“I need those quotations yesterday!” Dream’s roaring voice fills his office space, as well as the slam of his flat hand onto his desk at the end of the sentence. A panicked voice blabbers from the other side of the phone line, summing up all the excuses as of why the imposed work isn’t finished yet.
“Patience? You dare talk to me about patience? I could fire you on the spot for that fucking comment alone!” Dream yells back, pacing back and forth through the room, his black leather Hilfigers tapping the floor with each step. It's almost like the sound of a ticking time bomb, which wouldn’t be far off either.
“I expect them on my desk before six, or I’ll find someone else to do it, someone who is actually capable of doing their goddamn job,” Dream states, before abruptly hanging up by slamming the phone back into its holder. An exasperated huff escapes him as he plops back into his chair, closing his eyes momentarily to regain himself. A single strand has escaped his slicked back hair and lays comfortably against his forehead.
He doesn’t necessarily enjoy lashing out at people like that, but it does really alleviate the frustration building up inside his chest when things aren’t going the way he wants them to.
It’s a basic rule of thumb; either it happens Dream’s way, or you can try out your own way at a different company.
Dream is shaken back into reality by the ringing of his phone once again, and with a less than amused tone of voice, he picks up, “yes?”
“Hi, you doing okay?” the British accent sounds sweetly through the phone. “We could hear you down the hallway,” George chuckles softly. An involuntary smile creeps up on Dream’s face as he listens.
“Yeah, I’m good, but thanks for asking,” he answers, picking up a pen and twisting it between his fingers. A brilliant idea sparks his mind. “If you could bring me a cappuccino though, that’d be great,” he says, wanting an excuse to see the man for a moment.
“You know I’m a secretary, and not your butler, correct?” the other giggles. Dream’s grin grows wider.
“Oh, I know,” he states, a hint of cockiness detectable in his now lowered voice. “But you do what I ask of you, no?”
The line stays silent for a moment, and Dream bites his lip softly in anticipation. George answers, his voice thick and deep, “of course.” He hears a soft click, signifying George has ended the call, and with a self-satisfactory smirk, Dream reclines in his chair.
When minutes later a knock sounds through the door, Dream pretends to look intently at his computer. “Come in,” he says loudly for the person on the other side to hear, and sure enough, George enters his office with a large cup clutched in both his hands. The pair meet eyes for a good few seconds, before George walks closer, breaking their shared gaze to watch the coffee sway softly in the cup.
“Here you go,” George says as he places it down, Dream following his hands with his eyes. Something about those tender hands makes him want them all over his body, right this instant. But he refrains from commenting on the issue.
“Thank you,” he smiles, looking up from his chair. His cherished desire swirls through his chest as he studies George’s soft features. “Can you do something else for me?”
“What would that be?” George asks in response, watching back intently. Dream rises from his chair and walks over to the side of his desk nonchalantly, picking up some envelopes to hold them lightly. He lets them slip from his fingers, and George observes them falling to the ground, before he looks back up.
“Oops,” Dream teases, tilting his head sideways a little as he looks at the envelopes, before looking back up at George and stuffing his hands in his own pockets. “Would you mind picking those up for me?” A pink tint dusts George’s face as he processes the request, but walks over nevertheless, keeping eye contact before he turns his back towards Dream and bends down. Dream studies the way his pants hug his bottom tightly as he bows forward, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as his imagination starts running wild.
With one step forward, he stands nearly against George, and he places his hands lightly on George’s hips, startling the other slightly. As he lifts himself up, he purposefully presses his back into Dream’s chest, who exhales deeply as he feels George’s ass press against his crotch. His hands start moving down over George’s hips, towards his outer thighs, and George sighs softly.
“Has anyone told you how pretty you look today?” Dream whispers into his ear, making George shudder as he closes his eyes.
“You keep doing this,” George whispers back, feeling Dream's lips move down across his neck, leaving little pecks all over his skin.
“Hmm, doing what?” he answers, sending a shiver through George’s spine, before he sucks softly on a spot at the back of George's neck.
“Teasing me,” George responds whiningly, and Dream smirks against his skin. His hands wander towards George’s inner thighs, stroking the fabric of his dress pants slowly, just below his groin.
“If you don’t like it,” Dream whispers right against his ear again, making a small gasp escape from George, “then do something about it.”
“They’re waiting on me for a meeting,” he breathes out. Dream hears some disappointment in his words, but retracts his hands and takes a step back, disconnecting their bodies from each other. George turns around with a light pout on his flushed face. Dream marvels at the way George looks, disheveled in the sexiest of ways, his desire clearly visible through his pants and the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
“I’ll be off in an hour, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dream states, his voice returned to its usual timbre, as he sits down again, admiring George from a distance. The other nods and makes his way over to the door, well aware of the lingering gaze on his ass. He looks back over his shoulder once more, catching Dream slouched in his chair, his elbow propped on the armrest with his head tilted up, biting down on one of his fingers.
