Day 4 - Photographer [Human AU]
[AO3]
It’s quiet as Hob opens the door, thinking of Dream at his work today, seared in his mind ― a stark difference from the Dream right now, in a big black hoodie and pants, only the winged eyeliner from throughout the day still there.
There’s the sounds of a camera clicking away, the photographer saying things and Hob looks up from his phone ― and freezes, almost dropping it as he sees Dream, draped over a deep red single sofa, head resting on his arms as he stares at the photographer.
Hob’s mouth dries as he stares at the ear cuff, stark white and sparkling, a waterfall going down to Dream’s collarbone, stopping there, and Hob can almost hear the tinkling of it as Dream moves into other positions, lined eyes on the photographer. Dream sits up in a fluid motion, a simple black suit jacket on him, showing Dream’s pale chest, the peek of nipples and Dream has ― rings, silver, on his hands as he puts them on his pants.
“What did you think?” Dream asks, blinking slowly at him and Hob makes a sound, leaning in to kiss Dream desperately.
“So beautiful,” he breathes, pulling off Dream’s hoodie, then the black band shirt underneath, and Dream gasps as his back hits the door, and Hob bites down Dream’s chest, pale and―”Want to worship you,” he growls, Dream’s hands tangling in his hair as bites the top of black pants, sucking Dream’s cock through the fabric and Dream whines.
“Surprised you lasted this long,” Dream husks, whining as Hob continues to suck throughout the fabric, dick hot and leaking, “we could have done this in the―“ Dream’s cuts himself off with a shiver, curling around him. “Hob,” Dream pleads.
There’s a whimper as he lets up, licking his lips as he pulls the pants off, hands on Dream’s hips as he sucks Dream down to the root, moaning at the feeling, and Dream cries out. Hands scratching his shoulders as he sucks Dream off to a quick orgasm, and he swallows most of it, the end of it ending up on his mouth as he lets go, looking up to see Dream heaving, eventually uncurling from him, head thunking against the door. “They may end up being my favourite photos of you,” he says with a grin, licking the come off his face, “until next time, anyway.”
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