Beneath The Surface - DNF

Chapter 12

The drive back from the warehouse was quiet, but not in the usual way. It wasn't comfortable. It was tense, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings that neither Dream nor George had the energy to confront—yet.

George's grip on the steering wheel tightened as they approached Dream's house, his jaw set in a hard line. He could still feel Marcus's words lingering in his mind, picking away at the uneasy truce he had made with his past. Dream could sense it too. George had been distant since they left the warehouse, and Dream didn't like being left in the dark.

When they parked, George sat in silence for a moment, his hands still gripping the wheel. He didn't move, just staring straight ahead, his mind racing. Dream leaned back in the seat, studying him, waiting for George to say something. But when George made no effort to speak, Dream decided to break the silence himself.

"You gonna tell me what that was about?" Dream's voice was low, calm, but the frustration was clear underneath.

George exhaled sharply but didn't turn to face him. "What do you want me to say, Dream?"

"I want you to tell me the truth," Dream said, leaning forward. "You didn't just know that guy—you had history with him. What happened?"

George's fingers drummed restlessly on the steering wheel. He hated talking about the past, especially the part that involved Marcus. But Dream wasn't going to let it go. Not after today.

"We worked together," George finally admitted, his voice tight. "It was years ago. Marcus and I were business partners. But it didn't end well."

Dream frowned, leaning closer. "Why didn't it end well? What happened?"

George's shoulders tensed, and for a moment, Dream thought he might shut down completely. But then George turned to face him, his dark eyes meeting Dream's green ones.

"Marcus... he's not like you, Dream. He's the kind of guy who wants everything—money, power, control. And he'll do whatever it takes to get it, no matter who he has to step on. I couldn't do that anymore. I couldn't live that life."

Dream remained silent, waiting for George to continue.

"We started small," George said, his voice softening as he spoke. "Just basic deals. I was good at it—too good, maybe. But Marcus, he wanted more. He started taking bigger risks, pushing us deeper into dangerous territory. I wasn't willing to risk my life every single day for the sake of more money and power."

George's eyes dropped to his hands, fingers still tight on the wheel. "That's why I left. I wasn't ready to die for it."

Dream leaned back, digesting George's words. It made sense now, why George had been so reluctant to talk about his past, why he was so cautious. George wasn't afraid of the game—they all played it. But he didn't want to lose himself in it.

"I'm not like that," Dream said, his voice low but firm. "I'm not Marcus."

George glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "I know you're not. But you're still chasing something, Dream. I can see it. You're just as driven as he was, maybe more."

Dream was quiet for a moment, his mind swirling with everything George had said. He hadn't realized how much of himself he'd buried in his ambition—how much of his drive had been to prove something, not just to the world but to his father's memory.

"I get caught up sometimes," Dream admitted, his voice softening. "Since my dad died, I've been trying to be the best. It's like if I'm not constantly pushing forward, I'm letting him down." He paused, the weight of his words hanging between them. "But I don't always see the line. I don't always know when to stop."

George listened in silence, his heart clenching at Dream's confession. He had always sensed there was something more behind Dream's drive, but hearing it now made it all the more real.

"I know you've got a dangerous reputation," George said softly. "But I don't want you to become like Marcus. I can't be a part of that."

Dream's green eyes softened, his gaze fixed on George. "I don't want that either. I don't want to lose myself, or you."

The car was filled with the heavy silence of their words, both of them understanding the unspoken agreement between them. This wasn't just business anymore. It hadn't been for a long time.

Dream shifted closer, his eyes never leaving George's. The words Marcus had thrown at them earlier echoed in his mind, the insinuation that Dream was using George for his looks, for his connections. It had stung, but Dream needed to make one thing clear.

"Look, George," Dream said, his voice low and serious. "I promise I'm not using you for your gorgeous body or your beautiful face. I want us to work together. That's all. I'm not Marcus. I'm not here to play games with you."

George blinked, his breath catching as Dream's words hung in the air. His heart raced, his mind spinning, but the look in Dream's eyes told him that this wasn't a joke. This was real.

George shifted in his seat, his body reacting to the magnetic pull between them. The tension that had been building for so long finally snapped, and George closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Dream's in a heated kiss.

Dream's hands immediately gripped George's waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. George felt the rush of heat through his body, his heart pounding as he crawled into Dream's lap, straddling him. The weight of his body pressing down on Dream sent a spark of electricity through them both, and George couldn't help but gasp as Dream's hands slid down to his hips, holding him firmly in place. The size difference was driving him nuts.

The kiss grew more desperate, more intense, as George tangled his fingers in Dream's hair, pulling him closer. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, the heat between them building with every passing second. Dream's hands roamed across George's back, slipping under his shirt, the touch of his fingers against George's skin sending a shiver through him.

George's breath hitched, his body arching into Dream's touch as they moved together, the car's confined space amplifying the intensity of the moment. Dream's grip tightened on George's hips.

Dream stopped the kiss for a few moments and lousy mumbled in George's ear "god I would fuck the shit out of that small waist of yours if I could" the brunette couldn't help the small moan that escaped his lips as he ground down against Dream's lap, feeling the pressure building between them.

Dream pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he looked up at George, their foreheads pressed together. His green eyes were dark with desire, but there was something softer there too—something that made George's heart race even faster.

"I meant what I said," Dream murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm not using you, George. I need you with me. For everything. You're smart, you know how this business works, if I fail with you, you can call it quits. This is how you know I'll try my best."

George's chest tightened at Dream's words, his heart pounding as he realized just how deep this connection between them had become. He swallowed hard, his fingers still tangled in Dream's hair, his body still pressed tightly against Dream's.

"I'm here," George whispered, his voice breathless but sure. "I'm with you."

Dream's hands tightened on George's hips, pulling him closer once more as their lips met again in another heated kiss. The world outside the car seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them, tangled together, lost in the intensity of the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing hard, their foreheads still resting against each other, the weight of the kiss lingering between them.

"This isn't just about business anymore," Dream murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not for me."

George swallowed, his pulse still racing. "Not for me either."