some persuasion required

chapter 9

Warning for explicit sexual content!!
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George didn't even know why he was waiting for something like this.

Especially when Dream said he could have it, whenever and however much he wanted. And George wasn't really the type of person to deny such offers of getting everything he desired handed to him on a silver platter.

Honestly that was all he ever attempted to pull out of Dream, of favors and wishes and whatever he could possibly think of for the other to give him. And, right now, not even a full day passing from their prior engagement that changed absolutely fucking everything because George was far gone enough that was all he needed to fully cave in; he was pacing, looking at his door like it would someone magically open without him ever turning the handle.

He blew out a breath, feeling so utterly stupid. Sometimes George genuinely believed Dream was affecting his brain cell count, a slowly dwindling number that seemed to disappear entirely when he was in front of the other.

His tongue tangled in his mouth, when George was always so damn eloquent, by the way. His thoughts narrowing were even if his brain was massive, and that wasn't the only thing that was massive, either. And his heart felt all funny and his breathing was all uneven or whatever. It was difficult to think about anything other than this, than lips pressed against lips.

George reached his hand over his own, brushing over where Dream once was.

Really, he had no choice, he had to open his door.

Dream's fingers tapped over the brass handle, considering, contemplating. It wasn't too soon, right? To so desperately want after George and forget that he had just promised they would go at a pace that made the other comfortable.

That was why he hesitated. Why the entrance was still shut, why he had spent hours hovering and nearly going out as the sun dipped and the moon rose, too concentrated on George to really do anything else.

He sunk his head against the wood, letting out a long sigh, Dream fully aware how pathetic this was.

It wasn't like he could help it.

Dream had been pining after George for god knows how long. Thinking of their hands, or, in those particular instances, their legs intertwining. Of George in his space and not caring about moving away for once. Of kissing enough to satiate Dream enough from boiling right over.

Fuck it, the marriage thing was all an excuse, he could admit that, at least.

Getting George here was the point, but actually getting him, having the other all to himself, that was the main motivation for this whole thing. Dream just didn't expect George to, like, actually go all in for it.

He didn't think it would be reciprocated. Or maybe that the other would avoid it entirely, make Dream work for it or whatever stupid shit George got in his head. But, hey, as long as he was thinking about him.

About what they shared. About what more they could have.

Dream was just about ready to give him all of that right now, turning the handle heedlessly, being pulled towards George because he could never stay away.

It was quiet, empty. The darkened hallway showed that, really, George should be sleeping right now. Instead of leaving out from his room in hope of.. what? An impromptu make-out session like they were some horny teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

Well.. yeah. Pretty much.

George flushed at this knowledge, at the reality of how much he wanted that exact scenario to happen. Dream kissing him had untethered some of George's long earned restraint, and now it was difficult to have even a little bit of it.