Archive of Our Own

George should probably feel some sort of guilt about his pervasion, but he really can’t bring himself to. In his defence, Dream is watching just as much as George is, and judging by his tight grip on George’s ankle, he’s just as enthralled. George is sitting on the edge of the bench press, fingers carding through soft caramel curls. Dream is between his legs facing outwards, facing Sapnap.

Sapnap is boxing. Three minute rounds, thirty seconds rest. He has one AirPod in, the other out so he can follow along with George and Dream’s conversations and chip in, panting and breathless, during his rests. He’s probably paying more attention to all the talk than George is.

He stretched first to limber up, then warmed up with ten minutes on a treadmill, gradually cranking up the speed. Legs moving rhythmically, strong muscles clear under the layer of soft fat. Cap off, hair tousled. Sweat glistening across his skin, face blooming red from the exertion.

He looks like sex, is the thing, and the wires crossed far too easily in George’s head.

The first time he’d hung out with Sapnap while he was working out was because they were mid-argument and he had to prove his point; by the end of Sapnap’s hour-long workout George had, all on his own, confused himself into talking his way around to agreeing with Sapnap. He can’t even remember what they were arguing about, just knows that his weakness had cost him his first loss; usually their bickering fizzles out with no real resolution and they’ll find something else to goad each other with.

He dragged Dream with him the second time, because they’re dating and he feels guilty about watching Sapnap grunt and sweat and move when he has a perfectly good boyfriend who can do all those things for him. Dream had dragged George away halfway through under some bogus pretence; he’d mumbled out several what the fucks and pushed George against the slammed bedroom door, lips clashing, and then George had shoved him onto their bed and fucked him hard and fast and thought of sinfully small workout shorts and strong, malleable thighs the whole time.

“Is this gonna be, like, a thing?” Dream mumbles out once they’re done.

“Dunno,” George says, though he does know that it is very much going to be a thing.

And it is.

Sapnap doesn’t really have much of a workout schedule, he just does it when he feels like it, usually every couple of days. Luckily, George had already taken to following him around; or maybe Sapnap had taken to following him around. Either way, they’re near each other more often than not, and George doesn’t find it too difficult to slip into the home gym with him, texting Dream to join him under the guise of wanting someone to talk to while Sapnap is distracted.

It’s a simple routine. They watch Sapnap work out — usually he boxes, sometimes he does squats and pushups and sit ups, sometimes he’ll just pump out several miles on the treadmill or the exercise bike — and then they go and have sex. They don’t talk about it. George assumes they’re on the same page; if they're not, he’ll figure out some kind of defence. The wires are crossed.

It builds, though. Sometimes George has to bite into Dream’s neck to stop himself from groaning out Sapnap’s name. Sometimes he finds himself staring at Sapnap outside of his workouts, just looking for the sake of looking, not even thinking anything sinful or depraved. Okay maybe sometimes he’s thinking things that are sinful and depraved, but sometimes he finds himself examining the shape of Sapnap’s hands and thinking how nicely they’d fit around his, or he hears Sapnap’s laugh and it lights him up with the same Pavlovian effect that Dream’s laughter has on him.

He doesn’t really know what’s going on with him but he makes up for it by giving Dream almost all the attention he asks for, letting him curl himself around George when they’re sleeping even though it makes him feel sort of suffocated, treating him like a prince when they have sex on the days Sapnap doesn’t work out, letting his hands soften and the sweet praise Dream laps up like ambrosia spill easily off his tongue. It builds, though, and eventually after Sapnap does a particularly strenuous amount of deadlifts the wrong thing spills off his tongue. He doesn't even notice, thrusting through the aftershocks of his orgasm and tightening his fist around Dream’s dick to help him through his, laving his tongue across the purpling marks adorning Dream’s neck.

“Okay,” Dream says, once he’s caught his breath back. “So this is a thing.”

“Yup,” George says, pulling out and watching his cum drip from Dream’s puckering hole.

“I feel like it's reached the point where we should probably talk about it.”

“What point?”

“The point where you say our best friend’s name when you’re fucking me, George."

His blood runs cold. His jaw clenches, tongue freezing. “You’re hearing things,” he manages to mutter.

“Yeah, I’m hearing you moan Sapnap,” Dream says, following his high-pitched whimper of the name with a obnoxious whine and a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who sounds like that, actually,” George says, shoving two fingers inside Dream to prove his point; sure enough, a pained whimper slips from his mouth at the overstimulation. George pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Dream’s stomach, next to the mess that's already there.

“His fingers would be better than yours, I think," Dream says, so casually that it takes George a few moments to comprehend the words.

“What?” he spits, shocked and offended and maybe just slightly intrigued.

“Because they’re bigger than yours,” Dream says, like it’s obvious.

George scoffs. “You of all people should know that size isn’t everything, Dream, or do I need to train you all over again?”

“Yes sir, I know sir, my massive dick is purely ornamental, sir,” Dream says, monotone and dutiful, before breaking out into a grin.

“You’re lucky you already came, you ungrateful bitch,” George says. “What do we need to talk about, then?”

“I dunno. Objectively speaking it’s weird that you said my best friend’s name with your dick in my ass, but also it’s, like, us. And it’s Sapnap. So I get it. And it’s hot, or whatever, I dunno. Mostly I guess I’m wondering if we should tell him. Because he’s going to find out eventually, George, I’m gonna start acting weird and I can’t lie to him.”

“And what, exactly, would we be telling Sapnap?”

“Ask him if he wants to join, I guess, I dunno.”

“Okay, well, we’re not doing that. If he finds out he finds out, I’m not letting him have the satisfaction of knowing that seeing him do a couple of squats basically gives me a hard-on.”

“We should, like, try to get caught, though, it could be funny.”

“Fucking exhibitionist,” George says. He runs his clean fingers though the mess on Dream’s stomach, drawing a happy face and then slipping them into Dream's mouth, pleased when he sucks obediently. “Alright, fine. I have a good idea. Shower or bath?”

The preparation for the good idea goes swimmingly. The next time Sapnap works out, George and Dream watch the slight jiggle of his thighs and love handles beneath the tight black shine of his workout gear as he pounds his gloved fists into a bag, chest heaving with panted breaths, skin slick with sweat.

Once he’s done, George strikes up a conversation with him and shoos Dream off as he trails Sapnap to his room. He perches on Sapnap’s bed, rambling aimlessly.

“Get out, dude, I’m having a shower,” Sapnap interrupts. George huffs and storms out of his room, and waits a few minutes. This has happened before a couple of times, though never after a workout — Sapnap will kick George out of his bedroom because he strips in there so he can put his dirty clothes directly into his laundry hamper.

It’s a weird system, in George’s opinion, but it works in his favour right now. He’s quiet as he plucks the newly discarded clothes from the hamper, pulling out shorts, shirt. Dithers over it before grabbing the boxers as well. In for a penny in for a pound or whatever.

He takes his spoils downstairs to Dream’s bedroom, finds his boyfriend sprawled on the bed with a hand rubbing over the tent in his sweatpants. He snatches it guiltily away as George’s enters the room, but it’s not quick enough.

“I wasn’t getting off! I was just bored, I was waiting for you for hours,” Dream pouts.

“I think maybe you need to learn exactly what waiting for hours feels like.” George continues speaking over Dream’s protests, “Not right now, though, I’ve got something better planned.”

Dream perks right up, listens eagerly for George to explain.

“Strip,” George says. He’s still standing by the door, the clothes hidden behind his back.

“Is this, like, the plan plan?” Dream asks, clambering out of bed to tug off his hoodie, exposing the light hair trailing from his navel to his waistband, more curling across his chest, which is bruised with harsh teethmarks. George likes to bite, okay, it’s fun. Dream makes these pretty little mewling noises when he sinks his teeth in hard enough.

“Yes, dear,” George says. “This is the plan plan.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Dream says, wobbling as he kicks off his sweats and boxers. He steadies himself and gazes expectantly at George. His dick is hard, flushed and straining upwards, precum glistening over the head.

“Don’t talk back,” George says, though he’s too excited to make it properly snappy. Dream shuts up anyway, somehow manages to make it look like he’s peering up at George through his eyelashes even though he’s like half a foot taller or something stupid.

