Chapter Text
Almost as soon as he sees the screen on George’s channel update from ‘Live’ to ‘Offline’, the man in question seems to appear from thin air, leaning casually against his door frame like he’s been there the entire time, like nothing’s out of the ordinary.
“Uhm,” Dream starts nervously, hoping George will ignore that he just very visibly jumped out of his chair upon turning and seeing him standing there, “hey George, can I… Help you with anything?”
George simply crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, eyes raking over every inch of Dream’s body carefully, considering. “I wonder,” he says, “you know, I think you could, actually. See, I have this problem…”
He doesn’t move an inch, but Dream still swallows his nerves, swallows the urge to run far away and hide from the predatory look his boyfriend’s giving him, and slowly sinks back into his chair.
“You see, my boyfriend and I have some very basic rules we follow when streaming or recording, just to make sure we don’t accidentally slip up and let everyone in on our little secret, you know? They’re very simple. Easy to follow. And yet…” George trails off and gives a dramatically disappointed sigh, eyes flickering down to inspect his socks like he’s not even really paying attention, “he just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants while I’m streaming live to tens of thousands of people.”
“Oh,” Dream flushes, bites his lip to stop himself from smiling, “that right? Sounds like a bit of an asshole move, what did he do?”
George laughs, and his eyes return to meet Dream’s gaze, dark and pointed. “Well, it’s more like what didn’t he do? He wouldn’t shut up about wanting me to fuck him for one, kept describing all the things he’d like me to do to him once the stream was over and how my voice was just so nice, and my lips were so pretty he couldn’t wait to have them on him.”
It’s the words he himself had used not even half an hour ago, but Dream still lets out a strangled sort of noise hearing them come from George’s mouth. “Yeah?” he asks, voice quiet, “that really is an asshole move. But it sounds like he didn’t technically break the rules, you know, if he was just messaging you. So I don’t think, uh- I don’t think you can really punish him.”
George quirks an eyebrow and sinks against the door frame a little more, casually inspects his nails against his arm like he’s considering it. “That so?” he asks, and Dream nods, “he didn’t technically break the rules... Interesting. So I guess I should let him off then, yeah? No need to punish him if he didn’t technically break the rules. In fact, I shouldn’t bother him at all, if he’s happy just sending messages then clearly he doesn’t need me.”
Dream almost gets up from his chair in protest, but George’s eyes snap to him immediately, locking him firmly in place with a warning look. Well. He seems to have made a miscalculation.
George takes a long moment, ignoring Dream’s nervous twitching and quiet whines as he stares at him like he can see straight into his soul or something. It’s uncomfortable, like everything in him is laid bare and George is judging him for his worth. He wants to be enough. He needs to be enough.
“George-”
“Beg.” His boyfriend interrupts him the second he breaks the silence, and he snaps his mouth shut immediately.
“What?” Dream asks, brain still catching up even though he knows exactly what George means, what he wants. What he has to do to get what he’s been waiting for the entire night.
“You heard me. Beg me to come over there and fuck you,” George slides from the door frame and takes the smallest of steps toward him, “and if you’re good enough, I might just be merciful and oblige.”
Dream’s brain still takes a moment to catch up, to process, and the silence hangs in the air for a long moment before George breaks it again.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks lightly, innocently, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing,”don't go getting all shy on me now, darling, I might just get bored and leave you here to deal with your little problem all on your own if you don’t hurry it up.”
“Wait-” Dream halts again from getting out of his chair at the sharp look his boyfriend gives him, “George no, please-”
“Please what?” George interrupts him, the light tone from earlier gone and replaced with something dark, something heavy and electric. Something magnetizing, pulling him in the same it does every single time.
He takes a shuddering breath and fiddles nervously with his fingers, looking away only for a moment before making sure to make direct eye contact as he speaks. “Please…” he says slowly, sounding so needy it’s more like a whine, “please fuck me. I need you, don’t make me beg any more, George, please.”
“I’ll make you beg however much I want, slut,” George says the moment he’s done speaking, crossing the room in a few, quick strides to grab Dream by the chin, “and I’ll touch you however I like, wherever I like, as much or as little as I like . Understood?”
