one fleeting first

p1.ch3

George tried to stay mad, he really did, to anything Dream would do or say or demand retaliation for after the fact.

He wanted to, ready to enact revenge and cause the other to be as annoyed and spiteful as he made George on those days that Dream seemed to have it out for him.

And he was mad, at how he let Dream walk all over him when he never allowed such a thing to anyone else. How he would indulge the other, let too much slide when the other flashed a grin, when George fell victim to the same thing as everyone else.

He wanted to stay mad, but he felt himself caving, every single time, no matter what. Dream just messed with his head too much, fuck if he knew why. The other could just talk his way out of anything.

Dream was good with his words. It was why the teachers always gave him a pass, why classmates wouldn't be too bothered by any of his antics; Dream could get out of any trouble, any mishap, if he had enough time to speak away his wrongdoings.

George knew this was the case, but he was certain he wouldn't be the same, he wouldn't fall into Dream's traps so easily. He could hold a grudge.

But Dream was good, he fit in phrases, jokes, charm into any space George allowed.

He would talk and find with just enough of it, that the other couldn't stay that mad at him.

"I'll do anything, George," Dream whined, when George wouldn't meet his eye, when he was playing hard to get and hard to please, "Just tell me, I'll make it up to you."

George's resolve crumbled a bit, his stance to not give Dream attention faltering way too easily, as he flippantly responded, "Maybe you shouldn't have been so mean to me in the first place."

"You're so much meaner to me, come on."

That's what made George turn towards the other, that's what made his eyes flick down to the growing smile on Dream's lips. Dammit.

"I am not," George huffed, "I never do anything."

"Oh yeah?" Dream's head tilted to the side, "What about when you tripped me in the hall earlier?"

"You just ran into my foot right in front of you, not my fault. You're the one who nearly got me expelled from school."

Dream huffed a small laugh, his head tilting in such a delicate manner, making George swallow as the other responded, "I did not. Now you're just lying."

"No," George shook his head in warning, "You sent that email to the principal, from my hacked account-"

"Okay," Dream interrupted, drawing out the word as a dismissal, "It was just a little joke, and I just said I'll make up for it."

"It was unforgivable," George claimed, even if the grin that was tugging at his lips told the exact opposite.

"I'll drive you wherever you want."

"You already try to do that," George rolled his eyes, "I don't need a ride."

Dream tapped his fingers on the desk, "I'll vote for you as student council president next year."

"I won't miss one vote," George refused.

"I can blow you."

His eyes had never shot over so fast, speaking out a quiet, dangerous, "What?"

Which should have been a clear indicator of the true underlying implication: "What the fuck is wrong with you, please stop talking," but Dream soldiered on dutifully anyway.

"Blow you," he needlessly explained, "Like a blowjob, with my mouth."

George pushed at his shoulder to get him to be quiet, as they weren't currently alone in an isolated room, but instead surrounded by people at school, "I wasn't saying what because I didn't understand, I was saying what to tell you to shut up."