George holds out the crumpled bundle of clothes. It’s all sportswear, sleek and sort of shiny, black shorts and a dark grey t-shirt. The boxers are blue, though. George knew that already because they were long enough and the shorts short enough that the underwear poked out from underneath, vivid blue. Like a bowerbird’s nest or whatever, like seduction. The modern day version of seeing a Victorian lady’s ankle.

George had spent most of the work out staring at the hem, at the strip of blue, watching the flex of the muscles and the movement of the shorts and the curve of his ass, because everyone goes on and on about Sapnap’s thighs and they’re right to do so but there’s not enough talk in George’s opinion about how the ass is part of the whole thunder thighs deal, plump and ripe and begging to be bitten —

“Holy shit,” Dream says. “Is that — did you — ?”

“Yes,” George says, smug. “It is and I did. Put it on. Boxers, shorts, shirt. It might be kinda snug but that’s fine.”

“You want me to put my clothes back on?” Dream huffs, playfully annoyed.

“No, I want you to put Sapnap’s clothes on.”

George crosses the room, flops onto the bed to wait.

The boxers and shorts fit Dream fine, looking even shorter on his longer legs, pale soft skin exposed. The shirt is tighter, though, straining across his shoulders and taut across his chest, the slight swell of his tummy visible in a strip of pale skin the hem doesn’t quite cover.

“Is it good?” Dream asks, shyness making him soft.

“Very good,” George says, smiling when Dream lights up at the praise, bouncing onto the bed to smother George’s face in wet kisses, George giggling as he shrieks, “Dream! Down, bad dog!”

“No,” Dream whines, stopping his attack in favour of rubbing his scratchy cheek against George’s smooth neck. “I’m good, you said I was good.”

“I said the clothes were good,” George corrects teasingly, hands petting through Dream’s curls. “You need to stop being so cute, this is supposed to be sexy and you’re just being silly.”

“I’m sexy,” Dream grumbles. He’s on his hands and knees, and he arches his back, wiggles his hips around a bit. It’s a cute wiggle rather than a sexy one and George has to fight down endearment. “I’m so sexy and now we’re going to have sex.”

He shifts as he says it, kneeling up to show off the clothes, hands smoothing up over his stomach, wrinkling the t-shirt up to display more soft skin, fingers pinching at his own nipples through the fabric. When he reaches the collar of the shirt he pulls it up over his nose and mouth, peering at George as he inhales deeply, bright eyes fluttering.

“Smells like him,” he mutters, like it’s a revelation.

“Yeah, he just spent like an hour vigorously exercising in it, that’s kind of the whole point of this,” George laughs. “Swapsies, I want you sitting against the pillows.”

They shuffle around, Dream settling back against the pillows, squirming around to get comfortable. George lays on his stomach, buries his face into the crotch of his shorts as soon as Dream has stilled. The scent is strong, lusty, Dream’s dripping desire mingling with the stronger stench of sharp sweat, effort and strength evident. It’s intoxicating. It takes George a second to to pull himself together, away from the source, effort to stop himself from mindlessly rutting against the mattress like some kind of sex-crazed dog. That’s Dream’s job, not his.

George kisses over Dream’s dick, straining against its cloth prison, sucks the tip through the fabric, sitting up to take in Dream’s glazed over eyes. He fiddles with the hem of the boxers before lifting it up so it snaps back down on Dream’s thigh, grinning as Dream hisses at the sting.

Dream’s hands flutter excitedly before settling to loosely grip George's waist as he straddles Dream’s lap. He slips his hands halfway under the waistband of the boxers to knead at the soft flesh of Dream’s hips, pressing his nose into the collar of Sapnap’s shirt. The sharp tang of sweat fills his head, sweetened with just a touch of lingering deodorant, his head swimming with the strong scent of Sapnap.

Dream knows better than to rush him, so they stay like that for a while, George occasionally pressing kisses or sucking bruises onto Dream’s neck before sniffing along the shirt again.

“Can I touch you?” Dream whispers. He’s been good so far, hands settled on George’s hips, only occasionally tapping out nonsense rhythms with the pads of his fingers.

“How do you wanna touch me, puppy?” George asks, and licks along the neckline of the shirt, the tiniest hint of fabric rough against the edge of his tongue, Dream’s soft skin running smooth under the rest.

Dream’s hands slide down, and George tuts. “Words, puppy. D’you think Sapnap would want to be puppy as well? And then I’d have two puppies to play with, that would be fun, wouldn’t it? You could rut against each other all desperate and useless and then when you tire yourselves out I’ll be there to properly help you.”

Dream whimpers, high and whiny. George smiles softly, presses a kiss to his cheek. “But you’ll be my best puppy, won’t you. You’ll be good for me, you’ve always been so good for me. I think Sapnap will probably be naughty, I’ll have to teach him how to behave.”

“I’m good,” Dream mumbles, pulling George closer.

“Uh uh, puppy, you need to use your words. What do you want me to do? You have to be a good boy and ask for it.”

“Want you to fuck me, please sir.” Dream’s hands are heavy on his waist even through George’s t-shirt.

George hums thoughtfully, nips at Dream’s collarbone. “Hmm… no, I don’t think so. I have a better plan.”

“Please,” Dream whimpers. “Can you — can you touch me, please I need it.”

George shushes him, kisses the pout off his lips, hands tracing the hem of the boxers, running over the fabric to push his shorts up, massaging his thighs. Dream for all his height and strength is pretty lanky, especially his legs, there’s enough give to feel good but George can’t help but imagine squeezing deeper, feeling strong muscles evident under a thick layer of plush flesh.

Dream keens, and George wonders if Sapnap is just as pathetic with his noises, desperate to the point of sounding almost pained.

He retracts his hands, ghosts his finger across the strip of pale hairy skin, laughs at the way Dream squirms from the delicate touch.

“You’re so cute,” George says, ducking his head down to press his face into the softness of Dream’s chest, breathing in the smell of sweat and desperation. He dips his fingers under the waistband of the shorts, pulls it out and snaps it free, leaning up to drink Dream’s whine straight out of his mouth. “So good for me. My good little puppy, you’re so small for me, aren’t you? Gonna make you feel good now, and you’re gonna sit still and thank me for it, okay?”

“Thank you,” Dream says, voice soft and small, tilting his chin up to silently ask for another kiss, which George gladly gives him, licking into his mouth and nipping at his lips while his hand finds the tent in Dream’s — Sapnap’s— shorts, palm applying pressure to the twitching ache.

Dream groans at the attention, slurs out another thank you. George changes his mind, squeezes the swell of Dream’s dick before shifting his straddle to press one of his thighs between Dream’s legs, flush to the strain of his erection.

“You’re in charge of getting yourself off,” George says, lips pressed to Dream’s ear. “You rut up against my leg like the desperate little thing you are and you make those pretty little whimpers. You keep your hands still and let me kiss you.”

Dream is grinding against him as soon as he’s given permission to, hips churning up to rut his clothed dick against George’s thigh. George kisses his lips at first, licks up all his whines, before biting and sucking at the soft skin just under the corner of his jaw, down his throat, at the crook of his neck, tilting his head down to nuzzle against the shirt, breathing almost as desperate as Dream’s pants. It’s so good, it’s so good, hot and dirty and running through his veins like magma.

Dream cums with a tiny whine, hips stuttering against George’s leg a few more time before stilling.

George slips his hand into his own shorts, hisses as he makes contact with his aching dick, pulls it out and starts stroking quickly, frenzied, Dream’s hands twitching on his hips. He tilts lower, to the side, presses his face to the crook of Dream’s armpit where the smell is strongest, two seperate layers of sweat mingling, breathes in deep and heavy and breathes out with a sigh as he cums.

He collapses into Dream’s arms, kisses messily at his neck.

“Holy fuck Sap you smell so good,” he slurs out against Dream’s skin, earning a whiny huff. “Sh, puppy, I know, I've got you Dreamie baby. My baby. Was that good? That was epic, right? You came in your pants like an idiot. Like a good little puppy like I asked, I mean, you did very good.”

“I know,” Dream says, sounding surprisingly collected. “I’m very good.”

