hopeless purpose (dreamnotfound)

filthy rich

a/n: this one is so fluffy, i like it. its partially for a change in pace, partially for storyline, and also partially to show you how i'll write the more sensual, romance type scenes in the future.

also this entire chapter being full of borderline sexual innuendos is 1000% percent intentional. enjoy u little fuckers.

george, having been the last one to be notified of the meeting place, was the last one to show up to the school. it wasn't an issue though, as the entire plan was completely last minute, and essentially entailed them just throwing literal shit piles at a wall and hoping some of sticks.

the group had been sitting in the bed of a lone black pickup truck left in the parking lot of the buliding when george walked up. quackity was sitting on the metal ledge, higher up than everyone else, thus noticing the new approaching member first.

"george!" quackity shouted, standing up in the bed and splaying his arms out widely to welcome the brit to their make-shift, temporary meeting room.

he smiled in return, walking closer, only now noticing the blue polarized cooler quackity had previously been propping his feet up on. quackity hastily pulled his arms back to his chest and bent down to the cooler, tossing george a cold can of mike's hard lemonade.

george's grin stretched across his face dubiously, tipping his head in a short nod to give a silent thanks. the other's in the group one by one poked their heads from their relaxed positions inside the bed, voices all droning together in unison for an ungodly mixture of, "georgeee!"

popping the tab of the lemonade, george tilted his head towards the sky, pale neck fully on display as pink drips of lemonade streamed down his chin, the droplets smoothly cascading down to the peak of his collarbones at an agonizingly slow pace. the glistening of the liquid under the spotlight of the early dawn's rays accentuated each and every gulp periodically bobbing his adam's apple.

with his mouth being preoccupied, all the boy did in greeting to the company was a polite wave of his hand.

the sight didn't leave much to the imagination. at least not to dream. he caught himself finding that whole scene far more sensual than it should have been. he felt like he'd just watched the entire saga of 'baywatch' in the span of a few seconds. "holy shit", he muttered, not fully registering that he'd said his inner thoughts out loud for the world to hear.

the rest of the group had heard and laughed accordingly, and only then did dream realize his mistake. he figured the best way to avoid embarrassment and teasing would be to act bold, admit to what he'd done, and spin it around on george, knowing that the boy would become a flustered mess. the perfect draw of attention away from himself.

but quackity beat him to it, stating a simple, "that was so hot."

george's cheeks flushed red, flipping the group his middle finger as they all snickered, while he climbed into the truck with them.

sapnap and karl were sitting to george's right with the former's arm around karl's shoulder- not in an inherently non-friendly way, but with other context clues you could safely assume that it was a more than platonic interaction.

to his left, sat quackity and bad, with quackity now sitting atop the cooler to "assert his dominance" (so he said) over the rest of them, and bad happily twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

then directly in front of george, sat dream. he was leaning up against the body of the truck with his arms smugly resting over his chest, legs outstretched across the bed, and a dopey grin on his face.

each one of the boys had their own savory alcoholic beverage either within arm's reach, or directly in their hands. george fully sat down now, feeling situated, and outstretched his legs just as dream had, this causing the bottoms of their sneakers to line up and scuff against one another.