𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘀𝗰𝘂𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ° ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐⁿᵒᵇˡᵃᵈᵉ

𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 | 十一

CHAPTER WARNINGS
past mentions of
emotional manipulation,
emotional trauma,
sensory overload,
mentions of blood

▪

Techno didn't bothering waiting. He had no reason to.

Or not anymore, at least. If he was a little dumber, a little more oblivious towards the green eyes that stared at him in shock and realization, then maybe his calves wouldn't be burning from running out of the bathroom to the second floor hallways.

It was lunch time when he decided to bolt out of the bathroom, the blood was drying off ickily on his lip and under his nose and the busy hallways were parting dramatically for his heavy steps, whispering under their breath as they watch him, bloodied and beaten up to bruising, running for his life but he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

He could hear the shouting behind him and he could just imagine Clay-- Dream, to be hastily chasing after him in clumsy footsteps. If he wasn't adrenaline-filled as he was right now, he knows that he has no chance of outrunning someone as athletic as the blonde.

Even the mere thought of the younger sets his mind in a jumble of thoughts, much like a cheese grater getting too close to the foil of the packaged cheese while grating for a bowl of spaghetti that just makes his teeth clench in a grimace.

Eret does not know a single thing about what happened between the two of them and quite frankly, Techno himself doesn't quite know either. He lashed out, he had blown things out of proportion despite his good intentions. Or if you could even call insulting someone who turned out to be an actual queer person as a good intention.

He just doesn't want Clay-- Dream, to be getting too close to him. The boy had his reputations, he can't just bring him down the social hierarchy of highschool just because he tugs at the heartstrings of the pinkette with his persistent offer of friendship.

They're different.

Techno had long fallen off the pyramid and he'd stay at the bottom as long as he could, guarding off his vulnerability with harsh words and even harsher punches if they get too uncomfortably close. (The sudden taste of copper on his tongue was a reminder.)

And Dream... Techno simply does not deserve such kindness. It was overwhelming, something foreign that pulls at uncharted yet familiar territory. Getting too close to him will just end up hurting the two of them.

So he does what's he's best at. He runs away from it.

It just so happens that this time, someone was stupid enough to chase after him.

Techno broke out of his thoughts as he huffed out an exhausted breath, grasping at the stair railings and using the momentum to fling himself three steps at a time down to the cafeteria area.

"Dave, wait!" Dream shouts, alerting some of the students that stayed inside at lunch to gawk at the heavy footsteps outside of their classroom, and Techno had no time to be embarassed before he sees the blonde getting too close on his peripheral vision.

When the two boys reached the cafeteria in a march of squeaky rubber soles at cemented floors, they find the school counselor whipping her head at the commotion, the boy that Techno punched staggering behind her, face stuffed of bloodied cotton.

He's so fucked.

"Dave Watson! Follow me this instant!" The woman shouts, beckoning a hand at him angrily.
"You too, Clay!" She glares at the boy surely closing in behind him, a detention slip in her grasp with hastily written, chicken scratch rendition of Dream's name on the front.

"Shit," Techno hears Dream curse behind him.

Techno suddenly becomes hyperaware of his surroundings, the hundreds of eyes watching the chaos unfold, the persistent high-pitched voice of the school counselor ringing through his ears as she beckons at him with her red, chipping acrylic nails that looks quite like the drying blood on the collar of his button-up. It was all too much at once and he's suddenly very aware of the scratches of his glasses, blurring his vision further as he tries to push down the dread on his stomach.

A hand wraps itself on his wrist before he knows it, grounding him back as he realizes that he was now facing the blonde.

They stare at each other in a silent truce, green meeting brown, before Techno lets himself be pulled by the younger, the soles of his feet aching in protest as the school counselor shouts behind him.

The people stared at them-- at their joined hands, as they ran past the front doors of the school building, his breath struggling to keep up with Dream's running.

He doesn't need to worry. He doesn't need to shy away from their prying eyes, not when Dream only tightens his hold at his hand.

Let them know, he could almost feel it in his grasp.

And Techno decides to let his walls down for a moment.

Just this once.