"Stop moaning, you fucking idiot!" Sapnap throws a pen at his best friend, who remains unbothered on his desk, sulking deeper into it instead. He groans louder, earning an exasperated breath from the younger.
Dream can't help it. Can't help thinking about his hair, his hands, his smile, and worst of all, his damn vanilla scent. It drives Dream crazy, and he sighs loudly, much to his best friend's dismay.
"Fucking get over it!" the shorter man seethes, kicking the desk.
"You act like it's so easy." Dream runs his hands down his face, tired. "And don't fucking kick my desk."
"I'll kick it whenever I want to."
"You're fired."
"Okay, don't actually—" Sapnap pauses, then rolls his eyes. "Just ask him out. What's the problem?"
"The problem is, Sapnap, that I'm the fucking CEO of this company, and Geo— he's chief of finance. Finance, Nick. I'll look like a narcissistic entitled asshole and an unprofessional prick."
"And you'd make him look bad too."
Dream makes a face. "Who's side are you on?"
"Look, Dream. No one gives a shit. Date whoever you want. I guarantee no one will bat an eye."
The blond sinks in his seat. "You make it sound like I have a chance."
"You do. You're just too fucking stubborn!"
"Hey, uh, Mr. D— got something for you from Finance," Foolish peeks his head in the head's office, his entrance unannounced but not unwelcome, being Dream's assistant after all. But, despite that fact, the CEO stares at the documents, forlorn.
"Give it to me, Foolish. Dream here's in a bit of a mood." Sapnap reaches out for the papers and gracefully accepts it, much to his best friend's dismay.
"I'm not surprised. Can't wait 'til he finds out it's from George, too."
Dream blanches. "Get out of my office."
A gulp. "Yes, sir."
Foolish shuts the door immediately, not wasting any time. Sapnap sighs, turning over the pages of their financial statement as of the month of December.
"Blah blah blah, finance jargon, millions here and there, a letter from— oh. Oh shit."
The older sits up. "What?"
"There's no fucking way."
"What? What is it?"
Sapnap laughs, clutching at the papers as his eyes scan over the same page repeatedly. Dream makes a move to grab the paper, but the other is quick to move away from his reach and hollers, reading the statement out loud.
"'Thank you for the wonderful Christmas bonus, I'd love to give a gift of my own sometime too, sir.' And he fucking added a winky face, oh my god!"
That makes Dream jump from his seat, tearing the paper away from the shorter's hands. He scans the paper with vigor, hands shaking at the words of the Brit, until he sees the final line.
;)
He is going to die.
"Hello? Earth to Dream?"
Dream is frozen, documents stuck in his hold as he rereads all the words until they're burned into his mind. And when he inhales, he knows he's far more gone than he realizes.
"He broke you. George actually broke you."
"The paper smells like vanilla."
"What is that, some kink of yours?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"How is that not enough? Why aren't you running to the man and plowing his ass right now?"
Dream raises a middle finger at his friend, eyes still trained on the document at hand. Sapnap scoffs, watching the freckled man go over the multiple page document with eyes like a hawk. After a few seconds, green eyes widen.
"There's a mistake in the withdrawals."
"How the fuck would you know?"
"I just do. Move."
Dream doesn't wait and pushes his friend aside, walking out of his office in long strides. Foolish leans in to check in on Sapnap, curious, and the other rolls his eyes before trailing behind their boss.
As the friend rightly assumes, Dream stops before he arrives at the elevator, hesitant to press the down button.
"You know you're doing Foolish's job, right?"
Dream ignores him, tapping his foot a couple of times before mumbling 'fuck it' and hitting the button. Sapnap crosses his arms, amused.
"Someone grew a pair today."
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"What? What? Nothing, I'm just being supportive of my best friend!"
Dream glares at him through the reflection of the elevator.
"...who has a big gay crush on—"
The taller grips the arm of the other, eyes wide. "Can you not? People will hear."
"Hear what they already know? No doubt."
The Florida native pushes his grip off his roommate when the lift arrives with a ding, the two stepping inside with a huff. Sapnap is smug all throughout the ride down, and when the doors open, he swears he sees the other drop an ounce of sweat through his veridian jacket.
This is gonna be good.
He stays behind when Dream walks up to George's office, back noticeably straighter and a hand running through his blond locks. Sapnap almost snorts.
