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

F*ck The Boss

With one step forward, he stands nearly against George, and he places his hands lightly on George’s hips, startling the other slightly. As he lifts himself up, he purposefully presses his back into Dream’s chest, who exhales deeply as he feels George’s ass press against his crotch. His hands start moving down over George’s hips, towards his outer thighs, and George sighs softly.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you look today?” Dream whispers into his ear, making George shudder as he closes his eyes.

“You keep doing this,” George whispers back, feeling Dream's lips move down across his neck, leaving little pecks all over his skin.

“Hmm, doing what?” he answers, sending a shiver through George’s spine, before he sucks softly on a spot at the back of George's neck.

“Teasing me,” George responds whiningly, and Dream smirks against his skin. His hands wander towards George’s inner thighs, stroking the fabric of his dress pants slowly, just below his groin.

“If you don’t like it,” Dream whispers right against his ear again, making a small gasp escape from George, “then do something about it.”

“They’re waiting on me for a meeting,” he breathes out. Dream hears some disappointment in his words, but retracts his hands and takes a step back, disconnecting their bodies from each other. George turns around with a light pout on his flushed face. Dream marvels at the way George looks, disheveled in the sexiest of ways, his desire clearly visible through his pants and the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

“I’ll be off in an hour, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dream states, his voice returned to its usual timbre, as he sits down again, admiring George from a distance. The other nods and makes his way over to the door, well aware of the lingering gaze on his ass. He looks back over his shoulder once more, catching Dream slouched in his chair, his elbow propped on the armrest with his head tilted up, biting down on one of his fingers.

“Have a good evening~,” George’s sweet voice calls out to him, before he leaves the room. Dream lets his hand ghost over his own erection, but decides against touching himself as he remembers the quotations that he expects to be brought in any moment now.

———

“I swear to God this job is going to end me one day,” Dream mumbles quietly to himself as he rummages through a pile of documents, unable to find the specific binder he needs. He throws sets of papers to the floor as he searches, slowly clearing out his desk.

His lack of sleep that night, the coffee machine running out, and his lost documents all subsequently contributed to his awfully snappy mood that day. He wasn’t able to stop by George when he came in that morning either due to his rush –because of course, his car wouldn’t start when he needed to leave–, so he could only hope for a moment of peace later in the day in which he could call him.

He finally appears to find the document he needs, but when he reads the date on the front paper, he curses out and tosses it back onto his desk. Right subject, wrong year. He groans loudly as he crouches down to pick up the other papers he threw onto the ground.

With fresh reluctance he sits down behind his desk, letting his eyes scan across his monitor to figure out which tasks to prioritize. The missing document will have to wait until a later date. He slips off his jacket and throws it over the backrest of his chair, being sufficiently warmed up from his intense search.

A few uninteresting hours pass by as Dream works on queries and office policies, in which he manages to finish most of his tasks relatively easily. He gets taken out of his concentration by a set of knocks at the door, the umpteenth set that day. Rather unamused, he answers, “come in.”