He melts into the touch, shudders against the tight grip, feeling like if he tried to stand up right now his legs would probably collapse right underneath him from his own weight. God, George barely has to try to make him like this, weak and desperate, begging him without any real fight. He used to be better, he used to be able to resist .
At least, a little.
Now he doesn’t even want to. He just wants George.
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes blown wide as he stares hungrily up at him, “George... Yes, please-”
George lets go and Dream whines desperately as he walks away, not realising he’s just moving to the bed until he’s settling himself at the edge and spreading his legs to leave a space for him. “C’mere,” he says, and Dream’s too grateful he’s not leaving to react immediately, “now.”
It leaves no room for argument, not that he would anyway, and Dream rushes to comply. He falls to his knees in front of George immediately and lays his palms flat against his thighs, forcing himself not to whine like a fucking dog when fingers pet gently through his hair. God, he’s so far gone already, when did it become so easy? When did he lose his shame?
He can’t remember, it doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that he’s good. He has to be good, has to prove himself, has to be good enough for George to give him what he wants, and he’ll do anything.
“Good boy,” George praises him, pushing a stray hair away from his eyes and making Dream tremble from the way he’s looking at him, so soft, tender, intimate, “such a pretty boy, aren’t you? Look so good on your knees for me. If you hadn’t been such a brat tonight, maybe I’d go easy on you.”
And then without warning, George’s fingers push into his hair and grip harshly, pulling until Dream’s head is tilted as far back as it can go, his throat bared, easily accessible for whatever plans George has for him. Dream whimpers, holds back his begging temporarily because he knows that will get him nowhere for the moment.
Until he decides Dream’s being good enough for him, it isn’t wise to interrupt his process. He’ll either get completely ignored, or George will make his punishment worse. Not always in the fun way where he gets his brains fucked out, sometimes in the way where he gets brought to the edge of cumming before George pulls out of him, cums all over his face and then leaves him alone to just… Deal with it.
It’s hot, especially in retrospect when he’s gotten over the all encompassing need and desperation, but he really doesn’t want that for tonight.
He wants George to fuck him properly, like he’d been thinking about since he first started streaming and Dream had gotten the idea to start messing with him.
“Hm,” George hums quietly after a few moments of studying, his grip releasing the tiniest amount and letting Dream’s head fall forward to a slightly less uncomfortable angle, “but I suppose since you’re being such a good boy now, I don’t need to go all out on you, do I?”
Dream shakes his head quickly as much as he can with George’s restrictive grip. “No, please, please I’ll be really good, Georgie. I’ll be really, really good; do whatever you want, you don’t need to punish me.” He begs, then lets out a small moan when his hair is gripped harshly again, and his head is yanked forward.
George leans down, his other hand sliding against Dream’s cheek- gentle, a stark contrast to the force being used to hold him in place.
“Oh Dream,” he sighs, tilting his head down and pulling Dream’s up slightly to press their lips together in a soft kiss, “I thought you understood, you don’t get to make demands tonight. You don’t get to decide whether I’m going to punish you or not, do you? Good boys listen , do what they’re told and take what they can get.”
He shoves Dream back roughly as he lets go of his hair, his hands moving instead to his belt buckle, unclasping it carefully while Dream rights himself and waits patiently on his knees. He doesn’t apologise, there’s no point. George doesn’t seem to be in the listening mood tonight.
He may have gone a little bit too far during the stream.
He kind of wishes he’d done more .
“Now, if you’re quite done demanding things like a child throwing a tantrum,” George says as he pulls his belt free of the loops, unzips his trousers and stuffs his hand inside his boxers to pull out his already half-hard cock, “you’re going to be a good boy and do as I tell you, aren’t you? You’re gonna put that dirty little whore mouth of yours to some use and finish what you started.”
Dream whimpers and nods furiously, shuffling forward to lay his palms on George’s thighs again. He only hesitates for a moment to look up at him, and George leans back to rest on his hands casually, looking at Dream with a raised brow.
Well? What are you waiting for then?
