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“How’s this?” George murmured against sweat-slick skin, lips ticklish as they brushed the uneven splotches of color littered across Dream’s thighs. The blonde shivered at just the sensation of warm breaths on him, visibly squirming when pretty lips sucked marks into his sensitive thighs. George never wasted a moment when it came to appreciating the little noises that flowed from Dream when he’d bite down, teeth pulling at tan skin lightly. “So nice under me, such a cute thing. My perfect slut, isn’t that right?” Dream breathed out a wordless appreciation for George’s comments, legs shaking where they lay on George’s thin shoulders. The hands holding him there squeezed gently at the muscled thighs, fat pleasantly jiggling where George gripped harder than necessary and left indents.
Dream nearly convulsed when George finally made it to the apex of his spread legs, licking broadly across the wet skin without any verbal warning for Dream. Dream could have cried at the sudden stimulation, every part of him sensitive and starved of another’s touch since his escape from the prison. He whined high in the back of his throat, back arching and eyelids fluttering at such a simple action.
The hands on his thighs shifted to under his knees and Dream felt his hips raise off the bed, leaving George with better access. His muscles burned with the stretch of George parting his legs far more than they should’ve been able to, skin reddening at the new vulnerable and exposed position. His cock jumped minutely at the humiliation of it all, pretty and seeming to flush like the rest of him. Dream flung a forearm over his face in embarrassment when George fucking cooed at it and its size, mind unable to decide whether to call it degradation or praise. George’s own growth had been larger than his, since he’d started his own hormones earlier, and size difference there contrasting to their heights never failed to arouse him.
Though Dream wasn’t much better, really. Some part of him enjoyed how small he looked, how small he felt when George pressed them together and the brunette’s seemed to dwarf his own.
George leaned forward while he moved his hands, again, to grip closer to his hips. He didn’t miss how Dream clenched around nothing when he licked his lips, staring hungrily at the slick skin. The brunette dove in without any warning yet again, tonguing his way through parted skin and licking cautiously around his entrance without ever going in. His nose bumped carefully against Dream’s cock, nudging it until Dream was writhing at the stimulation that was so close but just short of being enough. His hands twitched where he kept them obediently up above his head, hips bucking closer to George’s mouth in the hopes of getting something.
He felt teeth scraping against him, tongue quickly scooping up any wetness that left him. George ate him like a starving man, always so eager while he ate up anything Dream’s body could give him. George was messy, so unlike the calculated movements of his deft fingers and controlled motions of his hips. A guttural groan left the blonde when George’s tongue dipped inside the barest amount, poking the flesh without ever really breaching him. It was all an erratic routine of sloppy but practiced patterns of his tongue and the threat of painful but pleasant nips. It drove Dream crazy, the contrast between when he aimed to please Dream and when George just took and took for himself.
The blonde keened high and loud when George fucking inhaled, groaning faintly at the smell of his lover. It seemed so perverse, the elder getting off on not just eating out Dream but the scent of him too. His thighs twitched and tried to close around George’s head, more turned on by his boyfriend’s antics than he’d like to admit. He was lucky enough that George didn’t punish him for the obvious involuntary disobedience so it came as a surprise when he felt the folds of flesh around his entrance were parted by George’s fingers, their place immediately taken by a dexterous pink muscle.
He couldn’t do much about it when George sniffed him again aside from twitching at the sudden assault on his insides. The brunette was good at what he did, good at pressing his tongue to squishy walls and driving Dream up the fucking wall. He was hyper-aware of the texture of George’s tongue and still-wet blunt nails digging into plush thighs and the slight burn when George hitched his hips up higher. Every sense was on overdrive and he fucking thrashed with a hand snaked its way up to squeeze lightly at his cock. It was pinched between a forefinger and a thumb, the head held in their grasp, and Dream couldn’t help but flip the hell out.
The pain was so unbearably good, like liquid fire thrumming through his veins and burning him from the inside out. George rolled it between his fingers and Dream lost it, bucking and squirming wildly all while managing to keep his hands carefully held together above his head. George worked him all the way through his orgasm, managed to keep his hands on him even as the blonde thrashed. He changed position to take the sub’s cock into his mouth, licking at it relentlessly and reveling in how Dream squirmed in overstimulation as George ran his tongue over the flesh.
