"I wish I could show you more of yourself."
Tangerine
Glass Animals
"I don't like him."
"I never said you had too," Quackity looked out amongst the glass in the Lumi sector's headquarters and caught a lip of neon paint in passing. Smeared over George's cheek, the man grinned and followed Dream through a crowd of writhing bodies and spilling drinks. "Beat him in the race for all I care, I only want the attention off our backs. We've had way too many unwarranted visits from groups who are borderline enemies because of him."
Foolish scoffed and leaned back against his slow color changing chair. Quackity couldn't stand the obnoxious look of this sector but the creator left. And no matter how many times he's tried to change the order they revert back to her ways.
"Dream has always been a type of animosity to the racing community."
"With George here he's an even greater fiend." Quackity looked fondly towards his friends under flashing lights and teeth shown laughs. "Not to mention the love story scandal that's been circling like the plague. Since Final Flame, I've had fifteen offers from expensive magazines and reporters to give a story on the fallen golden boy. The heir to a near billion dollar company gone rogue."
Foolish giggled, "Surprised you didn't sell out."
"And get all of Las Nevadas arrested for a front page tabloid? Hell no."
"I see, I see." The other mad sat up and adjusted the shark pin biting into his overdressed lapel. "What about another race?"
"It'd have to be bigger than Final Flame. We need talk."
Foolish stood and finished his glass of amber liquid, "It doesn't need talk. It needs a new victor and a tragic downfall."
Immediately shaking his head, Quackity said, "No deaths."
"Course not," a friendly slap landed over Quackity's shoulder while the other laughed tightly. "We'll need something believable though. An explosion, a minor crash..." they both looked out the window and watched George giggle at something Dream whispered in his ear, "a breakup."
Quackity didn't want to get in the middle of that toxic realization, but he'd do whatever he needed to in order to keep Las Nevadas alive. He'd done it once he'd do it again.
Just below the building Quackity and Foolish watched Dream spinning George around. Hot hands seeped into the more revealing top George was forced to put on due to his fall into the watering hole. Dream wasn't going to complain seeing this much skin exposed to him and George was slowly becoming comfortable with it if his boyfriend kept touching him like that.
With his thumb and index finger pressed together, Dream ran an imaginary penny over George's exposed stomach. Looping around his left hip under the black lights and pulsating LEDs, Dream could feel every exhale his boyfriend released. The slow, the fast, the short, the hitches, it was like ecstasy bottled up and released on touch. A grip to his flank and George dropped his head against Dream's neck. Damp hair meeting sweaty damp skin, lovers in the wrong, Dream nosed down his skin through the mask. Fabric scratching over delicate ivory and tattooed color.
"I wanna show you something."
"Show me what?" George was too inthralled in the way the lights danced across his arms to be too invested in Dream's implication.
"There's a place here," George tilted chin to see Dream speak even if it was beneath fabric, "that'll fulfill your...impatience."
George immediately pulled away to gaze at him completely, panicked. It was one thing to joke about their sexual adventures, but actually experiencing it was another thing entirely. It was real. George didn't know if he was completely ready for it, even if he did agree.
Dream laced their fingers together and said, "You can say no."
George opened his mouth to protest.
"But only after you see where I'm taking you. Then you give me a color. Yes?"
He looked away and felt that the lights were starting to hurt a deep part of his brain when they flashed. So, he nodded and replied, "Yes."
Just after spinning him for a smile, Dream took George's hand and escorted him around people. The Lumi sector was once a rich city turned shady by the drugs sold between buildings. George observed that these buildings were still intact for something so called 'shady'.
Behind the main building was an open street of mostly bars, food facilities, and strip clubs. George frowned at the sight of them, he still grew up with a closed mindset and remembered how he was taught they were distasteful. Being caught at one with his identity could ruin the company, ruin his life essentially. None of that mattered so much now but old habits die hard.
They didn't walk into a strip club, this place was called Glass Windows but ironically didn't have a single window on the building. At the door a man started talking to Dream while George eagerly tempted to peek through the door but failed when a bouncer shut it after the last customer's entrance. He frowned at the guy who didn't spare him even a remote glance. He huffed.
"George."
"What?" Startled, both eyes shot over to the man conversing with Dream. He was a taller guy, warm arms built beneath a company shirt with tight rung curls on his head. He held a hand out and George was fully taking him in now. He knew him... from where? Who knows, he'd met thousands of people through his father's company, but something about him was familiar. Letting his hand be stamped with ink he asked, "Do I know you?"
The man looked up at him, blue eyes locked on brown, his stance stiffened. Shoulders taunt and bright and a brief recognition ran through his eyes. It was almost as if George imagined it with how fast it slipped through his face.
