Chapter Text
Leather-clad feet tap across a marble floor. The sound of heavy mahogany doors clicking shut echoes throughout the large room. George sighs, sliding further down into a velvet chair, the material uncomfortably rubbing against the back of his suit.
"George, honey, don't slouch." A honey-like voice says from behind him.
George turns his head, smiling lightly at his mother, who gracefully sits in the seat across from him. "How'd the meeting go?" He asks. His mother sighs, exasperated.
"Well, you know how your father is." She states. George doesn't need any other explanation.
His father had been busy for the entire week. He was working on a deal with another family. 'They're weak and would give in to anything.' he had said earlier that week. And while he wasn't wrong, things seemed to be a bit more complicated than usual. If all went well, the Davidsons would walk home with 7.5 million dollars and a lease to a beautiful opera house. See, George's parents had no genuine interest in opera; however, the people in the estates around them did. And that was what mattered.
A door behind George clicked as he turned to see his father smiling while shaking the hand of a stout, greasy-looking man. "Again, we're so excited to be working with you." The man said with a graveled voice. George figured he was a smoker; his judgment proven correct as he saw the pack of Moroccan cigars peak out of the man's pockets. The man patted his head with a light grey handkerchief, an edgy look plastered on his features.
"Of course, a pleasure as always." George's father says with a wide smile. He turned towards his family, grin still on his face, and said, "Ready to go home?" George nodded, standing up and straightening his suit out. The three went down a glass elevator, George gripped the rails tightly feeling off-balance in the glass box. The family walked out of the large building, and over to a sleek black car. George sat himself in the backseat, resting his chin on his palm.
He sighed as he watched all of the glass buildings blur into shades of silver, glistening in the mid-day sun. George had been in almost every building they passed. For parties, meetings, errands, or sightseeing. He used to love them. After living in England for 8 years of his life, he was amazed to see something new. He was always so confused on how locals weren't so infatuated with their city. But then he grew up. And he realized that after a while, even your favorite things get old. The glass and gold chandeliers loose their luster, and rust. All your first friends get tired of you, and you of them. Good relationships come second next to hierarchy and power. George then grew to love hierarchy, and power. Not having power, but being with people in power. He wondered when he would get tired of that as well.
"George, have you decided whether or not you're going to the dinner tonight?" ,his mother spoke kindly. George slumped a bit. He truly didn't want to go. He just wanted to go home and sleep. He opened his mouth slightly to tell his mother he didn't want to go, but she continued, "The WasTaken's are hosting it." Oh. George closed his mouth, sitting up. This changed George's opinion entirely.
The WasTakens' were well known in New York. Mainly, they were known for their unbelievable power over the city. However, George didn't care about the family as a whole. He cared about the head of the family. Dream. He was handsome, charming, and he carried so much power with every single step. He made even the most confident people wither and melt into puddles of crimson. George wanted him. He had heard of the younger mans past lovers, none lasting more than a month, but George didn't mind. He wanted even just a sliver of his attention, even if only for a night. George had a mission now. He was going to sleep with that man before thee end of the night. And nothing would stop him. But this mission needed to stay private with George, and him alone. So he shrugged, saying he'll go. His mother smiled brightly, turning back to face the windshield.
George was fucking excited.
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George sighed happily, warm shower water trickling down his body. He hummed to the music playing in the background as he showered. He shaved, exfoliated, rubbed multiple buttery scrubs on himself; the whole shebang. He wanted to look, feel, and smell his best. George alone was irresistible to people; men and women alike. But he wanted to multiply his desirability for the night. George stood in front of the mirror rubbing lotion onto his body, relaxing into the soft lather. He rubbed a clear, shiny liquid on his face leaving it dewy and soft.
Once satisfied, he wandered back into his room, looking down onto his bed where his clothes for the evening rested. A dark blue suit with a matching tie. The deep color made his alabaster skin show more, which George enjoyed. He slipped the suit on, adjusting his tie until it laid smooth and delicate on his white dress shirt.
He walked towards his floor length mirror, admiring himself in it. He looked damn good. The suit perfectly accentuated his curves and slim legs. His lips contrasted on his pale skin as a natural crimson. He pulled out a small tube of mascara, running the black solution across his eyelashes softly to make them pop just a bit before slipping the tube away once more. He smiled at himself in the mirror, happy with his appearance. He heard the click of his mothers heels step closer to his door, before his mother peaked her head through his door. She smiled at him, a hand slightly covering her mouth.
"Oh George, you look so handsome mon fils." She spoke, walking in to smooth out his suit jacket. George smiled muttering a 'thank you'.
"Are you ready to go dear?" George nodded, following his mother down the grand staircase.
His father was stood by the front door, conversing with their driver before he turned towards the stairs. He grinned widely, arms stretched out as he boomed, "There's my beautiful family.'' George chuckled softly as his mother rolled her eyes fondly towards his father.