“Have a good evening~,” George’s sweet voice calls out to him, before he leaves the room. Dream lets his hand ghost over his own erection, but decides against touching himself as he remembers the quotations that he expects to be brought in any moment now.
———
“I swear to God this job is going to end me one day,” Dream mumbles quietly to himself as he rummages through a pile of documents, unable to find the specific binder he needs. He throws sets of papers to the floor as he searches, slowly clearing out his desk.
His lack of sleep that night, the coffee machine running out, and his lost documents all subsequently contributed to his awfully snappy mood that day. He wasn’t able to stop by George when he came in that morning either due to his rush –because of course, his car wouldn’t start when he needed to leave–, so he could only hope for a moment of peace later in the day in which he could call him.
He finally appears to find the document he needs, but when he reads the date on the front paper, he curses out and tosses it back onto his desk. Right subject, wrong year. He groans loudly as he crouches down to pick up the other papers he threw onto the ground.
With fresh reluctance he sits down behind his desk, letting his eyes scan across his monitor to figure out which tasks to prioritize. The missing document will have to wait until a later date. He slips off his jacket and throws it over the backrest of his chair, being sufficiently warmed up from his intense search.
A few uninteresting hours pass by as Dream works on queries and office policies, in which he manages to finish most of his tasks relatively easily. He gets taken out of his concentration by a set of knocks at the door, the umpteenth set that day. Rather unamused, he answers, “come in.”
His aggravated expression softens when he looks at the man who enters through the door timidly.
“Sorry to bother,” George speaks slyly, closing the door behind him with one hand, before leaning against it. “Are you busy, by any chance?” He tilts his head sideways in faux innocence. Dream observes him, looking him up and down slowly, gaze lingering around his hips, before he looks him back in the eyes, contemplating his answer.
“Hm, no,” he responds, reclining in his chair. He weaves his hands together to lay them over his midriff, while he watches George push himself up from his position against the door and walk towards the desk, careful consideration in each step.
“Mrs. Johnson called, she wants you to look over these,” he says, voice hushed as he places a new set of papers on the mahogany surface. His hand traces the edge of the desk as he walks around it, towards Dream, who watches George’s fingers intently as they slide across the surface. He imagines what other surfaces they could so easily glide across.
“Right,” Dream answers slowly, feeling George’s presence appear behind him as his hand comes to a halt beside Dream. He leans forward in his chair to look over the information, and George bows down with him, his chest hovering just above Dream’s back. An exhale brushes past Dream’s ear, sending a shiver down his back.
“But if you’re not busy anyway..” George whispers, carefully placing his lips right below Dream’s right ear in a peck. His arms snake over Dream’s shoulders, playing with his tie as he kisses down the side of his neck. A heavy breath passes by Dream’s lips as his pants tighten ever so slightly under his desk.
“Well?” Dream inquires, craning his neck to grant to other better access to the expanse of his skin.
“Maybe I can follow your advice,” George breathes out, moving his lips to nibble on Dream’s earlobe, and licking a smile stripe behind it, making Dream’s eyes nearly roll back into his head from lust.
“What was my advice?” he asks, voice reduced to a low mumble. He hums when George starts loosening the tie around his neck.
“To do something about it,” George whispers back, lifting the tie to throw it off to the side. “Besides, you deserve a little break.” Dream hums again in response. He feels his erection grow, painfully restricted by his pants.
“Then why don’t you get under the desk?” Dream proposes, taking in every little breath that George lets out.
“If you say so, boss,” he answers, owning a barely audible moan from Dream at the nickname. He peels himself away from Dream’s back to crouch down and crawl under the desk, looking up at Dream with doe eyes as he places his hands on Dream’s thighs, rubbing his legs softly. Dream offers him an encouraging nod, and while George rubs his own thighs together to create some friction for himself, his hands reach for Dream’s belt. The sound of the buckle unclasping speeds up his heartbeat while George pulls it out from the belt loops, discarding of it.
“Is this okay, boss?” George asks innocently as he places his hand on Dream’s crotch, finding the stiff outline of his erection and rubbing his palm up against it. Dream slackens his jaw at the feeling, exhaling sharply.
“Fuck— yes, George, keep calling me that,” he breathes out. He feels another hand tug on his waistband, and he complies eagerly by lifting his hips from the chair in order for George to slide off his pants for him. Slender fingers trace the shape of his cock through his boxers, before George leans down and plants his mouth on the fabric, licking at it slowly.