He eventually shifted away when Dream had started moving enough that he was unintentionally kicking George’s back, contorting in pain-induced pleasure that just barely danced the line between the two. Hot tears lined tracks of hastily drawn and smudged eyeliner, drawing dark streaks down the sides of his face. Dream’s breathing was heavy while George breathed on him, just inches away and watching, amused, as the younger’s cock jumped just the slightest bit at every well-placed breath.
The man giggled at the squirm he got when he leaned forward to place a light kiss on it, Dream whining at the stimulation. “Sorry love,” George mumbled, turning to press his face into a muscular thigh. His eyes gazed up at the other, brown and blue blinking up rather unapologetically and completely matching the unsubtle smirk against his skin. “How are you feeling? Still good to go?”
Brushing damp hair away from George’s forehead, Dream nodded. “Please.”
“Please what, puppy?” came the clipped reply, eyebrow raised as he fell back into his role. “I thought I trained you to be more specific, didn’t I?”
Dream felt trapped. Even with George between his legs, even as his thighs tried to twitch closed in a sudden bout of shyness, the brunette’s steely gaze never broke. “P...please, sir, I want to keep going.” His bottom lip just barely jutted out, Dream pouting just the slightest bit while damp eyelashes blinked down at George. All he got was the further raise of George’s cocked eyebrow, beckoning him silently to carry on. “Want to make you feel good. Wanna help, wanna be good. Please, sir! Gotta have you, please!”
“Good boy,” George whispered, praise warming and turning Dream’s insides fuzzy, butterflies going rabid inside his stomach. It was good, the simple words nearly drove him insane even more than when George’s preferred strap was inside him. Key word: almost. Despite his want to be praised more for painstaking patience, Dream couldn’t resist the urge to squirm and very unsubtly grind against whatever he could, which was thankfully a clothed thigh while George sat up to grab lube from their nightstand.
He didn’t at all mind the light slap to his inner thigh at the desperate movement, minded the harsher one that served as a final warning even less. Though, he was sure George didn’t feel the same way when a carefully placed slap came down on his growth and the blonde gave an unabashed moan.
A hand, filthy and streaked with his own wetness, came to grip Dream's jaw and force green eyes to stare at George’s steeled expression. His own gaze was narrowed and his mouth twitched in a scowl, lip curled in mock disgust. “Forgot you’re a little pain slut. You get off on this, don’t you sweetheart? Get off on literally anything I’d give you, whether it’s my cock or a punishment.” The elder quickly wiped his fingers across Dream’s face, leaving a wet trail atop a pretty blush.
Dream didn’t bother to answer, not when every noise out of him turned into a moan as George landed three more slaps in quick succession. They were light enough to avoid any real damage, of course, but just able to ignite a brief white-hot flame to dance the border between pain and whatever feeling left Dream with his mouth agape and thighs twitching in the air. The blonde whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, of cold air instead of a warm hand or mouth while George got up to fish his strap-on from the box under their bed.
His legs stayed splayed open across their pale bedsheets, hips suspended in the air as if he was getting off on as little as cool breezes from their ventilation. Though that wouldn’t surprise George, in all honesty; it’d been a while since George was able to fully indulge Dream, a long time since they’d last been unoccupied enough to get lost in one another for what could easily turn into hours at a time. It wasn’t as if a refractory period (and overstimulation, at least in Dream’s case) were a major restriction.
Dream snapped back to reality with a warm hand on his hip, pressing him into the bed with a strength that was strangely suitable to George by now. He couldn’t help the way his hips struggled when the brunette drew a line down the smooth plane of his pelvis, drawing circles into sharp bones with his thumb. “Stay down, pretty boy. I know you know better, keep your ass on the bed.” He gripped hard enough for the skin to redden in the areas surrounding where his fingers pressed down, sure to leave pretty purple marks by the time morning came. “I can’t even prep you properly if you keep moving.”
Against his better judgment, the blonde gave his best attempt at a scowl despite the carmine red that lit his face aflame. “Y-you’re being,” Dream’s words broke with a yelped moan as George plunged a finger straight into him, “ fuck !” He whined out loudly when George prodded at his insides, curling and uncurling and nonchalantly exploring like he hadn’t touched him hundreds of times before. Dream heaved a stuttered breath, squeezing his eyes tightly and letting his voice morph into a high mewl.
