DNF//ONESHOTS

only bought this dress so you could take it off [ PT. 2 ]

a/n: hey. so, publishing was delayed for two reasons.

1. i have no reason and i am very sorry.

2. I still have no reason and I am still very sorry

dedicated to: enemy-to-lovers trope lovers. it is superior. that is all. (sue me).

summary: (sort of england, regency-era au where being gay wasn't a crime?? LMAO) The ball was tonight, and George and Dream needed to look their best. George goes to the boutique and buys a dazzling dress, it's bound to turn heads in any room he walks into. But the only head he cares about is Dreams.

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only bought this dress so you could take it off [ PART TWO ]

"You look good, George," he repeated again, giving the conversation another try.

George's temple quivered, holding back from tackling Dream down and calling him his. I look good, huh? Then prove it.

My hands are shaking, holding back from all of this.

"You look good, too, Dream," he smiled.

Dream tugged onto the strap of George's dress, sliding his finger slowly across the black band. "And this dress.. looks great, too, you know."

George's heart skipped a beat and he couldn't help but feel that stupid smile forming on his lips.

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

"Stop it," George pestered, but they both knew deep down that he liked it.

"Or what?," he smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing to George.

Take it off, ah, ah, ah, ah-h.

George couldn't contain his fluster, and Dream was only adding fuel to the fire. They both knew that, though.

"You're so stupid," George laughed in a hush tone, playing it cool when in reality he was using every muscle in his body to resist Dream's god-like figure and buttoned up suit. 

He wanted Dream all to himself, all by himself. He wanted to throw him against the wall, kiss him nameless, and whisper things into his ear that he'd been holding back all of those years of being "just friends". He wanted that cologne, that expensive red wine, and those damning red lips, and fresh linen scent all over his white duvet. He wanted Dream. And boy, was he getting it.

Dream leaned to whisper into his ear, "I know you love it," the change in his breath indicated that he was definitely smiling like a total idiot and that he, too, wanted to throw George onto some rando bed and do things that he swore sacred.

And, to be completely honest, they both knew deep down that this night would end up in tangled bed sheets, messy hair, and blushed faces of gratification. They both knew this would be a night to remember. A night that they'd only tell each other on late afternoons as they sip light champagne whilst look out on London's sunset.

"I'll call a cab," Dream insisted, that perky grin still planted on his face. "Only if you want, though. We can always just walk through the garden and-"

George grabbed onto Dream's wrist, pulling him out of the sea of people in the crowded room. The smell of gingham and warm lights soon came out of their senses as they entered the night's crisp midnight air.

He saw a few racing cars throughout the street despite the hour that the clock struck, but was a good sign since they could easily fetch a cab. George waved out a hand, still holding Dream's in the other. And finally, a cab pulled over.