Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His father always told him to walk it off.

All the scratches and bumps a young child was inclined to get were met with a ‘just walk it off, lil’ buddy’ and a pat on his back and Techno always did just that. It worked. Sometimes it was followed up by his mom putting a bandage with some knock-off version of the cartoons he watched in the morning and he liked that more, even if the scratch was always gone a few hours later. His mom would follow up a day or so with a tube of Neosporin that never got much use and she’d smile and tell him that he was made of sturdy stuff. It always made him grin because she should know; his mom was wide and solid and she would carry all groceries in one hand and toss him, giggling, over her shoulder with the other.

The first accident was also the first time Techno remembered his dad’s face paling when he told him to walk it off. Techno had been six and just old enough to be allowed into the shed without supervision. It was full of scrap wood and old tools. It was better than a playground and Techno had decided to build a ramp for his bike. The training wheels had been off for a whole year. He was eager to advance his tricks from riding on the edge of the curb and pulling his front wheel up when he went over a particularly large stick to something cooler. The ramp, in hindsight, had been much too steep, using the back of the old pickup that didn’t start anymore as the platform. And because of where the truck been laid to rest, the path of the ramp headed directly to the shed.

Techno didn’t remember the accident itself. He remembered the sudden burst of fear when he realized the bike was going too fast and the shed was too close. He didn’t remember crashing through the plywood door that was painted white or being thrown onto the pile of scrap wood. Techno did remember the piece of wood sticking through his chest, the blood dripping off it, and feeling a sort of scared excitement as he pulled it out. He had gotten up, the piece of wood in hand, and gone to where his dad was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea and the paper. Blood had dripped all over the linoleum. His dad looked up, eyes wide behind his glasses, and Techno, dazed, said he was walking it off. After the hurried shower in the bathroom that got rid of the blood (blood was the only thing left), his dad had told him he did good, all he needed was to walk it off, but Techno had gone to bed thinking something wasn’t quite right as his parents stayed up, whispering.

The second accident, no one said anything about walking it off. A truck, much bigger than the one sitting in their backyard, had slammed into the front of their old sedan as his dad was waiting for the light to go green. The truck had driven up the hood of the sedan and put one of its large tires through the windshield. The driver had been drunk, Techno later learned, and turned down the street the wrong way going entirely too fast. His parents had died at the scene. He had been pinned in the backseat and his broken arm bone had gone through his chin. Unlike the bike accident, Techno understood he should be dead. His body should have been mangled (it had been, he had seen his own bones) but when he was pulled out of the wreck, the EMTs were saying things like ‘unharmed’ and ‘a miracle’.

But Techno knew the truth.

He couldn’t die.

When Dream was five, he died for the first time.

The trees on the property his house sat on were old, with large branches that had been meticulously trimmed and pruned over the years. His mom complained about them sometimes. The branches cast shade on the lawn and the grass beneath them was never as green as the rest of the lawn. His dad said they had been there for a hundred years so they stayed but they never had picnics under them (when they had picnics at all) because the dirt and the shade harbored bugs. Dream, for his part, loved the trees. He could see them from his bedroom window. The knots and roots twisted to make shapes that if you squinted sometimes looked like animals or monsters. He wasn’t allowed to play in them, the same way he wasn’t allowed to run too much or be too loud.

The day he died, Dream had snuck outside while his parents were busy. His mom had told him to be careful while eating breakfast because his clothes were new and she didn’t want any stains on them. He had been careful at breakfast and then playing in his room but he had gotten bored. It was easy to sneak outside and run quickly over to his favorite tree, the one with the low branches, without anyone noticing. He played in the roots, watching the bugs and tiptoeing around them as they crawled in the soft, dark soil. When he was bored with that, Dream had grabbed onto the lowest branch and pushed himself up, scuffing up his new sneakers in the process. His mom would be upset but the next branch was practically calling to him.

Dream had climb higher than he ever had that day. All the way up to the not-quite top, right before the branches thinned too much but so that when he looked through the leaves, he was eye-level with the roof of his house. The thought that drove him forward, to the edge of the branch he was clinging to, was that maybe if got closer, he could see through the windows. Maybe his dad or his mom would happen to stop or look up and see him and be so shocked at what a good climber he was, they would rush out, excited. Maybe they would take him to get ice cream, all of them together. He was thinking that as he inched out and the branch finally snapped.

He screamed on the way down, even louder when he hit a branch and it tore a hole through his leg and broke the bone clean before he kept rag-dolling to the ground. After that, everything went dark. The next thing he remembered was lying in the backseat of his father’s work car and his mother screaming. It was single high-pitched note over and over, like a broken siren. He heard his father telling her to shut up and Dream had sat up in the backseat and asked what was wrong. His mother had fainted on the spot while his father stared at him. Without a word, his father had picked up his mother and brought her inside, leaving Dream in his bloody clothes, confused.

His mother never looked at him much after that. There were no more bedtime stories and definitely no more picnics. A few months later, the morning after another fight that Dream had heard part of or at least heard her hysterical voice rising on the words ‘freak’ and ‘monster’, his mom left. His dad never gave an answer to why. He hired more staff. A cook and a tutor and a nanny. The first nanny left when Dream was eight and had dived head first into their pool despite the warning of the painted block letters on the concrete near the deep end. She hadn’t fainted like his mother but the look she gave him was the same.

This time, Dream knew why.

He just couldn’t stay dead.

Chapter Text

“It has a—a length overall of twenty-nine feet,” said Dream, stumbling a little over the term. He had read the brochure a dozen times and had listened intently to the salesman who had lost some of his enthusiasm when he saw Dream had come equipped with a list of questions. His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror. The faces of his friends were mostly obscured. “It’s like, yacht certified.”

The SUV hummed as it idled. Dream kept glancing at the light, still red, and the mirror.

“What the fuck is ‘yacht certified’?” asked Sapnap. It wasn’t really a question. “I didn’t think you could put a yacht on a lake.”

The light turned green and Dream revved the engine a bit before taking his foot of the break and driving forward. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you can. Besides, it’s a big lake, so.”

Someone in the back made a sound that was probably a laugh but quiet enough and with enough plausible deniability that Dream couldn’t say anything. He pressed down on the gas pedal. The SUV was right at the speed limit and he kept a careful eye on the red needle.

“Who cares about yacht certified, the only thing I care about is if it’s party certified, you know what I mean.” Quackity laughed, twisting a little in his seat to hold his hand up to Sapnap. Their palms connected with a slap. “Yeah, you know what I mean.”

The laughter rose and Dream had to stop himself from turning back to look at them. His grin was wide on his face even if there was a bit of an edge to it. He had to swallow back a comment about the boat, telling himself that it didn’t matter.

