TW: praising, anal sex, swearing, overstimulation, rough sex
top dream
bottom george
The office meeting room felt tight, thick.
Though he sat at the head, and everyone else rowed down on both sides of the mahogany table should be feeling these nerves— it was Dream who always fell victim to anxiety.
"So." Dream cleared his throat and peered back at the stocks photo behind him. Sales, sales were up yet they stayed at a strict, firm line which could only lead Dream to believe they would soon fall so quick none of them could stop it. "These are each vehicle sold." He sold building machines, like bulldozers and excavators.
The business was normally all good— and since he was head CEO, he made the most.
"Looks good, right?" Dream wiped off the sweat from his palms onto his thighs.
The people around the room mumbled in agreement; a pretty lady tugged her ruby red lips upward.
"That's true. It is good. Business is high, up by 42% from last year, actually. However, there is an issue." Dream stood up, and began pointing at the red arch on the screen with the tip of his ballpoint pen. "You see how here there is a swift increase of sales, then it flattens out and is only slowly creeping up?"
The rooms aura shifted; Dream adjusted his maroon tie.
"Nine times out of ten, that line will have a sharp decrease down." Dream stood up straighter, and the anxiety slightly fizzled when he realized he was in charge. He was the boss.
"And what do you want us to do about it?" The same pretty lady, which Dream remembered her name was Erin, spoke up.
"I need you to figure this out. What do you guys think we need more of? More advertisement, better sales peo—"
"Why don't you figure this out? Tell us what to do, don't make us figure it out." Erin narrows her eyes and her plump lips curled into a frown.
Dream's adam apple bobbed and he felt his anxiety slip back into his body. "I-I just want your opinions on it. What're we thinking?"
The people in the room swiftly murmured to one another, their eyes flickering and wandering all throughout the room.
"Tell us what to do. You're our boss, ain't you?" Erin scoffed.
"I-I am—"
"Then act like it."
Dream could fire her. Easily. But compared to every other sales associate, hers were up by at least 10% to the closest person, so firing her would be a stupid mistake, especially over a silly argument.
"W-Well your guys o-opinions matter too and I just—"
Erin snickered, and whispered into a boys ear who was next to her. Roger. It was Roger; Rogers grin grew slowly and low chuckled slipped from his thin, chapped lips.
"What?" Dream asked, tilting his head.
"Oh, nothing. . ." Erin smirked at Dream, her lips tinted with poison.
"Tell me. I-I don't appreciate conversations between just two people— we are a team here."
Erin flickered her eyes to Roger, who turned his head away and stared down at his sausage fingers in his laps. "It wasn't important, really."
"I'd like to know."
"Just something about a five year-old. . . it really doesn't matter."
"This is my last time asking you Erin, before consequences will be faced."