He doesn’t need to hear George say it to get the point, turning back to the task at hand and already feeling himself starting to drool at the sight of the steadily hardening dick in front of him. Wasting no time, Dream immediately dives in, licks a stripe along the underside of his length, following a vein until he reaches the tip.
George lets out a groan as Dream slides his tongue past the foreskin, pushing it back with his fingers to expose the flushed, leaking head underneath. He tongues at the slit for a moment as fingers thread through his hair again, gentler this time as George pets him approvingly. Dream smiles and decides not to tease any further, wanting to please his boyfriend and hopefully avoid too severe a punishment.
He wraps his lips around George’s tip, sucks hard for a long moment and hums when George’s hips squirm underneath his touch, then slowly starts to descend, taking more and more into his mouth until he’s taken him down to the base. Luckily, his gag reflex isn’t playing up too badly tonight, so he only chokes a little bit as he tries to swallow around him and relax.
George gives him a moment to breath as he slowly pulls back till he’s got just the head in his mouth again and he only gets to lick at it for mere moments before the hand in his hair is pushing him back down, forcing him to take the entire length into his throat again. Dream whines and forces himself not to gag when George’s hips thrust slightly from the stimulation.
“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and Dream blinks up at him with slight tears in his eyes, “I didn’t meant to, your mouth’s just so fucking good , darling, so tight and wet, perfect for me.”
Dream moans softly from the praise, digs his nails lightly into George’s clothed thighs and turns his attention back to the now fully hard cock in his mouth, beginning to move with a new determination. It’s not just about being good, it’s about being so good George can’t help himself . He desperately wants to make him lose all semblance of control, just like he does for Dream.
“Fucking- Christ, Dream, you’re not holding back, are you baby?” George asks him as he bobs his head quickly, lathering his tongue along the length of him as best he can and practically drooling all over his cock as he tries to get it nice and wet.
He hums and tries to shake his head, but other than that continues on with his work.
It’s a struggle to suppress the urge to gag when George’s tip keeps bumping against the back of his throat, but somehow Dream manages it, pushing through with tears in his eyes as he bobs his head to a consistent rhythm.
The only sounds filling the air around them are sloppy, wet sucking noises and Dream’s light groans each time he swallows. It’s incredibly lewd, and he’d almost feel embarrassed by all the sounds his mouth’s making if George didn’t seem so into it.
He’s gripping Dream’s hair tight enough to hurt again, rocking into him every time Dream takes him into his throat again, his fingers clutching at the blankets behind him desperately to hold himself up. It’s hard to see from this angle, had to get a proper look at his face, but Dream can tell well enough that it’s pinched up in ecstasy.
When he feels George straining into his mouth, his hips stuttering and spasming against him, when he hears him moaning louder and louder and feels him start to twitch and leak onto his tongue, he knows he’s right on the edge. He becomes relentless, bobbing his head and curling his tongue in all the right places, using his fingers to stroke the base of George’s cock in time with the bobbing of his head.
It works fantastically. In no time at all, George is thrusting into his throat with little abandon, careful not to choke him but benign as rough as he can get away with until he finally, finally cums, spilling straight down Dream’s throat.
He pulls out right at the end of his high, making sure to dribble the last bits of cum down Dream’s chin just to look at him.
From experience, he knows that George always looks good with cum on his face, so he imagines it must be the same for him, and even if he doesn’t think he’s nearly as attractive as his boyfriend, George clearly doesn’t hold the same opinion. He stares down at Dream with a hunger he rarely shows, and Dream squirms happily under the attention.
That was good enough. He knows it was good enough.
“Dream,” George pants, still not fully recovered as he pats his thighs and beckons him into his lap, “c’mere, darling.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Dream eagerly crawls up and complies, settling himself into George’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck to anchor himself in place.
“That was really good,” George says softly, pulling him in for a small kiss before dragging his tongue along Dream’s lip, then down his chin, making him shudder, “suppose you deserve a reward then, right?”
Dream whines needily as George licks the cum from his skin, melting against him when George slots their mouths together again, tasting of himself.
