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

with or without it

It’s already almost noon.

Dream had been planning on streaming, but he can’t find himself to get out of the bed. He sinks back against the mattress, trailing his finger across the sleeping body next to him.

How the hell was he supposed to leave when George kept pulling him in?

The night had been cold - for George, not him. If the snow piling up outside was anything to go off of, it was freezing, but Dream was burning with the koala clinging to him. They hadn’t been able to sleep well - George was cold and clingy, and he’d just finally fallen asleep a few hours ago after Dream railed the shit out of him.

He was sleeping soundly now, hand reaching out to grab Dream, presumably, but settling for the sheets instead. His head was rolled to the side, and despite his shaking, he had kicked the comforter off of him.

“Mhm,” George whimpered in his sleep, which wasn’t anything out of the usual. Some of the time on the rare occasion George lets Dream fall asleep before him, he wakes up in terror from the older man ranting in his sleep.

Usually, it’s nonsense. Sometimes about manhunt. Sometimes it makes no sense at all.

Other times, most of the time, he’s crying out his name. “Clay,” he calls, and it’s a stifled sound, barely audible but his ears are trained to pick up on it.

“Yeah, baby?” he hummed, leaning over, placing a hand on the bed against his side. He presses a kiss to his neck, and he writhes in response.

George is silent, a rarity in itself, and curls in towards Dream. His hand leaves the sheet and in his sleep palms his hand against his groin. Dream can’t help but chuckle, lightly wrapping his fingers around his wrist and tugging it away. He slides himself over him, pinning his wrists to the bed and kisses him.

“D...Dream?”

George’s eyes were wide open, and a small tear was forming in his eye. He kissed it away, and George made a soft smile, reaching his hand up to grab his hoodie.

“What, you seriously still in the mood after last night?” he joked, though he could feel his pants getting more uncomfortable by the second. “We went at it for, what, two hours?”

“I just woke up,” George whispered, sitting up.

“Yeah, and you almost came in your pants.”

George winced, grabbing the pillow and throwing it at his face. Dream gasped in surprise as the pillow pressed against his face and George climbed on top of him. “You shouldn’t tease me so early,” he said, pouting as Dream snatched the pillow and threw it across the room.

“I was stating fact!”

“You’re being mean,” George said, sitting on top of his crotch. His hair was a mess - a result of the bedhead and the rolling around. The evidence of last night was all over him. His neck was littered with marks, and there was no doubt his ass is bruised.