“I’m being what? Can’t even finish your words, can you?” He brought his free hand to press down harshly on the tip of Dream’s growth, ignoring the wetness between his own legs in favor of leaning down to lick at the pretty sheen of liquid between Dream’s. The blonde whined in protest, embarrassed at the evidence of how aroused he’d become and even more so by the idea of him on George’s tongue. “Do I just turn you stupid, puppy? You’re always so desperate for me, I wouldn’t be surprised. Fucking rutting on my thigh, on my jeans of all things, because you want to feel me so badly. Isn’t that right?”
In a burst of boldness, the younger huffs a loud, overexaggerated sigh despite the way his breath caught in his throat when George crooked his index finger inside. “I w-wouldn’t have to if yo-you just, ah , moved faster.” The reaction was immediate, the thumb on his cock pressed down harder, hard enough for Dream to flail and try to squirm away from the pressure. He didn’t want to quit though, didn’t want to admit defeat from just a little (or a lot of) pain. “You’re b-being so f-fuck, oh god , fucking fussy. Bossy and m-mean and so cruel, when all I’ve been is good for you, sir.”
And then suddenly there was no more pressure on his lower half, no more warm tongue flicking around the edges of his hole. George’s slender finger was gone too, skin burning with arousal so painfully heated against the cold air. Even the hand on his hip was gone, fingers replaced by little white marks that slowly faded to the same blood heavy pink as the rest of him. Dream wailed at the lack of it, more tears joining the puddle of wetness on the sides of his face as he shed a pretty tear or two, eyebrows twitching downward in an attempt to look angry.
“What the fuck,” he sniffled, giving an aborted hiccup.
George sat back on his heels, making sure no part of him was even remotely touching the younger. He didn’t bother with a verbal answer, simply cocking an eyebrow and capping the bottle of lube. Dream watched him move with panicked franticness, eyes wide as George made to put it away.
Dream felt boneless, unable to truly move but he nudged George with one of his legs, craning his head up to stare at the other. “Wh-what are you doing?”
The raven just stares at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing. “You said I’m being cruel, right?”
He gulped. The elder’s tone was cold, uncaring and distant as he backed away, separated himself entirely. Dream whined, high and loud in the back of his threat despite his efforts to stay quiet, squirming minutely before propping himself up on his elbows. “Georgie,” Dream mumbled hesitantly, gently tugging on the hem of George’s shirt, “Georgie, please.”
The older’s eyebrows twitch downwards, expression steeling. “Who?” He frowned. “I’m not ‘Georgie’ to you. Get it right, whore.”
Dream scowled. Feeling bold, he pulled a little harder, though immediately regretted it when George smacked his hand away. “Please, don’t––don’t just leave me like this.” He just about throws a fit when George pays him no more attention than before, huffing angrily before borderline wailing. “Please, sir.”
“What, like you deserve it?”
Dream sniffles. “I’ll be good, I’ll behave, please,” he squirms, “it hurts.” And he isn’t wrong, he’s leaking profusely and his little dick twitches in search of some sort of stimulation. George doesn’t budge though, unamused as he raises an eyebrow doubtfully. The blonde just about whines.
“Why should I believe you? You say you’ll behave but you act like a little whore, an entitled little brat because you fucking like when I’m mean.” But the worst part is that George is right, the area between Dream’s legs is leaving a puddle of wetness on the sheets and he’s flushed all over, tan skin pink-stained as far as the eye can see. He’s red with desperation and arousal, so turned on by George’s refusal that he can’t even pretend to deny that he doesn’t like the thorny way George glowers at him. “You’re pathetic, getting off on this. Not that saying it will make anything change. No matter what I do, if I help you get off or leave you here high and not-so-dry, you’ll still squirm and beg to be fucked by the time we get out of bed.”
He can’t deny it, because God , George is right, so all he does is try not to press his thighs together in an attempt for friction while the smaller stares him down. “I’m sorry,” he tries eventually, voice meek and low as he looks up at George through teary eyes. He tries for his best puppy eyes, ignoring the scoff he gets because he can tell by the other’s pink cheeks that it’s working. “I’ll do anything, sir, please.”
“Anything?” Dream doesn’t dare to furrow his eyebrows in contemplation, just nods at George’s inquiry. “Let me sit on your face then.”
