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downtown, cherry lipstick

Summary:

George was way different in person.

Obviously, Dream knew that being with him in person was going to be different than calling him on Discord, but he was different in a way that Dream didn’t expect.

He knew George liked wearing comfortable clothes, but he hadn’t realized that George liked wearing more… feminine clothes, too.

Notes:

  • For .

the genderqueer gnf agenda rises

if u saw me post this the first time uh. no you didn’t and i am sorry for the extra email

usual stuff, don’t repost & don’t share with ccs :)

for my lovely friend ro! although i honestly never feel super proud of my work i know genderqueer gnf means a lot to u and i wanted to give u some appreciation for all ur support and love :’) and also ro was my outfit consultant for george …. please free george from the prison of wearing only a tennis skirt! lets get creative cmon!

title: silk chiffon - muna & phoebe bridgers

my twitter

enjoy <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

George was way different in person.

Obviously, Dream knew that being with him in person was going to be different than calling him on Discord, but he was different in a way that Dream didn’t expect.

He knew George liked wearing comfortable clothes, but he hadn’t realized that George liked wearing more… feminine clothes, too.

When George had first arrived, he was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Regular George clothes, Dream had thought. 

They’d had dinner, sat together on the couch for a while and talked, before George asked if he could shower and get ready for bed. Dream showed him where the bathroom was, like a good host, before going back to wait in the living room for him.

When George returned, Dream nearly choked on his own spit.

He was wearing a white button-up sleep shirt with tiny purple hearts all over it, along with a matching pair of little shorts. They were definitely a bought-together set, and quite honestly, it looked like it was probably selected from the women’s section. 

It was definitely women’s, Dream decided, as George sat down on the couch next to him.

George tucked his knees underneath him as he settled down, giving Dream a soft little smile. 

Was he trying to make a joke or something? No, George seemed far too comfortable for it to be a joke. And if it was a joke, surely George would have tried to coax some sort of laugh or reaction out of him. 

George ran a hand through his damp hair, turning to look up at Dream once more. “What are we watching?” He asked, nodding his head at the TV.

Dream swallowed in an attempt to regain his composure before shrugging. “I don’t know honestly, I let Netflix autoplay.” 

If he was paying less close attention to George, he wouldn’t have noticed the way he scooted the tiniest bit closer to Dream’s side. Taking that as an invitation, Dream pretended to stretch his arms before letting one fall to rest on the back of the couch around George.

George yawned. “I’ll probably go to bed soon, so that’s okay.”

It was only a matter of minutes before he started nodding off, and then his head was resting on Dream’s shoulder. 

Butterflies overflowed in his stomach as he finally wrapped his arms around George’s shoulders, the soft material of his sleep shirt warm against his hand.

After another half hour of casual cuddling , George went to bed with a soft ‘good night’, giving Dream one more little smile before heading upstairs.

Although he was tired too, Dream just couldn’t get over George’s pajamas. Did he usually wear pajamas like that? Was this a special occasion? He had no idea, but he’d probably find out the next night, anyway.

He went to bed.

 

The next morning, Dream was greeted with yet another surprise.

He heard George’s footsteps on the stairs, presumably coming down in search of breakfast, so he turned around to greet him. 

He froze.

George was wearing denim overalls, baggy enough to look comfortable, with a white lace tank top underneath. The lace hugged his chest perfectly, a small gold heart pendant falling just below the collar where it hung from his neck. His hair was combed and perfectly tousled into place, with little pearl earrings to finish it off. Since when did George have pierced ears?

“‘Morning,” George greeted casually, sweeping past him to grab a glass from the cabinet, as if he hadn’t just shocked Dream to smithereens with his outfit.

“I didn’t know you pierced your ears,” Dream blurted, unable to stop himself from staring at the man in front of him, the pancake batter he’d been mixing completely abandoned.

“Oh,” George laughed a little. “Yeah, they’ve been pierced for like… a few months? You didn’t notice?” He turned back to Dream with a smile and raised eyebrows after he filled up his glass with water from the tap.

“I didn’t,” Dream said slowly, dumbfounded and still staring like a complete idiot. “I mean—I like it, though. It looks—they look—it looks good on you. I like it.” He caught himself quickly, raising his hands in defense.

George laughed again. “Thanks, Dream,” He stepped over to Dream’s side, peering over his shoulder at the mixing bowl. “What are you making for breakfast? I’m hungry.”