"Hi, um,"
Brown eyes lock with green, and the taller freezes, paper in hand. Come on Dream, not now.
"Hi, good afternoon?" George raises a questioning eyebrow, and then eyes the documents in the hands of the other. "Something wrong?"
"Um. Yeah. You, you—" Dream clears his throat, "There's a mistake in the, uh, withdrawals."
"Unlikely," Dream's heart jumps at the confidence of the brunet, and he continues, "everything was listed properly."
"I forgot to mention that I, um, made this payment on December sixteenth under my name, not the company's."
George motions for the paper, and Dream carefully hands it to him, their small skin-to-skin contact causing shivers to run down the taller's spine. The Brit doesn't seem to notice, but his assistant Callahan, who followed them in, does, eyeing the CEO suspiciously. Dream stares back but eventually darts his eyes away, awkward.
Punz walks up beside Sapnap, cups of coffee for the both of them in hand. "Is he finally asking him out?"
"Pfft. He's too much of a pussy to do it, let alone in front of all his employees." The shorter takes the cup, bringing it to his lips.
"I think he'll do it before Christmas."
Sapnap scoffs. "You mean today? No shot."
"You think?"
"Yeah. They'll fuck it out at new years, latest."
"50 dollars says Christmas."
"No way. A 100 for new years. There's just no way."
"Bet."
The two shake on it, then refocus their attention back on the scene in front of them.
"I guess this one doesn't make sense, it's too small of a payment." George scans over the paper a final time before dropping it and speedily typing on his computer. "I'll get the new one up soon, Callahan will send it to Foolish."
Dream is distracted by vanilla once more, almost forgetting to reply. "Alright."
"You didn't have to come here, you know. That's Foolish's job."
Dream hears a snort behind him, and he makes a mental note to strangle his friend when they get back to their shared home.
"I know. I just— I wanted to, I guess."
"Wanted to, what?" See you.
"I mean, do it myself, you know. Why bother Foolish, he's probably doing some things for me right now."
Callahan furrows his eyebrows at the statement, because obviously that's Foolish's job, and Dream pointedly ignores the man.
"Well, okay, I'll have it sent up soon."
Dream nods. "Okay."
"Anything else, sir?"
Red takes over his tan features, and he shakes his head. "That's all, thanks."
"What did you buy, anyway?"
The question causes even more blood to rush up to his face, so Dream turns on his heel, distracted and suddenly in a hurry. "Something of personal use. I need that document by the end of the day, Davidson." The stern tone catches George off guard, and he nods, watching the CEO step out without another word.
And Dream's out of the office immediately, not bothering to beckon Sapnap to follow him back to the elevator as all eyes were on him. Sapnap smirks through his cup of coffee. Easiest hundred bucks he'll ever win.
The office is cleared out by the end of the day, many returning home to their families for the Christmas weekend. Dream stays behind on the premise that he'd arrive home before his mom finishes cooking their Christmas eve dinner, where he plans to just chill, watch a movie with Sapnap, and sleep through the night. A weekend with his mind off work for once.
He shuts down his computer with speedy clicks, watching the light disappear in the dim of his office as he reaches for his suit jacket, ready to leave when he hears a knock on his door. Foolish must be leaving as well.
"Merry Christmas, Foolish, I'll see you Monday." He announces, buttoning on his jacket and straightening his hair until he realizes that someone had entered the room, unannounced once more.
"Foolish, you really should speak before you enter, I'm—"
"Hi, sir, the papers you wanted?"
He drops his hold on his hair when he recognizes the voice. "Geo– Davidson, what are you still doing here?"
"Just wanted to give you the final document," George smiles, handing the paper to the taller.
Dream instantly feels sweat under his collar. There's a comment at the back of his mind about George doing Callahan's job, but he holds back his tongue.
He's alone with George. He has a chance to not mess things up.
"Thanks," Dream nods, taking the paper and pretending to read through it, only really looking to see if the winky face is still intact. To his pleasure it still is, boosting his confidence by a margin.
And so, he tries to make conversation. "Any plans for tonight?"
The brunet looks up from his dress shoes. "Hm?"
"For Christmas eve."
"Oh, not really, just want to sleep in honestly."
"Sounds like a good plan, I actually was thinking of doing the same."
George smiles, taking a step towards the full wall windows. "You know, you never answered my question earlier. Not properly, anyway."