“You are,” George agrees, pecking kisses over his mouth. He leans back to survey the damage. A damp spot in the shorts from Dream’s cum soaked into both boxers and shorts. Thick spatters of white over the t-shirt from George’s cum. It looks good, Dream looks good, all ravished and defiled and whatnot. “So good for me. Shower time before you steal my branding and become stickyboy69?”

George lets the dirty clothes sit on the floor of Dream’s room for the rest of the day. Dream forgets about them, they melt into the rest of the mess for him, but George is hyperaware of them.

He can smell them, the musk and lust tearing through the soft flowery scent of Dream’s skin care routine and the rainbow of his bath bombs and all the other pretty products he uses. The knowledge of it sits under his skin like an itch, only satisfied when he scratches at it with fantasy after fantasy.

To pacify his guilt he includes Dream in all of them, eager and excited in contrast to Sapnap’s mocking misdemeanours.

Sapnap bent over, thighs and ass jiggling with every harsh thrust of George’s hips, and then he cums early and without asking like the stupid mutt he is and George will tug his hair and press his face into his own mess, make him lick it up, kiss Dream all soft and sweet as Sapnap whines so he can see how he’ll be rewarded if he puts the effort into being good —

“You’re, like, insatiable,” Dream says, somewhat garbled by toothpaste, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “Stop jacking off and come brush your teeth with me and then we can kiss.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” George says, but he pulls his hand away from his half-hard cock and slips out of bed to wash his hands and face and mind with Dream’s rosy soap.

So the clothes stay on the floor overnight, and the next day Dream gets up to go and do some boring stupid work thing and George is left all alone in bed with nothing and no one to entertain himself with.

He sleepily scrolls TikTok for a few minutes, and then sits up to stretch, fully planning to lie back down and curl up for a few more hours. The discarded clothes catch his gaze, though, the lingering fog of sleep whisked quickly away.

He slips out of bed, crosses the room to kick cautiously at the clothes like they’re some potentially dangerous animal. He’s only wearing boxers, so he grabs one of Dream’s hoodies from the walk-in wardrobe — closet, he amends. His brain twists the word overly American, obnoxious and nasally.

The hoodie swamps him, warm and soft. He eyes the clothes for a few moments more, twisting his phone in his hands.

Sapnap picks up basically straight away.

“What,” he says, with put-upon annoyance.

“Where are you?” George asks.

“Has your little boyfriend abandoned you?” Sapnap says, amused and sickly sweet.

“Where are you, I’m bored. We should play ping pong.”

“I’m making breakfast. I’m not playing ping pong, we could do basketball though.”

“Pussy,” George says, scooping up the clothes, folding them over so he doesn’t have to touch the cumstains because, ew.

“Oh so I’m a pussy for not playing ping pong, but you won’t play basketball with me? Hypocrite. Pussy. Fucking catboy.”

“Fucking bitchboy,” George counters, trotting towards the laundry room, which just so happens to be located on the other side of the kitchen.

Just as Sapnap starts retorting George hangs up, grinning.

Sapnap scowls at him as he enters the living room. He’s fussing about with something on the kitchen island, and George wanders over to see what it is and if he can coax Sapnap into giving him some.

The clothes feel heavy in his hands, as if soaking wet.

“That looks inedible,” George says, rounding the counter.

“That looks inedible,” Sapnap counters absently. He’s scooping leftovers from various plastic containers and setting them on a plate.

“Probably because it’s clothes, idiot,” George says. “Make a plate for me.”

“No,” Sapnap says.

“Yes,” George insists, flicking the brim of Sapnap’s cap, nearly knocking it off his head.

“Hey! What’s your issue, asshole — are those my clothes?”

“Yup. Serve me a plate of food, asshole.”

“Why do you have my clothes?” He sounds amused, a little confused, not really all that concerned about it. George scowls.

“I took them. For fun. And now they’re dirty so I’m going to wash them.”

Sapnap’s confusion deepens, sharpens somewhat.

“George.”

“Sapnap.”

“Did I do something?” Sapnap asks. He’s annoyed now, which is not at all what George wants.

“No? What?”

“So you just jacked off on my clothes for fun.”

There’s a pause. George’s instinct is to deny the accusation but it’s kind of very much technically true.

“Yes,” he says slowly.

Sapnap opens his mouth, fire flashing in his marbled green eyes, so George keeps talking, keeps shovelling, though he’s not really sure which way he’s shoving the dirt — into the hole or out of it?

“Because Dream said it would be funny, and I figured that yeah it would be pretty funny, and then we did it and it was very funny. So if you bitch about it you’re outvoted and outweighed two to one, so suck it up. Or I’ll make you lick it up.”

Sapnap blinks at him, arguments displaced by bemusement. “What.”

“Like, lick up the cum. It’s a pun. Or you could suck it I guess, I don’t know.”

“You can suck it,” Sapnap mutters, turning away to put the plastic lids back on the containers. “Fucking freak. Go and fucking wash them, then. Keep them or burn them I don’t give a shit, I don’t want them now that they’re contaminated with the DNF spunk.”

“Spunk. What’s your issue, spunk,” George laughs, dodging expertly out of the way as Sapnap tries to knock into him as he carries the stacked containers back to the fridge.

“My issue is you, fucker, I liked those shorts!”

“So do I,” George says, and then stumbles a bit because he sounds far more earnest and eager than, like, seductive, which is what he was trying for. “That’s — that’s why I, you know. Utilised them.”

Sapnap twists around, hands empty. The fridge slams shut behind him and George has to fight down a flinch.

“George,” Sapnap drawls.

“Sapnap,” George spits back, feeling awfully caught in a way that’s unrelated to the dirtied garments he’s still cradling. Or not cradling, he’s just holding them in a normal manner.

“You like my shorts,” Sapnap says, voice low and tumultuous, the joke not quite landing, the flirting not quite certain.

“I do,” George says. “Well. I mean the shorts are just shorts, really, it’s the rest of it all that I like.”

“The rest of the clothes?” Sapnap says, tentatively teasing.

“No,” George says. He’s nervous, his heart trickling into his hands and trembling there, but he can see the hitch of Sapnap’s chest, the intrigue and interest lurking in his eyes.

“So… what’s the rest of it all, then?”

Dream is easy to read and easy to love, all fanged grins and engulfing touches, but George and Sapnap have always been meaner and therefore more guarded with each other. George could be plummeting down into the completely wrong conclusion right now but also it’s just sex and George knows for a fact that Sapnap likes sex so really there’s nothing to lose and if he is embarrassingly mistaken he can say it was a bet or blame it on Dream or something.

“You.” It’s short and simple and to the point and true and George is really really overthinking this for some strange reason. It’s Sapnap, his favourite idiot, why is he so nervous to ask him if he wants to get dicked down by his favourite idiots?

“Me,” Sapnap says, lips curving up into a tight smile like he’s getting ready to be laughed at.

“Yes, you. You and your stupid fucking workout shorts and your muscles and thighs and ass and — and Dream, to be clear, Dream is obsessed with it and so he was wondering if you’d want to like… have sex sometime or whatever.” It’s clumsily worded and Sapnap can definitely see through his coverups but whatever, at least it’s out there now, even if Sapnap says no —

“Sure,” Sapnap says, immediately.

The lack of hesitation makes George falter a bit but he gathers himself quickly, shock shifting into relief and delight as he squashes away all of his anxiousness.

“Really? You’re so easy,” he smirks. Sapnap grins in return, equally sharp and determined.

“I have one condition. I get to fuck you.”

“No,” George laughs. “You can fuck Dream, if you want.”

“I don’t want to fuck Dream, I want to fuck you. And you want that as well, don’t you? You’re so desperate for me, you little freak.” Sapnap’s voice is low, amused, and there’s a definitive viciousness to it that claws along George’s spine.

“I’m not desperate for you.”

“Desperate for anyone, then? Your boyfriend just doesn’t cut it anymore?”

“Don’t even insinuate that,” George spits.

“It’s true, though. You’ve gotta whore yourself out to be actually, properly satisfied. Fucking slut. One dick isn’t enough for you, you need more, you need to stretch out your tight little hole until it’s gaping and dripping, you need to be so full you can see it in your stomach.” Sapnap crowds forwards, his stronger body trapping George against the counter, his hand pressed low on George’s tummy. His heavy breaths hit George’s ear and then he murmurs, hand pushing deeper, “Right here.”

