TW: anal sex, swearing, praising, degrading, swearing, cheating, alcohol
top dream
bottom george
C'mon Dream— there's no way in hell George would ever flirt with another guy besides you, right?
His teeth grinded.
Every hand brush, every giggle, all of it drove Dream crazy. Except, the issue was George wasn't doing that to him, he was doing it to Wyatt.
Wyatt was a mutual friend of the two— they all three met back in college just George and Dream happened to grow a bit. . . a bit closer.
Wyatt had always had something for George. It was clear, his tanned face flushed a cherry pit red whenever George talked to him, and he began stuttering. He was nothing but some geek in college— but over the years, he had gone to the gym more and gone on diets, so he was looking better than he did back in college.
The three had stayed friends all these years, but the changes only now were noticeable.
A toned body, chiseled face, baby blue eyes that went perfectly with his straight white teeth. He looked like a doll. And Dream hated the fact he was so. . . so perfect. He had to be on steroids or something.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Wyatt chuckled. George giggled, and nodded, peering up at him with those stupid doe eyes.
"Mhm. . ." George ran a finger down Wyatt's arm.
They ended up going to a club— it was a dumb idea, Dream knew so, but he really didn't feel like bickering with George so he agreed to tag along.
He sipped at his whiskey, swirling it in its cup as he could only glare at George and Wyatt in silence. "A month? Maybe two?" Wyatt smiled softly at George; George could only blink at him in some form of awe.
"Yeah. You look wonderful, Wyatt." George chewed his bottom lip.
Wyatt's face went red, the same way it did in college. "Thanks, George, you do too."
George giggled and nodded, setting his hands in his lap after setting down his drink. "You're too kind." He grinned. "You're so. . ." George looked him up and down, slowly. "So big now. I remember you in college— you were this wimpy little kid, but look at you now- I can't believe I've barely noticed."
"Yeah. I started going to the gym near the end of the school year. Getting shoved in the library gets tiring eventually." He chuckled; George giggled. Dreams teeth gritted.
"I bet you could carry me if you really tried."
"I doubt I'd have to try." Wyatt finished the last sips of his beer, setting the glass container onto the bar counter, also pulling out a five dollar bill for the bartender.
"You sure? I've gained a bit of weight since college, so. . ."
Wyatt shrugged and stood up. "Doesn't look it." Sticking his hand out to George, inclining that he wanted to go deeper into the club with him, probably to dance or something.
No, Dream, George isn't an idiot he'll stay here with—
Georges fair hand found Wyatt's large ones.
What the fuck.
Dream wanted to stand up, to chase the two and pull George away, but he also didn't want George to be angry.
"Do you want another drink, sir?" The bartender said as she collected Wyatt's bill and drink.
"God," Dream muttered. "Yeah, I would. Thank you. The same as my last one." She nodded, and began pouring the drink. It looked like she was going to speak to Dream— about what? Dream had no clue. But, she kept opening and quickly snapping her mouth shut again as she tried to collect her thoughts.
