1 am || dreamnotfound

four

clay's head snapped up at the voice and he narrowed his eyes.

that fucking boy was sneering. he had spun on the railings, his back now facing the water. his eyes were on clay as the blond gripped his skateboard and yanked it out, cursing as he almost dropping it.

clay set it on the ground and placed a foot on top of it, sliding it back and forth as he crossed his arms. "yeah, lucky, whatever. now, why the fuck are you everywhere i go?"

the boy frowned and hopped off the railing, instead leaning back against it, a brow slightly raised. "why are you everywhere i go?"

"you're the one who follows me everywhere!"

"i do not! i just ride around the neighborhood!"

"at one?"

"it's not like you don't either."

that got clay. the boy was technically correct. he also was out there, at one am, always.

the boy snickered when clay didn't answer and he only rolled his eyes.

his stomach suddenly rolled again and clay swallowed down the feeling. but it didn't stop. he turned away, covering his mouth as if it would do something.

clay rarely threw up after getting some weed with nick and punz.

but he also had way more today than normally.

though there was no concern in his tone or actions, the boy asked, "what?"

clay shook his head and forced another gag down. "leave it, not important."

"you're fucking high, aren't you?"

clay sputtered. "how'd you know?"

"you look like you're gonna throw up and you're getting pale, really pale." clay heard the boy mutter a "what the fuck am i doing" but instead, the boy said out loud, "you really need to get home before you do pass out."

clay sighed, "my house is far from the bridge."

the boy muttered something else under is breath that clay couldn't hear. out loud, he said, "i--god--fuck-- i can take you to my house."

clay heard the hesitation and little disgust in the boy's tone, but he couldn't blame him. he said, "really?"

"my reasonable self is telling me no, but yes."

clay rolled his eyes and was about to say that he was fine when his vision blurred slightly and he took a weak step backwards. the boy cursed. "jesus fuck, how much did you take?"

"a lot." it was a quiet mutter.

"my house is only like ten minutes away from here."

"fine." clay mumbled, stepping onto his skateboard and praying that he wouldn't fall off or anything stupid like that.

he heard wheels over pavement and tar and clay looked to find the boy riding beside him, an expression plastered on his face that he couldn't quite muster.

clay never even saw the skateboard when he had rolled over and he was blaming it on how high he was. like he always did.

they arrived at a house ten minutes later and while the boy stepped off smoothly, kicking his skateboard against the wall, clay almost stumbled off, his motions slow. but, the boy easily caught his board, which had flown forward, and set it up next to his.

the boy led him inside and upstairs. clay found the house very empty and lonesome. it looked like any other house with a normal living room and kitchen.

clay's hand flew to his mouth as they made it into the boy's room. his stomach rolled again, the feeling was horrible and clay tried to swallow down the gag and he managed to ask, "where's the bathroom?"

the boy pointed towards a door and clay hurried over, stepping in and shutting the door and collapsing on his knees in front of the toilet. he leaned forward, hands gripping the rim tightly.

the feeling of throwing up was just absolutely horrible. the way his stomach lurched and then seemed to beg for it all to stop.

finally, clay was able to flush the toilet and lean back against the wall, and wipe his mouth with his arm.

he rarely got any of this. his head was pounding, he knew his eyes were red, his throat felt dry, his stomach hurt, and he felt so lighthead.

so why now?

honestly, he figured that it was because of how much he took and that made him question how nick was doing, but he didn't want take out his phone.

there was a knock on the door and clay hummed, indictating for the boy to come in.

he did, stepping in and eyeing clay on the floor. he frowned. "stand up and wash your mouth so you can get the taste out."

clay got to his feet clumsily and stepped towards the sink, turning it on and lifting water to his mouth, swishing and spitting.

once he was finished, he turned it off and leaned against the wall, this time standing up. "um.. thanks..."

"george."

the boy--george, said.

and then george added, "you're gonna have to rest, you're gonna pass out at some point. c'mon."

clay followed and as soon as he made it to the bed, he fell into it, finding it surprisingly extremely comfortable. his eyes immideately threatened to close and he let them, feeling his conciousness drift away.
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a/n - ik some of this may not be realistic or the symptoms may not come so quickly but it's for the p l o t