Work Text:
When Sapnap says he has four piercings, of course no one believes him. He’s a wimp to pain. Dream watched him put off the shock stream for months. He cries when he stubs his toe. There’s no way he has four piercings .
The second thought after incredulity was where the piercings are. Dream lives with Sapnap. He sees his face every day, sees his barren and untouched skin, knows from how he eats they’re not in his mouth, knows from his perky nipples in the cool of their air conditioning that they aren’t there either.
“I don’t believe you,” George tells him, sharp and pointed in their call. Punz’s shimmers green too as he huffs in disbelief. Karl’s stays grey, and Dream knows it’s from the way he’s stuck in the same line of thought as Dream - he’s spent time with Sapnap too, knows his body, knows he doesn’t have any piercings .
“Show us,” Karl snips, short and concise, then. He says what they’re all thinking. It’s definitive, an order, but flippant because Sapnap doesn’t have any piercings .
But Sapnap turns on his camera. He shows them.
Sapnap sits in his desk chair, shirtless as he relaxes in his room. His chest is flushed pink with embarrassment that drifts down from the high points of his cheeks, like a Jackson Pollock of warm blood beneath skin. He’s awash with the blue glow of his screens and the rolling RGBs of his PC. His pecs are soft, his stomach softer, coated in a fine smattering of coarse, dark hair. His thighs are spread, spilling over the sides of the chair as he holds his knees wide. At the apex of them, where his hips are covered in grey cotton, he pulls his cock free, and it sits proudly, stirring to life in his grasp, angled toward his abdomen.
And God, what a sight it is.
His cock is fat - the kind where so much as looking at it makes Dream’s jaw ache and his tongue depress in anticipation to feel the stretch of it in his mouth. A vein snakes up the underside that’s exposed to him, splitting halfway and wrapping around either side of the shaft, burying deeper beneath the skin to hide. It’s difficult to see with the front on view Sapnap gives them, but Dream can tell it curves towards his torso softly. At the tip, the foreskin stretches around the pink and shiny head, ending halfway from where Dream can see the glans starts, foreskin pointed around the curved base of the head.
And most importantly, and mouth-wateringly, along the thickness of the underside of his cock, starting halfway up, sits three thick silver barbells, buried beneath the skin in a ladder that extended up towards the head.
“Holy fuck ,” Punz moans, breathless and drawn out, snapping Dream from his drowning thoughts, enraptured by the sight of Sapnap. Sapnap huffs in laughter, awkward and embarrassed.
“Told you I wasn’t lying,” he mumbles, holding a hand across his face to try to hide the blush there that settles under the gaze of his friends.
“Where’s…,” Karl asks, his voice breaking under the tension. It sounds pained, restrained. Like he’s holding himself back. He swallows, and the noise makes Dream feel better about the somersaults his stomach is performing.“Where’s the fourth one?”
Sapnap looks down at his cock, as though he doesn’t know it well enough to be sure without looking. Dream’s sure that isn’t the case. “It’s uh,” Sapnap stalls, his fist withdrawing and coming to the tip of his cock. His thumb and index finger pinch the sides of the head softly, pulling the foreskin back, exposing the head. As the foreskin rolls down, another silver barbell is exposed, right beneath the head at the frenum where his foreskin connects to the head. It wasn’t the way the foreskin wrapped around the base of the head - it was the barbell Dream could see there. “Here,” he says, voice soft as he awaits their reactions.
Dream can’t take it anymore. A coil of molten copper burns low in his abdomen, and his sweats suddenly feel too firm for comfort despite being made of soft polyester. His hoodie feels like it presses to close to his throat, but in a way it helps keep him caught on how aroused he is and how out of control he feels . He pushes his chair back with such force that the wheels crunch and click under the weight of it, lighting up his icon in the call.
“I’m coming down,” Dream forces out, tight and pained. He hears Sapnap’s confused questioning noise, but his headphones are already torn from his head and discarded to the desk.
Dream’s footfalls are heavy as he trips his way down the stairs, nearly feeling his legs fail him under the pressure of his speed and desire. When he reaches Sapnap’s door, he steels himself for a moment, holding the cool steel of the doorknob in his palm. He takes a deep breath in, and tells himself it isn’t as shaky as it feels. He swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth and opens the door.
Sapnap hasn’t moved far in the moment it took Dream to make his way to his room. When he opens the door, Sapnap spins around in the chair to face him. Dream’s eyes are glued to Sapnap’s, like a lion stalking its prey. Dream makes his way forward in a push, and it feels like swimming through molasses with the tension in the air. When Dream gets close, he stands between Sapnap’s knees, looking down to his pink mouth and wide eyes through his curtained lashes. From the corner of his eye, he can see how they’re framed, perfectly positioned to give George, Karl, and Punz a front seat show.
So he does. Dream drops to his knees between Sapnap’s thighs, his hands coming to stroke at the pasty white skin covered in coarse hair long enough to feel soft again. He sits on his shins, near-perfect eye level with the gift he’s been given.
“W-what are you doing, dude?” Sapnap stammers, breathless like Dream punched the air from his chest when he entered the room. He curls in on himself enough that his knees knock at Dream’s shoulders.
“You can’t just show us that and not expect him to want to blow you,” George retorts. Dream hears it muffled through Sapnap’s headphones, a roar in the otherwise silence of the room. Dream nodes his head emphatically.
“Are you gonna let him?” he hears Punz ask, voice cracking in Dream’s ears. Sapnap’s eyes widen at that, and his lips softly part. One of his hands come down to pet at Dream’s hair, contemplative.
“Please let him,” Dream hears Karl cry, eagerness making his words slur together from the speed of his begging.
And Sapnap does.