“Heh, yeah, well, it’s definitely party certified,” he said, laughing like he was in on the joke and ignoring the raised eyebrow look between Quackity and Karl. “I pre-stocked the whole cabin with everything we need for the weekend. Three days of partying, boys.”

He looked into the rearview mirror, partly judging the distance of the other vehicles as he merged onto the highway and partly watching his friends’ reactions. The mention of partying broke whatever tension had been in the air. Sapnap and Karl whooped as Quackity reached over to turn up the music, the subwoofers thumping. A frown twitched across Dream’s face and he almost told Quackity to turn it back down but he shoved down the flare of annoyance and smiled.

The highway was miles back and the last gas station this side of the small town before the cabin and the lake was disappearing behind them. The passengers in the SUV were now subdued, the excitement of a trip they made at least twice a summer having worn off in the first hour or so. Dream’s ass had fallen asleep and he was regretting rushing everyone back into the SUV after filling it up with gas. The eagerness to get to the cabin and see his friend’s faces when they saw the boat had won out. He shifted in his seat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The side of the road was now all trees with the occasional sign for a camp ground or the state park or boat ramps. A few more miles and there wouldn’t even be that, only gravel roads, one of them leading to Dream’s family cabin.

Dream was about to say something, something about if they were ready to get the party started but his mouth snapped closed when flashing lights appeared in the rearview mirror. The car behind them was silent, only the flashing lights, and it wasn’t until Dream began slowing down to pull over that the others in the car seemed to notice.

“What the fuck,” said Sapnap, turning in his seat to look out the rear window. “Why’s the cops stopping us?”

The SUV came to a stop on the gravel shoulder. Dream groaned softly to himself as he put the vehicle into park. The lettering on the side of the black and white car was just barely visible in the side mirror. He recognized it.

“It’s the sheriff,” Dream said, grabbing his wallet from the center console. “Again.”

This time Sapnap groaned, but loudly and exaggerated.

“Bro, seriously?”

The sheriff had gotten out of his car and paused to kick aside a flattened plastic bottle before walking up to the side of the SUV. He stood there, not bending down, for a moment and Dream put his hand on the button to roll down. The sheriff knocked on the window at the same time Dream pressed the button. Quackity scoffed in the passenger seat and Dream shot him a look before turning back to the window. The sheriff’s expression was impossible to judge, half-hidden behind his reflective sunglasses that had a green-gold color to them. It reminded Dream of an insect.

“I wasn’t speeding.” Dream would rather to get right to the chase. “I know I wasn’t because I—I have one of those apps, that tracks your speed.”

The sheriff tilted his head a little to look inside the vehicle.

“That’s not why I stopped you,” he said.

The only noise was the hum of the SUV’s engine as it idled. Dream swallowed when it became clear that there would be no explanation. He didn’t like this game.

“Okay, so why did you stop me? We’re not doing anything.”

It sounded too defensive to Dream’s ears. It was defensive. The last time he had been pulled over, it was for speeding, seven miles above the limit. Dream had done his best to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. He looked at the badge pinned to the sheriff’s shirt: S. Wadeson.

Finally, the man spoke.

“Are you coming up here for the long weekend? I don’t want any trouble this time,” he said.

Dream had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Someone – Karl, he thought – made a joke and the others snickered. The sheriff cleared his throat loudly and Dream glared at his friends.

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to cause trouble,” said Dream, looking back at the sheriff. “We’re going to my cabin. That’s not illegal, is it?”

The last question slipped out, still too defensive, now too annoyed. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling the leather stick to the tips of his fingers. The sheriff put his hand on the door. His thumb was inside the vehicle and Dream thought about pressing the button to roll up the window. The corner of his mouth twitched as he imagined the look on the man’s face when the window caught his thumb. The sheriff leaned down enough that him and his hat filled Dream’s field of view.

“That depends on how you act, doesn’t it? I better not get a call about disorderly behavior. I don’t want to spend my weekend making sure you’re behaving.”

Dream felt himself sinking down in his seat.

“Yeah, okay, Sam.” The name felt weird on his tongue. He rolled his eyes, partly at himself for the thorn of fear that had gotten stuck in his chest. “I already said we’re not going to do anything.”

No one snickered or muttered under their breath. Dream could hear his heart pounding above the sound of the engine. He clenched his jaw, staring at the sheriff’s sunglasses. His reflection was distorted and a sickly green. Sam slapped the roof of the car.

“Sheriff,” he corrected as he straightened, standing back to his full height. “I’ll be keeping an eye out.”

Letting go of the steering wheel, Dream wiped his palm off on his pant leg before putting his finger on the button to roll the window up.

“Sheriff,” Dream repeated back on instinct. He scrapped his nail against the edge of the button impatiently. The sheriff didn’t move. “Okay, well. Have fun with that, I guess.”

He pressed the button and the window rose with a whir. A part of him expected Sam to reach his hand out and try to stop the window – he could picture it so vividly – but nothing happened but the window closing and the button giving a soft click as Dream moved his finger away. In the sideview mirror, he could see the sheriff walking back to his car.

“Bro,” said Sapnap. The sound of the car door shutting could be heard at this distance and a moment later the sheriff’s car pulled off the shoulder and did a U-turn in the empty road. “What a fucking killjoy, bro, like seriously.”

That broke the tension that had been growing and Dream grinned.

“Right? What—What stick is up his ass?”

In the passenger seat, Quackity shook his head before rolling down his window and pulling his vape out of his pocket.

“Who fucking cares,” he said, flipping the long cylinder over his knuckles like a magician doing a coin trick before starting to lift it to his mouth.

“Seriously, man? Don’t smoke in my car, that shit reeks,” said Dream. His grin was gone.

Quackity scoffed, throwing his hands up.

“It’s fucking Strawberry Ice, it doesn’t reek.”

The first time Quackity had brought the vape into the SUV, after Dream had banished his cigarettes, he had let it slide, thinking it couldn’t be worse than the real thing, but the sickly sweet smell had lingered for days until Dream had gotten the interior detailed. He had told Quackity that he was lucky he wasn’t making him pay for it.

“Yeah, well, it’s my car and I said no,” he said. “Unless you want to pay to clean it this time.”

Awkward silence stretched on for a beat or two but then Quackity scoffed again and shoved the vape back into his pocket.

“Whatever,” he muttered before reaching out and turning up the music. Quackity looked back over his shoulder at the other two in the back. “We’re here to fucking party, right boys!”

The statement elicited cheers and Dream swallowed his annoyance about what had just happened. They were here to have a good time, not rehash old arguments, as much as it irritated him. Putting the vehicle back into drive, Dream took his foot off the break and the SUV rolled forward.

