Slipping out of bed far too early in the morning, Dream doesn't see George again until after his practice. They don't talk about it. The blond lingers in the locker room long after his team has left him, taking a little extra time in the shower that he never really bothers with. The last thing he expects when he steps out of the hot water, wrapping a towel around his waist, is to have George standing over by his locker. He raises his eyebrows, the man's head perking up as the squeak of the shower handle turning echoes throughout the room.
"Dream!" George exclaims, his eyes shamelessly raking down the blond's dripping torso. The man smiles softly, running a hand through his wet hair as he approaches him, keeping one hand tight on the towel around his waist. Yes, George has seen it before, but an accidental towel drop isn't really what he's looking for today. "Uh, I caught Sapnap on the way out he said you were still in here. I don't think I've ever seen this place so empty."
"Uh, yeah," his eyes scan over the empty room as he speaks, nodding softly, "Lots on my mind, just kinda wanted to be alone for a while. What's up?"
George's eyes seem to linger anywhere but his face, but Dream isn't complaining about the extra attention. He reaches an inked arm past George's face to open up his locker, noticing how the man doesn't shy away from the proximity. He's waiting for him to say something, but the silence hangs heavy as the brit seems to struggle to collect his words. Their faces are close together and Dream's brain almost wants to lean in and close the gap, but he holds back. Instead of escalating things the way he so desperately wants, he simply grabs his clothes out.
"Uh, I just wanted to make sure about uh, yesterday. You won't like, tell anyone, right?" George asks, his voice faltering as Dream begins to dress. Dream stutters in his movement; he'd almost forgotten. He wasn't courting George, there wasn't anything going on despite whispered confessions. This was a business relationship at best. Most importantly, it was a secret.
"Yeah, yeah, I don't really brag about trying to sleep with people and having them break down anyway, so," Dream bites, and it tastes bitter on his tongue. He doesn't mean to be so aggressive, but he needs to remind himself. His tone softens after he remembers who he's speaking to, pulling a shirt over his chest much to the visible disappointment of George. Now that is what reminds him how this really should be. He presses George against the lockers, reminding him as well. "Besides, no matter what happens, this is all fun, right? Just to try it out, huh?"
George nods, his eyes darting down to Dream's lips as his breathing hitches, "Yeah, fun."
"Your secret crisis is safe with me, princess," Dream whispers in the brunet's ear, "Just let me know if you wanna stop this. I understand if you do."
" No," the response is instant and it's halfway to a whine which makes Dream smile. Maybe it's not smart, but a line needs to be drawn. This is nothing and it needs to stay that way. However, that doesn't mean they can't still do what they came here to do. It's much better without the emotions getting in the way, that much he knows.
"George." It's careful; a warning.
"Dream." A taunt.
It's taking everything in Dream not to tear George apart right here. Sure, he's concerned for the man's well-being and his sanity, but he is but a man and with George looking at him like that it's hard to say no. He needs to be responsible here.
He pulls back, pulling his hand away from the lockers and creating space between the two of them. "I can't take advantage of you like this, I'm not gonna be the guy that helps you figure your shit out and have you end up regretting it."
"How many times do I have to tell you it's not like that?" George argues, his expression becoming one of disbelief as he crosses his arms. He takes a step forward almost as if to square up against Dream's disposition. His head falls short beneath Dream's chin, jutting his jaw forward as if he were challenging him.
Dream leans down slightly, almost joining their lips but leaving just enough space to make a point as he whispers in a low rumble, his syllables particular and calculated, "Why do you want it so bad?"
Before the semblance of an argument can continue, George surges forward and connects their lips. Dream backs up against the bench behind him, letting the brunet push him into a sitting position. His mind is racing as the blond's large hands find George's waist, pulling him onto his lap, not daring to break the kiss. George gasps as he is brought down, allowing Dream to lick into his mouth like a drowning man getting his first breath of air. The world around them melted away, stopping and starting with the lips on his. It was intoxicating; more importantly, it was dangerous. His fingertips grip the other's hips tight enough to bruise. Secretly, he hopes they do. He aches to burn his mark into George, to turn him into something tangible. That can't happen, though. Even this moment shouldn't be happening and Dream knows he needs to put an end to it before it pushes too far, before the lines they drew become fragments of memory.
This is a game they've played before and a game they'll play a million times. He pushes, George pulls. The man disconnects their lips only to attach them to Dream's neck. The blond throws his head back, giving the other more room to explore. It's intoxicating the way that George bites and sucks bruises into the other's tan skin, the feeling of it already overwhelming his senses in the best way possible. Dream brings his hand up from the man's waist, gripping his dark locks and pulling his head back so their eyes meet. George's spit-slicked lips form a cheeky grin, challenging him.
"Did you lie when you told me you'd never had your first kiss?" Dream blurts out the question before he can stop himself. It's something that's lingered on his mind the more and more confident George has gotten over the course of this thing they have going on.
George's expression shifts as he shakes his head, "No, that was all true. But I can't say I wasn't a little... excited when you offered to be my first."