 

It turned out the scope of George’s wardrobe was even bigger than Dream had initially imagined.

Short shorts. Crop tops. Mini skirts. Hair clips. Charm bracelets. Light knit cardigans. Jeans with colorful patches. Flowy button-ups. Beaded necklaces. 

It had been a little over a week since George had first arrived in Florida, and he had worn something different every day. The only time he had changed into old George clothes was when they had decided to take some pictures to announce their meetup. 

George still looked cute in his t-shirt and sweats—he always looked cute, but it made Dream kind of sad that he felt like he couldn’t dress how he really wanted to in front of their audience. He guessed that was why he had no idea George dressed the way he did until they were together in person—George had hidden it from him. Had he been worried that Dream would tease him? Or think he was weird?

The thought of George keeping this part of himself secret in fear of judgment made Dream’s heart ache.

Although it had been surprising at first, yes, Dream certainly didn’t think any less of George. In fact, maybe he respected him even more for it! Although Dream probably wouldn’t dress himself like that, he could certainly appreciate and admire how nice George looked.

Hopefully George knew that.

 

Today’s outfit was a tight fitting denim skirt paired with a green crocheted tank top. George was wearing his usual heart necklace, along with tiny white crystals dangling from his ears. He looked lovely; delicate and pretty and nice.

He always did.

They were sitting on the couch, Dream’s arm casually resting on the back of the couch around George as they made fun of some stupid TV show. That kind of casual intimacy had grown to be normal for them—although they hadn’t ever discussed the details of their… friendship… it felt inevitable that they’d end up being a little more touchy than regular friends.

Although Dream longed for more than the occasional head on his shoulder, he wasn’t too concerned with telling George that anytime soon. It wasn’t a big enough deal that it was weighing on him unbearably; he could handle a little pining. Their friendship was more valuable than the butterflies in his stomach, anyway.

“We should stream,” He blurted. “I kind of feel bad. We haven’t put out any content besides pictures, and people have been waiting for us to meet up for, like, years .” 

“Well, we’ve been spending time together. Settling in.” George turned to him, scooting in closer until their thighs pressed together.

Dream’s heart leapt into his throat. How was he so fucking cute?

“I know, I know. I still feel bad, though.” He said, letting his arm fall to wrap around George’s shoulders and pull him in closer.

George seemed happy with the contact, shifting a little closer before looking up at Dream. “Mm, fine. It has to be on my channel, though.”

“Fine with me.” Dream willed the blush on his cheeks to go away. Their noses were inches apart, if he were to just lean in

“I’ll go get ready for the stream.” George said, standing up and straightening his skirt.

“Okay.” He breathed out. Damn it .

 

Dream was sitting just out of frame of George’s camera, which was full screen to way more people than either of them had anticipated. They were just talking, answering questions and laughing as they read the chat and donations. George was, unfortunately, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and all of his jewelry had been taken off.

Patches had slipped into the room at some point, and George had scooped her up and let her sit on his lap, which she was now comfortably sleeping on.

“Someone just donated $100! Oh my God, thank you,” George gasped, leaning in a little closer to the screen to read the message that came along with it. “Who has a better fashion sense?” He giggled, leaning back and looking over at Dream.

Dream laughed too. “Definitely George.” He said. “He’s always dressed super nice—you guys have no idea.” He reached an arm into the frame to pet Patches.

“You think so?” George asked, his expression growing just the slightest bit more vulnerable as he looked at Dream.

“I tell you that, like, every day!” He huffed, unable to wipe the fond smile from his face.

George rolled his eyes, but Dream could tell it was all for the camera, that he was more flustered than he was letting show. Cute.

“What does he wear?” Dream managed to read a message in the chat. “I mean. Not what he’s wearing right now,” He looked back over at George, who was staring right back at him with an unreadable expression. “He wears, like, nice things.”

“Dream,” George warned, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“That’s all.” Dream finished. He gave George a small, reassuring smile before looking back to the monitor to try and catch another question. “Who’s the better cook? Me.”

“What? That’s not true!”

 

After the stream, both of them headed to bed. Dream was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see whatever cute pajamas George had picked out that night, but at least he would see them in the morning.

Room illuminated only by the soft warm glow of a lamp on his nightstand, Dream crawled into bed, phone in hand. He liked to look through Twitter after a stream and see what people thought.