There’s a silence. George can feel Sapnap’s body heat radiating over him, can smell the slight tang of his sweat.

“Sapnap,” he mumbles, pitching it up into slight whine, battling down a grin at the way Sapnap sucks in a breath.

“George,” Sapnap replies, sounding awed and eager, just as puppy-dog as Dream is. George has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You want me to be a good little slut for you?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap breathes out.

George laughs, bright and bitter and loud in their closeness. He can feel Sapnap’s composure slip, shocked, and takes the chance to slip out of his grasp. “You’re fucking stupid. You wanna know how your clothes got like this? I had Dream hump my leg like a dog while he was wearing them and I imagined it was you all whiny and desperate for me. And soon I won’t need to imagine it, right?”

Sapnap grinds his jaw to the side. “You’re the one who wants this. My condition is that I get to fuck you stupid. You get that or you get nothing, Georgie, and you’re the one who wants it so bad. You’re the one who wants to whore yourself out to your boyfriend’s best friend.”

“You’re my best friend as well,” George says, petulant and maybe a little hurt and definitely focusing on the wrong thing.

“Yeah, I know, idiot, and you’re mine, but that’s, like, the fantasy, right? The… weird little cucking-cheating thing you’re doing.”

“It’s not a cheating thing,” George says. “Dream’s going to be there as well.”

“Tied up in the corner?” Sapnap says, teasing but maybe slightly serious.

“No? You watch weird porn. I haven’t planned the scene yet, but he’s going to be involved, idiot. It’s a threesome thing not a cheating thing.”

“Okay,” Sapnap shrugs. “Cool. So do you need time to plan? And prep?”

“I’m not bottoming,” George says, firm. “Here, how about we both fuck Dream at the same time.”

“No,” Sapnap scoffs.

“And then,” George continues, struck with a sudden inspiration. “Whoever cums first has to bottom for the other person.”

Sapnap nods slowly. “Okay. That seems… fair. Fun. Whatever. So are we gonna do it now, or…?”

“Desperate,” George chides. “Does tonight sound okay?”

“Tonight is good,” Sapnap says, failing to tamp down a bright, genuine smile.

George affects boredom as he says, “Okay. Sure. Maybe if you don’t lose too pathetically I’ll give you a chance for a rematch sometime.”

George curls up in the bed in Dream’s office for the rest of the day. Intermittently he demands that they go to bed to watch a movie, and eventually Dream caves, saving the progress on whatever project he was working on and letting George clamber up onto his back to be carried to their bedroom via the kitchen, where Dream heats up a couple of meal packets and George fishes through the pantry in search of plain crisps and chocolate for later on.

“Can I have a piece?” Dream asks, opening his mouth expectantly even though George is clearly holding the packet of chocolate with no plans to open it anytime soon.

“Dogs can’t have chocolate,” George says. “Stay like that and get on your knees and I can give you a treat, though.”

“Not in the kitchen, that’s unsanitary,” Dream grimaces. George makes a mental note to fuck Dream over the counter sometime. Maybe shove his face against the fridge and rail him the next time he steals George’s food.

They bring the goods to Dream’s bedroom, George settling into his place in Dream’s lap while they bicker over what to watch. George is distracted and gives up without much fight, preoccupied with checking his phone every ten seconds.

“What’s got you all antsy?” Dream asks as the opening of some tv show plays.

“Just excited,” George says, making a conscious effort to stop wriggling.

“About anything in particular? Or just in general?” Dream asks, amused. His hand is slipped up under George’s hoodie, fingertips stroking over his hip.

“Excited to see you get wrecked tonight,” George says, leaning back and tilting his head for a kiss.

“You could wreck me right now,” Dream whispers, his lips soft against George’s.

“Mm, not yet. We have to wait for the special guest,” George replies, snatching one more kiss and turning back to the screen.

Dream’s hand on his hip stills, then squeezes in a sharp pinch. “George! Are you — did you — like actually? Tonight? For real?”

“Unless he chickens out. I challenged him to a game that he’s going to lose, so…” George shrugs. Dream can probably see or sense his smile even though he’s turned away but he feigns aloofness anyway.

“What’s the game?”

“Whoever cums first has to bottom.”

Dream lets out a huff. “That’s stupid.”

“Okay. Fine. We won’t do it then,” George says, slumping back against Dream. “You didn’t even let me finish telling you about it but sure, whatever you say, puppy dog.”

“Okay no no no, tell me about it. I’m sorry for interrupting,” Dream pouts, wrapping his arm around George’s waist to squish him closer.

“No, it’s fine, you’re obviously not interested in hearing about it, I’ll just think of something else. Maybe I can put you in a chair in the corner and have you watch me wreck him instead.”

Dream’s whine isn’t even a proper response, just a miserable wordless keen, his body squishing up so he can bury his face in George’s neck.

“Okay, baby, stop whinging, I’ll tell you,” George grumbles. “Let go of me, let me turn around.”

Dream keeps a careful hold of him as George wriggles around to straddle Dream’s legs, like he’s worried if he lets go George will make a break for it or something. George’s phone dings and excitement zings through him but he has something more interesting in his hands right now, Sapnap can wait a few moments.

Dream is pouting, arm settling around George’s waist to pull him closer. George resists the drag, laying a hand on Dream’s chest to keep the slight distance.

“Dream. Stop, I need to show you something,” George chides. He slides his hand down Dream’s torso, heavy and slow, slipping it up under his shirt to settle just under his navel. Dream’s pupils are blown wide, his mouth slipped slightly open, his quickened breaths tangible under George’s hand.

“I’m gonna fuck Sapnap tonight,” George murmurs. “But first, we’re gonna fuck you. Both at once. Sound nice, puppy?”

“Yes,” Dream breathes out. There’s a moment of lag before he starts nodding vigorously, squeezing George into a tight hug. “Yes please George that sounds so nice thank you thank you.”

“Yeah?” George says, equally endeared and amused, pinching at Dream’s hip and leaning up to kiss away his whine of complaint. He pulls away to fumble for his phone, opening up his messages as Dream kisses at his neck.

hi, Sapnap has texted. Several times over. Needy little bitch.

what. George replies.

it’s tonight

okay and?

so can i go to your room now?

idk can u

There’s no response. Just as George is about to text something along the lines of fine u can there’s a knock at the door.

Both of them tense up and then giggle about it.

“Come in!” George calls out. He was planning to make out with Dream for a bit and ignore Sapnap but his impatient intrigue takes over and he twists around on Dream’s lap to watch Sapnap as he walks in.

“Hi,” he says, hovering by the door. He’s in shorts and a purple hoodie, his hat plain black.

“Hi!” Dream says. “Did you get the video idea I sent you earlier? I thought it would be good for your channel because —”

“Dream,” George says. “Time and place, darling.”

“Sorry,” he says, pressing a kiss to George’s neck.

“You guys are gross,” Sapnap says. He hasn’t moved at all, he’s just shifting awkwardly, hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, the door still open behind him.

“So gross you don’t want to have sex with us?” George questions.

“Yes,” Sapnap says sarcastically. George quirks an eyebrow. “Okay fine, obviously not. I’m very eager to fuck you, George.”

Dream chuckles softly and George grins, pleased, petting at Dream’s thigh in approval.

“Shut the door and come sit down,” George says, gesturing towards the bed. Sapnap settles himself crosslegged towards the foot of it. Like a dog. Judging by Sapnap’s nervous smile he detects the sinister nature of George’s smirk, so he eases it into a nicer grin. He doesn’t want to freak him out too much just yet.

“So… we’re going to have sex. Have you ever done a scene before?” George asks. “Do you know about safewords and that kind of stuff?”

“Only what I’ve seen in porn, I guess,” Sapnap says. There’s a slight timidness as he adds, “I haven’t done a lot of stuff. I’m not a virgin, but I’m not super experienced, I guess. I’ve never done any BDSM stuff or like… scenes or whatever.”

