Skater Boy x Football Jock
This is a part 2 to my oneshot Sk8er Boi thats really not a part two, more of a parallel. its basically Dream's side of the story. You may recognize some phrases from the original oneshot I added into this.
Anyways, Dream is probably in love with George. He's not sure. So, of course, he leaps at the chance to spend 10 minutes in a closet with him, even if it's as a dare, and even if all their friends are waiting outside. [fluff]
CW// alcohol consumption
Dream watched as George took another drink from his whiskey. His face was contorted into a small frown, his eyes unblinking. It might've been worrisome, had Dream not been loving it.
Dream watched as George seemed to drift off into his own head, eyes glazing over but staying open. He wondered what the brunet was thinking about. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know.
He might've been infatuated. It was hard to tell at the time, of course. The two had kept coming across the other's path, which was mostly Dream's fault. For example, he arranged for the college football team to practice at the green space next to the skate park George and his friends always used.
How he knew that they used it is none of your business, though.
Or he was enamored. Either or, really. Point is, he really liked George, and he wasn't quite sure why.
Maybe it was his personality. Very cliché, yes, but Dream felt it to be true. He felt drawn towards George's sarcasm, his wit, his dark humor, his brains, everything really. It felt like George was his polar opposite, and he always felt a particular connection to people like that. George was significantly stronger, however.
Maybe it was looks, though how a person looked never affected Dream's attraction. George, however... No one could argue against how attractive George was. Fluffy brown hair usually hidden beneath a beanie or a cap of some sort, deep brown eyes so dark they looked like black orbs, all glittery and secretive. Baggy jeans and skater shoes, leather jackets and necklaces, things that might be a turnoff usually fit George so well it was scary.
Maybe it was how George looked at him. How his eyes seemed to brighten. How his lips turned up in a small smile, but how his eyebrows dipped down, like he didn't want people to know he didn't hate the jock. How he always quickly glanced away when they made eye contact, too nervous to hold it.
Dream rested his chin in his hands, a smirk playing at his lips. He narrowed his eyes at George, who frowned. The staring contest ensued.
He knew George would win. His eyes were already drier than the Sahara. George was definitely more competitive than him, no matter how competitive Dream seemed. Really, he didn't care.
Finally, he gave in. George immediately pointed out that he blinked. Determined to be stubborn, he denied it. But no one can say no to George, so he let it be.
George smirked.
Dream smirked.
His gaze slowly dragged across George's face, drinking in each perfection, each flaw. He smiled at the growing color in the brunet's cheeks. George shifted.
Dream tilted his head to the side, watching George carefully. He wanted a deeper understanding of the boy across from him, but was unsure of how to get it without talking to him, which he was sure wouldn't end well. With how deep into this crush he was, he knew for sure he would stumble over his words so bad George would think he was speaking German.
George's eyes changed. Like he suddenly realized how they were looking at each other. Dream didn't care what his friends thought. They were all too drunk to care anyways, so whatever.
One of the boys sitting next to George shook him back to reality, and his lips moved. George frowned, looking almost dazed, and his lips moved too. With the pounding music elsewhere in the house, and the chatter within the circle, he couldn't hear them.
Two other boys both said something.
George said something else.
Someone called George's name.
George's eyes caught Dream's, very short lived, as he looked for who called on him. It was a rather tall man, probably in his last year of college, with a buzzed head and large muscles. He gave George his options: chugging two vodkas or the Blindfold Challenge. At that, Dream's heart skipped a beat.
He had heard of the Blindfold Challenge. It was really an absurd thing, and he never participated. If you accepted the challenge, you were sent into a room - blindfolded - and a stranger was sent in after you. Upon being given consent, this stranger was allowed to do virtually whatever they wanted. Consent was a very firm rule, however.
George looked back at him, distress clear on his face. Dream felt bad, frowning lightly. He didn't want George to do something he didn't want to, but still, he prayed George would choose the Challenge, on the off chance that he would get sent in as the stranger.
Worrying his lower lip between his teeth, George's brow furrowed. Dream gave him a look, and he glanced away, blushing madly.
He accepted the Challenge.
Dream watched as the man who asked him and one of his friends stood and led him towards a closet a few feet away. The man further explained the rules, and walked back. George's friend mumbled something, and the door was shut.
The man stood up, hands on hips. They needed someone to do it. Dream looked at the floor, face heating up. He really wanted to do it, but volunteering himself would definitely be calling himself out in more ways than one.
He didn't have to worry much as one of George's friends laughed and volunteered him himself, telling the group they were already having eye-sex moments earlier. Dream's face burned as his friends laughed and clapped him on the back.