They walked outside towards their car where the driver was patiently waiting. George fidgeted in his seat, unable to sit still. His parents continued talking to each other fondly. The drive would be relatively short as they lived in a similar neighborhood to the hosting family. George ran through his plan in his head. He would speak with some of his parents associates before wandering away towards the bar where he would find Dream. He would then begin a conversation, flirting subtly. And by the end of the night he would get his brains fucked out of him. Simple enough. Just as he finished planning, the car stops in front of the WasTaken's house. No, manor. George marveled at the intricacy of the place as he stepped out.
It was tall and large. It seemed to carry Greek architecture along the marble walls. A beautiful fountain of what seemed to be a statue of Poseidon trickled water from a trident into a pool of glimmering water that seemed to glow. Large, well kept hedges framed the house. The house seemed to glow. Perhaps by lights or just by sheer beauty, George wasn't sure. Vines wrapped around like snakes along the columns of the home, climbing all the way to the roof. George slowly walked alongside his parents, slightly distracted by the manor before them. The inside was even more beautiful. Large mahogany doors opened to show a wide foyer lit up with gold chandeliers. The ceilings were adorned in paintings of angels and gods flowing towards each other. Servers weaved around the crowds holding gold trays with bubble-filled flutes. George felt like he stepped back into the 1920s. He was never one for modern architecture, so he felt at home in the estate.
"George," ,his father spoke, catching George's attention, "I would like you to meet Mr. Dimitri." George shook the hand of the man. He was older than George, maybe by a year or two. He was definitely attractive, George was sure of that. His hair was wavy, pushed back out of his face, one raven lock slipping onto his forehead. He features were soft, making him look kind. George smiled, looking the man up and down, "Hello Mr. Dimitri." The man smirked slightly, nodding his head, "You must be George, yes?" His voice was low, almost raspy. George blushed, nodding. "A pleasure.'' Dimitri spoke, turning back to George's father. George continued to stare at the man before lightly shaking himself out of his stare. George had a plan, this is not what it was.
He turned, moving towards a bar counter where groups of older men sat around playing poker. George wasn't surprised, the WasTaken family had close ties with the Nevadas family (who made their livings off of scamming gamblers in shining casinos). A large crowd by the bar quickly caught George's attention. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd which was facing a poker table. George scowled at the people shoving him before he stopped dead in his tracks at who was sitting at the table.
Dream.
His hair shined under the golden lights, which also illuminated his face. Almost as if it was glowing. As if Apollo and Helios preyed down onto him, sinking their wonder into his skin. He himself looked like a god. Sharp features that all complimented each other. Plump lips curved into a smirk, accentuating a small dimple. But what really got George was his eyes. Oh my god, his eyes. They were sharp, pointed, almost like a fox. Emerald and honey swirled together to sparkle in the light. Small oceans planted themselves in between the greens. God, they were beautiful. The beauty of the color could be appreciated from afar, George couldn't even imagine what they'd look like up close. He blushed slightly when the emerald eyes looked towards him, scanning George up and down slowly. The smirk grew more. George was sure his blush was visible.
Dream looked back at his hand, and then back at his opponent. The man across from him was sweating lightly, clearly afraid to lose. And from what George could see, that fate was inevitable. The man held a 2 and a 6. 'Poor thing' George thought. Dream rolled his eyes, "Are you going to do something, or should I accept a win and move on?" A pang of arousal ran down George's spine. Goddamn, his voice was hot. The other man sighed, placing his deck down, sadly. Dream smirked, placing down 2 aces. He extended his hand for the man to shake, "Good game." He said, moving from his seat and over to the bar. George followed, sitting a seat away to attempt to not seem obvious. Dream saw right through it.
Dream shot down a glass of what seemed like Whiskey before turning to face George, "How'd you enjoy the show?" ,he said huskily, chin resting on his palm.
George breathed out a small laugh, "Well, it wasn't fun seeing that guy almost cry at the table, but I did enjoy watching you play."
Dream raised his eyebrows slightly, grinning slightly, "Did you now?" he spoke, "What did you like about it?"
George chuckled, "I liked watching how you looked at your opponent," ,he continued, "almost as if they were prey." George bit his lip, "I liked how you looked once you knew you had won, that look of satisfaction was really hot."
Dream hummed in response before he spoke, "Ya' know," ,he smirked ",if you want me to fuck you just say that." Georges eyes widened. "You've just been tip toeing around it, but it's clear that your desperate for it, it's just unfortunate that I don't want it."
George was bewildered. How did he-. George stammered, eyes wide as Dream watched with amusement.
Dream sat back in his chair, chuckling before he spoke lowly "Don't worry baby, you have all night to convince me." He winked, standing up from the chair and walking away.
George took minute to process what had happened. He absolutely didn't expect this. However, part of him really loved the challenge. The fact that he'd have to work to get Dream. And the fact that Dream wanted him to work for it. It was almost as if Dream was already making the commands.
And goddammit if George wasn't going to work for it.