Work Text:
Dream always liked to fidget with things around. Tapping surfaces, bouncing his legs up and down- anything really, it goes by without thinking. Darn ADHD. He thinks. The most fascinating thing is that he bites. He bites the back of his pen, the inside of his cheek, his nails, his lips... or anything that seems interesting.
It’s 3 in the afternoon and Dream is editing his latest video. Minecraft but my friend is a catboy?! The title sure sounds like clickbait but he knows it’ll please his fans. He’s basically confirming George is a catboy in his video, helping him beat the Ender Dragon. (literally, he turned himself into a cat, funniest shit i’ve ever seen)
He’s spent around an hour... or 4, editing, hyper focused on getting things done and ultimately forgetting to eat, drink, and spend some time with his boyfriend. He’d been editing since yesterday.
There are fidget gadgets, post-its and some writing material on his desk. There's also a plate of cold bacon and eggs on his desk with a bottle of water. It seems that George has taken up the role of being their breakfast cook whilst Dream makes lunch and dinner, he wakes up earlier anyways.
After adding the final touches to his work he finally has a bite of some of the cold food on his plate. It tastes alright but maybe he enjoys it a little more having George in mind. He removes his headphones and places it on his desk. The video processes as he leans back in his chair and stretches his hands up, lifting a bit of his shirt in the process.
As he leans a bit forward to reach his fidget spinner, he’s surprised by slender fingers creeping up his shoulders. He jolts a bit and looks back to see George smiling warmly. He eases a bit as George places a soft kiss to his forehead, urging him to go face his screen again and starts lightly massaging his shoulders.
It feels domestic.
“I didn’t hear you come in, Georgie.” he stretches his neck sideways.
“I was by your bed a third of the time, silly.” he continued rubbing the nape of his neck.
“Oh…” he grabs his spinner and starts fidgeting with it, humming as George starts tracing his fingers up to massage his scalp.
“Is the video done?” George asks.
“Yes…” he’s zoning out a bit as George eases his head, somewhat nodding and agreeing to whatever George continues to talk about.
“-so where?”
“Hmm?” Dream shifts a little to look up at George now by his side.
“I asked,” George giggled while petting his hair, “if you’d like to watch the video by the couch or in bed?”
“Oh,” Dream puts down his toy and swivels his chair to fully face George, “Mmm, couch, then we could continue watching The Office?” he places his hands on his waist and opens his legs to invite George to come closer.
“Okay, Dreamie. Finish eating and set it up. I’ll be washing some dishes then I’ll take a shower, sounds good?” George places his hands on top of his.
“Good. I’ll be waiting on the couch.” He perks up. George leans down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips before turning away and leaving the room.
Less than an hour later, they’re cuddling in a blanket, watching his newly edited video before it goes up. George is engulfed by Dream, between his legs and arms, basically spooning him. Dream rubs his fingers against George’s hands and occasionally plays with it.
Nearing the end of the 30 minute video, he lifts George’s left hand and starts lightly dabbing his lips with it, resting both their right hands by George’s stomach. George giggles and puts his right on top of Dream’s, to somewhat assert dominance.
The video ends and George holds the remote with his right to change the scene. Dream had been using both his hands to inspect George’s left dainty hand. Lightly pulling his fingers apart and inserting his in the empty spaces back and forth while resting his head on George’s hair.
“Dream? I’ll start it now, okay?” George shifts a little to face Dream on his left side. Dream nods, mesmerized with how George looks at him with his doe eyes. George smiles and turns back to the screen and presses play.
Dream has seen this entire show about 4 times but as he promised to George in a stream a long while back that he’d rewatch it with him. A promise is a promise and he’s now on his fifth.
Dream, still fidgeting with his left hand, brings it up to his lips to kiss the pad of his pointer finger, pushing against it to form a triangle and slowly glides his lips to leave a soft kiss on his middle joint. Dainty and light. His fingers are slender, soft and pale like it’s never had to put up with any work. George giggles more and lightheartedly tells Dream to stop it, trying to focus on the show. A thought came to mind. Bite. His mind went blank.
Head empty, must bite.
Dream thinks about it for a second-- before slowly opening his mouth and biting his finger.
George suddenly shifts and looks back at him stunned, still with his finger between his teeth. Dream only looks at him with puppy eyes, dazed, slightly scared to move, like a dog caught by his owner munching on something that wasn’t meant for him.
“Dream!” George lightly smacks his cheek with his free hand and Dream lets go of his finger, still holding his hand and rubbing the small bite mark. George eyebrows furrow, holding back his laughter and failing as he lets out bits of it.
“You look like a puppy being told off for the first time!” he finally lets out his laugh, lightly smacking his right hand on his chest. Dream looked embarrassed but nervously laughed along with George and bit by bit eased up. George shifts his body so he’s partially straddling him.
“You looked so cute! My pup!” George teases, pinching both his cheeks.
“ ‘Mnot a dog!” Dream argues back with a timid voice, slowly placing his hands on George’s waist.
“Why’d you bite my finger then?” George raises his brow.
“Um…” Dream looks to the side, trying to find a valid reason, “it.. looked nice!” trying to sound confident but evidently faltering, red creeping into his cheeks.
“Sure, pup.” Lifting his left hand to pet his hair.
Dream looks flustered with George's usage of the new nickname and petting. It feels nice.
“You like that, don’t you?!” George giddily rubs his cheek while stroking his hair.
“Shut up…” Dream blushes as red as a tomato, “catboy…” he continues.
“Oh? Is that your best retort? My pup is flustered!” he coos.
Dream pulled George closer and nuzzled against his chest, filled with embarrassment. Why did I do that?!
George decides to stop humiliating the poor boy and rubs his back as Dream whimpers against his chest.
“I’ll let you bite me next time… in bed.”
“GEORGE!”