"No, I don't think you do." He gestured to the door, "Enjoy."
George wanted to say more but Dream pressed his hand gently over his ass to urge him further in and he remembered why they were here. Where 'here' was became his top priority to understand because what George eyed as they entered a dark room wasn't something he could believe.
It was like a show room filled with expensive settees and couches and chairs and people. Several people. Moving around like shadows in the dark, they writhed against each other. Music played but they weren't dancing. George felt his face flush at the sudden awareness at what was happening around him.
"Dream." Dream huffed a laugh and urged him forward. George didn't budge. Too shocked at the display's right in front of him. It was crass. Odious. Blatant indecency even under the black lighting, he caught glimpses of private attention when lights flashed over certain areas. Skin. "No."
"We're not staying in here," Dream's hands raised to his waist encouraging him forward. "Your flush is in your ears, breath."
"I'm closing my eyes." In his right ear George could feel Dream's laugh more than hear it. Reaching up, nimble fingers latched on to the mask string and pulled it free. It was dark and no one was paying attention to anyone other than themselves. Dream kissed his cheek and urged him past a pair coupling against each other on a settee. "This is weird."
"This room is a little much, even for me."
Helpless to his voice, his touch, George allowed Dream to lead him into damnation. With both eyes closed he tried not to look at the fornication happening at every corner of his sight. The sounds filtering beneath the music was enough to make him naturally rouge, seeing it wasn't necessary.
The walk to a new section didn't take long but felt significantly less musky. Less air respired between lovers. Here the air was biting and the lights dimmed as they entered. They came to a stop at a glass door with the number 300. Dream stopped in front of him and tilted his head like he was trying to assess what damage the first half of this walk had done.
"How about now?"
George ventured out with one eye, peeking into the air ready to snap it closed at any second. When he didn't glimpse one single naked body he relaxed and dropped both shoulders. There was still an odd hum of tension in his body, but he knew what that was and he had to be out of his mind to be feeling it now. Like a ray of sunshine Dream smiled down at him.
"What's behind the door?"
"A small glass room. There's a show set on a small stage where you can be seen while seeing them. In our room we can control the walls. Make them reflect, make them transparent, make them partially transparent, or make them one sided. It's this sector's thing, tech. They are where we get a lot of the Las Nevadas technology."
"You want to put me in a glass box," he couldn't breathe, "like they did in Final Flame?"
Dream's expression was blank, quietly he said, "Essentially yes."
George's skin went cold with betrayal, "No."
"The door opens, it stays unlocked."
"No."
"And you can leave at any-" George was about to storm back through that horrid sex room and march himself all the way back to the car when Dream gripped his hand. It was gentle despite his passive apathy. "I want to rewrite your memory, George. Erase it with something better. I want to try."
"So you want me to what? Let you fuck me in front of people in a glass box." Throwing the touch off like he'd been scorned, George shook his head. "You've lost your goddamn mind if you think that's something I'll do."
With his back turned George fumed.
Then Dream said, "Tell me it doesn't intrigue you."
He abruptly stopped, chest tight, jaw even tighter, he didn't know what he was feeling. Fear, hatred, lust? Heavy arms tucked firm around his ribs, he squeezed to get a grip of himself.
"Tell me why this place makes you want to leave so fast?" Dream's voice was like a siren, drawing him in to drown him. To consume him. "Is it because this place actually scares you? That going into this room actually makes you want to claw your way out or is it because it scares you in a different way."
George huffed but didn't dare turn around. He wouldn't give Dream the fucking satisfaction of being on the right path of his fucked up brain.
"Does it scare you because it's actually something you've considered?" He hummed as if he was amused. Dream was finding this entertaining. Fuck him. "Even while telling me 'no' you're thinking about it. You're still thinking about it now, Daredevil."
"How the fuck would you know, lover boy?"
"George," it was like a heavy demand. Dream's voice dropped low enough to leave goosebumps running rampant over delicate skin. He shivered unintentionally. "If I am wrong why haven't you left yet. You've done it before, leaving when you disagree. You are capable."
Glaring down at his feet George cursed them for not obeying his need to leave now. He couldn't go because... because he didn't understand why. He simply couldn't. George wanted Dream, always has and always will, but does he want him like this? That dark voice settled somewhere in the corner of his mind whispered yes.
This was against all of his old morals, the ones burned into his brain by his parents. Hell, walking in this place broke those morals. Taking part of this would be solidifying his exile from the family name. And maybe that was intriguing. Or maybe it was because Dream was offering him a way to participate in this quietly, showing him something new. Giving him an ultimatum. He didn't know.