But that's how he found himself walking over to the door, nerves chewing at his gut. He opened the door slowly, light pouring into the dark room. And there was George, blindfolded, disoriented, and standing in the middle of the small room. His arms were pulled into his chest, and he looked nervous.
The door shut.
Dream's eyes weren't used to the darkness, as expected. He leaned against the door, mind spinning. He was actually in a closet with George, about to kiss him, if he was given consent.
George asked who was in front of him.
Dream replied that he couldn't answer.
But him replying was enough. He knew that George knew by that point.
Dream stepped closer, heart hammering. George stepped back, bumping into a shelf of cleaning supplies. Dream reached out, fingers brushing George's. He didn't flinch away, so Dream linked their fingers together, holding their hands to his chest. George's breathing grew heavier.
Dream whispered in hushed tones. Consent was given. He felt his cheeks warm as George looked up, as if asking for him to do it already.
He raised his hands to cup George's jaw, and brushed the hair away from the blindfold covering George's eyes. Hesitantly, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against George's forehead, gently.
Then he sucked in a deep breath and tried to console his racing heart.
Forget oxygen. Forget anything other than George.
He tasted like adrenaline. Something achieved only by those worthy, but Dream felt like he was anything but. Yet at the same time, he was so much more than anyone else. Kissing George was like everything triumphant and everything good.
He felt George begin to slump against the shelf behind him. He pulled away, lungs begging for air, when he wanted nothing but to kiss George over and over.
The brunet wrapped his arms around Dream's neck, begging to be held up just a bit longer. The action alone caused a desire to bubble up in Dream's mind, threatening to control his movements. But he forced it away.
He pulled away once more, but didn't immediately kiss him again. The two breathed heavily for a few seconds, trying to catch their breaths.
Cautiously, Dream reached behind George's head, where the tie for the blindfold was. George made a strangled noise, and the blindfold fell away.
George was so much prettier up close.
His eyes seemed to glitter with lust and secrets, secrets Dream wanted to listen to as they were lying in bed together, arm draped over George's waist after a long day of doing whatever they wanted together. Secrets Dream wanted to learn off by heart, just so he could know more about the brunet.
A hand was raised, Dream caressed George's jaw, his other hand dropping to George's waist. He kissed the underside of his jaw, murmuring every word he had been dying to speak, every word he wanted to say, since he first lay eyes on him.
Dream's quiet words spoiled George rotten as he savoured each one. Each kiss was a key pressed to a lock, making sure no one else would find the words, no one but George.
Whatever he was feeling was nearly indescribable. A medley of everything good, everything victorious, everything happy. Finally, he was truly happy.
Suddenly, a quiet alarm split through the silence like a knife cuts through a watermelon. [dont judge the analogy] Dream sighed, defeated, and pulled away from George, his hand still remaining on George's waist. His brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, nearly blinding him.
In the corner of his eye, George leaned against the shelves, looking like a model, only so much prettier. His hand drifted to his neck, connecting the marks dotting his skin.
Disappointed, he looked back up at George. Time was up. They would be coming to check on them any second. George knelt down to pick up the blindfold as Dream slid his phone back into his pocket. As he tied the blindfold over his eyes, Dream adjusted George's collar to hide the faint marks. He then pressed another kiss to George's lips, desperate to win another 10 minutes with him.
Dream opened the door, shutting it gently behind him. His friends whooped as they spotted him, and George's friends snickered. He sat down, smiling as his friends clapped him on the back and congratulated him, obviously not caring about how weird the notion of congratulating something like that was.
The door creaked open again, and George walked out, pulling the blindfold off once more. He sat down in his spot, ignoring his friends. Immediately, his eyes found Dream's, pink already blooming in his cheeks.
Staring contest? Dream mouthed, smiling shyly.
Across the circle, George only smirked.
Word Count 1805
~A/N~
im back
school is a nightmare istg, plus i got my computer taken away so im kinda just on it even tho im supposed to be in bed... whatever, its early.
in case you didnt know, this is the first ive published in, like, over a month, because i havent really been in a fantastic mental place. really, im still not, but when are we ever. its fine.
im gonna try to ease back into publishing, so this is a start :D
anyways i wrote this in art class so if its awful, im sorry. idek why i chose to do this but it seemed cool in my head.
k i gotta go im scared my dad will yell at me if he catches me ;-;
love you guys <33
also we hit 11k reads on this!!! tysm!!! <3333
song that reminds me of this oneshot: Complicated by Avril Lavigne