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#smth sweet for today gfhfh
lenreli · 8 months
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Day 15 - "And why should I care?"
[AO3]
Hob squirms on his bed, unable to move away from Dream’s thighs around his hips. “That jacket was a favourite,” he breathes, glancing at the torn remains of his brown leather jacket sadly. 
Dream hmphs and grabs onto his jaw, black nails digging into his skin as he watches Dream’s other hand stroke a pale cock, “and why should I care?” Dream growls, body a vice as Hob can feel ― Dream’s entrance, right near his dick, and he pants, shivering as the hand on his jaw strokes down his throat, and Hob realises his hands are tight on Dream’s upper thighs as he squeezes them. 
“Because it’s my favourite, and it’s vintage nowadays,” he points out, and Dream frowns, hand on his throat going down to play with Hob’s nipples, and of course, his chest hair, which Dream has a particular affinity for. 
“I will fix it. Now, relax, my love,” Dream promises ― and Hob wheezes, feeling his cock enter Dream, who moans at the intrusion, quickly taking him to the hilt. 
“Dream,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut, the sound of Dream’s languorous moans and sounds, the hand on Dream’s cock  as he rocks up into Dream’s body blindly, driven by instinct, to hear Dream get even louder, filling the room with it. 
He’s kept still by Dream’s hand on his chest, his hands going up to Dream’s hips to grab onto, bliss spurred on by the silky smooth of Dream’s insides, of the body holding him down with ease, of Dream’s “yes” and “more” ― and he comes with a cry. 
Hob can feel the come leaking from Dream’s hole as he takes heaving breaths, opening his eyes to watch Dream bitten and puffy red lips scream his name, and Hob shivers as his chest, his throat and the bottom of his jaw is coated with Dream’s come.
“Beautiful,” Dream breathes, leaning down to bite at his jaw, licking up some of the white fluid, Dream’s hands going to his collarbones, stroking through the come gathered with a hum. Hob wriggles, feeling himself still inside Dream ― and that Dream’s cock, resting against his stomach, is still hard and leaking. 
Hob laughs, “if you say so,” he pulls away one of his hands to stroke Dream’s hair, tilting his head as Dream licks away more of the come at his throat.
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