The next race.
When was the next race?
Sapnap and George hadn't quarrelled over much of anything lately. Yeah, there was the occasional bickering over stupid shit like who out of the two was supposed to get the groceries that week (surprise; it was Sapnap). Or who was supposed to pick up the mail from the post office (George made an excuse about being too busy to go, though he's always had a very open schedule) Or what they would have for dinner (George wanted lamb, Sapnap wanted hamburgers and They ended up getting sushi instead). However, none of it was worth racing over, and quite frankly, it was pissing George off.
Dream had been on George's mind almost every single day since the last race. It was odd, because that was their one and only encounter so far, yet the brunet already had George wrapped around his delicate little finger.
George wanted nothing more than to see the pretty blond clad in blue again, sporting his colours. His short skirt, maybe even a cute little oxford blue crop top, and his neon emerald nails. Waving his checkered flag high in the air, back arching slightly as he lifted himself onto his toes, and eyes shining with excitement and something else—something George wanted to see up close and personal again.
But, of course, as all things do, nothing was going George's way.Sapnap had yet to call a race for anything, really. Whether it was just for the sake of it, or because of some petty argument. And at the moment, it seemed like Sapnap had...other things on his mind.George watched from their L-Shaped couch in the living room as Sapnap dragged in his third girl of the week—and it was only Tuesday.
George rolled his eyes, forcing his line of view to stay level with the television in front of him as Sapnap and the random girl shoved their tongues down each other's throats, blindly backing down the hall toward Sapnap's room.
The door slammed shut, followed by another loud noise that was a mix between a gasp and a moan. When Sapnap and George first moved into their current place, George had learned very quickly that their shared apartment had thin walls. Very thin walls.Irritation and disappointment welled in George's gut. Irritation because, well, he was fucking tired, and now he would have to listen to the pair go at it for the next hour and a half. And disappointment because fuck, he missed Dream.
He missed—no, he craved the artificial cherry taste of Dream's lips on his. He wanted to feel the way George's hips felt under his strong calloused hands again. He wanted to toy with the boy's sensitive nipples, run his thumb roughly over the cold ball of his piercing and leave him squirming, whimpering for more. George's eyelids shut as he let out a shuddering breath, images of Dream in the front seat of his car, between his legs on the floor of his car, and on his lap all dancing around in his mind.
George sighed, blinking blankly up to the ceiling. He could feel himself beginning to strain painfully against the fabric of his ripped jeans, which he still had yet to change. The sound of Sapnap and his one-night stand was starting to get unbearably loud. George pushed himself up and off the couch and grabbed his car keys off the end table beside the couch. He beelined for the front door, not giving a shit about the loud slam as he shut the door behind him.The cold night air nipped unapologetically against his cheeks. George hurried down the concrete steps, turning sharply on his heel as soon as his feet met the ground in the direction of his beautiful, shiny blue sports car.
He unlocked his car and plopped into the front seat, hastefully reaching down to unbutton his ripped jeans. A breath left his slightly parted lips as the pressure around his erection loosened. Without dwelling on it too much, George slid his left hand under his waistband, gritting his teeth as he imagined not his own large, unsteady hand—but instead Dream's heavenly ones, twisting with such intricacy and skill, moving in all the right ways.
