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Summary
Eyeing your pretty boy best friend across the bar wasn't a good thing, especially when he was making out with some guy that was not Dream.
Fire licked at his veins, though not in a pleasurable way as it would've felt if it was Dream's hands around a pretty pale waist. No, instead it left green flames of jealousy in its wake, bitter ashes heavy on Dream's tongue.
Dream should've looked away, he really should've. Maybe then he wouldn't have caught the glance from russet brown eyes towards his direction, like he was trying to get under Dream's skin.
Or
Dream thinks George could do better than some shitty hookup & he proves it.