“Okay,” George says, trying to be reassuring without seeming patronising. “That’s fine, Dream hadn’t done a lot before we got together, either. I’ll be right here if you need anything. You’re going to brat a lot, right? Like fight back and be annoying, typical Sapnap shenanigans?”

“I’m going to Dom,” Sapnap says, half-serious. A little too serious, in George’s opinion.

“No, you’re not,” George says dismissively. “You can talkback and brat all you want but you’re not going to initiate anything without asking for permission first. For safety reasons. Okay?”

“Fine,” Sapnap says, seeming to catch onto the fact that George is, for once, being serious.

“We use colours for our safeword system. It works like a traffic light — green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. If you want to stop the scene completely you say red, if you need to pause for whatever reason you say yellow. We’re going to keep it all verbal. That includes you, Dream, I need you to stay verbal for this scene. Sap, if I ask you for your colour you answer me honestly, but if you need to call one yourself don’t wait for me to ask. Make sense?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap says. “So I say yellow if I want a break and red if I want to stop.”

“Exactly, good boy.” George laughs at Sapnap’s annoyed huff. “Just so you don’t freak out about it, Dream always gets pretty out of it in scenes. He’s definitely going to cry and he’s probably going to be really loud and moany for a while and then he’ll go really quiet. What else… In scenes Dream is puppy and I’m sir. Anything you wanna be called?”

“I dunno,” Sapnap says, cheeks darkening to the point that George can finally see his blush. “Do I have to call you sir?”

“If you wanna be on my good side you will.”

“No, then.” A bright flashing grin. George wonders with an idle curiosity how many slaps across the face it would take to knock the smirk off him.

“You’re going to be nice to Dream; no degradation or anything like that. Only praise.”

“Easy,” Sapnap says, smiling sweetly at Dream, who beams back. “What about you?”

“If you piss me off enough you’ll get punished,” George says.

“Like, you’ll spank me?” There’s definitely way too much eagerness in the question for it to be a joke.

“Maybe. Maybe something worse. You can find out if you really want to. It could be good to break you in today, maybe then you’ll be better behaved in the future.”

Sapnap seems to be mulling it over, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stares George down. He looks away first, though.

“You said you’ve never done any BDSM stuff, have you ever been in subspace?”

“I don’t think so,” Sapnap says, nervousness creeping back into, softening his voice and posture.

“Well, you might start feeling kind of out of it, fuzzy or floaty, just know that it’s normal and I’m here to take care of you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” George says, smiling with one final dose of kindness. “Ready to start?”

“Yes,” Sapnap says.

“Strip,” he instructs.

“I — really? Already?” Sapnap says, nervous.

“Not you, stupid. Puppy, up,” George says, slipping off Dream’s lap so he can clamber out of bed. He pulls his crewneck off, then wriggles out of his jeans. George watches Sapnap as he takes it in, eyes wide, hands fisted in his lap. He bites harshly on his lip when Dream slips his boxers down, his dick clearly big despite being mostly soft still.

Sapnap smiles suddenly, shy, and George glances back up at Dream's face to catch the sunshine smile that Sapnap is returning.

“Okay, Dreamie, lay down now,” George says. Dream wriggles about to get comfortable on his back, head against the pillows, George and Sapnap sitting by his hips.

George strokes a single finger along Dream’s length, laughing when Dream whimpers at the sensation.

“You’re gonna open him up,” George says to Sapnap, raising his eyebrows pointedly at Dream before leaning over to grab the bottle of lube out from the bedside table.

“I’ve never done that before,” Sapnap says, though he takes the bottle when George hands it to him.

“You’ve never fingered Dream before?”

“I’ve never fingered anyone. Idiot.” He squeezes some lube onto his fingers, looking to George for guidance as Dream arranges himself to display his hole.

“Just tease over his hole a bit,” George says. “Yeah, like that, good. And then push in. He’s probably pretty loose so it should be easy enough.”

Dream is all whines and whimpers as Sapnap fingers him open, far slower and gentler than George would be. Sapnap finds his prostate with his first finger and spends a while just stroking it slowly, seemingly admiring the way it makes Dream shudder and moan, cock twitching and leaking against his stomach.

“Add another finger,” George says, once he’s gotten his own fill of the sight. Dream is probably the only person who could get so fucked out from just a single finger. George takes his hand, rubs his thumb over the knuckles.

Sapnap obediently adds a second finger. He’s staring entranced at the sight of his fingers slipping in and out of Dream’s tight hole and George gets the appeal but he also wants Sapnap to pay a bit more attention to him.

“Sapnap,” he says.

Sapnap hums questioningly but doesn’t look at him, not even a glance.

“Sapnap,” George repeats, harsher, leaning closer. “Kiss me.”

That does catch Sapnap’s attention. He perks up, nearly slips his fingers out of Dream’s hole before remembering that he has a job to do. Still, he turns towards George, tilts his chin up eagerly.

George reaches up to twist his hat around so the brim sits backwards on his head, and when Sapnap opens his mouth to complain, George stifles him with a quick peck. It’s barely anything, chaste and teasing.

Sapnap’s annoyed scowl slips into a pleading pout, and George dodges his first attempt at landing another kiss but leans into the second, settling a hand on Sapnap’s cheek, his other squeezing at Dream’s hand.

George licks across Sapnap’s lips. He tastes of toothpaste, strong and sharp, and George nearly pulls away to laugh. Continuing to kiss Sapnap seems like a far more rewarding option than making fun of him, though, so he presses deeper, slipping his tongue into Sapnap’s mouth and leisurely exploring all the different tones of soft sigh he can coax out of him.

Eventually Dream gets impatient of Sapnap’s fingers settled unmoving inside him, whining out, “Can I get a kiss please?”

George bites at Sapnap’s lip and pulls back, grinning at the sight of glazed green eyes.

“Dream asked you very nicely for something, Sap, you’d better be good and give it to him,” George prompts.

Their kiss starts and stays soft. Dream’s mouth opens to moan as Sapnap starts moving his fingers again, and Sapnap presses a final kiss to the corner of Dream’s mouth before leaning back to focus his attention back on stretching him open.

“I want another finger, please,” Dream says, and Sapnap is happy to provide.

He’s is a little more focused and fast as he adds a third finger, and then at George’s bidding a fourth.

“Okay, now lie down,” George says, eagerness winning out.

“What?”

“Lie down. He’ll ride you, and I’ll finger him open a bit more —”

“No, I’m fucking him. And then I’m fucking you.”

“Sapnap,” George begins, and then stops to think. It’s a competition, after all, and he has his tactics and he’s not afraid to play a little dirty. “Fine.”

Sapnap grins like he’s won. George wonders what it’ll take to break him down into something Good. Speaking of.

“Dream, honey,” George says, hopping off the bed to pull off his sweatpants and shirt. He can feel Sapnap’s eyes on him, heavy with wanting, the heat of his stare sending pleasant flames flickering across George’s skin. “Can you sit up for me?”

“Yeah,” Dream says, voice tiny and adorable as he shuffles into a slumped sitting position. George takes his place sitting towards the head of the bed, and pats his lap until Dream gets the cue and shifts to straddle his waist. He sinks down slowly, loudly, mumbling and moaning till he’s bottomed out, pressed flush to George, aching cock trapped between their stomachs.

“Good boy,” George murmurs, pressing kisses to the corner of Dream’s jaw. He settles his chin on Dream’s shoulder to examine Sapnap, who shifts uncomfortably under the gaze. “Take off your cap.”

Sapnap pulls a face but takes it off, chucking it to the side.

“You’re gonna add another finger, okay, but you’re gonna go slow, lots of lube,” George instructs.

Sapnap nods, squeezing more lube onto his fingers as he shifts closer, his left hand settling on Dream’s hip while he rubs a finger over his rim.

Dream keens as Sapnap presses his finger in alongside George’s dick, slow and steady. George knows Dream can take it, he’s kind of a size queen and they’ve got a collection of toys to satiate him, so he takes the first one pretty easy despite the shimmer of tears in his eyes, and soon enough Sapnap is adding another finger.

Sapnap’s fingers are thick, strong (better than yours, he recalls Dream saying, and bites at his shoulder in punishment), persistent as they move in and out, the stimulation against his dick shuddering through George’s spine, though he’s careful to not let it outwardly show.