Dream sets down the document on the table, back pressing on the sturdy wood. "What question?"
"What did you buy?"
Rose tints Dream's cheeks, and he turns to his desk as if he's preoccupied. "I did answer, and I said it was personal. Now if you excuse me, I—"
"There's not a lot of things for personal use that you can get for 15 dollars, sir."
Dream grips at his table, eyes closing. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying, sir," the shorter turns, back lit by the moonlight, "that it seems like you planted that mistake on purpose."
The taller scoffs at George's suggestion, incredulous. He walks behind his desk, thighs leaning on his drawer. "And your winky face was intentional too."
George raises his eyebrows. "So you noticed."
"It wasn't very subtle."
"I could say the same with your… problem down there."
Fuck. "Davidson, don't—"
"You're allowed to call me George, you know. It's just us." He takes a step forward. "Alone."
Dream blushes a deeper shade of red and hopes it's not clear in the dark. "I'm— I can't—"
George giggles, taking a few more steps. "You're very cute when you're flustered. But then again, when you're yourself, leading us, your company?" He lowly moans. "It's hot. So, fucking hot."
Dream's breaths quicken, overwhelmed by the words of the other. George is now at his foot, lips just inches away.
"You know, I've been thinking about this— this thing we have. The stolen glances, the flirting on paper, the way you undress me with your eyes in board meetings." Dream flushes even further at the statement, as if it were even possible at this point. George's lips perk up into a sly smile. "I was afraid people would see me as some sort of a gold digger, but I find that I just don't care."
He teases his fingers on the bulge of the other, brown eyes locked on green.
"Not when you look at me like this."
"George," Dream whispers, leaning in, their noses touching.
"Sir—"
"Can I— Can I kiss you?"
"Yes, please,"
Dream surges forward, connecting their lips, and holy shit, fucking finally.
George wraps his arms around the taller's neck, leaning into the kiss with his weight and gaining access to combing through blonde locks. Dream sighs lowly at this, kissing deeper and licking the other open until their tongues slide in unison.
George steps in the gap between the other's thighs, moaning when he feels the other's member rub against his own, begging to be released.
"You," Dream breaks the kiss, "can call me Dream, you know. Or Clay. I don't care."
Dream surges at his neck, leaving dark, possessive, marks on pale skin.
"I— I know, but you seem to— to like it when I call you sir."
"Fuck, say that again,"
"Sir," George moans into his ear, "sir,"
"Such a good boy," Dream whispers back, and George shivers at the praise, leaving marks of his own on tan skin.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted this, George. You have no idea."
George brings rough hands on his own, pushing them down his pants.
"Show me, sir."
Dream captures their lips once more before making his way to unzip the shorter's trousers, making it work to push the pieces of clothing off and on the ground, underwear in tow. George does the same with Dream's, the process tedious when they both decide to kick off their shoes and socks as well as their dress shirts and suit jackets, now lost in an unknown location.
George kicks Dream's office chair back, pushing the CEO down and following on his lap, both backs arching when their dicks make contact. Dream wraps a hand around the both of them, teasing their leaking heads and lustfully grinding against one another, desperate for friction.
"You're so hot, baby, so tiny in my hands, look."
"Sir," George whines, embarrassed, hiding his face in the crook of the other's neck as he continues pumping. "Please."
"Be patient, baby, let me take my time with you and your pretty little dick."
George whines once more, his sounds accompanied by moans as Dream speeds up his movement between the two of them. The dryness of his hand does numbers on George's brain, but Dream has other plans.
"I'll tell you what I bought, baby, since you've been so good,"
George nods, eyes lost in the thrusting motion of the other's fist. "Mmh?"
"You smell like vanilla, I smell it every time I'm around you, and it drives me nuts. I had to—" he opens the drawer beside them with his freehand, grabbing the prized object before slamming the container back shut. "I just had to get the perfect one, for when I think of you."
Dream pops open the lubricant and squeezes the substance on both of their members, earning a collective moan from both men as the cool liquid increases the speed of Dream's pulls. Not only that, but Dream fucks his hand to the thought and scent of George.
Holy shit, that's hot.
He fucking whines at the thought, capturing Dream in another kiss.
"That's so— that's so hot, sir. Sir, faster, please go faster, sir."