After only a few minutes, though, his peace was interrupted by a soft knock on his door.

“Yeah?” He called.

A timid George opened the door, clad in a short pink nightgown. He looked anxious, fidgeting with the lacy hem as he stood in the doorway.

“Hey,” Dream’s voice immediately grew softer as he sat up, patting the space beside him on his bed. “What’s up?” Any butterflies he would’ve gotten at the sight of George in a dress were immediately tamped down.

George sat down, smoothing out his nightgown and ducking his head. “I’m—I’m nervous,” He said plainly.

Dream frowned, hesitating before settling a warm hand on George’s back in an attempt to be comforting. “About?”

“About what you said on stream earlier. I don’t… I don’t want people to know that I’m… that I…” He trailed off, clearly frustrated at himself.

Guilt settled itself in Dream’s stomach. “I’m sorry for saying anything about it, George,” He murmured, scooting forward to fully wrap his arm around George’s silk-covered shoulders. “But no one’s—no one’s going to know. They’ll probably just think you wear, like, designer shit or something. Or they just won’t believe me.” He shrugged. 

George took in a shaky breath before reaching up to rub his eyes. 

Shit . Dream couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen George really cry more than a few tears. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dream said quickly, heart leaping into his throat as George sniffled and leaned into his side for comfort. “Don’t cry,”

George let out a shuddering sigh, keeping his head down out of embarrassment as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s okay. I promise, it’s okay,” Dream told him, finally wrapping his other arm around George and hugging him close. “I was just on Twitter, I didn’t see anyone talking about it. Trust me.” 

George let out a quiet little whimper, shifting to wrap his arms around Dream and tuck his face into his shoulder. “I’m—I’m not ready for people to know yet,” He cried.

“Oh, George, it’s okay,” He repeated softly, rubbing George’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “No one knows. No one except for me,” Securing his arms around George’s waist, he pulled him over to sit sideways in his lap. “Okay?” He whispered.

George nodded hesitantly, though his face was still hidden in the crook of Dream’s neck. He sniffled.

“Do you want me to make a tweet or something?” Dream asked.

“No, I - no.” George mumbled, still not daring to lift his head. His shoulders trembled as he sucked in an uneven breath.

“Do you want to…” Dream hesitated, “sleep here tonight?”

George tightened his arms around Dream’s middle as he nodded into his shoulder. If he was listening any less closely, he wouldn’t have heard the quiet “yes, please” that he let out.

Wordlessly, Dream leaned over to turn off the lamp at his bedside, keeping an arm securely wrapped around George, before settling back against his pillows. George got himself comfortable, still laying practically on top of Dream as he nuzzled his face into his neck.

Dream grabbed the edge of his comforter and tucked it over himself and George. He reached down to tug George’s nightgown back down his thighs, not wanting to violate his privacy even when they were covered up by a blanket.

George hummed softly in thanks, letting his hand rest on Dream’s chest as he settled down.

The reality of the situation crashed down on him: George, his best friend , cuddled up on his chest; coming to him for comfort; wanting to spend the night in his fucking bed .

“Comfy?” Dream asked despite his nerves.

George nodded, long lashes tickling his neck as he closed his eyes.

The butterflies in his stomach erupted. “Good.” He murmured, running a soothing hand up and down George’s back. “If I see anyone online saying weird things, I’ll make a tweet telling people to respect our privacy. Okay?”

“Okay,” George echoed softly. “Thank you.”

Dream just gave George a little squeeze, letting his own eyes fall shut. “Of course. Get some sleep.”

 

By the time Dream woke up, George was already downstairs. The clinking of silverware and plates from the kitchen was domestic music to his ears.

Although the intimacy they’d shared the night before was heavy on his shoulders, Dream didn’t plan on bringing it up unless George did. George had merely come to him for comfort about something he was upset about: it was weird of Dream to turn it into something less platonic.

Right?

 

After that night, something in George shifted.

He’d been much more open to physical affection, sometimes even initiating it himself. Sure, they’d been a little touchy before, but things felt different. 

George was much more prone to blushing, especially whenever Dream made any comment or gesture on the more flirtatious side. Every time Dream sat down on the couch, George was right by his side. Whenever Dream was in his office editing or coding, George seemed to show up and sit with him.

It was a little weird. But it was endearing.