“Yeah, let’s fucking go,” said Dream and pressed down on the gas as he pulled back onto the highway.

Dream slowed down and flicked on his turn signal. There were no other cars on this stretch of road, a small rural road of the highway that was full of badly batched potholes. He checked the rearview mirror as he slowed down and turned down a gravel road. It had been recently graded and the new gravel was flung out behind the SUV. A gate was ahead, black wrought iron, and Dream brought the vehicle to a stop next to the keypad that was about five feet in front of the gate. He rolled down his window and leaned out to punch in the code that hadn’t changed in years. The gate creaked then began to slowly open and Dream inched the SUV forward, impatient, before he could pass and continue up the long drive.

The cabin had been in Dream’s family since before he was born but only just. It wasn’t old or rundown. It had been newly built when his family bought it twenty-two years ago. The windows facing the lake were two stories high and the paneling on the front was meant to invoke the idea of a log cabin without the downside of it actually being a log cabin. It was thoroughly modern – for the early aughts – but playing at being rustic and had cost around half a million even two decades ago. Dream was certain it was worth at least two million now, if only for the fact it was a large piece of waterfront land that was out of the way. The privacy was unmatched because there was another lake about sixty miles to the south that was lined with public docks and beaches and the lake town had both a McDonalds and a Starbucks along with a few hotels. The closest town to his family’s cabin had a gas station that wasn’t even open twenty-fours but it did sell beer so there was that.

Pulling onto the concrete pad in front of the house, across from the basketball hoop, Dream put the SUV into park and turned it off. The engine clinked softly as it began to cool.

“Thank fucking god,” said Sapnap, already unbuckling and shoving his door open. “I need to take a massive shit.”

Laughter erupted from the other two as they followed suit and got out of the vehicle. Dream rolled his eyes, grinning, and got out as well, stopping to stretch for a moment. No one had grabbed any of the bags that filled the back of the SUV and wrappers and empty bottles littered the floor.

“Seriously? You’re—You’re going to stink up my place already? Come on,” Dream said as he moved around to the back and opened the trunk. He grabbed his bag, keys still in his hand, and started to grab another before deciding against it. He shut the trunk.

Sapnap and the others were already half way to the door of the cabin.

“It already stinks. It smells like a dead grandma in there. How am I going to make it worse?”

The comment garnered more laughter. Dream snorted as he pushed past Karl and Quackity who were waiting on the steps of the porch. Large concrete flower planters flanked the porch. Nothing had been planted in them since Dream’s mother had left. With one hand, Dream flipped through his keys until he came to cabin’s key and unlocked the door.

“Well, to be fair, it’s the moth balls and plastic covers that make it stink,” said Dream. He opened the door and was hit with a smell that wasn’t quite ‘dead grandma’ but a slightly musty chemical smell. It had been almost a year since the last time anyone had been up here. Behind him, either Karl or Quackity made a gagging sound. “Oh my god, whatever, I’ll open the windows. Just take off your shoes.”

The entryway was empty of the pairs of shoes and light jackets that used to line the wall or hang on the hooks when Dream was a kid. Scuff marks marred the base boards and he had never bothered to fix it. The door to the half-bath was partially open and Dream shoved it the rest of the way, glancing in to make sure the roll of toilet paper that had been left balancing on the edge of the sink was still there. He toed off one of his sneakers, kicking it to the side. Sapnap headed right into the bathroom as Quackity and Karl started down the short hall to the main room of the cabin.

“Seriously? I said to take off your shoes, come on.” Dream kicked his other shoe off and pushed it out of the way. “That’s like, the one rule.”

Quackity waved a hand, not stopping or turning to look back.

“One rule, right,” he said and Dream could hear him rolling his eyes. “The floor’s covered dust and shit, dude, who cares.”

Frustration welled in Dream’s chest. He wanted to argue but he knew Quackity was already annoyed over the vape and the fact they were coming out to his lake house in the first place. He kicked at his shoe with a groan before following after them.

“Whatever.”

The main room of the cabin was large and open. On one end was the kitchen, a long marble breakfast bar separating it from the rest. Dream tossed his keys onto the counter and moved to open the window above the sink. The frame creaked, sticking for a moment, before he was able to push it open. He heard the plumbing rattle as Sapnap flushed and came out into the hallway.

“Oh my god, I needed that. My ass is thanking me,” he said, stretching his arms out over his head.

From the main room, Karl and Quackity both made gagging sounds. Dream snickered, shaking his head, and stepped around the counter. The large windows had a view of the dock and the lake. Outside of them, was a large deck. The furniture and swing were the same set his mother had picked out when he had been less than a year old. The rest of the furniture – the flat screen TV and sectional couch and pool table – were all new, bought by Dream a couple years back because he couldn’t imagine his friends on his mom’s couch or his dad’s recliner. The plastic cover for the couch had been haphazardly put on the last time he left and Dream tugged it off. Quackity brushed past him.

A loud swoosh and ding coming from his pocket stopped Quackity in the middle of flopping down onto the couch. He dug his phone out and the screen lit up his face as he leaned against the arm of the couch.

“Nice! Max and the guys are here,” Quackity said, bouncing his foot against the base of the couch. “Yo, Dream, what’s the gate code?”

The plastic couch cover crinkled in Dream’s hands as he balled it up, frowning. There had been no mention of anyone else, not before the trip or during the hours long drive out to the cabin. He was familiar with Max, had hung out with him before, but hadn’t invited him or even wanted to. Tossing the plastic cover into the corner of the room, Dream glanced at Sapnap and Karl. They were messing with the pool table, its cover on the floor.

“What? I didn’t know he was coming.”

Quackity shrugged, turning his hands upwards, and gestured with his phone.

“What can I say, I forgot! I forgot, okay? I can’t just tell them to go home, okay, Dream. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

The last sentence was drawn out. One of Quackity’s eyebrows was arched so high that it was partially hidden by the rim of his knitted beanie. The frustration was back and he clenched his teeth, holding back the curses he wanted to spew. He couldn’t say no without being the bad guy and he thought that Quackity knew it.

“Who all is with him?” asked Dream, stalling.

A sigh escaped Quackity. He set his phone on his knee, drumming his fingers on the screen with a tap-tap-tap-tap.

“How the fuck do I know? Probably just Jancy.” Quackity picked up his phone again and swiped a finger across the darkened screen. When he spoke next, his tone was playful and he was grinning. “Come on, Dream. Come on. It’ll be a real party, right, guys?”

Neither Sapnap or Karl had been paying much attention to the conversation. The balls on the table had already been racked up and Karl was rolling them back and forth.

