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Quackity is messing around with George in voice chat when he notices the yellow text on the bottom left of his monitor. He knows exactly where this is going—he knows, yet he doesn’t bother to leave. The unmistakable blip from Discord signals that Dream has joined their call.
“Dream!” He calls first, before George can get a word in. “Buddy, pal, amigo! How’s it, uh, how’s it hanging? How are things? The wife?”
Dream audibly shifts; it was just a joke, but Quackity figures that tensions are still high regarding the whole Fundy thing. “No, uh, yeah,” he starts, “it’s hanging. You guys streaming?”
“Yeah, I am. Me and—me and George are having a lot of fun.”
“We built a shrine,” George pipes up, oblivious to the specific way Dream falls silent between their words. Quackity is pushing buttons he shouldn’t be if he doesn’t want to meet the inevitable end a little too soon, but Dream makes it so easy for him. You could say one thing that’s somehow barely related to George and the blond just fucking melts.
“A shrine?”
Quackity corrects, “A George shrine. Specialized item frames for all your Gogy needs! It’s a big room, Dream, want me to transfer ownership?”
Dream laughs and his character punches the air in Quackity’s direction. “No, no,” he says. “As much as I’d love to have my own personal George shrine,” George laughs as if he’s joking but there’s an undertone that Quackity picks up on and he smirks, “it’s all yours, Quackity.”
“How kind of you.” Quackity chuckles and knocks off a few of the images—a mix of stupid ones and genuine pictures—and throws them to Dream. “A penny for your time,” he says.
The blond laughs again, the kind of breathy laugh that pushes his lips apart in a rumble. “Thanks.”
“Ew, are you both gonna simp for me now?” George says, lightly smacking both of them with an empty hand. Quackity shouts exaggeratingly at how low his health is despite having around six hearts left while Dream only laughs more.
“Maybe.”
“So gross.”
“George, look at me, look here.”
“What? Why?”
Quackity huffs and rolls his eyes. Even with his attempts at shutting them down, they always have to find a way to fall into their own little world.
“Here,” Dream says, tossing a book towards him. The Brit picks it up and hesitates before opening it.
“Oh my god, Dream.”
Dream is laughing more, the small little chuckles not reaching a loud wheeze just yet, but they certainly were getting close. Quackity could hear him lightly smack a hand on his desk.
“What—what is this, am I third wheeling right now?” The youngest jokes, but Dream only laughs harder. He pulls up George’s stream when no response is earned from him and notices how he’s gaping with a large grin on his face. They’re sickeningly oblivious of each other.
When he cools down a bit, the blond urges, “Go—go on, read it.”
“I am not reading that out loud.”
“It’s not even bad!”
“Ooh, Dream, did you hand him your naughty sex book?” Quackity cuts in, punching Dream once. “What the fuck, I thought I told you guys to include me if you were gonna have sex.”
“Quackity!” George shouts, turning an incredible shade of red as he covers half his face with the palm of his hand. “You guys—this is the worst stream I’ve ever had.”
“George, read it!” Dream repeats. “You have to—you have to read it, come on.”
“Fine!” George sighs and shifts back against his chair. “Fine. Ugh, what is this?” He frowns slightly, but his lips are pulled back into a grin again as he begins to read. “Day one of my diary,” he starts, scrunching his nose up, “I lo—oh my god, Dream.”
“Read it!”
George scoffs. “I love George so much,” he says quickly, mockingly, “he’s so cute and se—sexy. Dream, I’m not reading this!”
Dream erupts into laughter, the kind that Quackity feels like he’ll be clutching at his stomach for. He’s wheezing and awfully close to his mic. “Okay, okay! I bet your chat already has it clipped thirty times over by now.”
“At least.”
“So Gogy lingerie is gonna be real?”
“Quackity!”
“Come on, if you guys are going to have phone sex, at least include me! I was in this call before Dream was.” Quackity grins and tabs between the game to switch his character into his naked skin. “Let a wise man give you some advice.”
“I don’t think I want you to,” George says.
“Fine.” Quackity spins around to face Dream’s character. “There are—there’s three sides to society, Dream.”
“And those are?”
“British, Mexican, and gay, obviously.”
The call goes silent. Quackity continues anyway.
“Gogy is British,” he says, “I’m Mexican, and you, my good friend, you are the gay.”
“The gay,” Dream repeats with a tone that visualizes his eye roll better than it should’ve. “How am I the gay? George is right there.”
“Hey! What?”
“George is both,” Quackity supplies, “but since you’re neither, you have to fit somewhere. You fit in the gay category.”
“This is stupid,” Dream says, but he’s laughing at his own expense.
“And you’re not gay?” George asks, smacking Quackity around a few times until he’s screaming and running circles around Dream. His character stops only when George does as well.
“Not as gay as you two.”
“Oh my god,” George mutters for possibly the millionth time that night.
“Yeah, well, maybe I am gay for George.”
“Woah, everyone—everyone clip that! Chat, can we get some W’s? W’s for Dream and George, chat! It’s happening!”
“I hate you,” George says fondly, shoulders shaking from his laughter.
“No, you love me, you just won’t say it.”
“God, I really am third wheeling,” Quackity whispers. They don’t hear it.
“Maybe,” George responds. “You’re the one who’s gay for me, though, isn’t that right?”
Dream laughs, partially sounding nervous. “I said maybe, I said maybe! You can’t use that against me, I’ll never live it down.”
“You’ll never live it down either way, you decided to say it while thousands of people are watching me and Quackity stream.”
Dream pauses and then his character looks between George and Quackity. “You got me there.”
“Rethinking my offer on the George shrine, Dream? I’ll give it to you, but this time I want Netherite armor—simping comes for a price.” Quackity shifts a few times, then stops when his fucking sticky keys turn on again.
“That’s way too expensive,” Dream says.
“So you’re actually considering it now?” George asks, beaming as he laughs.
“I—no, George, you were right, this is the worst stream you’ve ever had.”
Quackity gasps dramatically. “Guys, you hear that? Dream watches all of George’s streams! What a fucking simp!”
George giggles. “Aw, what a simp! You’re simping for me that hard, Dream?”
“That’s it, I—I’m logging off,” Dream says, but he’s still laughing and he knows damn well that they can hear him. “I’m logging off, I’m logging off!”
The chat pops up in yellow again as Dream’s character disappears. George begins to boo at him and they fall into bickering again and Quackity sighs and turns on his autotune voice filter.
At least their idiocy makes amazing content.