dnf on demand

[7: Watch Now!]

This upload schedule was becoming a little bit too realistic, videos spaced out and sporadic just like their normal channels were, the ideas more doable in theory as always. Well, it's not like we're going to ignore the notification anyway. Content is content, after all.

Dream made his appearance on screen, solo on camera this time, standing in front of a mirror that had been hung on the wall next to the bed, seemingly just for the exact purposes of this video.

George, currently off to the side out of frame, but of course ever present, called out in a jeer, "Better give 'em what they came here for, Dream."

They exchanged what must be a tension filled glance, if the visible person's expression of resigned acceptance mingled with a barely held restraint of bursting dissent that simmered down with whatever silent response George gave him was anything to go by.

Dream let out a long sigh, wondering for a brief moment exactly why he was even here and more specifically why his audience insistently and incessantly made him be the subject of attention at all of George's mercy; he swore they had something against him, surely.

"We were sent another package for today," Dream began, warily eyeing the unassuming box that rested on the bed, "Though, I was requested not to look at the contents until we started recording, so George had the pleasure of seeing it exclusively."

He flicked his eyes over to where George was sitting out of view, distracted for a moment by whatever the other was doing, perhaps hearing a muffled response that lingered over Dream's use of pleasure, but it was just a notch too quiet for us to hear. He pulled himself out of the slight trance of looking over George, the subtle movement of his gaze traveling down before he became aware of it, then he moved on, Dream clearing his throat as he continued, "You said it was something for me to wear, yeah?"

"Yes, which means we're gonna need to see your current clothes come off right about now," George prompted, a grin evident in his voice.

"Was a strip show even part of this?" Dream asked incredulously as his fingers drifted down to the hem of his shirt, "Or is this just another one of your fantasies disguised under a viewer request?"

"No comment."

Dream shook his head softly, his voice edging on breathless in his disapproval, "You're such an idiot, that answer just gives you away."

"You know," George replied, ignoring Dream pointing out his logical fallacy, "I'm hearing so much talking and not a lot of clothes hitting the floor."

Dream attempted to look annoyed, but George constantly cut right through his reservations, his smile breaking out over his face even as he struggled to keep it from his lips, "You could always do it yourself."

"That's alright, I'll just direct you."

"Go on, then," Dream prompted, hands awaiting the other's command.

The creak of a chair indicated that George leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at this show, probably swiping his tongue over his lips in excitement as well, evident in Dream's satisfied reaction.

"Slide your hands down slowly over your stomach, yeah," George approved, "Just like that."

Dream's palms drifted down his abdomen, his fingers splayed, the touch a slow moving pressure that pushed his shirt down along with it, the neckline pulling to expose a collarbone in the process.

"Good, now cross your arms opposite each other and slide just right under your shirt, exactly, stay there for a moment."

Dream did so, his forearms connecting lightly, posed at the ready to strip off the article of clothing as George hummed his approval, lingering on this scene for a bit before moving on.