“Yeah, come on, Dream, don’t be a killjoy,” Karl said, shaking the triangle containing the balls even harder. His smile was wide.

Dream rolled his eyes. He had known this was how it would end and couldn’t fully say that he cared that much. The cabin had plenty of room and his new boat that was moored at the dock at the waterline of his family’s property had plenty of room.

“Fine. The code is 1239,” said Dream.

“Sweet.” The phone clicked softly as Quackity texted the people at the gate. The smile was still on his face and he shook his head, looking up at Dream. “That is such a shitty code.”

It wasn’t just Jancy in the car with Max.

The car pulled into the driveway and parked behind Dream’s SUV at an angle. It was a dusty maroon colored sedan that Dream had seen a few times, on nights out. The other passenger he had also seen a few times, once at a house party and once at concert they had gone to. His name was escaping Dream at the moment. Quackity stepped down off the porch and held his arms out wide.

“Fellas, it’s good to see you,” he said as he embraced Max, thumping him hard on the back. He let go and did the same to Jancy and the other man. “It is good to see you.”

Dream stood on the porch, trying not to fidget, a tight smile on his face. When Quackity and his friends turned to head back to the house, Quackity barely glanced at him but Max grinned and nodded. Some of the annoyance that Dream had felt faded. He returned the nod and waited util the other two had gone by before turning and following. The only pair of shoes by the entrance were his own and Dream bit back another demand that they take their shoes off. They were already at the main room, being greeted by Sapnap and Karl. He hurried down the hall.

“Holy fuck, how big is this place?” Jancy asked as he looked around.

“It’s—It’s like, four thousand square feet.” The marble countertop was cool under Dream’s hand as he leaned against it. The others turned to look at him except for Quackity who was looking at Karl. The way Karl snickered and raised his eyebrows meant they were sharing some unspoken exchange. Dream frowned and spun his keys, listening to them scrap against the stone. “My dad bought it right after it was built so he like, had a lot of things put in.”

The answer was met with a beat of silence and Dream put his hand over his keys, stilling them. Jancy nodded.

“Oh, cool. That’s stupid big,” he said.

It was stupid big but Dream had always been proud of it and felt his cheeks warm at the comment. The few good memories of his childhood had been made here. There was no office and his father had silenced his work phone and his mother had made breakfast for them herself each morning.

“Yeah, well, we had family reunions and stuff here. There’s extra fridges in the basement and they’re full of beer. I’m—I’m going to load up the coolers for the boat.”

Moving to the window, Dream craned his neck to get a view of the dock and the boat that was moored there. He had it brought up the weekend before to make sure everything was perfect. The early morning sun was shinning, making the white of the boat even brighter and the emerald green stipe sparkle. The color was uncommon for boats but Dream had insisted.

“What, right now?” asked Sapnap.

Dream turned and lifted his hands.

“Yeah. The whole reason we came up here so early was to be able to spend the day on the lake,” he said. Dream had said it more than once, had badgered them all into getting up earlier than any of them ever had unless it was for work or school. “Look, that’s—that’s the plan. I’ll go get the boat loaded and you can just chill or whatever while I do.”

Someone groaned and Dream whipped his head towards the sound, mouth pulled into a frown.

“Seriously? We just got here, Dream. Literally just walked in the fucking door.” Quackity had finally shifted to face him. “How about we chill for one goddamn minute?”

The frustration from before was twisting into anger. Dream huffed quietly. His friends’ faces ranged from ambivalent to annoyed.

“You can chill while I load up the boat. It’ll take me a bit anyway. We can have lunch or something before we leave then we’ll have all afternoon on the lake.”

This time the groans came from more than one person and Dream felt his patience wearing thin. Karl reached over the pool table and gave Sapnap a light shove.

“What if Sapnap has to shit again?”

“Yeah, what if I have to shit again?”

Dream rolled his eyes.

“It has a bathroom. The cabin is huge for the kind of boat it is, okay. You can shit on the boat.”

The look on Sapnap’s face was skeptical and Dream wished he had brought the brochure with him. That would have helped to explain everything and maybe ease their minds about the whole thing. Not that he thought he should have to. Sapnap rolled one of the pool balls.

“If you want to deal with my stench then be my guest, I guess,” he said.

The thought did almost give Dream pause but he had planned the entire day out and timed their trip and he had no desire to change that up. He could feel himself wavering, just a little.

“Do you always have to be such a fucking control freak,” said Quackity and it didn’t sound like a question. “It’s fucking annoying.”

The tone of Quackity’s voice crushed any leeway Dream was considering. His cheeks were bright red and he took a deep breath through his nose.

“Well, to be clear, it’s my cabin and my boat and I was the one who drove so, yeah, Quackity, I do have to be a control freak about what we’re doing,” he said, back teeth grinding slightly as he spoke.

There was a shift in the room. Everyone but Dream and Quackity found a reason to either look at the floor or up at the vaulted ceiling. Dream’s face was still burning but he kept his eyes on Quackity. Someone muttered ‘awkward’ under their breath and Dream almost looked away then. Finally, Quackity threw up his hands with a noise of disgust.

“Sorry, Dream. Sorry, I didn’t know the stick was that far up your ass. We can do it your way. Again.”

Karl whistled. The anger in Dream’s chest was heavy and he curled his hands into fists but Sapnap gave a chuckle and he decided it wasn’t worth it. The argument would be pointless; he had already gotten what he wanted.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’m going to go load up the boat.”

Without help, it had taken Dream longer to load up the boat than he had planned. Lugging each of the full coolers from the basement down the gravel path to the dock had made him sweat and on the second trip down, he took off his hoodie and hung it on one of the pilings. The third trip, he had balanced two shopping bags full of chips and pretzels on top of the cooler and cursed under his breath when his foot caught on the edge of the dock where the gravel finally ended. He almost dropped the bags but he leaned back and the bags slid, hitting him in the face. By the time he had finished and made it back up to the cabin, everyone else had finished eating their food. Only some of the pre-made sandwiches he had bought were left and Dream had scarfed down half of it while standing in the kitchen.

The clock on the oven and the microwave showed different times, off by an hour and one minute. Dream knew which one was the right time. 12:47 p.m. Almost an hour later than the time he wanted to be on the boat and heading out to the lake. He brushed some of the crumbs away and cleared his throat.

“Are you guys ready?” he asked.

His friends looked over at him. They had changed into their swim shorts and the room smelled like sunscreen lotion. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. Things were coming together. Not even the way Quackity rolled his eyes could dampen the feeling. Dream drummed his hands against the counter.

“Yeah, guys, are we ready? The tyrant of our weekend wants to know,” said Quackity. He was grinning and his tone was light, playful. “He wants to know.”