It takes Dream aback, just a bit, before he recollects himself. He nods despite knowing it’s unnecessary and George will do it anyway, breath catching in his throat out of pure anticipation. It’s rare for him to get to suck off George and his perfect dick, usually only used as a reward but Dream’s more than okay with the possibility of suffocating under his lover. No, alternatively, he wants it so badly. He wants pale thighs, prettily dotted with faded scars and sparse body hair, to trap him as he’s forced to drown under George. God, he wants so bad. “Please,” is all he can get out, a lowly whimper before George settles back over him, pushes him down onto the mattress with a hand to his chest.
The blonde has to strain to see George strip his jeans off, tries and fails not to get too aroused by the dark wet spot on his boxers. He licks his lips absentmindedly, eyes darkening with lust at the idea of getting to get his mouth on George. The brunette settles over him soon enough, crawls his way up and over Dream until he’s positioned over Dream’s readily open mouth. George nearly laughs at the picture, smirking at the pink tongue lolling out of his mouth and glistening with drool. He’s able to look at Dream’s eyes as he hovers just over his mouth, close enough to touch if he gave the blonde permission. A hand wraps easily in the blonde hair, running through the blonde curls before pulling him up just a bit, just until Dream’s nose is millimeters away from his cock and undoubtedly hurting his neck. “Go,” he says simply, grinding down onto the wet mouth.
Dream goes to town immediately, knowing that the masochist in George wouldn’t mind the slight initial overstimulation. He slobbers over the skin, licking up every drop of George’s taste that he can. He pants into it, acts like a fucking dog in all his desparation to get as much as he can before it’s taken away. His jaw already aches from how he has to somewhat cradle George’s bits in his mouth but he doesn’t mind it. He’s rather satisfied, really, by how much he’ll be in pain later and how long he can be spontaneously reminded of George sitting pretty above him.
George doesn’t let him go on for too long, knowing that it’s even more of a reward to Dream than to him, but he pretends not to hear the needy noise that slips through when he detaches himself from Dream’s mouth. He takes pride in how Dream absentmindedly tries to follow though, how his expression clears up and looks sad without a dick in his mouth. It takes a lot of effort not to chuckle at him, to just swipe the remaining liquid around Dream’s mouth to let Dream lick it off his fingers and press an out-of-place tender kiss to his forehead.
“Color?” George whispers, noting the foggy, faraway look Dream gets when he tries not to throw another fit over having George’s cock snatched away. He can’t quite ignore the throbbing of his own lower half, moving one hand to cradle Dream’s jawline as the other rubs over himself in slow motions, just to tide him over.
Dream doesn’t miss a beat before replying, “Green.” His eyes water, tears glittering along his waterline as he stares up at his lover. The elder can’t help but lick his lips at the gorgeous flush along Dream’s cheeks, the way Dream’s eyes plead with him silently. “Please,” he begs needily, having had enough of the neglect to his own arousal.
“Patience, sweetheart,” is the nonchalant reply, accompanied by George grinding against his own fingers with a swivel of his hips, so agonizingly envy-worthy that Dream’s own cock twitches in ache for stimulation. It’s a relief when George takes a sticky hand away from himself, wipes the mess on Dream’s thigh before climbing off and returning with the lube and his strap. He doesn’t waste a moment in fastening it around his hips, adjusting it with one hand with practiced ease. The plastic dick attached bounces lightly as George experimentally thrusts into the air, blue material shining under the light of their cheap lamp. He stands at the edge of their bed, looking hungrily over Dream’s heaving form.
He strokes the fake cock once, twice before taking Dream by the legs and half-dragging the taller down the bed, wrinkling the sheets. A hand strokes down a freckled thigh before spreading them, admiring the view between his split legs. The brunette waits for just a moment before plunging two fingers in without any hesitation, staring with unabashed fascination as Dream takes it without so much as a complaint. It’s eased by the natural lubricant but he can still never get over the way Dream opens up so easily for him, how every bit of pain only turns him on more. He chews at his lower lip as he tests a third one, pokes around the rim of his entrance before adding it.
“ Haah ,” Dream moans out, “pl-pl’se sir. Want another.” George takes mercy on him, testing the spread of his three fingers before gently adding in the fourth. The blonde hisses in mild pain but it’s quickly followed by a choked moan, relishing the burn of it eight a shuddering breath.
