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“Dream needs me sometimes,” George said instead of giving him an explanation, as if it was good enough on its own, but Quackity wasn't having it.
“He needs you?” he asked, coming closer, “he needs what? To see your face? To say how much he looooooooves you?”
George ignored him, taking his time to assess the map of the area and find the best way across to the nether portal. It was fairly easy, most of the time, but with the mess he’d woken up to in L’Manburg it wouldn't hurt to update his map. Before Quackity said anything further, George rolled up the map and made his way down the hill.
Quackity hurried to follow him, a grin still on his face.
“You didn't say he didn't,” Quackity grinned, and George had to smooth out his features to stop the smile going across his face.
“He’s not in love with me,” George said, “just sometimes he needs someone to talk to.”
“About love, and roses, and chocolates, and braiding his hair and…” Quackity trailed off, but George was still walking away.
“Hey!” Quackity yelled as he fluttered to catch up, “Don't walk away from me. What could Dream possibly need you for that I also don't need you for?”
“He just sometimes needs me.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“But why does that mean I can't have your number too?”
“You’d abuse it,” George said, and he reached the hill with the walkway going through it.
If he kept going he’d get to Tommy’s old house, or Connor’s house if you looked at it that way, and if he turned left and jumped off he’d get to the bit of river with the really thick mud. He continued, Quackity’s feet slapping on the wood as he moved with him, and George’s boots clanked down the stairs with an unknown but recognisable rhythm. It could have just been regular, a march or something, but he didn't really care enough to think about it.
“You can't say I’d abuse it without letting me have a chance to abuse it!” Quackity yelled at him as they made their way over to the community hub, “Let me have your number. I’ll prove I’m trustworthy.”
“I wouldn't trust you with a plastic houseplant,” George told him and took the corner near Tommy’s, Connor’s, house, “And I'm not giving you my number.”
Quackity stopped as they reached the community house, lingering in the doorway and watching George go over to one of the many chests lining the far wall. He didn't go into them, however, and continued straight through, so Quackity hurried to follow.
“I don't get it, man,” he said, with George still buried in his map, “What’s the deal? Dream isn't that great, he’s talked down to you more times than I can count, and now you’re over here saying he needs you? What gives?”
George actually looked at him now, standing on the wooden bridge that led up towards the nether portal, and he Quackity crossed his arms as he waited for an explanation. The breeze was cool, the sun warm, and he couldn't see George’s eyes behind his glasses.
“He just does, and besides, you have Karl.”
“Yeah but I could have you.”
“And you have Tubbo.”
“But not you.”
“And Fundy, Ranboo- do you have Ranboo?”
“But I don't have you, George!” Quackity yelled at him, and George drew back, “No, fuck. I didn't mean to scare you. I just want your number, it’s not even that big a deal. Who else has it? Sapnap? Bad? Skeppy, Puffy, Eret?”
George didn't say anything for a moment, looking at Quackity with those unreadable eyes behind unreadable glasses. They were so large that he couldn't even see the other man’s eyebrows behind the frames, and all he had to go on really when it came to telling his emotions was his mouth. Not exactly something he wanted to be caught staring at though, and thankfully George’s invisible, piercing gaze turned away.
“Only Dream,” he said, “has my number.”
“Not even Sapnap?”
“No. Not even Sapnap.”
George turned to walk off again at Quackity’s silence, but the other man jump-started himself and jogged to catch up, his wings beating slightly against his back to move quicker. They reached the nether portal, with George slipping his hand against the frame to go through. Without any armour, Quackity stopped and stared at the portal, but even though George had gone through he could hear the clicking of the other man’s boots on the black stone flooring. He looked around the edge of the portal.
George was walking away.
“Why do you want it anyway?” George asked, “Like I said, you’ve got plenty of people to talk to.”
“I want to be friends with you!”
Quackity closed his mouth and huffed, but George’s eyebrow had risen above his glasses now and there wasn't a way to stop his next question.
“Friends?”
“Just friends,” Quackity said quickly, “Please. I wanna be your friend, properly, not that half-assed shit you have with some people on here.”
“So you don't want to be like me and Dream,” George realised.
“What? I wanna be friends, yeah. What do you mean, ‘not like you and Dream’?”
George huffed, crossing his arms and looking off to the side.
“It doesn't matter,” he hurried to say, “You can be my friend without my number.”
“But it’s a level up!”
“Look,” George snapped, “How about you give me yours? I’ll, like, message you or whatever if you want.”
Quackity lit up, his smile reaching his ears as he pulled a torn-up notebook and a pencil from his pockets and scribbled down a string of numbers, and he quickly tore it free of the rest of the book to hand it over to George. The other man quietly folded the piece of paper and tucked it into his armour, assumedly into his shirt too, and they looked at one another for a minute.
“You're…” Quackity realised.
“Anyway, I really need to go find Dream,” George brushed off, “He needs me sometimes, you know?”
“You didn't even message me!” Quackity stormed after him, “You didn't even look at it!”
“Yeah, but I have it, that’s what you wanted, right? For me to have your number?”
“I wanted you to message me!”
“I will,” George told him, enveloped by the mist of the portal, and he smiled as he finished his sentence. “When I feel like it.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again, then shouted, “You asshole! You’re never going to message me!”
Quackity stomped around the nether portal, his hands in his hair as he realised what George had done. Run and left him in the not-even-friends-zone, and now he was going to go and call Dream his best friend, not even considering Quackity for it. It wasn't even like he could run up to George and catch him, seeing as he was without both his armour and sword, so all he could do was wait around.
He sighed, sitting down in a nearby patch of grass and he let his wings spread out in the sun. At least it was a nice day – the birds were singing, the clouds swimming across the sky like they had nowhere better to be, and his phone had buzzed against his leg. He jumped for it, opening it with no hesitation.
Dream needs me sometimes, but I guess you can talk to me too.
“Yes!” Quackity yelled, jumping up from the floor, “Yes, yes, yes!”
He spun in a circle, holding his phone to his chest and then pulled it away to message George back. His grin was reflected on the screen.
I can't wait to abuse this new power >:)
His phone buzzed immediately.
:(