“Please, George, need you.” He whines, grinding his crotch into George’s stomach and moaning softly at the way the fabric of his pyjama bottoms catches on his skin. There’s already a massive wet spot on the front from where his tip has been steadily leaking into the fabric, and he knows he’s not going to last long at all when George pushes his hand against it and grinds down.
He hasn’t even fucking touched himself and yet he’s close enough that George would only need to touch him for about thirty seconds before he came.
“Look at you,” George hums, begins mouthing along Dream’s jawline as he digs the heel of his hand into Dream’s cock and slowly pushes back and forth, “already so desperate, bet you could cum from this alone, couldn’t you?”
Dream whines, throwing his head back as George’s mouth follows the curve of his jaw, then starts moving south along the line of his throat. The hand persists, doing nothing for him except giving him the pressure and slight friction he needs to slowly inch closer and closer towards his own orgasm.
It should be embarrassing, how little it takes, but his mind is too focused on chasing the small bits of pleasure that he doesn’t have room for the shame.
“George,” he moans weakly as his hips grind back into the hand on him, surprised that George doesn’t pull off or hold him still at the very least, “George, fucking hell, I’m so-”
And then the hand is gone.
Dream whimpers, pulls back to blink at George in confusion, before he sees the predatory glint in his eye that does not match the innocent smile staring back at him. Then, he understands.
“No, I was good. I- I was good, Georgie I-” And then the hand pushes into his pyjama bottoms, fingers wrapping around his length and stroking gently for a few moments before pulling it out and making Dream wince at the cool air.
George gives him long, lazy pumps until Dream’s squirming in his lap and whimpering, and then his hand pulls away again. So they really are doing this.
“No, no, no-” Dream sobs, letting out a loud moan as George’s fingers curl around him once more, thumb pressing into the slit on his head to spread around some of the pre-cum, “please, please George, I need to cum, please let me-”
The hand leaves.
Moments pass. It returns. This time, George sets a brutal pace, working him over fast, squeezing him tight and paying careful attention to the tip with his thumb as he crooks and curls his fingers in all the right places, bringing him closer and closer and closer and-
Dream nearly screams in desperation as all movement stops yet again and George pulls back his hand. He moves to mouth at Dream’s collarbones as they both wait for his sensitive cock to stop bouncing madly between them, already straining desperately for release after such little teasing.
“I want you to remember this,” George says, his fingers only returning to Dream’s cock once he’s satisfied he’s not about to blow his load if he so much as breathes on him, “I want you to remember this. Next time you feel like being a brat? Like being the fucking cock-whore you are while I’m streaming ? I want you to remember what happens when you break a rule.”
He wants to argue, yell at him and call him an idiot because he didn’t technically break the rules and they both know it. George has done it to him more than enough times for them to have already established this, and yet . The double standard fucking sucks, but he can’t tell George that when he’s got his hand on Dream’s cock.
Not unless he wants to be left completely alone for the night to deal with his problem himself.
“I’m so-rry-” Dream chokes out as George brings him right to the brink again, then lets him go. He doesn’t know if he can handle much more of this.
“No you’re not,” George replies easily, baring his teeth against the crook of Dream’s neck and nipping at the skin lightly, “you’re not sorry at all, are you? This is exactly what you wanted, you knew you’d get punished right from the start, and you did it anyway. You want me to do this.”
He has no answer for that, so instead he simply whines, rests his cheek against George’s hair as he uselessly claws at the top of his back when the fingers curl back around him again .
He’s leaking pretty badly now, his cocked flushed bright red and straining for release, twitching at just the thought of George touching him again every time the hand leaves him. It never fucking stops leaving him.
Dream loses count of how many times George brings him to the edge just to yank him away with a bite to his neck and a harsh squeeze to his hip. It just keeps on happening over and over again. He can’t focus, can’t keep track of how long George has him there, putty in his hands as he strings him along, always keeping him so close to the edge and never letting him get too far away from it.
“God, look at you. I can barely touch you more than a few seconds before I need to stop now,” George laughs quietly after what feels like an eternity of silence, “you’re so sensitive, too.”
