cartier - dreamnotfound

cartier

Dream really should've thought twice when he decided to bring George to a nice bar.

George, Dream's sugar baby (though some may argue they were a bit more), sat next to the dirty blond on one of the stools, smiling brightly as yet another person chatted his ears off. Bitter jealousy and anger bubbled in Dream's gut as he watched the person, who introduced himself as Tyler, raked his eyes over George in a very non-subtle way.

Dream knew George looked good. His loose-fitting white balmain silk shirt that draped over his torso elegantly, his tight black high-waisted pants with a stylish Louis Vuitton belt fastened tightly around his small waist. The many, many designer necklaces that hung from around his neck, sparkling deliciously under the lights above. The Cartier bracelet that Dream had given him at the beginning of the night over an excellent dinner, earning him an excited squeal and a bone-crushing hug from the smaller man.

Dream knew George looked good.

And apparently everyone else did too, because this son-of-a-fuck wouldn't leave him alone.

Fingers wrapped hastily around the whiskey glass on the counter, condensation melting into calloused fingertips. Fuming emerald eyes narrowed at Tyler, dissecting every movement—including the hand that now suddenly rested on George's thigh. The brunet chuckled awkwardly, sparing Dream a glance, his face paling once he saw the absolute fire burning in his eyes.

"George, baby," Dream all but growled, sending a sickening smirk to the brunet. "Why don't we get out of here? I have a few surprises at home."

"Yes, Dream," George smiled sweetly, the small glint of silver on his left canine catching under the bar lights.

"Oh, you're together?" Tyler asked, hand slowly sliding off of George's thigh and into his own lap. George sighed and slid off the barstool, nodding. "Sorry about that, man. I'll get going then."

"That'd be great," Dream gave a tight-lipped smile and got off the barstool as well, one hand finding its way to George's waist. The brunet hummed happily, blinking discolored eyes up to the blond, and they were gone.

The Uber Dream ordered arrived in less than five minutes, and they arrived back at Dream's estate in less than ten. George had been relatively touchy the entire time, earning himself low growls of dirty phrases that weren't exactly appropriate for the back of an Uber.

"What are we gonna do tonight, Daddy?" George asked giddily as Dream struggled to unlock his door. Once it was unlocked, the door was thrown open, revealing Dream's home interior.

The front door immediately opened to a grand foyer with two wide staircases on either side. To the right of the foyer was a rather large living room, decorated in simplistic yet meaningful knickknacks here and there. Behind the couch was a large mirror, reflecting the entire living room.

George was practically dragged inside by his wrist. The Cartier bracelet was cold under Dream's palm, but George's wrist was a nice contrast—warm and welcoming. The brunet was basically manhandled as his back was shoved harshly against the wood of the front door as soon as it was closed. George let out a noise of partial shock and partial satisfaction.

"What was all that?" Dream hissed, eyes narrowed toward George.

"Nothing, Daddy," George smiled, innocent and saccharine. His dainty hands pressed lightly against Dream's chest, feeling how toned he was under his button up. "You look good tonight."

Dream's lips curved up into a smirk, thumbs massaging roughly into George's hips. "You look stunning, baby," he stepped back, giving room for George to move away from the door. "Give me a twirl, sweetheart."