MCYT Oneshots

Living A Dream (Fundy x Quackity)

TW- Thoughts of intimacy; pining;

Requested by Iknowenglish

So sorry this took so long! I had a lot of trial and error, and I'm still not completely happy with the outcome. But I really hope you enjoy, I haven't even written a story with Quackity so I know I made him a bit OOC. I hope you don't mind that :)

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Quackity was stunned. Him being a pretty normal person meant nothing super exciting happened in his life. He went to college, had a part-time job, and was descent in the music industry. But this was crazy. There was no way he was invited to sing with Fundy. This had to be a dream.

Yet, as he sat here, with the man himself across from him, he wasn't waking up by any alarm. And no matter how many times he pinched himself, he was still here. With the famous Fundy in front of him. Quackity couldn't comprehend this. He kept zoning out, thinking over and over again, this wasn't real.

"So, you excited?" The orange haired boy in front of him said, taking a sip of his drink. A mocha macchiato, which was surprising since he didn't seem the type of person to like them.

Quackity gave a small nod and hummed, staring into his quarter-empty hot chocolate cup as he swished it around. Watching as the cold whipped cream melted into it. He was quite nervous, being in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of people while singing with a world known star. Heck--the guy even had to wear a hat, sunglasses and a mask to not get recognized.

Beyond his vision, Fundy frowned, "Are you sure? You seem distracted." He gave a meaningless small, breathless laugh, and that made Quackity's brain practically restart, he shot up, quick to speak. "No, no, I am excited, just a bit nervous." God, he was stumbling, and embarrassing himself in front of a star. He saw Fundys face brighten, and watched a smile grace his lips. Why was he so happy? "You'll be fine, try not to think about it."

The younger laughed and adjusted the beanie on his head, pushing back any thoughts. Trying to focus on the person he was speaking with. "I'll try,"

Fundy shifted in his seat, "Alright, I think we should--" Fundy went on to explain his ideas and plans, getting the others thoughts. Honestly, Quackity was somewhat confused--although happy--on how easy it was to talk to Fundy. He felt he could express himself and joke around with Fundy equally having fun. It felt like they were old friends catching up, comfortable with one another but the tension still being high and awkward.

"Alrighty, it's getting late so I'll call my manager to tell them everything we've agreed on." Said Fundy, tiding up the table. Quackity glanced at his phone, checking the time. Fundy was right, it was getting late. But that wasn't what surprised him. They had been chatting for almost four hours. He had expected to be here for at least thirty minutes before leaving, but apparently, Fundy was super easy to get along with.

Quackity had to suppress a grin. He felt so amazing with Fundy; comfortable and safe--he almost didn't want to leave. Yet, he had too.

The next day, Quackity stood in Fundy's studio. It wasn't impressive but still amazing to see. Behind the glass he could see workers--who he learned were Josh and Ian--they were adjusting the audio. He fiddled with the headset that laid around his neck.

Fundy waved from the other side of the glass. His turn was next. After some trial and error, Quackity started rehearsing his lines. Gosh, was it stressful. Having eyes watching his every move. But their words were only good things, small adjustments, and to be honest, it made Quackity feel great. Being praised on his singing, not by comment was different, but it was nice.