“Gotta relax, baby,” George murmurs, rubbing a hand over the small of Dream’s back, tracing a finger up his spine. “Deep breath, puppy dog, I know you’re excited but you have to relax.”

Dream tangibly untenses, slumping heavier against George, Sapnap’s finger slipping in and out with more ease.

“Another,” Dream mumbles. “Please.”

Sapnap looks to George for confirmation, and he nods. The stretch of the third finger makes Dream whimper, a small sob shaking through him, the tears that have been shining in his eyes for a while now finally spilling over to trickle prettily down his flushed cheeks. George mumbles gentle nonsense into his ear and sucks at his pulse point to distract him while Sapnap gently presses deeper and deeper, stretching him open.

Eventually Dream whines out, “It’s enough, please George I need it now sir please.”

“Okay, puppy,” George shushes him as Sapnap slips his fingers out, wiping them clean on the sheets, grinning at George’s grimace.

Sapnap strips out of his shorts, tossing them to the side, and shifts closer before George can properly take him in.

“So I just… push in?” Sapnap asks.

“Yup,” George says, laying properly back onto the pillows, Sapnap’s hand on Dream’s waist preventing him from slumping down as well.

Dream whines as Sapnap presses into him, his dick throbbing heavy against George’s.

“Slower,” George instructs, taking Dream’s hand in his and stroking over the back of it with his thumb, tracing the veins and bones, his other hand rubbing over Dream’s tensed thigh.

“Sorry,” Sapnap grits out, strained, but he slows. His hips stutter forwards a couple of times as he gradually enters Dream’s tight hole, making Dream whimper, hand clenching around George’s. Eventually he’s bottomed out, Dream and Sapnap panting desperately, soft noises spilling from them both.

Any lingering worries about losing leave George’s mind. It feels good, so fucking good, Dream’s hole tight and clenching, Sapnap’s dick rubbing against him with every tiny involuntary shift of Sapnap’s hips, but he’s confident that he’ll be able to stave off his orgasm for a while yet. Ideally he’ll jack Dream off as Sapnap gets close so they both cum, and then George will finger Sapnap open slowly enough for him to recover, and it’ll all work out perfectly.

“You can move,” Dream mumbles, rocking up and down himself, stilling when Sapnap starts to slowly thrust into him. The friction of his cock rubbing against George’s adds to the pressure of the tight heat of Dream’s hole, melting into a pleasure that borders on overwhelming. George trails his hand up Dream’s body to ground himself, savouring the supple give of his tummy, the softness of his light hairs, the soft whimper he gives as George’s thumb grazes over his nipple.

George flicks over it gently, watches it perk up in interest, twists it between his forefinger and thumb. Dream moans, walls clenching as George tightens his pinch.

Sapnap suddenly moans, high and sharp, and George feels wet warmth spill into Dream’s hole, Sapnap’s stuttering thrusts stopping.

George can see his own surprise mirrored on Dream’s face, but while his twists up into a grin, Dream’s melts down into a pout.

“Sapnap,” he whines.

“Shh,” George soothes, pressing his thumb over Dream’s downturned lips.

“But I —”

“I know, puppy,” George murmurs. His soft tone harshens into unfiltered amusement. “Sapnap —”

“Shut up, shut up, literally shut up,” Sapnap mutters, words melting into each other. “It’s not fair — I wasn’t —”

“Don’t interrupt me,” George interrupts. “You lost, you know what that means. Pull out.”

Dream whines as Sapnap’s dick slips out of his stretched hole, settling heavy onto George and grinding down, trying to feel full again.

“Puppy,” George chides. “I was going to give you a nice reward.”

“No, I’m good, I’m sorry,” Dream says, stilling immediately, hands smoothing over George’s stomach.

“Hop off me,” George instructs. Dream gives him a distraught look but does as he says, giving George space to roll over and reach under the bed for the box kept there, tugging it out and flipping it open, grabbing the plug with a decorative green heart, the biggest one they have and therefore Dream’s favourite.

He sits back up to find Sapnap sitting sullen and scowling, face flushed. George wonders if the pink spreads down beneath his hoodie as well, spilling over his chest.

Dream perks up when George holds up the plug, scrambling around to display his hole.

“Sapnap, come look,” George says. Sapnap just glares at him, so he lightly slaps Dream’s hip to nudge him into moving so Sapnap can see the cum dribbling from his gaping hole. “How’s it feel to be a loser? I guess you’re pretty familiar with the feeling.”

“It wasn’t fair,” Sapnap mutters, though his sulkiness perks up with intrigue as George swipes his thumb up Dream’s taint to gather up the leaking mess, pushing it back into his hole and slipping the plug inside.

“If it wasn’t fair why did you agree to it?” George asks, gently fucking the plug in and out, in and out, Dream’s whining muffled by the pillow he’s buried his face into.

“Because…” Sapnap flounders.

“Because you thought you were all big and tough, all in control, even though you practically creamed your pants like some drunk teenager. You lasted, what, two minutes? That’s kind of impressively bad, honestly, and my expectations were extremely low. You’re such a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Sapnap says, trying to bite it out meanly, the effect ruined by the high pitch of his voice. “Shut up.”

“You are a loser, though, and you know what that means,” George grins, settling the plug in place, gripping a handful of Dream’s ass and squeezing it before releasing to lightly smack it.

Sapnap stays silent, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Dream, be a good boy and sit up against the headboard for me, okay?” George says, turning fully towards Sapnap as Dream scrambles to obey. “Sapnap, look at me.”

“No,” Sapnap mutters.

“Why not?” George asks.

“Because — you’re stupid.”

“Is the lickle baby embarrassed because he quickshot?”

“No,” Sapnap snaps, in a way that means yes.

“Are you nervous about getting fucked?” George asks, a little softer. Sapnap doesn’t answer, just keeps his head ducked down so it’s impossible to read his tight expression. George raises an eyebrow, throws the bait. “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I can just fuck Dream and you can watch from the corner, you were keen on that, right? And you can learn how to actually fuck someone, rather than just rutting into their ass a couple times and cumming in five seconds flat like a mindless virgin. Obviously I’m not going to let you practice what you’ve learnt on my puppy, he deserves better than that, but it might help you do a little bit better the next time you go home with someone. Does that sound good?”

“No,” Sapnap whispers.

“No?” George questions.

“No sir.” It’s a resentful mutter, and not what George was asking for or expecting, but it sends a delighted rush through him.

“No to what? You don’t want to watch? You’re all done and you want to go back to your room while I take care of my puppy like he deserves?”

“No! No, I want —” Sapnap says, faintly panicked. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and continues, calmer, “You won. So it’s only fair that you — that you get the prize.”

“I see. So it’s all for me, is it? I get you as my prize, a pretty little slut to do whatever I want to?”

“Yes,” Sapnap breathes out, awed and eager, before catching himself and adding, strained, “Yeah, that was the deal. Idiot.”

“Don’t call me an idiot,” George snaps.

“Don’t be an idiot, then.”

“Lay down,” George bites out, short and sharp. “On your back, hurry up.”

Sapnap does as he says, settling back at Dream’s gesture to rest his head against his crossed legs, bending his legs up and splaying them out to display his flushed cock, his tight hole.

“Spreading your legs without even being told to,” George murmurs, running a finger down the inside of Sapnap’s thigh. “Such a whore.”

Sapnap doesn’t fight back, just breathes in shakily. His eyes are shut tightly, fingers fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. Dream strokes a hand through his hair, his other rubbing gently over his shoulder.

George squeezes lube onto his fingers, sets down the bottle to stroke his spare hand along Sapnap’s thigh, squeezing and pinching and scratching at it while he warms up the lube.

Sapnap’s rim flutters as George’s fingers brush over it, his cock twitching as George dips his first finger just past the tight muscles, coupling it with a rough squeeze of Sapnap’s hip. A moan slips from Sapnap’s mouth, muffled as his teeth clamp down on his lip, his tensed body relaxing as his whine quietens into a sigh.