It was hard to tell if Quackity was joking. Dream had never been good at reading people but it felt like a joke. Karl was laughing quietly and Sapnap was returning Quackity’s grin. Pushing away from the counter, Dream stepped towards the hall.

“Ha ha, very funny, Quackity.”

The bowl on the console table held various spare keys, mostly to the shed around the side, but Dream had left the boat keys there the weekend prior. A bright orange keychain was attached, the sort made out of stiff foam and designed to float if it fell into water. He grabbed the keys.

“It’s pretty funny,” Sapnap said.

Dream spun the key on his finger. The orange keychain became a blur.

“Whatever, let’s go.”

Spinning on his heel, Dream walked to the door and began putting his shoes on, expecting that the others would follow. He was right and by the time he had opened the door, the others were crowding around, chattering amongst themselves. He wanted to join in the conversation but there was no opening and nerves were making his stomach do flips. The path down to the dock was gravel and clearly marked by a row of rough, decorative stones on either side with solar powered lights that Dream had stuck in the ground at random intervals.

“That’s the boat?” Sapnap asked and there was a touch of awe in his voice.

Dream grinned as he stepped onto the dock. The air was warm and wet, the water lapping against the hull of the boat. He reached over and grabbed the shiny railing that lined the sides of the boat.

“I told you it was nice,” he said. “It’s literally the best boat you can get for a lake like this. I—I haven’t named her yet, though.”

Some part of Dream was hoping that maybe one of his friends would suggest a name but no one did. Max walked up to the boat and kicked the hull lightly with the toe of his shoe.

“What’s it made of?”

The question went almost fully over Dream’s head though he knew the specs of the boat by heart (fiberglass hull with kevlar reinforcement), anger clouding his thoughts.

“Seriously? Don’t kick my boat,” snapped Dream.

It was quiet on the dock for a moment except the sound of the water and a couple distant birds. His friends exchanged glances and finally the silence was broken by Karl giving a low whistle.

“Touchy,” he said.

The others laughed. Dream sighed. No damage had been done to the boat and arguing about it would only delay things further. He forced a smile on his face and began to undo the mooring, the keys still held tight in his hand.

“Yeah, I am!” A forced laugh went with his forced smile. “It was expensive. Come on, can we go now? I’ve got everything loaded up. By—By myself, I might add.”

Quackity gave him a slap on the back, laughing.

“Yeah, let’s go before Dreamie here has a breakdown.”

The sun made the water glisten gold and blue, the waves catching the light and reflecting it back like pinpricks. The boat rocked back and forth slowly. The lake was large enough that there were no other boats in sight – though one had cut through the water earlier, even before Dream and his friends had stepped foot on the dock – but it was a long, narrow lake that was vaguely shaped like a ‘C’. One end, the end where Dream’s cabin sat, was wider and deeper and the waves were a bit higher, pushed by the wind as it blew across the surface. That was where Dream had dropped the anchor. The cabin was a dot of reddish-brown to the west and to both the east and south, the rocky shore was lined with pine trees.

It would have been a tranquil scene had it not been for the music blaring from the built in bluetooth speakers connected to Quackity’s phone that was tucked up on the ledge behind the seats in the front of the cockpit. A beer bottles rattled around on the floor of the boat and a few wet towels were in a heap, shoved into the rounded corners of the seating area. Dream rolled his beer between his hands. It was still cold and wet with condensation. The water that dripped from the bottle onto his clothes was about as wet as he had gotten, despite all the goading from the others. Dream had shown them the hydraulic swim platform but said someone needed to stay with the boat, just in case, and it was his boat, after all. A few jokes about him not being able to swim were made and Sapnap had called him a pussy but they had all jumped in and he had stayed behind to watch.

An hour later and everyone had climbed back out and dug into the chips Dream had brought. The cooler was almost empty. There was a buzz in Dream’s head and it seemed as if everyone was talking louder than usual. It had been awhile since he had drank. He jumped slightly when Quackity sat down on bench seat next to him.

“Dream. Dream,” said Quackity, leaning in a little. Despite the fact that he had been in the water with the others, the beanie was on his head. He grinned. “I’ve got to hand it to you, this boat is fucking mint, man.”

The smell of alcohol was heavy on Quackity’s breath and Dream leaned back a little even as he returned the grin.

“Yeah? What did I tell you, it’s one of the best there is,” he said. A flutter of pride was dancing around in Dream’s chest. He would never admit it but it had taken months of research and salesmen assuming he didn’t know what he was talking about or wanted. Dream thought it had been worth it.

On the seats to the left, Max snickered quietly, nudging Jancy’s shoulder. They were both on what had to be their third beer each. Dream kicked one of the bottles on the floor as he looked over at them.

“What—What’s funny?”

Max was about to say something but Sapnap spoke first, slurring his words just a little. He had just opened up his fourth beer.

“Your face is funny.”

It wasn’t fully clear if he was speaking to Dream or to Max.

“Yeah, well, you—you have a face that only, like, Karl would love,” Dream said with a snort, his mouth pulled into a lopsided smile.

Karl was stretched out on the seat, head resting in Sapnap’s lap. His arm was dangling down, swinging back and forth, but he jerked up the moment Dream said his name, almost knocking his head into the bottom of Sapnap’s beer. Some of it spilled when Sapnap pulled it out of the way.

“Why am I out here catching strays?”

Leaning back, Dream’s smile widened.

“You’re not. I was talking about Sapnap’s dumb face.”

Next to him, Quackity laughed and threw his arm around Dream. The tips of Quackity’s fingers pressed into his shoulder. For a brief second, Dream felt trapped in place. It was the alcohol talking, making his limbs feel heavier. Quackity was still laughing but quieter now.

“No, no, no. Karl deserves it, you’re right. You’re right, Dream,” he said and gave Dream a little shake.

The expression on Karl’s face was offended and he looked around for something to throw, settling on an empty bag of chips. It made it about half way before it began to fall and the wind pushed it back into the corner. There would be a lot of cleaning up to do later, Dream realized.

“Oh, fuck you, too, Quackity. You’re a dick,” said Karl. He laid back on Sapnap’s lap.

The song playing ended and for a couple seconds, the only sound was the water lapping against the hull of the boat.

“Yeah, and you want to suck this dick.” With his free hand, Quackity grabbed his crotch. The smile on his face was wide and brilliant. “Don’t deny it.”

Everyone laughed as the new song started it up.

“Gross,” said Jancy.

At the same time, Sapnap said, “Yeah, you wish. The only dick he’s going to be suck is mine. Oooh, got ‘em!”