"Yeah, keep calling me that, baby. Shit—"
"Sir, your cock is so huge, sir, it's— it was made for me, sir, to pound me, to fuck me until I can't walk, sir!"
"Shit, shit, shit!"
Dream stops pulling at their dicks in place of slicking up George's hole, only to find it already slightly stretched and ready for him.
"Did you…" Dream presses a finger in, whine barely noticeable from the other. "Baby, did you—?"
"When you give me orders, your voice just, gets so low and hot, and I just—"
"Fuck, George, baby—"
"Sir, I fucked myself thinking of your big cock in me. I— I knew you'd fill me up so good, paint me with your cum, sir, I want it so bad!"
"You—" He pumps a few more fingers in to test the stretch, finding his hole to be slick but tight. "You slut, fucking yourself to the thought of me, just floors above you."
George preens at the degrading, rutting his ass against long fingers. "You, you— you were doing the same, sir, you were fucking your fist, wishing it was my ass, sir."
Dream moans. "Brat."
"Sir, please, I want you in me so bad, sir!"
"Shit— shit, baby, you fucking whore, " He carries the boy, lining his hole up with his hardness. "Baby, tell me you want me."
"Sir, please, I want you, I want you so, so, bad— Please, fuck me!"
And so, Dream does.
The uniting of their middles pushes all the air out of their lungs. George whines at the intrusion, but Dream kisses him for comfort, whispering sweet nothings as he slowly but surely gains his rhythm. George keeps his arms around the other's neck as Dream spreads George's ass apart, bouncing him up and down his dick in the process. They grow breathless in their kisses as Dream speeds up his thrusts, desperate to find their release.
"You're so tight baby, even after getting ready for me. So fucking good for me, my personal fuck toy."
"Sir— oh, god sir, please, you're so big, you fill me up so good,"
"Tell me what you thought of me earlier, baby. Don't be shy— fuck,"
Skin slaps on skin as George struggles to breathe, let alone think. "I thought of you fucking me over your desk, calling me names while I call you sir. Or, against the window for the city to see, in the darkness like this, letting the world see just how well you fuck me, sir!"
Dream groans, thrusts quickening at each statement. "Fuck, baby, that's so hot— you're such a slut, such a fucking whore,"
And when Dream finds his sweet spot, George cries, "Only for you, sir!"
"Only for me, baby. Fuck, fuck—" He pushes up faster, pulling at George's locks, the smaller moaning in tandem with each strike on his prostrate. George rides Dream like there's no tomorrow, throwing his head back as Dream leaves more marks for him to see, jerking his dick in the process.
"Gonna cum, baby? Gonna come for sir? Have you been a good boy?"
"Yes, yes, yes, sir, I've been so good, please let me come, sir!"
"I'm so close, baby, bounce on my cock, just like that, fuck!"
"Come with me, sir— daddy, breed me!"
The sudden nickname change catches Dream off guard, pushing him off the edge and marking George's insides with his seed. Only a few seconds later does George follow, the sounds of squelching not slowing down as George milks Dream's cock. The blond laughs as he pumps the last bit of cum out of George, bringing it up to his lips to taste and smirking at the blushing George on his lap.
"Who knew vanilla could taste so good?"
"Shut the fuck up, sir."
"Change that to daddy and I just might make one of those fantasies of yours come true by the window over there."
George whines, hiding in the taller's shoulder once more as he rubs comforting circles on his pale shoulder blades. "I'd want that. So bad. But next time."
Dream smiles. Next time.
"Do you… do you wanna meet my mom?"
Tensing up, George pushes Dream away. "Hey now, take me out on a date first!"
"No, oh my god, it's just that she made Christmas dinner and you're not spending Christmas with anyone so I just thought that you might want to spend more time with me, if you want, and I guess I'm being a bit too forward but she makes the best mashed potatoes and steak and I'd love for you to—"
"Dream." George laughs, leaning forward to kiss the aforementioned man on the cheek, watching as it glows red. "I'd love to."
Dream smiles, giddy as he connects their lips into a deep kiss once more, happy to have the man of his dreams in his arms.
Punz almost falls from laughter as he receives his 100 dollars from an angry Sapnap.
"What the fuck happened? I was second guessing myself!" Punz hollers, tears in his eyes.
Sapnap immediately blocks out any thoughts of the weekend of moans echoing down hallways which resulted in him moving out, and instead replies:
"It's the damn vanilla."
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