“Anything you say,” George answers as he lifts his head again, returning his hand to stroke Dream softly, “boss.” A dark spot appears where his tip is leaking and Dream throws his head back with a lewd moan. George takes it as his cue to pull Dream’s boxers down as well, and watch his cock spring up in front of his face.
“Oh God—” Dream moans out when George licks up his shaft immediately, leaving a wet trail from base to tip, before he swipes his tongue across the head. One of Dream’s hands tangles with George’s brown locks as he places his lips on the tip, guiding his tongue across Dream’s slit. A loud groan erupts from Dream as George takes his tip into his mouth completely, sucking softly while swirling his tongue around.
“Fuck, George,” Dream groans as he pushes him down further, hair clutched between his fingers tightly as he forces his cock deeper into George’s mouth, breathing heavily at the warmth engulfing him. George moans softly, sending a shock of pleasure through Dream, making his dick twitch in enjoyment.
“Get up,” Dream breathes out, and George quickly obliges, releasing Dream’s dick from his mouth and crawling out from under the desk. Dream immediately starts unbuckling George’s belt and pulls down his pants and underwear in one swift movement, leaving George’s legs as bare as his own. George quickly steps out of them and kicks off his shoes while Dream does the same, before he sits down in Dream’s lap, staring down at him with lust-filled eyes. Dream notices the bright blush that has spread across George’s face and smirks, quickly attacking his neck with his lips and teeth, biting at the skin softly to pull more sounds from the man. He’s successful as he hears George’s low moans and feels him roll his hips against his own.
“Are you going to listen to me baby?” he grumbles against George’s skin.
“Yes, boss” George says fervently while his dick rubs up against Dream’s stomach. Once Dream sucks on a spot near his collarbone, an obscene moan escapes from him. Dream happily abuses the spot, leaving blue and purple marks across his neck and collarbones.
He wraps his own large palm around George’s shaft and pumps slowly, a loud, long moan sounding through office. The volume increases when Dream finds more sensitive places across his Adam’s apple.
Carelessly, Dream unbuttons George’s shirt rather quickly, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms for it to land on the ground below them. He leaves wet kisses across George’s shoulders, who starts bucking his hips into Dream’s hand to increase the pace. His own shirt joins George’s on the ground soon after.
“Dream, I’m— fuck— I’m gonna—" George moans out, which Dream takes as his sign to let go of George’s dick completely, placing his hands on his hips instead. George whines at the lack of stimulation, looking down at Dream with a pleading look in his eyes.
“Not yet sweetheart,” Dream whispers, lifting his hand to cup George’s jaw, who leans into the touch. He continues rolling his hips in an attempt to find more friction, but fails when Dream’s other hand pushes him to sit still. The hand on George’s jaw slowly moves towards his lips, parting them with modest urgency.
“Suck for me, will you?” Dream asks sweetly, and George nods, wrapping his lips around Dream’s middle and index finger. Dream feels George’s tongue swirl around greedily, moving his mouth up and down over the digits. The sight makes Dream buck up his hips slightly in impatience, wanting to insert himself into the man already as his stomach goes wild with needy butterflies.
George slides his lips almost off the fingers, before sucking in hard again, causing Dream to inhale sharply. His other hand finds its way to his own erect member, stroking to relieve his craving for the other.
“Such a good boy,” Dream breathes out, admiring George’s half-lidded eyes and red nose.
When George feels satisfied with his work, he releases the fingers from his mouth, looking at Dream with a silent plea to take it further. Dream takes the hint and positions his fingers by George’s rim, searching for any trace of hesitance, but finding none. On the contrary, even–
“Put them in already,” George whines, pressing his own chest to Dream’s while wrapping his arms around his neck.
“So eager, Georgie,” Dream teases as he circles his wet fingers around, making George squirm on top of him. “What do good boys say when they want something?” he whispers against George’s ear.
“Please,” George mumbles out softly, and he immediately gasps as he feels a finger slip inside of him. Dream catches George’s open mouth with his own, using the favorable situation to push his tongue inside while he gently moves his finger in and out of the squirming man in his lap. He takes in every little gasp and moan George releases, relentlessly attacking his lips.
Slowly but surely, George adjusts to the feeling, and Dream slips in a second finger, gently stretching him out in preparation. George detaches his mouth from Dream’s and plants it on his neck instead, earning more sounds of pleasure from Dream as he sucks softly, still distracted by the feeling of the thick fingers penetrating him.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Dream praises as he thrusts his fingers in harder, trying to find the spot he knows will drive George crazy in his arms. When he can’t seem to achieve that goal with merely his fingers, he slides them out, making George whine at the emptiness.
“Please, boss, more,” George pants, yearning for the feeling of being filled again. Dream quickly spits into his hand, jerking his own cock for a few moments to lube himself up. In combination with George’s gentle but hungry kisses, he groans, positioning George just over his tip.
