Inferno // dreamnotfound

t w o

TW : alcohol usage

As Dream pulled up to the bar, he quickly glanced around to see if Alex was there. He was chatting to a girl and already pretty tipsy. Dream covered his face as best he as could while he sat down in a lowly-lit area of the bar with the headshot on his phone. The man he was looking for wasn't there yet so he hastily ordered a diet coke from the bar.

When the man in the photo appeared at the door, Dream subverted his eyes and a fairly intoxicated man sunk into the stool next to him. He saluted to Dream with two fingers, eyes half-lidded. There was something so warm about this gesture. The man had fluffy dark hair and a smile able to destroy someone as well as one of his knives. "Whatcha drinking?" he slurred.

"Just a coke," Dream replied with a polite smile plastered on his face. 

It faltered slightly when the man said "Why are you in a bar then? You can drink coke at home."

"I don't have coke at home,"

"Well, duh, just get some,"

"Why are you in a bar, you can drink alcohol at home?"

"I don't have alcoho- touchè, touchè,"

"George," he stuck his hand out enthusiastically. Dream hesitantly shook it and replied "Clay," through gritted teeth. George frowned at him before beckoning to the nearest bartender and ordered himself another drink. Dream had to avert his eyes yet again casually because Mr Face-Tat came over to pour it out. George groaned and muttered, "I'll be right back." He rose from his seat and stumbled over to the men's room while Dream subconsciously placed his hand over the top of George's drink while he sipped his own.

Dream was looking at his watch when George came back. He flopped back down in a seemingly more dazed headspace than before. They drank in silence for a few minutes frequently flitting their eyes over each other. "You know... you're, like, really se-hic-xy," George hiccupped over his words as he eyed Dream slyly. George reached out to touch Dream's hand which he edged away. Dream cleared his throat. "Okay, you've definitely had too much," Dream eased George's drink away from him but he didn't seem to notice. Damn. George looked a little saddened by Dream's rejection of his touch.

"Come on, let me take you over to a chair with a back to it," Dream murmured, leading George carefully over to a chair and sat him down. "Don't leave, Clay," George whispered, his eyes glassed over when he looked up at Dream, whose expression softened but was slightly awash with confusion. Dream looked over at Face-Tat and realised he still had a good view of him from the table and so sat down next to George. It's probably not a good idea to leave him alone anyway.

Dream noted the time Face-Tat left but decided he would follow him the next day because George was still incapacitated and he didn't feel right just leaving him there. He instead carried a passed out George to his car and laid him down gently in the back seat of his car. He didn't know where George lived so he just took him to his apartment, driving slowly, as to not disrupt his slumber.

George stirred when the car stopped purring. "Where are we?" he mumbled, starting to sit up. "Uh, well, I didn't know where you lived so I just brought you to mine," Dream blushed, aware of how much of a creep he must seem. Luckily George just nodded, clearly fine with it. In fact, as Dream helped him into the elevator George started to become quite handsy, stroking Dream's shoulder, and starting to trail his fingers across his chest.

"No, George, that's not a good idea," Dream unhooked George from him and settled him onto his bed. George made a grab for Dream's hand. He was stunned by how much he enjoyed that feeling and found himself squeezing it lightly. George grinned as he nodded off and Dream shook his head, smirking to himself.