Sapnap’s laugh was louder than the others, a defined ‘hee hee’ sound. He held up his hand, palm flat, above Karl and Karl slapped it in a lazy high five. Next to Dream, Quackity rolled his eyes and leaned closer. His hand was still on Dream’s shoulder.

“Like that’s a loss,” he said. “Like that’s a fucking loss. Besides, I’d rather have Dream suck my dick.”

At the last sentence, Quackity had turned his head towards Dream, beer-breath hot on Dream’s cheek. It was a joke, the sort of joke that they had made a hundred times over. But when Dream looked at Quackity, ready to make some sort of quip, he winked. Dream’s stomach turned over. He swallowed, started to shift away, and then stopped.

“Yeah, okay, funny,” said Dream because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Funny?” Quackity placed his hand on his chest, over his heart. He leaned back a little. “I’m wounded, Dream, really. I’d love for you to suck my dick.”

The words no longer sounded like a joke. Dream was suddenly very aware of how close Quackity was to him. The front seating area was made for at least eight people – the boat had a capacity for thirteen passengers – but it was still a boat and Dream could feel Quackity breathing against his side. Someone let out an ‘ooooh’ and Dream blushed.

“Okay, w-well.” His tongue felt thick. “That’s—That’s great.”

That wasn’t what he had wanted to say. Dream had wanted to say ‘that’s not going to happen’. He knew that something was going on between Quackity and Karl and Sapnap. If it was serious or casual, Dream had never been privy to that but it was something. And he should’ve shut this conversation down but he didn’t. He’d always been a little annoyed about the not being privy to it thing.

“Damn, Quackity is about to get lucky,” Max said, drawing out the last syllable, before whistling, the tone mimicking the way he had said ‘lucky’.

The heat on Dream’s cheeks rose and he started to move away but Quackity tightened his grip on his shoulder. Dream put his palm onto the seat. He could feel his skin sticking the material. Sweat had beaded on the back of his neck. All he could smell was beer and sunscreen.

“I—”

The protest that Dream was about to give was cut off. Quackity’s hand was on his thigh. The touch was light but Dream couldn’t think straight. It was the alcohol, it had to be.

“What do you think, Dream?”

Quackity wagged his eyebrows. The way he was grinning made Dream think it had to be a joke. Some joke he was only partially in on. A ‘no’ was still on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t get it out and he didn’t know why.

“I-I—I guess,” he said. His stomach did another flip, torn between giddiness and fear. He looked over his shoulder towards the helm. “There is a cabin. It’s—It’s actually pretty big.”

On the other seat, Sapnap choked on the sip of beer he had just taken.

“What the actual fuck?”

Karl snorted.

“Don’t be a fucking buzzkill, man. Let Quackity hit that.”

The warring mix of emotions in Dream’s stomach only intensified. Crushes had always been a flitting thing for him, something that he brushed off because it hadn’t fit in the idea of he had of his life. Or what his life seemed to have in store for him. But he had thought about it. He had thought about it enough that when Quackity twisted his body towards Dream and rubbed his hand against his thigh, letting it sit on the inside, Dream didn’t shove him away. The smile Quackity gave him was even wider.

“Yeah, Dream, let me hit this,” he said.

The smell of beer on Quackity’s breath felt overwhelming. Out of the corner of his eye, Dream could see the others watching. He could feel Quackity’s hand creeping up between his legs. Reaching down, Dream put his hand over Quackity’s, stopping him.

“Okay—Okay, okay, listen.” His beer was slipping between his fingers and some of it sloshed out onto his lap. Dream regretted drinking any of it at all but he took a long drink because he needed to do something with it. It went down horribly. “We can just—We can just go in the cabin.”

When he had first suggested going to the cabin, it had been a genuine suggestion. A large part of Dream had wanted to. He wasn’t sure that was the case now. The cabin was a refuge from the fact all the others were staring and snickering. Embarrassment and anger were winning out. Quackity pulled Dream closer, trying to inch his hand upwards.

“The cabin is boring, Dream, okay. The cabin is boring,” said Quackity, still smiling. He shifted in his seat, pushing his knee between Dream’s legs. “C’mon. Or does it always have to be your way?”

Dream flinched slightly at the question. It had been the point of contention this entire time and even before. It wasn’t that they had to do things his way, but that Dream liked it that way and it was almost always his plans, his car, his cabin. It should be that way, shouldn’t it.

“What? No.” His voice rose. “Just—Just because I don’t want to suck your dick right here? That’s not the same—”

In his anger, he had pulled his hand away. Quackity took that opportunity to slide his hand up Dream’s thigh, brushing over his crouch, before teasing his fingers beneath the hem of Dream’s shirt.

“Yeah? So prove it.” Quackity’s hand was pressed against Dream’s stomach, hot and sweaty. His knee pushed further between Dream’s legs. “C’mon, prove it. Loosen up, man, and fuck me.”

Quackity laughed. A loud buzz was in Dream’s ears and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol. He felt sick. He felt like he couldn’t move. 

“Yeah,” said Max, his voice slurred. “Yeah! Fuck him!”

Someone gave a wordless cheer then a chant of ‘fuck him, fuck him’ started up, loud enough to drown out the music that was still playing. The hand that Quackity had on his shoulder moved to his back and Dream felt himself, for one strange and confusing moment, leaning into the touch, but the hand on his stomach crept upwards until it touched the edge of Dream’s binder. The haze vanished. The beer he had been holding dropped to the ground as Dream shoved Quackity back.

“No! What the fuck!” He spat the words out, angry and dizzy. Dream wanted to get up but his limbs felt like jelly and he was light-headed. Quackity was still close and Dream shoved him again, harder, causing him to slip back. “Fuck off, Quackity, I—I don’t want to fuck you now.”

The pleasant look on Quackity’s face was gone. He looked pissed. The chant had slowly died, Jancy holding on a little longer. The beer from Dream’s dropped bottle was spilling across the deck of the boat as it rolled with the rocking of the boat. Dream could see Quackity’s chest rising and falling quickly beneath his slightly damp shirt.

“Fuck,” Karl said, finally sitting all the way up. “I guess the party’s over.”

Dream stared down. Already the boat was trashed. The anger was still heavy and he held onto it because otherwise he might think too hard about what had just happened.

“Nah.” Quackity’s laugh was sharp. “Fucking nah. I’m tired of this shit.”

Lifting his head, Dream was about to tell him to go to hell but his mouth snapped shut, teeth catching the tip of his tongue, as Quackity grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him back against the seat. Dream was taller than Quackity, though leaner, and it should’ve been easy to move away but it felt like it happened too quickly. He couldn’t even remember when Quackity had gotten on top of him, knees pressing down into the faux leather seat on either side of him.

