Ruin The Friendship [ dreamwastaken x reader ]

33 | aggravated

I need— we need—

"HEY! STOP RIGHT THERE!" Shouts an authoritative voice, somewhat distant, but close enough it's likely for us.

Unspoken, we do not stop. We break apart and fucking run. For once, I'm thankful for the weekend night crowd, everywhere particularly busy because of Halloween.

We weave through people, attached only where our hands are tangled together.

It's easy to get lost in it, singularly focused, feeling nothing but the physical adrenaline, labored breaths, and quick steps.

I'm not sure how long we're running straight before I feel confident enough to slow, tugging Clay to slow with me. He immediately stops, limping up to a curb and sitting the fuck down, clenching his stomach.

"Shit." Clay groans out.

I swallow my nerves, crashing from the earlier adrenaline, darting my eyes around to check for cops one more time before I push on his shoulder.

Clay grunts, shifting back with my guidance, looking up at me. I finally see his face.

There's... there's quite a bit of blood, some streaming from his nose, some from a busted lip, some from a cut above his eye. Speaking of, that eye is puffy, already swelling shut.

I immediately whimper, dropping into his lap and latching on, burying my face into his neck so I can breathe.

Clay briefly grunts in pain, which makes me feel bad, but he quickly lifts his hands to my back, wrapping me tight in his arms.

"I'm sorry." I whimper out. "I'm fucking— I'm so sorry." I continue, snuffling into his neck.

Clay grunts one more time, shifting his legs to support me better. I keep moving, pressing everything of mine to everything of his, our heavy breaths moving our stomachs together.

"Are you okay?" Clay asks, and I start to laugh, hysterical, pulling back with tears in my eyes.

"Am I okay? Are you fucking—" I sit up, laughing, lifting my hands to cup his face, pressing a thumb to his busted lip, watching as he flinches. "You got beat to hell— and you wanna know if I'm okay?"

Clay groans, trying to shake my hands, but I keep pressing closer.

"I thought I was about to watch you get pummeled you—" I stop, whining, swallowing my words, leaning in to press his face into my chest, cradling his head. Blood be damned. "Christ Clay, that was so close."

He groans again, soothing his hands up my back to my shoulders. "Cut me a little slack. I play fuckin' Minecraft all day. I'm not a fighter." He mumbles.

I laugh, only more hysterical, pulling back to search his face, touching it everywhere like I need to double check he's still there.

"Could've fooled me! Terminator lookin' ass—" I squawk, high-pitched.

Clay splits into a smile for that, laughing whenever he isn't groaning. I can't help that I lean in, pressing my mouth to his, pushing my tongue out to lick the blood from his lip, noises desperate in my throat.

He makes a noise of surprise before he pushes into it, moving against my mouth with a demanding insistency.

There's something communicated in the kiss that we're both too stupid to say: I'm scared. I need you. I can't lose you. But, we can both feel it in the way we're moving, pushing into each other's mouths and trying to claim space.

I break the kiss to breathe, but Clay surges forward, chasing it, and I'm locked right back in. My hands curl in his hair, pulling, pushing, doing fucking everything they can to move with this kiss, teeth clicking together with the effort we're using to push into each other.