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Summary
George opens his legs wider, and Dream positions himself like he’s actually fucking him.
Except he’s not, because there’s layers of fabric in the way and, somehow, the denial makes it all the hotter. He leans in close again, re-places his elbows on either side of George’s head as George whines into his mouth. Their bodies are inches away from each other, only touching where they both feel the most sensitive. He doesn’t understand how they got this carried away in such a short amount of time, how George can have such a strong effect on him without even needing to do much.
Or, sometimes, Dream feels nothing. George helps him feel everything.