George laughs, bright and cruel, slowly slides a single finger in and out as he speaks. “I’m barely touching you and you’re whimpering like a bitch in heat. You’re such a desperate little thing, aren’t you, Sapnap, wanting more and more even though you don’t deserve any of it after how you treated my poor puppy. I should do the same to you. Use you like the slut you are, fill you up with my cum, leave you all aching and desperate and wanting. You've already cum, after all, it would hardly be fair to let you cum again.”

Sapnap’s hole is tight, warm, practically sucking him in. George gradually presses two fingers in, strokes them along Sapnap’s walls until he cries out.

“There you go,” George says, petting over the spot, resting his hand lightly on Sapnap’s thigh to feel how it shakes with the consistent pleasure. “You should thank me, you know, for making you feel good. I’m being generous. You hardly made Dream feel good at all, you —”

“Thank you thank you thank you please more, George, please,” Sapnap slurs out. At some point one of his hands has moved up to take hold of Dream’s, or maybe Dream reached down, their clasped hands laying by Sapnap’s shoulder. It’s sweet, nearly cute enough to distract George from the interruption.

“Don’t talk over me,” George snaps. He softens the persistent pinch of his fingers on Sapnap’s thigh to a soft stroking to soothe the harshness of the words. “You’re so greedy, your tight little hole is so desperate for me. Don’t ask for more. I’m being good to you, I’m making sure it won’t hurt, and after all my generosity you’re whining and whimpering for more. You don’t deserve more, Sapnap, you deserve whatever I see fit to give you. So just stay quiet and make your pretty little noises and lay back and let me fuck you, because that’s all you’re good for, you selfish slut.”

Tears bloom crystalline in Sapnap’s eyes, spilling over immediately to drip down his temples as his chest heaves out a soft sob. George pauses, brings his clean hand up to brush away the tears, petting at Sapnap’s cheek.

“Hey, hey, what’s up? Can I get a colour, Sap?”

“I’m fine,” Sapnap says, voice small. He smiles, though, tilts his face into George’s hand. “Green. It’s just a lot. I wanna keep going though, please.”

“Okay,” George says, resuming the movements of his fingers but avoiding Sapnap’s sweet spot so he can keep hold of the conversation. “You’re doing very well, you know. Taking me so well. You sound so pretty and you look so pretty and I care about you a lot and I want to make sure you’re doing okay, yeah? And you know it’s all just dirty talk when I say you don’t deserve it and all that?”

“I know,” Sapnap says, with another smile. “I know really you think I’m the best and you wanna kiss me sooo bad.”

“Second best, maybe,” George grins back, leaning over to give Sapnap a soft kiss, deepening it into something messier, tongue licking over Sapnap’s teeth before pulling back to whisper against his lips, “I dunno that you could take both me and Dream yet, which puts him in the lead.”

“You’re just an idiot,” Sapnap murmurs, and then George returns to thrusting his fingers aggressively into his prostate and he shuts right up. Talking-wise, at least. He’s still noisy, moaning and whimpering, fingers twisting the fabric of his hoodie, clenching at Dream’s hand.

“Sap, can you take your hoodie off? I want to see your pretty little tits,” George says, shoving up the hem to scratch his fingers lightly against Sapnap’s tummy.

Dream helps Sapnap tug the hoodie off, dropping it to the side, big hands trailing over Sapnap’s stomach to cup his chest, petting over the hairy skin and playing with his sensitive pink nipples.

“Good puppy, you make him feel good while I finish opening him up,” George says, returning Dream’s proud grin. “Do you like that, Sap? Do you like him feeling up your pretty tits?”

Sapnap mumbles a vague affirmative, trying to simultaneously press his chest up into Dream’s touches and grind himself back against George’s fingers. He’s a mess, wet all over, drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth, more tears trickling down his temples, precum glistening in a pool on his stomach, skin gleaming with sweat.

George presses harshly against Sapnap’s prostate, pinches his hip as he squirms. “Stop moving, slut, you take what I give you.”

“Sorry,” Sapnap slurs out. “I’m sorry, just feels — it’s so good, it’s so good.”

“Shh, I know. I’m gonna make you feel even better if you just quiet down and let me stretch you out so I can fuck you. Gonna make you feel it for days, every time you sit down you’ll be thinking about it, me fucking your tight little virgin hole, how good it felt, how badly you want it again and again and again. I’m gonna add another finger.”

He slides three fingers straight in this time, smooths a hand over Sapnap’s hip as he keens at the stretch. He thrusts his fingers slowly in and out, scissoring them methodically apart. He’s being a bit impatient, perhaps, but Sapnap isn’t complaining and his cock twitches every time George pinches at his hip, so he figures it’s fine.

Deeming him finally ready, George pulls his fingers out, rubbing over Sapnap’s rim and shushing him when he whines.

“Turn over,” he instructs, tapping at Sapnap’s thigh and leaning back to give him room to move. “I’m gonna use your hole and Dream’s gonna use your whore mouth, okay? You’d better make him feel good after the stunt you pulled earlier.”

Sapnap nods, meek and eager in equal increments, scrambling to turn onto his hands and knees.

“Dream, do you wanna stay like that or do you wanna kneel up so you can fuck his throat?”

“Fuck my throat, please, wanna make you feel good,” Sapnap says, voice teetering between desperate and demanding.

“Okay,” Dream says, petting a hand through Sapnap’s hair. “Can I start now sir?”

“Yeah, puppy, go ahead. Sap, if you want him to pull off you’re gonna tap his leg twice, okay?” George demonstrates on Sapnap’s hip, and Sapnap copies the movement on Dream’s leg. “Just like that, good job. Actually wait first, Sapnap, you have to beg for my dick.”

“Beg? I’m not gonna beg, that’s stupid,” Sapnap mutters.

“You just begged for Dream to fuck your throat, darling. I’m happy to let him use you as much as he wants and then I can fuck him once he’s finished, he gets all tight when he’s overstimulated, makes these lovely little noises. Tighter than your slutty hole and certainly prettier than your pathetic whimpers. I don’t need you. If you want it you have to beg.”

There’s a silence. George scratches his fingers absently down Sapnap’s back, pink lines marking his tracks, Sapnap’s ass arching up at the sensation.

“Please,” he whispers. George rubs the tip of his dick over Sapnap’s rim in encouragement. “Please, George, fuck me I need it, I need you in me, I’m just a slut I’m just your slut and I need it, please.”

“Good slut,” George says, and pushes in. Slowly but all at once, Sapnap collapsing forward at the feeling, his high whine cracking as George bottoms out, hand soothing over Sapnap’s hip. “Up, Sap, c’mon. You don’t wanna let Dream down again, do you?”

Sapnap shakes his head frantically, fumbles back up onto his hands and knees. George can’t see from this angle but he imagines Sapnap’s mouth lolling open, pink lips bitten raw, shiny with spit, eyes wide and pleading.

Dream slips just the tip in at first, ever cautious and courteous, so George pulls halfway out to slam back in, harsh and fast, the momentum sending Sapnap forward so Dream’s dick hits the back of his throat, making him gag. George waits for a sign to stop, but none comes, so he repeats the motion, slower this time for a few thrusts before picking back up at the sound of Sapnap moaning around Dream’s cock.

“Slut,” George murmurs, fingernails wrenching bright red crescents into Sapnap’s hips.

He can hear Sapnap moan around Dream’s cock, the sound morphing into a gag as George slams into him. George squeezes the softness of Sapnap’s ass, feels the hard muscles underneath, strength and power and yet George is the one pounding into him, pinching bruises and raking scratches into his pale skin.

“I’m close,” Dream mumbles, big fingers twisting tightly through Sapnap’s hair, a vast difference to his soft petting from earlier, desperation making him harsh. “Sir, I’m close, can I please — can I please cum, sir, feels so good, wanna see him swallow it all, please?”

“Fuck, baby, yeah you can cum,” George grits out, slowing his own pace so Dream can figure out a rhythm of his own, dragging Sapnap forward to meet the erratic thrusts of his hips. “Get some on his face for me, yeah? Wanna see him dripping with it, fucking ruined with it. Cum for me, puppy, you’ve been so good, so patient and so good for me, all for me.”

Dream shoves Sapnap down on his cock as far as he can take it, George slowing almost to a stop, hand soothing over the small of Sapnap’s back, running gently over the raised red marks left by his fingernails.

