quite shit," George stated, giggles erupting from his gentle mouth.
"I had fun with you, but yeah the food was awful," Dream agreed, chuckling. He glanced over at George, who was tracing his finger along the window. Dream's gaze slipped down to his-
No! What the fuck, Dream? This was too far.
George turned around, and Dream quickly looked back at the road. He wondered if George ever felt like this, if their eye contact sent fire through his body like it did to Dream.
Flicking his indicator on, Dream pulled into George's road, and reversed into the driveway. George went to undo his seatbelt just as Dream grabbed the hand break. Their hands collided for a split second, and in that moment, Dream felt a shot of electricity pass from George's fingers to his own. He jerked back instinctively, the warm feeling that had spread through his body at the feeling of George's soft skin leaving just as fast as it has arrived.
George looked up and straight into Dream's eyes, and for a second he was caught in freefall, for a second he thought George could see deep into his soul, past the jokes and banter and to the raw passion coursing through his veins. This intense eye contact seemed to last for an eternity, Dream's lips slightly parted and his eyes wide, George looking with a slight confusion that was Dream found strangely adorable.
In that moment, Dream wanted more than ever to lean across that gap between them. Grab George's shirt with one hand and cradle his face with the other. Feel George's perfect cherry lips against his.
There was no denying it anymore. Dream had fallen hard. And he had no idea how to begin climbing out. He didn't even know if he wanted to.
Dream forced a laugh, ending the moment, jolting himself out of this daze. He looked away, breaking the eye contact, but the damage had already been done. The spark had already been lit, and there was no way of putting it out.
George climbed out of the car. Dream followed, walking round to say goodbye to his friend. He wanted, he needed, more of George. He could never get enough. He wanted to feel George's touch one more time today. Just one more.
He opened his arms for a hug, and George walked up to him and wrapped his arms around Dream's waist.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.
Dream was on fire. Every part of him burnt under George's touch. Holding the smaller boy in his arms was like nothing he'd ever experienced. Divine torture. *Oh shit*
He quickly pulled away, hoping to death that George hadn't felt the hard thing in Dream's pants against his leg. Darting behind his car, he quickly called "Well, bye George! See you later!" before slipping back into the car seat and slamming the door.
FUCK.
He pulled out of the driveway, watching George's flushed and very confused face disappear from sight as he drove away.
Ok, what the fuck was that?
What just happened?
It all happened so fast, in a matter of minutes. He couldn't get that expression out of his head for the whole drive back home. George's worried eyes, the way he was slightly biting his lip. How could Dream have just left him there? After that? He wondered if George had felt it too. That undeniable pull between them, how their bodies fit together so perfectly.
This was too much, far too much.
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
Dream replayed that day over and over as he pulled into his driveway and then stumbled into his house. Every word, every second of George.
Too much, yet still not enough for Dream.
He spent the rest of the afternoon overthinking everything that had happened. That last interaction, the feeling of George's body, the look on his face.
Dream lay on his bed, the memory of George still tracing his body, still enough to make him hard. He wrapped his hand around his dick, imagining if George was there.
Imagining George sitting between his legs, hands on his thighs, those soft lips tight around his cock. He would grap George by the hair, push his head up and down. He imagined George's gentle eyes looking up at him, innocent as he pushed his dick down George's throat.
He moved his hand up and down as he played out this scenario in his head.
He imagined cumming down George's throat. Pulling out and painting George's face with it. He imagined George's tongue hanging out, covered in his white sticky cum.
Dream's body tensed, and he moaned as he came. He lay there for a few seconds, out of breath.
Oh George, he thought to himself, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?