It was a warm evening, the windows cracked open to let in the fresh air as Dream lounged in the living room, George, of course, right by his side as they idly watched some stupid TV show. George was wearing some simple jean shorts and a cropped t-shirt, his earrings two little gold hearts.

“Tomorrow is your anniversary,” Dream commented quietly.

George jumped, redness flooding to his face. “Anniversary?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” Dream turned to look at him. “One month in Florida!” He grinned.

“Oh! Right!” George sat up straighter, a smile gracing his lips. “Are we going to do something special?”

Dream huffed out a laugh. “If you want to, sure. We could go for dinner somewhere nice.”

George lit up. “Yes! That’s perfect.” He beamed, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Alright, alright. We’ll go out for sushi, how about that?”

If it was even possible, George’s smile grew even wider. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Dream ruffled George’s hair. “You’re acting like this is something insane. It’s just dinner, George.” 

George swatted Dream’s hand away, crossing his arms in an attempt to look offended, though it was clear that there was no real malice present. “Well, it’s exciting.” 

“I know. I’ll call and make reservations.” Dream smiled. George’s excitement was honestly rubbing off on him, too.

A dinner. At a nice restaurant. Alone. With George.

It was practically a date.

 

“Dream!” A familiar voice called, muffled by the walls.

Dream realized, as he made his way down the hall, that he hadn’t been in George’s room since he’d first moved in. There had been no reason for him to—the only time they were in any bedroom was when they were sleeping and alone. Except for that one night.

Still, though, Dream couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding as he carefully pushed open George’s door.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The walls were still mostly plain, but there were a couple of framed photos on the dresser. The bed was neatly made, a well-loved teddy bear by the pillows. There were a variety of things neatly placed on the dresser; a little glass tray shaped like a heart with an arrangement of earrings and necklaces. 

George emerged from the closet, presenting his back to Dream. “Can you button this for me?” He asked.

Dream took in the sight, his heart stuttering. George’s dress was a muted sage green, loose and comfortable, ending at his mid-thigh. Thin little straps held it up, resting perfectly on George’s shoulders. Three brown buttons were waiting for him.

George shifted a little, a blush creeping across his face. Dream jolted, realizing how awkward it must have been that he was just standing there.

“Uh, yeah.” He said quickly, hands fumbling to lift and button up George’s dress for him. As he finished with the last one, he tentatively laid a hand on George’s waist. “I uh… I like this color on you,” He said quietly.

George didn’t flinch away from the touch. “It’s green, right?” He replied instead, voice soft.

“Yeah. It’s cute.” Dream confirmed.

George stepped away before he could say anything else embarrassing, stopping in front of his dresser and looking through his little tray of jewelry. Not wanting to invade on his privacy any more than he already had, Dream made to walk out of the door, but was quickly cut off.

“Can you do the clasp on this?” George asked, once again turned around to give Dream the two ends of his necklace.

Dream blinked. George put on his own necklaces all the time, why was he asking him to do it for him?

Regardless, he carefully clasped the two ends together and stepped back, making eye contact with George in the vanity mirror. “Looks nice,” He commented awkwardly. 

George smiled bashfully, ducking his head. “Thank you,” 

Dream could hardly take his eyes off of George. It wasn’t like his dress was super fancy or anything, but he looked so… nice . And Dream was wearing just a t-shirt and jeans.

“I feel underdressed for our dinner,” He admitted. “Should I change?”

George pursed his lips, cheeks still pink, as he turned to take in Dream’s own outfit. “I think you look nice, too. No need to change.” 

Gaining an ounce of courage at the compliment, Dream grinned. “Alright, you finish getting ready for our sushi date, okay? I’ll go wait downstairs for you.” He stayed long enough to see the brilliant redness spread across George’s face before turning to leave, excitement and anticipation coursing through him.

 

The restaurant wasn’t super high end, so it wasn’t informal to be wearing jeans, but it was definitely a nicer sit-down place.

George was practically buzzing with excitement, blushing and smiling as they were seated across from each other at a table tucked away in a corner.

Every time that they made eye contact, George would blush and look away. It was disgustingly adorable. He was clearly excited about the food, too—“I haven’t had sushi since I was in London!”—which was just another reason to be endeared by him.

When George got up to use the restroom at some point, Dream watched him walk over. The dress really did look good on him; George clearly knew what he liked and what looked flattering on him.