A high moan spills from Dream as he cums, hips stuttering forward before pulling out so the last few dribbles of cum end up on Sapnap’s face, dripping dirtily down his cheeks and chin.

Dream’s hand becomes tender again, petting through Sapnap’s hair, over his face, smearing over the splatters to drag some to his lips, Dream’s fingers taken gladly into Sapnap’s mouth.

“Good boy,” George says, in general to both of them. “So good for me.”

He speds up his thrusts, slams in deep and hard, fingers digging into Sapnap’s hips to drag him back onto his cock, hammering his prostate each time. Sapnap’s mouth is lolled open in a continual moan, a pretty noise that jars into a whine with every squeeze tighter, with every harsh thrust.

Pleasure builds hot in George’s stomach, the warmth that has been bubbling since the beginning of the night finally roaring up.

With a hand on his waist and another cupping his chest, George tugs Sapnap up, pressed chest to back, squeezing the softness of his pec. He nips at the meat and muscle of Sapnap’s shoulder, sucks and licks at the sweaty skin, salty and bitter and delicious.

Dream shifts up to take Sapnap’s dick in his hand, stroking him in time with George’s thrusts, rough and deep.

The tension builds and builds and builds and snaps, George jackrabbiting into Sapnap’s tight hole, filling him up and fucking it right into him, buries himself as deep as he can while Dream’s hand speeds up, George licking up the crook of Sapnap’s neck and sinking his teeth in, Sapnap clenching painfully around him as he cums with a loud, mindless moan.

George turns his bite into kisses, his harsh grips to gentle strokes, pulls out with an apologetic squeeze around Sapnap’s waist as he gently lays them down, leaving Sapnap collapsed onto the pillows while he sits back up.

“Well done, puppy, you did so well, feel good?” George says, reaching out to pet over Dream’s mussed hair, his flushed cheeks.

“Mhm,” Dream says, nuzzling his face into George’s hand.

“You lay down as well, baby, I’ll be back in just a second.”

Once Dream nods, moving to settle next to Sapnap, slipping an arm over his waist, George hops off the bed and heads to the ensuite. They didn’t set up at all, which is probably George’s fault, but usually when it’s just Dream and him after an intensive scene they run a bath while they rinse off in the shower, but there’s no way the three of them will fit in either, so he’s going to have to resort to warm cloths and lots of cuddles.

He can manage that, though, and they can get pizza and watch a movie together and eat crisps and chocolate and it’ll all be lovely. And he’ll wrangle Sapnap into Dream’s clothes, it’ll all be great and he’ll look all tiny and cute and George can kiss up his neck while Sapnap snuggles into Dream’s side.

Assuming he is allowed to kiss him. George frowns, maybe he won’t be allowed to kiss him if they aren’t actively Having Sex, though that seems kind of dumb to him. He hopes it isn’t the case.

Either way he has several warm wet cloths and a couple of dry ones now, so he heads back to the bedroom.

Where Sapnap is shaking and sobbing in Dream’s arms.

His stomach twists at the sight. He freezes up for a second before rushing over, forcing himself into focussed calm, dumping the cloths on the bed and crawling over to settle on Sapnap’s other side. He’s hesitant to touch, doesn’t know what he did wrong.

“Sapnap?” he whispers. “What’s wrong, darling?”

He was asking Sapnap but Dream answers in a worried whisper, “He won’t talk to me.”

He sounds close to tears as well and George kicks himself for leaving without properly checking in, he’d thought just ducking away for a moment to grab the towels would be fine but obviously not, he’s so fucking stupid —

Not the time.

He tugs the blankets up from where they’re bunched up at the foot of the bed and settles down to lay next to Sapnap, tucking the three of them under the covers and laying his hand carefully on Sapnap’s waist.

Sapnap is turned away from him, face buried in Dream’s chest, Dream’s hand rubbing circles over his back. George keeps his own hand still and steady, tries to do the same with his voice.

“Sapnap, baby, can you tell us what’s wrong so we can help you? Even if it seems silly, I promise we’re here to look after you no matter what, okay?”

There’s no answer but Sapnap’s sobs have shuddered down to sniffles, which is progress. George shifts forwards to press a kiss to the top of Sapnap’s head.

“Coming down after sex, especially if it’s rough like what we just did, can be really overwhelming, scary even. It happens, baby, but I promise it’ll pass. We’re here to help if you’re able to tell us what’s wrong, or we can just lay here and hold you till you feel better. It happens to Dream sometimes,” George continues, gently stroking his thumb across Sapnap’s skin. “I’m right here, I’ve got you, yeah? You’re safe here.”

Sapnap shakes his head. It’s a tiny movement, but clear against his prior stiff stillness.

“You are safe, darling,” George soothes.

Sapnap just shakes his head again, more insistent this time. George is struggling to stifle his own panic.

“What are you saying no to, Sap?” George tries. “I don’t understand.”

Sapnap’s words are muffled but decipherable. “It’s different.”

“What’s different, darling?”

Sapnap makes a strangled scoffing noise. “With Dream. It’s different.”

“I don’t — I don’t understand what’s different.”

“Because — because you love him. And he’s — he’s yours and I’m just me. I’m just a prize and a slut and now I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined everything,” George says. “And you’re not just a prize, stupid. Do you really think I’d have a threesome with any random sweaty man?”

“Yes,” Sapnap mutters, with a sniffly laugh.

“Ok yeah but that’s not the point,” George says, squeezing him tighter. “You’re not random, you’re my best friend and you’re very special to me. I, um, care about you a lot.”

He glances nervously up at Dream who beams and nods encouragingly.

You tell him then George mouths, scowling when Dream shakes his head. He continues, though, saying aloud, “I was just thinking about it actually while I was gone. About how I want to hug you and kiss you and hold you, just like this, whenever I want, except hopefully you won’t always be crying. If you’d like something like that. Like… all three of us together. If you want.”

There’s a silence. George’s fingers tap out a nervous pattern on Sapnap’s hip and he shifts his hand to settle over his stomach instead, scritching his fingers through his happy trail. It’s very calming. George really really hopes Sapnap says yes just so that he take up residence petting at Sapnap’s tummy every day.

“You’re just saying that because I’m upset,” Sapnap says weakly.

“I’m not,” George insists, at the same time as Dream says, “We’re serious, Sapnap, we both love you so much and there isn’t really a version of our future where you’re not also there, you know that, right? I know maybe it seems like a lot but can we at least try it please please please and I can take you out for dinner and rizz you up so you’ll never ever leave.”

“And I’ll be yours?” Sapnap says, tiny and tentative.

“Yes and George’s and we’ll both be yours,” Dream says.

“Okay,” Sapnap says. George’s heart does a stupid little dance inside his chest. “I’d like that.”

“You’d like to be mine?” George whispers, close to his ear.

“Yeah,” Sapnap murmurs. His sobbing has soothed down completely, which makes the tight tangle in George’s chest unravel into happiness.

“Good, because you’re already mine,” George says, licking over the bruising bite mark he left on Sapnap’s neck. “I’ve got you now, I’m not letting you go. I’ve ensnared you in my trap.”

“Our trap,” Dream corrects. “Are you gonna clean us up now?”

“I think maybe I should run a bath, you two can get in and I’ll sit on the side like a lifeguard making sure you don’t drown. Watching out for tomfoolery and horseplay and making sure there’s no indecent behaviour going on.”

“No indecent behaviour?” Dream pouts.

“Surely we can have a little indecent behaviour,” Sapnap says, twisting around to pout at George. His face is all red and raw from crying, it makes George’s heart hurt, but he leans eagerly into George’s kiss which soothes the ache.

“I guess you can have a bit of indecent behaviour,” George says, rolling his eyes when the other two quietly cheer. Sapnap tries to snuggle into him as he pulls away and is only convinced to let go when Dream promises to carry him through to the bathroom.

He leans forward to steal another kiss, though, snatches away George’s breath along with it, his lips rough from being bitten but soft in their tenderness. George does his best to hold the same gentleness, hopes that Sapnap can feel all the emotion and unspoken promises he’s trying to convey. Judging by his smile when he finally pulls back, he can.