"Face it, you know I'm right."
"You," George turned sharply and found Dream simply gazing at him, "are an arrogant ass. Why are you acting like this."
Dream rolled his eyes and leaned his back against the door, "Because you want me to."
"When did I say that?"
Dipping his chin, Dream let out a near callous laugh. A hand pointed at George, miscalculated by his frustration. "You don't want me to baby you like I apparently do now, but you don't want me to act like we used to, which was toxic as hell. So, what do you want, George?"
He grit his jaw and scuffed his shoe into the dark sparkled carpet, "I do not know."
"The only way we will work out is if you talk to me." George knew that, it was just fucking hard to achieve. "Tell me what you want."
Fuck him, "Green light."
That shattered Dream's apathy. It sunk into concern, then worry, before finally settling into something heated. Heavy, he didn't move, "To what? State it specifically."
"To... to this." A frantic hand gestured behind Dream's back. "I just... I'm interested. Green."
Dream's only reply was an offered hand. No words other than an action of reassurance. George trusted Dream with his life so trusting him now was no different it was more or less what he was trusting him with.
The room felt nothing like the display at Final Flame. For one it was dark, and two it was close to people in the same exact room a good space away. Most were fully clothed either talking or kissing while others were slowly discarding garments. George averted his eyes and heard Dream chuckle at him.
"Some people don't care about showing that kind of thing in public." George walked around the large couch in the middle of the room to come up to the edge of the glass window as Dream explained behind him. "It's a weird kink, Voyeurism. It's never been my favorite but you seemed so shocked that it happens I wanted to explore it with you."
"I grew up sheltered," he scoffed, placing a hand flat on the glass wall. "Even watching... those kinds of videos made me uncomfortable."
"Course they did." As Dream took a seat behind him, George felt himself slipping. It was flashes of the past coming through in tiny lips. Fire. Dream bleeding. Yelling. Sirens. The rope biting into his wrists as he watched a death race through a tiny box. "Take a deep breath."
George obeyed and pulled his hand from the wall. "They kept me in that display for so long I thought I'd never escape it. Or that you wouldn't make it to the end of the race alive."
"And what about it scares you now?"
George shrugged, "That it will happen again. That I'll wake up and still be stuck in that box. And sometimes it's not even that, it's my parents. They put me on display in their own way."
In front of him the lights dimmed completely leaving only the stage lights in front of them and the little LEDs in the room to illuminate the room. George took a glance around the large arena looking room they were in and found everyone whispering, pointing, and gesturing to them. He straightened his shoulders.
"I believe we might be the center of attention."
Dream hummed nonsensical and prudent, "I'm one of their leaders, without my mask not to mention, in this room with my boyfriend. It means a lot for me as well, you know, not just you. This is miles out of my comfort zone."
George smirked, "Didn't think you had a comfort zone."
Ignoring him, Dream said, "Your ass looks good in those pants."
"You're," he huffed and turned to face a blank expression. Sprawled out, Dream let his arms hang over the back of the couch and tilted his head to the right. Only the way his eyes raked over George's body was the indication of care, of lust. "You're flirting."
"Am I?"
"Dream," he chuckled through a breath.
"George," it was a taunt. He looked away and concealed the sheer attraction running wild between them. It was still consuming, toxic, hot, and sometimes George couldn't handle it. Now he was resisting it purposely.
Two people stepped onto the stage. A man with cut muscles and ivory skin. George felt his mouth go dry when he realized this man was completely naked. Then a woman stepped up onto the stage. Gorgeous brown skin and curly hair, George was enamored and completely scandalized all in one go. She was also stark naked and George realized this might be worse than watching it on the internet, this was a show. One revolving around fornication.
"This is discreditable."
"Are you slut shaming?" His voice became lighter but the hot gaze on George's back didn't relent.
"No."
"I would hope not, as you are discreditable for me every other night."
"Dream-"
The grin slowly etched over pretty lips as he stood to approach George, "On your knees. On your back. Trying to be quiet while I take you apart in the house."
George dropped his head against a stern shoulder as hot hands burned over his hips. He was being coaxed into this, in timed intervals, and it was working. With words his libido was starting to rise and override his clear mind.
"Telling me where to move, putting me in my place." A tiny controller made its way between George's limp fingers. He was out of breath and Dream hadn't even kissed him yet. "The first button makes the room one sided. We can see them they can't see us."
As he spoke, kisses started to appear on the right side of his neck. His cheekbone first then his chin until a gasp released at his tender neck. "The second button makes it semi-clear. With the third we can only see ourselves, it's a mirror. And the last makes it normal walls. That part is up to you."
