dreamnotfound oneshots

eyes on me, pretty boy

// NSFW

George sighed, tapping his fingertips against the cool surface of his desk as he stared blankly at his monitor.

His Discord DM's glared back at him with no unreads and no new messages. He had been sitting there for at least an hour already. Just waiting. Waiting for any one of his friends to hop on and send a quick hey, vc :)? but no, that wasn't how things were working out for George tonight.

Where the fuck was everybody? There was no way they were all asleep, it had to be at least nine pm in the eastern states—so why the fuck wasn't anybody giving him the attention that he so desperately craved?

He was bored. George just wanted to talk and laugh with someone. He just wanted someone's undivided attention, all on him for the next few hours, or even longer. So where did everybody go, and why was nobody talking to him?

Quackity's Discord icon showed he was on DND, same with Sapnap's and Karl's. Bad, Sam, and even Punz were offline. George let out a disgruntled groan, brows furrowing in annoyance. Most of his friends were away, leaving George to an eternal life of boredom and loneliness. How will he cope? Maybe he could make new friends. It's how the saying goes; out with the old, in with the new.

A slight change on George's monitor caught his eye, making him freeze and reevaluate his entire existence. How desperate was he?

George's narrowed eyes landed on Dream's Discord icon—now lit up with the small yellow circle. He immediately perked up, a mischievous smirk playing his lips. If anyone were going to give George attention, it would be Dream.

There's no way he could refuse. Dream was too whipped for the brunet, even a blind rat could see it. Excitedly, George clicked on the video chat symbol on Discord without even sending a warning text or even asking if he wanted to call. Because, like George said, Dream couldn't resist, even if he wanted to.

The call didn't ring for long before George's headphones were met with a groggy hello? and a beautiful dirty blond man stared back at him on the screen. George's heart jumped as he bit back a thrilled squeal—that would have been embarrassing.

"Hey," George grinned, leaning back in his chair because finally—finally—somebody was giving him some fucking attention.

"What's up?" Dream rubbed his hands into his eyes, as if he were trying to rub the sleep away.

"Oh, nothing, I was just bored," George answered as nonchalantly as possible. Dream's shoulders sagged a bit as he sighed.

"George, I have stuff I have to do," the blond explained with a slight frown, making George's face fall.

His brows pinched together, eyes narrowing in disbelief. How dare Dream say he has more important things to be doing? All George wanted to do was talk, maybe have some fun, that was it. And Dream didn't even want to do that.

"George?" Dream asked, eyes too occupied on something else for George's liking.

"Stop," George ordered, voice stern. Dream froze, eyes flicking back up to George's facecam. The brunet didn't look happy in the slightest—and he wasn't.

"What?" Dream let out a breathy laugh, confusion and slight annoyance evidence on his face by the way his brows scrunched and mouth parted slightly.

"Stop what you're doing," George repeated seriously. "I mean it, Dream."

"What—why?" Dream lifted his hands defensively. "I told you I have shit to do, George, I don't have time—"

"—You do have time for me. And you will give me the time," George's lips twitched up into a smirk at Dream's shock. When the younger man didn't respond, George continued, voice lowering as he leaned closer to the mic, "I've been waiting for attention all night, and now that I've got it, I think I'm gonna make the most of it. What about you, Dream?"