And then he swipes his thumb over Dream’s tip again, collecting an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his finger and dragging it to his lips to taste. He shudders just thinking about it, feeling like he’s about a second from cumming all over himself if George just looks at him the wrong way.
“You’re really, really close, huh? Can’t take much more, can you baby?” George asks, pulling back from his neck to look him properly in the eyes, and Dream nods quickly, voice too cracked and broken to speak anymore. Then George’s fingers curl back around him again, and he feels a wave of tears spring to his eyes at the relief of being touched again, and at the dread of knowing it’s not going to last.
When George removes his hand, they flow freely down his cheeks, and all his boyfriend does is laugh. He must look a sight right now.
Pathetic.
“I think you have just a little bit more left in you, don’t you?” George purrs into his ear as he grabs him again , wrapping his lips around Dream’s earlobe and making him shudder as he lightly sucks on it. He nods even though he doesn’t believe it, just wanting to appease George, wanting him to end this already.
It feels like they’ve been doing this for hours .
This time his hand moves lazily, dragging over his cock slowly, without much real force behind it like he’s fucking bored or something, like he’s getting sick of this little game they’re playing. He hopes he is so they can just end it already, but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind-
His brain short-circuits when George suddenly squeezes him tight, thumbs over his slit till Dream’s sobbing and squirming in his touch, jerking his hand hard and fast and perfect until he’s so close, so so close he’s-
And stop.
The hand pulls from him and Dream cries freely, sobbing and sniffling and clutching onto George like a lifeline as he shudders with his entire body. He can’t even feel embarrassed at how pathetic he looks, he just needs to cum. He just needs to cum so bad, that’s all. That’s all and then it’ll be over and he’ll do whatever George likes, just please.
But of course, George can’t hear his internal begging, and even if he could, he’d just ignore him anyway. Judging by the way he’s grinning and cooing at him as he wipes away Dream’s tears with long, delicate fingers, he’s enjoying this way too much to let it end. Not just yet.
“P-Pl..e..as..e.” Dream manages to whine, his voice so gone it’s barely a whisper. He has to try. He has to. He’s going to lose his mind if George doesn’t make him cum in the next thirty seconds.
“Aw baby, you really need it so bad, don’t you? Just look at you,” George coos, swiping away fresh tears as they roll down his cheeks, “have you learnt your lesson, Dream? Will you ever break one of our rules again?”
George pulls his chin so Dream can look straight into his eyes as he speaks. It takes a moment to focus, to blink through the tears so George’s face can come properly into view again, but he manages it somehow.
“N-No, I-” he sniffles, “I won’t break a rule ever again.” It’s so quiet he barely even hears it himself, but George seems to understand, even if he doesn’t catch every word.
He breaks out into a wide smile, pulls him into a deep kiss and wipes away his tears once more. “I know, darling, I know. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Here.” He says, wrapping his hand around Dream’s weeping cock one last time and finally, finally giving him what he needs.
It’s not hurried or lazy or slow this time, it’s just a steady build, taking his time without teasing him. He’s sobbing again at how good it feels, moaning George’s name over and over and over again as the fingers curl and stroke and run along him in all the right ways, dragging him closer and closer till the edge until finally-
But. Wait. No, George’s hand is leaving him, why is George leaving him? Why isn’t George touching him?
He’s been good! He learnt his lesson, George just said so! He earned this, he was good, so why-?
“Oh Dream,” George giggles at him as he pushes him from his lap, smirking as he stumbles to the floor, “you’re so cute, you know that? I know you won’t break a rule anymore, darling, but I have to hammer the point home, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll think you can get away with anything.”
Dream’s brain has completely stopped functioning, so all he can do is blink up from the floor at George, confused as he watches his boyfriend stand, tuck himself back into his trousers, zip himself up and start looping the belt around himself again.
“George?” He asks in a whisper, his legs shaking so bad he can’t even push himself onto his knees.
The smile George gives him is only a fraction softer.
“Don’t even think about getting yourself off tonight,” George says as he settles his belt back into place and turns on his heel to leave, “or I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The door clicks shut behind him, and suddenly Dream is completely, utterly alone.