“What the hell, Quackity!”

It didn’t sound urgent enough to Dream’s own ears. Part of him, even with Quackity pinning his arms down, couldn’t believe this was happening. The smile was back on Quackity’s face, like a knife.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he said, lowering his head closer to Dream’s ear. “Don’t blue ball me, Dreamie.”

The nickname made bile rise in Dream’s throat. There had always been something in the undertone that made Dream feel like it was a joke at his expense. He twisted beneath Quackity, all too aware that the other was hard.

Is this what turns him on? thought Dream wildly.

“Get off me! I—I said—”

The slap caught Dream off-guard. Quackity was drunk, was apparently horny. He didn’t know what he was doing or how far this had gone. The plausible deniability was there and Dream could’ve walked away from this annoyed at most. He found himself going limp, eyes watering and cheek stinging. The moment he stopped resisting, Quackity let go of one arm and shoved his hand down Dream’s pants. His fingers rubbed against Dream’s crotch and Dream had to swallow back the vomit in his mouth. He jerked his head forward and the top of his skull connected with Quackity’s chin.

“Fucking ow, you bitch!”

Quackity fell back, landing on the deck of the boat, and rubbed his chin. He looked furious. Dream got to his feet and for a moment he thought he was going to fall; he felt dizzy and sick, face flushed. All the others were watching. Sapnap and Karl looked surprised, exchanging a glance.

“I’m—We’re going back,” said Dream. His voice sounded shaky and unsure despite the anger and anything else he might’ve said died on his tongue. He turned to climb back to the helm. Max stuck his leg out and Dream’s foot caught on it. He pitched forward, hitting against the seat and the ledge awkwardly, unable to get his hands out in time to catch himself.

It hurt. Pain shot up from his wrist and his neck. Dream was barely aware that Quackity had gotten to his feet that someone – he thought it was Sapnap – had exclaimed ‘what the fuck’. His face was planted against the seat. A hand grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him down onto the deck. He rolled over in time to see Quackity above him but not in time to move before Quackity dropped on him, one knee digging into his stomach.

“I don’t know why you’re making this so fucking hard,” he said and dissolved into drunken giggles at his own joke. “We all know this is the first time someone’s actually wanted to fuck you.”

“I always kinda wanted to,” said Sapnap.

The words sounded wet, the sip of beer in his mouth barely swallowed before he spoke, and too casual. As if Dream wasn’t pinned beneath Quackity, as if they were still just joking around about blowjobs. If he listened to just the words, it could’ve been any one of their conversations from the past.

“You’ll get your turn, you’ll get your turn.”

Dream couldn’t draw in a breath to give a protest but he lifted his arms and tried to push Quackity off. His shoulder gave the protest that he couldn’t, a pinching pain that made him see white briefly. Annoyance flashed across Quackity’s face as he grappled with Dream.

“Fucking christ, someone hold him down,” Quackity said.

The request made Dream struggle harder; there was no passing it off on how drunk Quackity was. No one said anything for a moment and Dream thought surely someone would tell Quackity no, that this was going too far. His chest was burning as he drew in small breaths, trying to push Quackity’s knee off his stomach. Then Bubs was out of his seat, chugging down the rest of his beer before tossing the bottle off the side of the boat, and kneeling down and grabbing Dream’s arms. Quackity moved his knee and Dream was finally able to pull air into his lungs.

“GET OFF ME.”

The scream made his throat hurt and he twisted and pulled, trying to free himself. It felt useless. Someone had turned up the music and he heard the sound of the cooler lid open and close. Quackity was pushing up his shirt. Panic hit Dream hard.

“No, no, stop. Quackity, you fucking—Stop!”

Above him, Quackity was grinning. He shoved Dream’s shirt up until it was bunched uncomfortably around his neck and armpits, exposing his binder. His fingers were already trying to push under the elastic edge.

"What? He’s trans?”

The voice either belonged to Max or Jancy and Dream couldn’t tell which. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears was too loud.

“Yeah, no shit,” said Karl. Someone opened another beer with a hiss. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t fucking know,” Max-or-Jancy said.

Dream was still twisting, still trying to pull his arms free, but he squeezed his eyes shut. Listening to them talk about him was almost worse than the way Quackity’s hands had found their way under his binder. He hadn’t wanted to know how they saw him. He sucked air in through his teeth.

“Stop, Quackity, please fucking stop,” he begged.

Quackity’s fingers pinched at his nipples roughly before he pushed Dream’s binder up in the same way he had the shirt. It was tight and slipped down a little, cutting an indentation into one of his breasts. Dream couldn’t open his eyes: if he did, the tears would spill out and they wouldn’t stop. His shoes squeaked against the deck as he tried to find purchase and push Quackity off, lifting his hips. Quackity laughed, moving his hands from Dream’s breasts to his waist.

“I know you’re excited, Dream, I know, but have some patience, okay.”

The boat rocked and one of the empty beer bottles rolled, stopping against Dream’s arm. Bubs had a tight grip on him, holding his arms down above his head. Dream finally opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. It was bright blue, dotted with clouds. The perfect weather for a day on the lake. Quackity was undoing his pants and tugging them down around his knees. He tried to kick again then twisted to the side but Quackity held him down, shoving his knees between Dream’s legs, forcing Dream to spread them a little.

“Stop, stop, stop! Sapnap! Please! Please tell him to stop, I’m—I’m begging.” There were tears on Dream’s face now as he turned his head trying to look at his friend. Sapnap had one leg bent up on the seat, a beer in his hand. The expression on his face was impossible to read. Quackity’s hands were on his thighs and moving up. “Please, you got to tell him to stop.”

Sapnap shrugged.

“Shit, I’m not getting involved,” he said.

A sob was pulled from Dream, chest heaving.

“Yeah.” Quackity slipped his fingers into the waistband of Dream’s boxers. “Yeah, this is just between us, Dream.”

The boxers slid down, snagging around Dream’s ass before Quackity gave them a hard tug. The desire to kick and get away was replaced by the desire to squeeze his legs shut. Dream’s pleas were an incoherent string of ‘no’s and ‘stop’s and ‘don’t’s that the music drowned out. Quackity pulled down his swim shorts just enough to expose his erect cock. He put one hand between Dream’s legs, pushing and prodding until two of his fingers found his slit. They pressed into him and Dream half screamed, half sobbed.

“Fucking relax. Relax,” said Quackity and his tone was oddly pleasant. He was grinning as he pumped his fingers in and out of Dream. “That’s it. Yeah, that’s it. I knew you wanted it.”

Quackity rocked his hips back and forth with a moan. His cock rubbed against Dream’s thigh and Dream tried to turn his body away.

