George is the son to parents that own a multi-million dollar eco friendly car company. Cars have never been George's favorite subject. He knows which are the most expensive on the market because of his father but he's never understood the hype.
Aft...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I wish I was good enough. If only I could wake you up." Hold Me While You Wait. Lewis Capaldi
"Sapnap... yes. Calm down. We're fine..." George rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Why the fuck are you awake at 5 am. No. We're in a hotel a city away. His sister. Yeah. Okay. No, I got it okay."
"Shut the hell up," Dream smacked a pillow against George's ear. His phone smushed into his cheek while he bid goodbye to Sapnap.
"Why are you on the phone?"
"Sapnap," George muttered. "Freaked out because we were gone."
"Mm," Dream's voice was still caked in sleep. It was slowly pulling George under again. "Come here."
An arm held out for grasp and George was too tired to worry about its meaning. He let Dream pull him close. harboring him in a warm grasp. George's limbs became languid once more and sleep gripped his neck.
"This okay?" Dream's chin rested above him light on George's bed-mussed hair.
George sleepily tucked in closer and said, "yeah."
Hours later when the sun peeking through the worn curtains did George stir again. Heated by foreign blankets and a lingering smell of vanilla and diesel, George woke up alone. The deadbeat clock on the opposite bedside read 9:45 and George let out a guttural groan. A hand through Dream's ghosted warmth and wondered where he went. A grip to the bedsheets, scratchy between fingers, he wondered if the memory of Dream's arms were real or just a really good dream. Was the warmth of his chest an abstract concept or did it really happen?
He couldn't think about it for long before the room lock buzzed and revealed the man himself. 6ft of absolute muscle appeared to George. Arms exposed, his legs in shorts, his chest nearly bare. Dream pulled the hem of his shirt up to swipe the sweat from his forehead and George's breath became nonexistent. The sliver of skin revealed was tainting with George's malleable sexuality.
"Oh," Dream smiled and brought more light into the room. "You're awake."
George unstuck his dry tongue from the roof of his mouth, "yeah. Um." His eyes betrayed him and dragged down Dream's body again, "just um woke up. You look..." he cleared his throat. "Like... productive. Like um, you've been up a while."
Dream's smile slowly turned devious, he leaned against toe dresser, "yeah. Woke up with not-so-pleasant dreams and decided to make use of the free gym."
"Mm," George hummed with no thoughts. His brain felt empty, filled with Dream and a sweaty shirt. Dream in shorts. Dream staring at him like he knew what George was thinking. And those shorts, "gym."
"My eyes are up here, Daredevil."
George flushed and looked away entirely, "I um.. apol... I'm sorry."
