TW: anal sex, swearing, praising, praise kink
top dream
bottom george
NO EDITING WAAAH
part two of apologies
When George awoke the next morning, he expected to be in Dreams clutch.
He expected to be held, to be touched, to be told he was loved but of course— he woke to nothing, no body, no touch, no love. Or, there was a body that wasn't his or the figure implant of Dreams body in the mattress, it was simply Patches.
A good enough awakening, George supposed.
He sat up and groaned; he had never felt so sore in his life, yet he still reached over and scratched the top of Patches head.
"Hi baby." George kissed her head.
A low meow rumbled out her mouth, and she then licked George's wrist, before laying her head back down and shutting her eyes.
George sighed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He didn't remember putting it there, but he barely remembered what he did last night in general.
11:57 A.M— he woke late.
Climbing out of bed, he instantly headed into his bedroom and though he kept Dreams shirt on, he changed his thong into some short, tight black trunks that weren't very visible due to how long Dreams shirt was on him.
His bedroom felt. . . weird.
He felt as if he hadn't gone on it in a long time, as if the room had been abandoned, even though he had been in it just yesterday. Maybe it was because it didn't have Dream in it; George told himself that was it.
His next trip was downstairs, where he assumed Dream would be.
His feet were soft on the tile as he walked down the hall, and so were his hands as they brushed down the stairs hand railing.
"Dr—" He fell silent when he saw Dream stood in the kitchen with a phone pressed to his ear.
A new phone, he must've bought it earlier this day.
Dream faced the other way, so all George saw was his backside, though George wasn't complaining. He chewed his bottom lip at the muscles which rippled through Dreams back since he was shirtless, and only wore some basketball shorts.
"I don't know, Sapnap."
Dream was on call with Sapnap, strange.
"I feel bad." Dream pulled the phone from his ear and switched it onto speaker. "I just. . . I told him I wasn't mad, you know?"
"Well he fucked up, not you." Sapnap said; he was chewing some form of food, George wasn't sure which.
"I know— but I told him I wasn't mad." Dream massaged the bridge of his nose. "I should have just said I was upset, that way—"
"No, Dream. You don't just sleep with someone 'cause they're trying to apologize, and when they ask if you're still mad after, if you said yes of course you'd feel like a dick."
Dream groaned. "Well I still feel like a dick! I told him I wasn't mad— I lied!"
"So you slept with him-"
"Well he initiated it."
"Doesn't matter. You slept with George, and George only slept with you because he wanted to apologize, but didn't know how to say it, so he instead just showed it."
"Mhm."
"And after, he verbally apologized."
"Yeah, and that's why I feel like I shouldn't be mad— he did both."
