FUCK YOU! → ( dnf )

FOURTEEN

clay dream
eleventh grade--

"you gonna do any lines?" dream asked nick, brushing his finger across his nose with a sniff. "or are you gonna pussy out, like always?"

"i'll just go upstairs and do some bong rips. you guys. . . enjoy yourselves," nick muttered, pulling his bag over his shoulder and heading up the stairs with heavy footsteps.

"what's his problem?" george mumbled from the floor, sniffing gently with a cough.

"i'm not sure. but, fuck it. gimme the card!"

* * *

"you have really small hands."

"huh?" george turned to face him with a perplexed look.

"last night when you held my hand. . . well, i noticed they were really small," dream replied with a shrug. "dunno, it's weird."

"well, i didn't exactly ask to have small hands, i-"

"no. it's weird that i'm thinking about you right now, george. i should be thinking about the coke in my nose, or the next girl i'm gonna fuck, but, instead. . ." he turned to face him. ". . .i'm thinking about you."

"well, just stop thinkin' about me," the brunette chuckled softly. "think about some really hot girl, or something."

"do you think about me? after. . . y'know?" dream asked shyly, laying his head on the carpet.

"yeah," george sighed, closing his eyes. "i don't really know what i was thinking. i shouldn't have jumped onto you like that. especially not after you just got dumped. i- well, i don't want you to think that i think you're a whore, or anything." he looked over at him before closing his eyes again. "it won't happen again."

"oh," dream propped his head up on his palm, rubbing his cheek. "all right, yeah." he chuckled gently, tilting his head to the side before sitting up. "i'm gonna. . . head to bed. you can stay on the couch, if you want." he stood up, not bothering to wait for a response before starting to walk up the stairs.

"good night!" george called from the living room, but dream didn't respond. he closed the door behind him, leaning against the wood with a heavy sigh.

fuck!

he groaned before throwing himself onto the bed. he tugged at the hair on his head before burying his face into the pillow.

"fuck~!" he hissed, pulling the covers over his head. he repeatedly punched the mattress beneath him before rolling onto his back.

he felt the warm tears stream down his cheeks, and he couldn't tell if it was from anger, sadness, or just because he was high. but, he didn't care.

he threw the blankets off of himself before walking into the bathroom. he stared at his reflection for a moment, scowling before letting out a soft groan. "god, what is wrong with you?" he angrily shouted at his reflection before punching the glass and shattering it with his knuckles.

he breathed shakily before falling back against the bathroom wall. he covered his face with his hands, sobbing gently.

he didn't even know why.

"hey, are you okay?" nick knocked on the bathroom door before opening it. "fuckin' hell, dream!" he grabbed a towel wrapping it around the blonde's hand.

"go away!" dream growled, shoving the latter away from him. "get out! go home!"

nick looked at him with a frown. "huh? i- i'm trying to help you!" he grumbled, picking himself up after dream pushed him over.

"i don't need you! fuck off!"

nick rolled his eyes with a scoff. "fine," he shrugged. "fuck you." he stepped out of the bathroom before going into the guest room to gather up his belongings. "don't ever ask me for help, dream." he walked hastily down the stairs before heading out the front door.

george watched him leave, wincing when the door slammed. he stood up from the couch, slowly making his way up the stairs.

he noticed the trail of blood droplets from the bathroom and into dream's bedroom. he sighed softly before opening the door, only to be pinned against it immediately after.

he raised his hands up in defense, turning his head to the side. "it's me," he alerted.

george could hear the latter breathing heavily, dream's grip on the brunette's shirt tightening. "did- did he actually go?" dream cried.

"yes," george answered simply with a soft sigh. there was a hand resting on his cheek, staining his skin and shirt a dark crimson.

"fuck," dream whispered, leaning into george's chest before sliding down to the floor; george slid with him to make sure he didn't hit his head.

"i'll tell him you're high, he- he'll understand," george said softly, rubbing dream's back.

"god, george." the blonde pulled away from the brown-eyed boy before shaking his head. "why did you- why do you have to-"

george gave him a moment to collect his thoughts, tracing circles on his shoulder to calm him down.

"so pretty." was what came next from the blonde's mouth. "why?"

"dream, i- i don't understand what you're trying to say?"

of course he didn't. george was an idiot. of course he wouldn't understand.

"george," dream slurred, shaking his head again. "i- when i said i was thinking of you. . . i- well, i was hoping you were thinking of me the same, but, i don't think you are."

"the same?" george hummed. his eyes were soft, trying his hardest to grasp what dream was trying to say. "dream, i thought of the moment we had for every second after it happened. i- god, it was good. i don't want you to think it was bad, or-"

"george, that's not what i mean," dream interrupted, shaking his head. "i think you're pretty, and that scares the shit out of me. i only call people i like pretty."

george nodded, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. "you're pretty, too, dream," he said. "and. . . i'm scared, too."

dream laughed softly, rubbing his nose. "i think you're high, georgie."

"maybe, but no drug could make me feel as good as you do."