The fingers are quickly withdrawn before Dream can even grind down on the new additions, George spreading them once to look at the webbing of sticky liquid before sucking them one by one into his mouth. His other hand grips the plastic dick attached to his hips and he eases himself in, watching Dream’s expression as the younger tenses at the intrusion before relaxing into it.
Thanks to the prep, it’s not long before George can fully bottom out with a low groan. He grinds forward into Dream’s hips, relishing in the light friction it provides against his own growth. Dream squirms when he’s unmoving for too long, prompting George to roll his hips more forcefully and then drawing out just a bit to slam back in.
“Sir,” Dream whines, trying to move suck his cock even deeper despite the death grip on his hips. George doesn’t tease for long, pulling out more and more on each thrust until Dream can’t help but moan loud enough for him to briefly worry about an incoming noise complaint. “Please, please, please,” the blonde chants mindlessly like a mantra, not even sure himself what he’s pleading for. All he can think of is the white hot pleasure building in his stomach, how badly he wants to toy with his neglected cock, and George panting above him as he gives up on the idea of teasing and just chases whatever minimal pleasure the strap-on can provide.
Without thinking, Dream digs into George’s back with his nails, clawing lines into the pale skin as he thrashed in overstimulation. His noises are loud in George’s ear, barely drowning out the brunette’s own loud whimpers as he strains for more of the friction that’s just short of enough. His face is painted deep red, blotchy and so endearingly familiar that Dream can’t help but find it the hottest thing in the world.
The blonde’s back arches harshly, head twisting with his mouth gaping due simply to not knowing what to do with all the pleasure twisting in his gut. One of George’s hands snakes down to slide across Dream’s dick, drawing a breathless moan. He mumbles something akin to begging for a kiss, veridian eyes stuck shut and eyebrows furrowed. George kisses away the salty tears gathering at the corners of his eyes before pressing a sloppy flurry of kisses all over Dream’s cheeks. He finally plants one on Dream’s lips, open-mouthed and messy and so far from a proper kiss that it pushes Dream over the edge.
The man seems to breathe a breathless scream as he practically curls in on George, freckled skin shifting with his muscles as all of him tenses at once. He falls apart all at once, collapsing boneless beneath the shorter with a content whine. He’s breathless as George fucks him through the orgasm, sliding across their sheets with every thrust. It takes a moment before Dream can string together a coherent thought, leaving him gently pushing at George’s lower body as he whines in overstimulation.
He draws out and fumbles with the strap-on as best he can, frustratingly pulling it off before he can manage to get a hand on himself. Through his post-orgasm exhaustion, Dream manages to mumble for George to use him, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and an open mouth. George all but crawls over him to grab Dream by the hair and force his tongue to his dick, grinding over the muscle in desperate motions.
“Shit, shit, shit, ” the brunette curses as he moves, hovering so close to the edge but still just fucking short. He lets go of one handful of blonde hair to hurriedly ease it into himself, ruthlessly dragging it against his walls and curling it until he arches and liquid drips into Dream’s awaiting mouth.
George drags himself off with an oof, wiping whatever’s left of his cum on Dream’s skin and lays on the cool sheets as he comes down.
“George,” Dream eventually whines, heaving an arm to rest over his eyes as his breath evens out. “I’m sticky.”
The brunette only waits a moment more before forcing himself up with a groan. “Big baby,” he huffs affectionately. “Don’t move, I’ll go get the washcloths.” He briefly leaves a kiss to Dream’s forehead before walking away, coming back a bit later to wipe down the younger with warm water.
Dream hums a thanks, nodding off several times before George finishes up. “Come lay down,” he frowns, grabbing onto the elder’s wrist and half-heartedly trying to drag him into bed. “Please?”
“ No, ” George scolds playfully, gently prying the hand off. “I need to shower, even if you’re gross and think getting wiped down is enough to be clean.”
The other rolls his eyes, rolling over onto his stomach. His voice comes out muffled by the bed as he replies, “You’re gonna come cuddle me anyway so showering is pointless.”
It’s enough to convince George, tired and already revolted by the idea of cleaning up the mess of clothes and sheets around their room. “Fine,” he agrees after a short moment, falling back onto the bed and rolling onto Dream obnoxiously. “Only because I’m tired.”
Dream giggles. “No, it’s because you love me.”
George can’t even deny it, not when he’s mindlessly tracing patterns into Dream’s skin and his reddening cheeks are pressed to his shoulder. “You get away with too much.”
“I know.”
- fin -