Dont read this, this is just for stories i want read

office hours

Dream releases George and slips his belt out of the loops. As he shucks his slacks down to his ankles, he looks over at George. The afternoon light that shines in through the window behind his desk illuminates his skin beautifully. Faded marks and bruises trickle across his ass and shoulders from last time.

It’s only been a few days but it seems like it’s been forever since he’s seen George fully nude. Looking at him now is like looking at him for the first time. In awe and effortlessly seduced.

“Stop eye fucking me and let’s get to it,” George rolls his eyes as he sets his folded clothes into a neat pile next to Dream’s shirt. He should’ve done that. He’s going to have wrinkles. Fuck. Whatever.

Dream plops down on his desk chair, legs spread and leaned back against the expensive leather. He notices faint hickies peeking out from his boxers on his inner thighs that George had left some time ago. There’s a clear tent in his underwear and he can feel it getting harder as George situates himself on his knees, almost under the desk.

“You always look so pretty like that,” Dream blurts out. He reaches down to caress George’s cheek and warmth climbs into his heart when George leans into his touch. He doesn’t even notice George tugging his boxers off and fanning the head with his breath.

“I’m sure I look even better like this.” George grabs hold of his base and takes him in his mouth. It’s hot and wet and it makes him twitch. His tongue drags under his shaft and the tip presses the back of his throat without struggle. Whatever isn’t in his mouth is being pumped slowly in one hand. Meanwhile, George makes intense eye contact with him, satisfaction clear on his face as Dream bites his lip harshly.

Dream tilts his head back against his chair and moves his hand to grasp George’s hair. He guides him slowly, wanting to make sure he feels every inch of himself going in and out of George’s mouth. The moans stuck at the back of George’s throat make him harder than he was before. He might even tip over the edge if—

There’s a couple knocks at the door and then the knob jiggles. Whoever had tried to enter sighs, exasperated, and flips through some papers.

“Sir, you have a meeting in 40 minutes. There’s a caller on Line 2 asking to confirm your attendance.” It's Nick, or Sapnap, Dream's secretary. He knows his relationship with George so it's no wonder his voice is full of annoyance.

Dream and George match panicked expressions as they look at each other. But George doesn't remove himself, he just keeps going. The hold on his hair becomes tighter.

"Y-Yeah, okay. Thank you!" Dream stammers helplessly. There's no way in hell Sapnap doesn't have a clue as to what's happening behind the door right now. Sapnap ushers out a form of acknowledgement before finally leaving.

Immediately, he forces George off of him. He sighs through his nose as he taps George's thigh with one of his shoes.

"Let me take this call. Don't even think about trying anything," he warns. He knows damn well it doesn't affect anything George is thinking. Looking up at him with those falsely innocent eyes, curled lashes already sticking together with tears. There's an array of schemes he knows George hides in that brain of his. "I mean it."

George just smiles, tight lipped and cocked to one side. He's not listening to him. His subspace is already through the roof.

Dream uses one hand to hold the phone up to his ear and the other to play with George's hair just to entertain him. The call is quick and short, just a couple of "yes" and "okay" lines and it's over. As soon as he puts the phone back in its holder, George's eyes sparkle.

"Up." He pats the top of his thigh and spreads his legs a little more, at least as much as his pants will let him. George eagerly climbs over him and sits on his lap, utilizing their slight height difference to pepper Dream's face with kisses. His arms wrap around his small frame and he brings their chests flush against each other.