Lustful Love (a DNF smut and fluff oneshot book)

« A Hallway Away »

Started: September 6th
Finished: September 16th

Contains: olfactophilia (smelling kink), mouth bondage, blow job, praise, sub space stuff

Words: 2276

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It was a day like any other. Dream was busy editing for George, and George was walking around the house looking for things to do. What's up for today? Laundry!!

He steps into their shared room with a basket, ready for the barely clean clothing and bad smells to come forth. One after one gets picked up, and now with a full basket, he's walking into the laundry room. But suddenly his ears gets a loud call from Dream.

"Love, can you come in here and grab my hoodie? It's stained!!"

George sighs with an eye roll, but he's not at all upset. Frankly, he finds it funny. Setting the basket down on top of the washer, he walks across the hall into Dreams office. Dream greets him with a smile and short nod towards the location of the hoodie. George smiles back, walking towards the black heap of fabric on the floor. He picks it up and tosses it over his arm, but it's quickly lived as he instead brings it to his nose.

"Jesus Dream, what did you spill on here? The smell is strong!! Was it recent?"
Dream gives a light chuckle. "Just wash it and don't worry about it." His face reflecting off the screen is distorted but still blatantly red, which arises confusion within the brunette. But yet, he complies, and takes it to the laundry room.

He does not let go of it, though.

Each piece of clothing gets tossed into the washer along with soap. All, except for the hoodie. George is on a mission to figure out what the stain is. Why? Well it's not like he's got anything better to do. Plus, Dream seemed very suspicious of it, and when Dream acts like this, George can only assume that it's something sexual.

He takes one more waft of the stain. It smells so familiar, but he cannot put his finger on it, and it's beginning to make him frustrated.

Angrily, and sexually.

It's right there in the tip top of his mind. He knows that it's something sexual- or, at least, something from a bodily function. Sweat? Saliva? Piss? Lube? Cum?

Lightbulb.

"That's it. The little perv came on his hoodie and didn't even bother to clean it up?" George is laughing to himself about it, but there's still something lingering around in his mind. Something that can't take his focus off of the hoodie. The stain. The scent.

Dream came on his hoodie. His sexual release is soaked into the woven fabric.

A switch is flipped inside George's mind. He's no longer curious or thoughtful. Instead, the only thing floating about his mind and body, is arousal. It's confusing but he doesn't even care. There's goosebumps on his legs, sweat forming on the back of his neck, and his crotch is twitching at a steady pace. He's turned on just by the simple smell of Dreams fluid.

The laundry room door gets shut softly, and George is now sitting against the wall with the hoodie still up to his face. He's slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them off. Movements are slow and thorough, because the brunette cannot risk his boyfriend hearing him. What would happen if he got caught? Would he be scolded? Disgusted with? Shamed? George does not have the energy in him to even think of that right now, as arousal floods his veins. He's no longer flaccid- in truth, the exact opposite.

He doesn't have the patience, either, to even pay attention to the little things. His hand is immediately in his boxers, fingers wrapping around himself quickly. The whimpers are quick to begin as his hand moves back and forth. He stops though, pulls his hand out to spit on it, and then immediately go back in.