Clay had gone over the next few days with his journal in his classes and explained to nick and the professor in an easy lie that he was having troubles with his laptop so only brought something simpler to class like his phone and journal. He was lucky enough to spend most of the week at nicks flat and a couple other friends and had considered staying at wilburs for the weekend time.
He also considered returning to his own dorm to check up on his friend, george.
But settled on texting him.
'Hey, you doing alright? You need anything?' He recalled wilburs thoughtful offering as assumed if it were safe for wilbur to go check up on his friend, then he was safe to. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
An hour passes of george falling back asleep time and time again while typing and retyping to clay what he wanted. Of course, he couldn't dare to send half of those texts.
'Bring me a coffee please. Extra whipped cream.'
Clay hums, reading the message and soon upping and leaving down some stairs and through campus, shoes on the concrete while he pushes in a headphone, thinking to himself. George probably liked his drink decently bitter. If he didnt at least mixing in the whipped cream would most likely help.
////
"George? I-..... Oh.." Dream mumbled while squeezing his eyes shut after entering their shared dorm. The scents were overriding his mind and urges. How did wilbur do it?
"Dream..?" The voice is soft and throaty, coming from a few footsteps ahead of him.
The blonde alpha reopens his eyes, shaking off his thoughts and looking ahead of him. George is stood there in nothing but a large teeshirt, dark messy hair and lidded eyes. His lips had bit bitten up into a hueful red and wore a couple small bruises on his exposed skin. He mustve been sleep walking. Was that shirt his?
"George... I... I.. Brought..... Uh... The..." His breath hitches when the smaller boy steps a lot closer to him, closing his darker eyes and nuzzling up against clay, the warm body heat taking him over. Dream raises his arm up to keep the coffee from spilling, trying his hardest to stay calm.
"Y-your..coffee......coffee." He finishes, lips quivering in light struggle to keep his head clear over the mental voice shouting at him that george was asking for more. Very clearly, actually.
"Mmm..thank you" george replied, not reaching for the drink and continuing to get his scent all over the taller male and press his body against his.
"Is.. That my shirt?" The blonde did his best to keep on any type of subject of conversation, to stay focused on something else other than sinking into the urges.
"...mm.. Yeah. Wilbur made me get back to my room.. But i still needed something. So i found this one on the floor and it smells very much like you." George explained softly while his eyes were shut, enjoying the feelings given. His hand slides along his friends midsection and down lower before he felt the weight he was pressed against suddenly vanish. He sleepily catches himself and opens his eyes, looking up to the other in question.
"Youre... Youre uh welcome to wear it." Dreams wrist twitches before he moves over and sets the cup down, stepping back from george even further.
"There's your coffee.. I.... Ill be back later on." He turns to leave and george is left standing there, eyes burning on the door, barely able to sense he'd done anything wrong.
////
George is curled up on his own bed in clays blanket, thinking into nothingness. He was so close to him. His scent. His hair. His skin. His clothes. His hands, the veins on the back of them, the blood flowing through him and fuck. His lips, the subtle curves of his muscle and the few freckles on his cheekbones.
Before the boy knew it, He's laid back lowly and arms lazily holding a pillow to the space between his thighs and messily shifts into rutting upward against that fabric and plush, eyes lowered to the pillow he held while he continued.
He's soon rolling over to lay on his belly, the lower backside lifted while the pillow is under him, shifting into some slow rolling of his hips and groin, spreading his heat and that thick scent, along with some juices that passed off his skin easily.
George mutters breathy curses he was confident no one could hear, hands gripping shut tighter into the fabric, and squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his headache rock in his temples and his face flush up into an eye watering wanting degree aside from what his body was already giving him. He felt like he was suffocating all at the blame of dreams existence, even when he knew himself to be someone who didnt fall in love let alone masturbate while in an early heat over someone.
God he needed him.
Dream could eat him alive and alone, his saliva coating his skin would easily send him over the edge multiple times at an alarming quickness. Just the thought of dream made his knees quiver and his hot headache grow a little heavier, his mouth parting slightly wider and tongue poke out in a hang, his own saliva wet on his lips and sticky in string in his mouth.
Before he knows it hes picturing his flatmate on his knees, thick muscular thighs in front of the brunettes face and member hard and long, mass in weighted size. George can only image to that extent before his hips stutter and his body twitches as he whines out something indescribable and he finishes.
After a few seconds of catching some soft cool breath, his hips return to rolling slowly, lidded eyes staring at a spot on the wall in front of him while staying laid on his belly on his bed.
He hears some sound in his flat, assuming it to be dream and those dark brown orbs shift over to his own bedroom door and how halfway open it was; his mind trying to narrow down any scent he could pick up to guess who it was.
YOU ARE READING
another? /dnf/ /omegaverse/
Fanfiction"life's a little bit like a roll of the dice. that asshole in heaven throws shit at you and you have to make do and try your hardest not to fall apart under the pressure, with what god forces on you just to watch another person squirm." the taller b...