Right as Dream is about to push George down, the phone rings, and both men stiffen in their positions. Dream looks between George and the phone, and George nods, letting him know he can wait as he bites his lip. A devious idea crosses his mind.
“Hello?” Dream picks up the phone with, trying to maintain his calm breathing. He listens while George places silent kisses on his shoulder and collarbone. “Yes, uhm, no I wasn’t able to find those just yet, I’ll have a look tomorrow again when I–” He interrupts his own sentence by slapping his hand in front of his mouth as George lowers down on him. His eyes roll back when he feels George’s warmth wrap around him, pushing down until Dream bottoms out, and George stays put, smiling devilishly.
“I’m sorry, I’ll have to call you back later,” Dream says when he recollects himself, feeling George grind down on him in his lap. “Why?” Dream repeats after the caller, raising his eyebrows. George starts moving up and down slowly, finding a rhythm to make Dream clutch the phone in his hand tightly. “Because I fucking say so, should I remind you who you work for?” he shouts into the phone, gaining some hasty ‘okay’s and ‘goodbye’s before the phone is hung up. He tosses it back to the desk and pushes George slightly away from him, a death glare going his way. George stops his movements, and his eyes grow wide.
“You wanna explain yourself?” he asks sternly, and George’s jaw slackens as he feels Dream grind up into him. He breathes out heavily as he lets Dream’s movements take him over completely, putty in his large hands, malleable entirely to Dream’s desires.
“You’re so hot when you act all bossy,” George tells him, eyes glossed over with lust, lips still plump from their make-out. Dream hums and lifts George in the slightest, before slamming him back down. George’s mouth drops wide open as he feels Dream hit his prostate dead-on.
“Fuck— there, Dream,” he moans out as he lifts himself a little again, allowing Dream’s veiny hands to push him back down with force, hitting his G-spot without even trying. He drops his head to Dream’s shoulder and keeps lifting himself up slowly, ready for the next push.
When it doesn’t come, he pulls his head away and looks Dream in the eyes, who smirks evilly as he holds George up. Without warning, he thrusts upward hard, immediately pulling out and repeating the movement. George’s eyes roll back as Dream continues hitting his sweet spot again and again, pace rapidly increased from before, barely any sounds escaping him anymore. Only pants and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with the chair creaking softly under the forceful movements.
“Oh my God,” Dream cusses softly as he feels a warmth pooling in his stomach, still thrusting into George, who has lost the ability to form any coherent words at this point. George places his head back onto Dream’s shoulder and follows his movements, moving down harshly when Dream moves up to make it even more intense. “I’m close baby,” Dream groans into his ear, and he nods frantically. Dream’s hand grabs onto George’s hair again, softly tugging on the strands as they build up their orgasms.
“Me— ah— me too,” he manages to bring out, before Dream’s hand grabs onto his dick again and starts stroking, making him throw his head back with a shameless, high-pitched moan.
“Shit, George—,” Dream groans as his movements become sloppier and more rushed. “In or out, sweetheart?” he asks.
“In, please, in,” George mumbles softly, wrapping his arms tighter around Dream’s neck.
“Oh my— fuck,” Dream moans out loudly as he releases inside George, continuing his thrusts slowly to ride out his orgasm. He doesn’t fail to remember the other, quickly jerking his hand up and down on George’s member as he gasps desperately, before spurts of white cover both their stomachs as well as Dream’s fingers, who allows George to ride out his own orgasm as well, letting him buck into his hand as he moans and pants.
“Holy fuck,” George mutters as he rests against Dream’s chest, catching his breath, sweat dripping down his forehead. Dream’s clean hand circles over George’s back as he pulls out, George releasing a final whimper at the loss of contact.
“You are.. something else,” Dream chuckles as he eyes the phone, and he feels George laugh softly against him as well.
“So are you,” he says, pulling away to look Dream in the eyes. Both match in messy hair and flushed faces, still panting softly.
“Maybe I can take you out to dinner first, next time? If you want there to be a next time, I mean,” Dream says, more shyly than George is used from him. He smiles and nods, running a hand through Dream’s golden locks.
“I would very much like that,” he says, watching Dream’s face light up.
“You wanna get out of here, grab a coffee together?” Dream proposes, running his thumb across George’s cheekbone. George glances at the clock and then at Dream again, biting his lip.
“I don’t get off until six,” George answers hesitantly. Dream laughs in response.
“You know, I think when you fuck the boss, you can get away with it,” he chuckles, watching George’s face grow redder before he hides it in Dream’s shoulder again.
“You are awful,” he whines, but he smiles against Dream’s skin nevertheless.
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