Please Let Me Go (dnf)

Skinny Dipping

"Well. Say something, idiot." George scoffed, shoving his hands roughly against Dream's chest. Maybe it was still the alcohol, maybe it was because the tone in George's voice brought Dream back to the reality that he was still this imposter of a friend, but either way, Dream allowed the shove to push him onto his back. The wet blades of grass he once welcomed now felt like icicles jabbing into his back.

The worst part? George had a point. What the fuck was that?

"I'm gonna be sick." Dream muttered, pushing himself to sit up and face away from George. He really was going to be sick. It must've been that those weren't anxious flutters in his stomach from kissing George, it was just the alcohol rising up his throat. He staggered as he stood, hunching over with his hands on his knees for support. Would it be worth it to try going inside and locking himself in the bathroom again? Actually, that bush looks a lot closer than the door..

"Woww.. Great performance, Dream." George remarked sarcastically, clapping his hands while also standing to catch up with Dream, who was on his way to the bush. The sound of his clapping was ringing in Dream's ears, each slapping sound making Dream's headache grow progressively worse.

"Shut the fuck up George, I'm actually gonna.." Ugh, here it comes. Dream hated throwing up. Hated it more than he hated this version of George. He had one hand on the side of the house for support, spitting the excessive saliva in his mouth onto the ground beside their feet. George stood directly behind him, making Dream regret not actually just spitting on George's shoes.

"No, no. This is rich. This is fucking fantastic. Performative heterosexuality at it's finest. Kissed a guy once and as soon as he turns you down- suddenly you're throwing up at the thought of acknowledging how disgusting what you did was. Kudos to you man, it was a wonderful acting job. I'd give it 4 stars, maybe not your next career move though. But really, you outdid yourself-" George rambled in the background. Dream was hardly listening to anything coming out of George's mouth. It was a new skill he had acquired since about the third day George was in the states- just completely tuning out anything he said. It made the days more bearable when he only heard half the dumb shit George was saying.

One hand gripped the jagged brick of the house's exterior, the other clenched to his stomach. This was the worst part, the knowing it's about to happen, the waiting for it to come, wishing it would happen so you can just get it over with. Dream never thought he was a very hateful person, but with his inhibitions lowered from the alcohol, he was creating quite the list.

He hated being drunk. He hated throwing up. He hated this party. He hated that Sapnap couldn't accept that he wasn't the kind of person who belonged at events like this. He hated that everyone treated him so differently since he face revealed. He hated that he couldn't go back in time and un-kiss George.

Fucking George. That was a category of its own. He hated the ungodly amount of gay jokes he made. He hated the way he laughed off any scenario, no matter how serious it was. He hated that George woke him up every morning by jumping on his bed and yelling like a child. He hated that he was so mad George didn't want to kiss him back.

Maybe all this was just a reflection on himself. Maybe he was just annoyed by the gay jokes because they pushed a boundary Dream hadn't even fully admitted to himself. Maybe he hated that George could let anything bounce off of him because Dream envied it. Envied being carefree, unapologetically yourself to a fault, not caring about what everyone would think. Maybe he hated that George woke him up by getting in his bed because he did it so casually. So casually that it was clear George had never thought of another reason Dream would want him in his bed. The only thing Dream was positive he hated about himself was that he wasted his first and only kiss with George on a drunken impulse that led them to this moment.