Instead of heading into the men’s room, though, George stopped behind another person apparently in line. Upon further inspection, there weren’t just women’s and men’s rooms—George was waiting in line for the gender neutral bathroom. Maybe he just liked the privacy more, Dream reasoned. 

Their waitress snapped Dream out of his thoughts. He took care of the entire bill, it was the least he could do, and by the time George came back, the waitress had taken it again.

“I got the bill,” He told George with a fond smile. “Don’t worry about it. And, uh—y’know, if you’d used the men’s room, you wouldn’t have had to wait in line. Just a pro tip.” Dream teased with a fond smile.

George’s eyebrows knit together in something between disgust and confusion. “Why would I use the men’s bathroom?”

Dream blinked. “Um. What do you mean?”

“You two have a nice night,” A female voice cut off the awkward silence, the check being returned to Dream with a polite smile from their waitress.

It wasn’t brought up again on the car ride home.

 

“I had a lot of fun. Thank you, Dream,” George said as they stepped inside the house. “And, um… I really appreciate you wanting to go on a date with me even though I’m not… y’know…” 

“Wait wait wait,” Dream cut him off. “ Date? ” What the hell? Did George think that was an actual date ?

George’s face flushed. “Yeah. You - you said earlier that it was a date. Was it not?” 

Fuck. Guilt crashed into him like a truck. “No, I mean—it was if you wanted it to be. I just wasn’t - I was teasing you. But. Uh. It can be a date if you want.” He backtracked quickly. 

George looked impossibly more embarrassed. “I’m sorry,”

“No, George, it’s my fault. I should’ve been more clear,”

“I was just—I just got too excited. I haven’t been with a guy who wanted to go out with me even though I’m not a man.” 

“Hold on,” Dream shook his head. “What do you mean?”

George’s eyebrows knit together. “I didn’t tell you?” 

What was even happening? “Tell me what?”

“I just said it. I’m not a man.” He said simply, a little frown on his face. 

“Oh.” All the puzzle pieces finally fell into place. The clothes, the accessories, the… everything . “Cool.”

George bit his lip nervously. “Cool?”

“Yeah. That’s—that’s really cool, George.” Dream said honestly, stepping forward to engulf his friend in a hug. “Is there - do you go by a different name? Or—or pronouns? Or, um…” 

George laughed against his shoulder. “No. I’m still George. And he, him.” He wrapped his arms around Dream’s waist, stepping in closer.

“Okay. Awesome. That’s great.” He pulled back from the hug a little, trailing his hands down to hold George’s. “I’ll, uh. I’ll take you on an actual date tomorrow. One where we’re both on the same page.” He promised.

George squeezed his hands, smiling sheepishly. “That sounds nice.” 

Dream tried to will his heart to stop beating so fast. “Cool. Okay. Cool.” He laughed awkwardly. “A real date it is.”

 

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. They ended up going to George’s room and sitting on his bed together: Dream felt bad about the whole situation, but even more so about not knowing George’s identity.

“I thought that you knew. I mean, like, that night when I—when I came into your room after our first stream here?” George elbowed Dream lightly.

“I thought you were just talking about your clothes,” Dream laughed at his own stupidity. 

“You’re such an idiot,” George slumped back against the pillows, smiling fondly. “I could’ve sworn I told you on a call months ago.”

“You might’ve. And I might’ve just been asleep or something. Who knows.” Dream leaned back too, turning to look at George with a soft smile. He looked so pretty, like this: hair a little messed up, all cozy, in their home.

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m happy now.” George said, his smile growing impossibly softer.

Dream knew it was weird to just stare and not respond, but… he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been this physically close to George before. Not for this long.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Dream snapped out of his trance, blinking a few times. “Huh? Uh, no.”

George let out a soft laugh, nudging him lightly in the ribs. “What are you staring at, then?”

“Just you.” Dream smiled gently.

“Just me?” George repeated.

“Yeah. You just look really pretty.” Dream said simply, letting a hand rest on George’s upper arm. He delighted in the blush he earned in response.

“You’re such an idiot,” George mumbled, scooting forward a little. “You already said that earlier.”

Dream’s smile grew as he wrapped his arm around George. “That’s because it’s true. You’re just so…”

“So what?” George scoffed. “I think you’re a little biased.”

Dream raised his eyebrows, his eyes trailing down George’s face to look at his lips. “What makes you say that?”

“Well…” George shifted a little. “I don’t know.”

