TW: bulge, size difference, anal sex, swearing, praising, pet names
top dream
bottom george
REQUEST!!
(6/21) Dear Diary,
So, today Dream invited me to come over to his house. At first I wasn't too sure if I wanted to go over— I hadn't showered yet, and looked like a mess, but he convinced me. I didn't want to get ready but I did anyways (I don't want Dream to think I look like a mess) and am heading on over in like. . . ten minutes I think. We always have "sleepovers" (I hate the term sleepovers, it makes me sound like I'm a little girl but there really is no way to call it), and besides, a sleepover gives me the chance to sleep in the same bed as Dream which I am not passing up. Only an idiot would ever pass up that opportunity. I packed these cute plaid (black and red) pajama pants, and a cropped, loose white t-shirt to sleep in, ripped jeans and a Whitney Houston concert shirt I took from my moms closet back in England. Obviously I also brought my toothbrush and stuff, but that's really not important. I always wore those shorts around Dream, the plaid ones. He said they looked good once, and I wasn't sure if he thought the shorts themself looked good, or if my ass did. Maybe both. Either way, I'm gonna wear them.
(6/21 again) Dear diary,
Okay so basically I'm hiding in the bathroom right now. Ugh, Dream is so cute I can't I keep making a fool of myself— Dream probably knows I like him, I'm pretty sure a blind rat could tell I like him. He was trying to tell me about his favorite football team, and I completely zoned out and could only stare at him. He wore a loose gray shirt, and his collarbones were exposed. When he finished talking I couldn't reply since I was a drooling mess at simply his collarbones, how down bad can I be? He's just so perfect to be honest. I really couldn't name a flaw about him. He's so cute, and nice, and he works out— one time I rolled my eyes at him and he just picked me up and threw me over his shoulders as if I was a sack of flour or something. And his hand placement when he did that, I'm honestly giggling at the thought. Of course I know he doesn't like me, so he doesn't need to know I like him. I'll just keep fantasizing about it. Anyways, I better get back outside to Dream— we're getting ready for bed. These are lazily written, I'm sorry— I'll do better next time. ~Till later, George
George gulped and shut the book, slipping it into his backpack.
He than quickly got dressed into his pajamas, since that was the reason he originally came into the restroom. He made sure to pull the shorts up a bit higher than normal; his stomach was exposed due too the crop top.
"Sorry I took awhile." George held the mini backpack in his hands.
Dream didn't turn around to face him, he continued swirling the hot chocolate he made with a spoon. He wore matching pajama bottoms, except they weren't shorts, just normal, ankle length pants, yet he had no shirt on so his muscular back was exposed for George to goggle at. "No worries." Dream replied nonchalantly.
George inhaled deeply through his nose. "What'cha doing?" He peered around Dreams back, setting both of his hands on the counter besides one of Dreams. The size difference of the two made him gulp; Dreams hands easily engulfed George's, though the two rarely found themself touching one another like that.
Only once did that ever happen.
George finally learnt to drive, and he was definitely still rusty, but he got his license, so he didn't suck that much.
Back then, he didn't know— so Dream took the challenge to teaching him.
So, Dream sat in the front seat with his legs opened for George to sit in the middle of them. He didn't touch the wheel unless George asked him too , but at the start, Dream sat his hands on top of George's to help lead him better.