"What do you want to do to me?" Dream's hand came up to angle George's chin tilting his gaze to landon the display. The man was kissing the woman with hands hidden between body's. George looked away.
His voice hushed close to George's ear, "Anything you want, Daredevil."
"Fine." With the thoughts of Final Flame gone with the actions George detached himself from Dream's grasp. Sauntering back to the couch he sat down slowly and mimicked the position Dream was in prior to this push and pull. With arms on the back of the couch he spread his knees outward. Cheeks burning from the show and the audience in small rooms behind Dream. "I want you on your knees."
Dream grinned, hands placed placidly behind his back, "I don't kneel in front of anyone, did you know that, George? Especially not when we're the center of attention."
With a shrug he canted his head, "First time for everything I guess."
It earned him a misplaced smile. Fond and beautiful, Dream walked over to press an eager kiss to George's lips. Like a breath of fresh air, he dug tight fingers through familiar strands and hummed at the pressure used for this kiss. Just before he was ready to deepen it, Dream pulled away and kissed down his body. Over his clothes and down to the zipper of his pants, the pressure to his unattended need made him gasp. That was when it all came crashing down, they were in front of people. These people were watching. He glanced up and stiffened after eyeing a couple whispering about them.
As much as this was a show of Dream on his knees, George was the one indecent.
In a lingering bout of irony he said, "I'm on display."
Calloused hands pulled George's gaze back down, "don't look at them, look at me."
"Dream."
"Look," he pulled his hand back and dipped his head down. Pants unzipped and boxers shucked down to reveal his clear arousal, "at me."
Who else would he look at if he could even keep his eyes open? Dream had his hand on him, then his tongue, even his eyes bore into his own. It had never been this heightened between them. There was an extra edge with the atmosphere. He dropped the remote to the room when Dream took him in his mouth, if they were going to do this they'd do it all the way. Let them look. Let them see who owned who.
"Faster," George demanded. A hand dove right into the stressed blonde hair and let Dream bob over him. The man was good at this, he always had been. Using his tongue on just the right spot below the tip, George dropped his head back against the couch and let Dream's name fall from his lips continually.
Dream worked him faster, a hand aiding his ministrations. George could barely breathe with the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Like a fuzzy soda drink being shaken he bubbled. The obscene sounds coming from not only Dream, but his own voice, echoed off the glass walls painting damning pictures of seduction. He panted when Dream pulled off. An edge never met.
"How am I doing?"
George grit his teeth at that sly grin and said, "you only get praise if you make me finish." He tugged on Dream's hair to angle his smirk towards him.
Chuckling, Dream spat back, "wouldn't expect anything less from you."
Then he took George all the way down his throat and coaxed a climax out of him. Gripping Dream's neck he let his vision white out and his body go lax against the pristine couch. Working him through it, Dream snaked another hand shameless down to his jeans and pulled himself free. Exhausted George watched Dream finish himself off. Pretty green eyes disappearing behind gentle eyelids a second later. Lip between his teeth. George smiled.
Dream eyed him breathless and curious as he reached for tissues in a drawer beneath the couch.
"Are you blissed out?"
Moving his tingling thighs he said, "possibly."
Reaching for the remote, Dream clicked a button and sent the walls into silence. They turned into opaque drywall and stubbed out their spotlight like and old cigarette. George was grateful he no longer had to watch the display of pretty people.
"How bad was that? One being the worst ten being the best."
George only had eyes for Dream as the post climatic clarity came crashing through. The man lent back on the floor with warm hands and caught his breath beneath George's gentle gaze. Lovers. The word felt fond as George thought about it. Boyfriend's felt like a solace.
"Six," he replied. "I don't want to have people watch all of the time. But I won't object to it if they come up in this context again."
"Okay." Dream took only a second before pouting and letting his true colors shining through since they were alone. The big bad co-leader of Las Nevadas was soft, who knew. George held out a hand for him to take. Maybe he enjoyed towering over the blond like this, for a moment at least. Leaning over to hiss in his ear.
"Stop fucking pouting."
"Was I good or not?"
George pulled him up by the collar for a sated kiss, "yes, Loverboy."
Dream kissed him on the forehead as a response, "I know, I just wanted to hear you say it."
George scoffed and felt his heart swell uncontrollably.
A/N
Everyone blame the book Neon Gods by Katee Robert for this certain...exploration. She made it seem hot I was like pfft I could write that concept.
Anyway who's ready to meet the love interest next chapter. 😅
Thank you for reading 💚