Dream had no idea which one of them leaned in first. Their lips met in a sweet kiss, soft and innocent, before George pulled back. He cupped Dream’s cheek tentatively. “Hi,” He murmured.

“Hi,” Dream smiled. 

He grasped George’s waist as they kissed again, this time parting his lips.

George crawled onto Dream’s lap, trailing kisses down his jaw.

Dream tipped his head back, letting his hand trail down to squeeze George’s ass. George hummed in response, lifting his head. “Do you wanna, um… help me take my dress off?” He asked quietly.

Dream’s face flushed. “Oh! Uh. If you want, sure, yeah,” He fumbled to reach for the buttons on the back of George’s dress, struggling for a moment before finally undoing them.

George sat up on Dream’s lap, adjusting himself for a moment. “Is that okay…?” He asked. “If I? Take this off?”

Dream felt flabbergasted. “Oh my God, of course it’s okay, holy shit,” He affirmed, watching with wide eyes as George carefully lifted his dress off of himself and laid it aside. He was wearing little shorts underneath, tight against his skin.

Snapping himself out of his trance, Dream settled his hands on George’s hips, pulling him back down for another kiss.

It never got too hot in Dream’s room, despite the Florida weather, but it felt like he was burning up the more they kissed. Years of pining, of admiring from afar, of questioning and denial were erupting in his heart. 

“George,” He gasped, cupping George’s soft cheek and holding him close. George pulled back a little too, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. “Can we date?” He blurted.

George’s eyes widened for a moment before he burst out in laughter, bright and sweet. “Yes, you idiot.” He said finally, leaning back down to press a little kiss to Dream’s cheek. “Now can we hurry up and do something? I’m so turned on I feel like I’m going to explode.”

It was Dream’s turn to laugh, trailing kisses down George’s pale neck and nipping right above where the chain of his necklace laid. “Aw, does your dick hurt?” He teased, snaking his hand between them to cup George’s bulge.

George made a face.

“Sorry—do you want me to call it something else?”

“No. Just don’t call it anything. Don’t be weird.” George said, fully relaxing against Dream’s chest and resting his head on his shoulder. “Now do something.”

“Brat,” Dream mumbled, his other hand snaking around to grope at his ass as he slipped his hand under George’s shorts.

George bucked his hips, letting out a soft moan as Dream wrapped his hand around his erection. “Yeah? That feel good?” Dream cooed.

“Fuck, yeah,” George breathed out, dipping his own hand down to grasp Dream’s own cock over his jeans. Dream choked in surprise. 

“You don’t have to do that,” He assured him.

“I want to.” George huffed, lifting his shirthead for another kiss.

Dream started stroking him, not bothering to start off too slowly. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, George,”

George groaned. “Wanted you too,” He panted, smashing their lips together as he shoved his hand down Dream’s waistband. 

It was almost embarrassing, how turned on he was after such a short amount of time. At least, it would’ve been embarrassing, if George wasn’t just as turned on, too.

“God, will you let me fuck you later?” Dream asked, gripping George’s ass and pressing a finger between his cheeks.

George moaned again, bucking his hips up. “If you take me on a nice date, then yes,” He trailed kisses down the side of Dream’s neck, sucking firmly at a spot right above the collar of his . He couldn’t find it in himself to care about how visible it was.

“Fuck, I’m gunna cum,” He warned, stroking George even faster.

“C’mon, do it,” George panted, pressing their lips together.

One more kiss was all it took for Dream. He moaned into George’s mouth as he came, hips bucking and eyes squeezing shut.

George carefully pulled his hand out of Dream’s pants, still not pulling away from the kiss. Determined, Dream sped up his own wrist, squeezing George’s ass and pulling him closer. Only a few more moments and George was cumming too, moaning and making a mess of his little shorts.

When they both finally pulled away, George scrunched up his face in disgust. “This is so gross.” He pursed his lips. “Go get a towel or something.”

Dream laughed breathlessly, leaning in to give George one more peck before getting up to grab a towel from the bathroom across the hall.

“So… are you, like… my boyfriend? Or partner? Or what?” He asked as he gently wiped them both down. 

George blushed impossibly more pink. “I haven’t really thought about that, honestly.” He admitted. “Maybe we’ll… you can help me figure it out?” 

Dream smiled. “That sounds like a plan. First, I owe you an actual date, though.”

Notes:

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