The blond chuckles softly at this, leaning in and whispering in his ear, "Wanna learn something new?" A nod. "Get on your knees."
He doesn't miss the way George's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to take it back, but George complies with the instructions and slides off of Dream's lap. He misses the warmth immediately, but the other's hands find their way to grip his thighs and he's no longer complaining. The way George looks up at him with something that could only be described as doe eyes is sending all the blood in his body south and he's almost ashamed of how much he enjoys the sight beneath him. Their surroundings have melted around them, the world stopping and starting with George on his knees.
Dream looks down at him for a moment, the two of them frozen in time, and reaches his hand out to push his hair back from falling in front of his eyes. As their eyes remain connected, George reaches forward towards the tie on his shorts. Dream sucks in a breath, selfishly trying to pretend this isn't affecting him as much as it is. It seems as though the other has a read on him regardless as a soft smile plays at the corners of his lips. George's fingers dip below the waistband of his shorts and underwear, pulling them down just enough. He instinctively spreads his legs slightly, giving George more room to push himself between them. He realizes with this sight beneath him that they've come too far to stop now. He may as well give into his desires and deal with the consequences of lust.
"I forgot how big you were," George whispers breathlessly as he slowly removes one hand from Dream's thigh to wrap around his exposed cock. He has to bite back a moan at his words; his eyes slip closed and his head falls back as the other begins to pump at a leisurely pace. It's brutal, Dream's senses crying out for any increase in friction. He's only half-hard, but he knows it won't stay that way as George slowly but surely picks up the pace.
The worst part is he knows that the man is fully doing this on purpose, the faux innocence in his eyes betrayed by the corners of his lips. The innocence doesn't carry over as George leans forward, keeping his eyes on Dream's as he presses an all-too gentle kiss to the head before taking Dream in his mouth. The feeling hits him immediately as the warmth surrounds him. George looks absolutely sinful with his lips wrapped around the head of Dream's cock, slowly taking more and more of him into his mouth.
The words "don't push yourself," die on his lips as he watches the sight, his head falling back as one hand braces himself on the edge of the bench while the other grips on George's hair far too tight. George seemingly isn't complaining as he seems to go as far as he can, hollowing out his cheeks as he pulls back and swirls his tongue around the head. A deep moan falls past his lips, letting himself revel in the sensation. His grip on the bench is white-knuckled, the hand in George's hair even tighter as he begins to speed up.
" Fuck," falls past his lips. His hand on George's hair tugs him off with a sick pop, a string of spit connecting George's plush lips to the head of his cock. The sight is sinful at best and Dream wants to commit it to memory and never forget it. Their eyes meet for a brief moment before George licks a painfully slow stripe over Dream's length, wrapping his lips softly around the head. He thinks George could kill him like this; on his knees with Dream's cock in his mouth.
His inexperience scarcely shows and Dream's mind drifts back to that night at the party — the first time they had crossed that line. It's taking everything in Dream right now not to cross that line even further. Part of him wants to pull George up by his hair and take him against the lockers, but now isn't the time for that, no matter how painfully hard he is and how desperate George looks for more. Still, he's determined to let this play out.
The man pulls off once more with a cough, spit-slicked lips hanging open as he collects himself. Dream's hand that was gripping his hair shifts down to cup his jaw, running a thumb over his moistened lips. He wants to kiss him. Instead, he pushes his thumb past George's lips, watching as the man closes around it without even hesitating.
"So pretty for me," he whispers before he can stop himself. Pulling back, he withdraws his thumb and lets his hand move back to George's hair. Call it a moment of weakness.
George's hand that had been resting at the base of Dream's cock begins to stroke at a brutal pace, all means of teasing delicacy having been abandoned by both of them. This pace combined with George's tongue devilishly swirling around the head, he's dangerously close to being pushed over the edge. Maybe he's weak, but he knows that just by looking at George he likely wasn't going to last long anyway. Something about the man on his knees is simply intoxicating for Dream. He can't take the stimulation anymore, tugging George off by his hair and pulling him up, back onto his lap. George doesn't stop pumping as Dream connects their lips, almost able to taste himself in the kiss.
The brunet lets out a low moan as Dream yanks at his hair, biting and sucking down marks as he tries to hold back from letting go completely. Despite his efforts, he can't hold back any longer as he spills over George's fist, the man stroking him through his completion. Their lips disconnect with bated breath as they both come down from their lust-filled high. Dream's shirt is a mess, but he can't find it in him to care, simply pulling the fabric back over his shoulders and crumpling it up on the bench next to him. George's eyes rake down Dream's torso as he pulls his shorts back up, not moving from his place on his lap.
They sit there for a moment, Dream combing his fingers through the other's dark locks. He leans forward, letting George catch his lips in a gentle kiss as his pale hands roam Dream's tanned torso.
Finally, George crawls off of Dream's lap, wiping his mouth softly. His eyes meet Dream's as he stands over him. "I don't... I don't want to end this. Not if you don't."
Dream can't even get a response out before he's left alone in the locker room with nothing but his thoughts and a dirty t-shirt. If anyone is going to need to put a stop to this, it's going to have to be him.