"Oh, please. Dream lost that fight because he's a fucking pussy, and he doesn't know how to win. The man's never won a thing in his life. He needs his stupid ass British friends to come and save him," Brad retorted. 

"Oh, I'm the stupid ass?" George repeated. "At least I-"

"George," Dream stopped him mid-sentence by whispering in his ear and tightening his grip on his forearm. George closed his mouth and huffed. Dream was right; they didn't need a fight. Not here, not now.

"Oh, too pussy to finish that sentence?" Brad jeered.

"No, you're just not worth our time," Dream shot back.

"What are you, his fucking bodyguard? Every time I look at you, you're with him. Afraid I'm going to beat him up when you're not around?" Brad asked. He was really pushing for a fight.

"Fucking faggots," one of his friends chimed in.

"Yeah, what's the deal? You Gay for each other or some shit?" Brad asked, a sneer on his face. George sighed. This wasn't how he wanted to come out.

"Fuck off, Brad," Dream said angrily before sliding his hand down to George's wrist and pulling him away from the conversation. As they walked away, George heard Brad laughing to his friends, saying stuff like, "they totally are! Fucking weirdos!"

Dream led him upstairs, where there weren't as many people. There were only a few groups playing truth or dare and a some couples making out, but that was about it. They went to a secluded corner and George stomped his foot angrily.

"Why the hell does Brad have to be here?" George asked, fuming.

"I was afraid of this," Dream agreed with a shake of his head. "I knew those assholes would be here."

"Why didn't you fight back this time? You just let them call us all those... terrible names," George asked.

"George, that would have been worse for us if it resulted in a fight. All Brad was trying to do was get a reaction out of us. He knew that if one of us punched him first, he would be able to do whatever he wanted to us - punch us, kill us. It would all be labeled as "self-defense,"" Dream replied with a shrug. "Trust me, I want to punch his lights out just as much as you do."

"Fuck that guy," George cursed, fists clenched and body tense with anger. "What is wrong with him?"

"He's messed up in the head. Don't let him get to you," Dream answered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just don't even worry about it. Nobody else is going to judge us for being together except for him," he comforted.

"Ugh. What a jerk. He only hates what he can't understand; and that's a lot of things," George grumbled, allowing himself to relax slightly at Dream's touch. "I guess there will always be people in the world who will judge us. Maybe I should just get used to it."

"No," Dream stated, "never get used to it. Always fight for what you believe in, and never give up on what you love. It's not okay to judge people for something they can't control. It never will be okay. If people want to judge you, that's their problem, not yours. It usually means there's something wrong in their head, so most of the time you should ignore them - but don't let them get to you, and never get used to it."

George looked into Dream's eyes, his gaze softening. "You're right," he said softly before standing on his tippy-toes and planting a kiss on Dream's cheek. "Well said, dreamy boy," he said with a smirk. Dream smiled and ran a hand through George's hair before lifting the back of his head gently and kissing him on the lips. George wrapped his arms around Dream's waist, his heart fluttering when Dream's soft breath tickled his face. They held each other there for a moment before George pulled away.

"We should probably get back to the party. They'll be wondering where we are," he said with a smirk.

"No, they won't," Dream chuckled.

"Well... we should head back anyway. It's about time we check on Sapnap and Karl," George said. "It's been ten minutes, and I'm a little worried about them."

"Alright," Dream agreed, and they headed back downstairs. Lights were flashing around the room the music was so loud it seemed to be shaking the ground beneath George's feet. Almost instantly they found Sapnap and Karl passed out against the wall, slumped back-to-back with their drinks still in hand. George and Dream exchanged glances before laughing and moving to get them up. Dream took Sapnap and George took Karl as they stood them up to bring them to the car.

"What are you doing, mom? It's not time to go home yet," Karl asked in a slurred voice as George half-carried-half-dragged him towards Dream's car. He could barely keep his eyes open and his breath reeked of alcohol. George guessed he had more than just the punch.

"It's alright, Karl. I can't imagine the hangover you're going to have tomorrow," George said in an amused tone.

"Me and Nick didn't eat the gummy bears, I swear," Karl answered. George scoffed. Dream unlocked his car and they threw the two of them into the backseat, buckling them up to keep them from escaping. Dream had the courtesy to turn the AC on for them before they headed back inside to hang out for a little while longer. 

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