George has overcome the riches and the tight kept tendencies of his family finding a rag tag team of street racers. After learning the ins and outs of Las Nevadas, he's come to decide that joyriding is a newfound freedom. But with all the aftermath...
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"Tip toeing past so many stages." Fast times. Sabrina Carpenter
"George."
Pressing his forehead deeper into the grooves of Dream's shoulder blades he groaned. It was warm outside June, soon turning July. The world seemed to take forever to add degrees to the Fahrenheit temperatures. George felt he was chomping at the bit to have the cold weather and dark memories chased into heat and summer.
"Babe," Dream chuckled, "I love you. So much, yeah? But if you don't leave me alone long enough to fix my car I'm going to flip."
"Call me babe again and I'll slash your tires."
"Sure, babe."
In retaliation, George opened his mouth and sunk his teeth gently into Dream's shoulder, tasting the salty familiarity of him. This was enough for his boyfriend to yelp and pull him into quick a headlock.
"What are you, a child teething?" Dream hissed, a bit of laughter in his tone. It was distinguishable now that they've been together for this long. The apathy was only a surface level door to the labyrinth that was Dream's emotions. There were only some points where he could shut even George out, but either he wasn't paying attention or Dream deliberately knew how to appear aloof, just for him. "Stop it."
"No," he spat while struggling beneath Dream's arm. His hold was tight. Strong. Sexy. Fuck him. "Fuck you. Let. Me. Go."
"When I do," he drawled on George's heart with his brass tone, "you have to let me work, babe."
He swallowed his pride, "Fine."
With his new freedom George pulled away, avoiding the apologetic kiss Dream tried and slumped with arms crossed against Dream's car. It was a bit beaten up from the sea wall race. Small scratches brazen on the left side door almost looked like a rabid animal had attacked; George grimaced while running a hand over it.
"You didn't want to go shopping with Quackity?" Dream doesn't sound dismissive, it's more or less curious because... maybe George had been acting a little more out of than usual. On a normal day George wouldn't be clinging to Dream so restlessly, he'd be out with the others. Helping Sapnap at the shop he and Punz had just renovated, going to lunch with Karl during the other man's lunch break, or doing random shit with Quackity. He shrugs.
"He was going after some meeting with an unknown man with a secret bullshit name. Vanilla or something."
George waved his hand and looked off into the distance, eyeing several passerby civilians. Las Nevadas, during the day, was simply a place people lived. People with normal 9 to 5 day jobs and crazy night lives. George found being here even more intriguing during the day. The groupies still occupied the streets like rats, specifically the flags that were having lunch outside and enjoying the view. Which happens to be Dream in a tank-top and low rise jeans. Arms exposed to the sun.