“I-I don’t. I don’t,” he said. His nose was running. He hadn’t realized he was crying so hard.

Fucking embarrassing, he thought.

Leaning over Dream, Quackity thrust his fingers into him quicker as he kept moving his hips. The tip of his cock pressed into Dream’s inner thigh.

“C’mon, I know you want it.” Quackity shoved his fingers in as deep as he could, causing Dream to jerk slightly. “Be honest.”

The sound that came out of Dream was more like a quivering laugh than anything else. His skin was sticking to the surface of the deck. He looked at the logo on Quackity’s beanie. It was blurry because of the tears.

“A-actually, I really don’t want your tiny dick,” said Dream.

The pleased look on Quackity’s face vanished immediately and he pulled his fingers out of Dream then brought his hand down onto his cheek. The slap knocked Dream’s head to the side and made his ears ring. Dream tried once more to close his legs but Quackity put his hand on his thigh and pressed down with his full weight.

“Ha, that’s funny,” Quackity said as he adjusted himself. “Real fucking funny.”

It wasn’t funny. Dream thought nothing about this situation was and why he had made the joke in the first place was beyond him but someone laughed. It made Dream’s chest hurt more than the pain in his leg as Quackity leaned on him or in his arms as Bubs held them down awkwardly.

“It is kinda funny,” said Karl.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Something in Dream broke. If he wasn’t laying on the deck of his boat with his clothes half-off and Quackity lining his dick up between his legs, he could have pretended this was normal. The song that was playing was one Dream remembered coming on as they drove up. His limbs felt heavy enough to sink the boat. Quackity pressed the tip of his cock against Dream’s cunt.

“Quackity, please…”

His voice sounded small and weak and Dream hated it. He shuddered.

“Shh, I know you’re eager but—”

Above him, Quackity’s face was flushed. He put one hand on the deck, arm brushing against Dream’s side, then he thrust forward. It hurt and Dream tried to push himself away but he was trapped between the deck and Quackity. The thrusts where rough and awkward at first as Quackity found his rhythm. He leaned down, mouth on Dream’s neck. Dream turned his head, trying not to look at any of the others, and stared at the red cooler shoved in the corner. The beer he had spilled earlier had begun to dry. Quackity moaned, fucking into him, free hand groping his chest. Each thrust made a flash of pain shoot through Dream, from his tailbone and up his back.

I hope he finishes quick, thought Dream. He seemed like the type and that almost made Dream laugh. It came out more like a cry.

“Ah, fuck.”

Quackity moaned and straightened, putting his hands under Dream’s thighs and lifting them slightly. The pace of his thrusting quickened and Dream tried to think about anything other than the wet sounding slaps of skin on skin that sounded a little too like the waves against the boat. A hand reached down to open the cooler and pull out another beer and Dream thought his chest was going to burst with shame and rage.

“Fuck,” panted Quackity. His fingernails dug into Dream’s skin, pulling Dream flush to him as he pounded into him. “Fuck, this is better than I thought.”

The motion of the thrusts made the alcohol in Dream’s stomach roll and he thought he was going to be sick. He was barely aware that Bubs had taken one hand away from his wrists until he felt that hand on his breast, pinching and kneading. Dream twisted one arm free and slammed the side of his fist into Bubs face twice before the other swore and grabbed his wrist once more. During the struggle, Quackity hadn’t stopped, his hips snapping forward hard and fast as he moaned. Only when Dream was pinned back to the deck, did he stutter to a halt, pressing into Dream as deep as he could as he came.

“God damn,” he breathed as he pulled out, finally letting go of Dream’s legs.

The moment he let go, Dream tried to kick at him, legs tangling in his half-down pants. It only resulted in eliciting a laugh from Quackity as Dream turned on his side and squeezed his legs shut. It was wet and throbbing between his thighs. He wanted a shower. He wanted to choke the life out of Quackity. The spot on the deck he had pressed the side of his face to was cool and sticky. He reached down to pull his pants up but Quackity slapped his hand away.

“Ah ah. Other people are waiting for their turn.”

That thought had been flitting around in the back of Dream’s head but as an abstract. It was suddenly, terrifyingly real. He tried to sit up, thinking that if he could throw himself overboard, he would have a chance to get away, when Bubs was grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back down.

“NO! No! You—You can’t do this! Get the fuck off me! PLEASE.”

The back of his head cracked against the deck as Bubs climbed on top of him, hands moving across his chest. He was awkwardly grinding his hips against Dream’s side with a moan. Dream almost gagged from the smell of beer coming off his breath. He managed to get one hand out from under himself, his fingers splayed out on the deck.

“Okay, okay, just—Just stop,” said Dream. Desperation was making his voice thick and for the first time, he glanced up at the others. Jancy was drinking and Max had his hand superstitiously on his crotch. Karl had his phone in one hand and his beer in the other, showing something to Sapnap. “Sapnap. Sapnap, come on. I—I thought you said you wanted to fuck me. I don’t—I don’t want to fuck this loser.”

The words all sounded like things he would say but Dream wasn’t sure they were actually coming out of his mouth. He could barely feel Bubs’ hands on him, on his stomach, and trying to push their way down between his legs. Sapnap looked up. His eyes were glassy.

“Yeah?” The grin on Sapnap’s face was crooked. The single word sounded slurred. He shifted in his seat, tapping Karl on the shoulder to get him to sit up. “I’m down, let’s fucking go.”

Bubs had stopped his groping, hot hand cupping against Dream’s cunt. His other hand loosened its grip and Dream shoved him back, pulling himself away. His boxers and pants were still tangled around his lower legs and as much as all he wanted to do was pull them up, Dream found himself kicking them off. His thighs were covered with red marks. When he stood, he thought he was going to fall. His head was swimming and he glanced towards the water. If he jumped, he would probably drown and he had drowned once. Before he could make that choice, Sapnap grabbed his hand and tugged Dream towards him.

“I—I just want to fuck you, okay? No one else,” said Dream as Sapnap grabbed his hips and pulled him down onto his lap. His shorts were still a little damp from swimming and it felt cold against Dream’s bare thighs. “That’s—That’s the deal.”

Sapnap ran his hands up Dream’s side and cupped his breasts.

“Sure, sure. Maybe you can give Karl a blowjob.”

Dipping his head down, Sapnap mouthed at his nipple. Whatever objection he was going to give to Sapnap’s addendum to their deal was stopped dead when Sapnap’s teeth brushed against his skin. Dream shivered, looking out over his shoulder at the shore.

“Holy—You’ve got nice tits, for a dude.”

It was such a Sapnap thing to say that Dream almost forgot that Quackity had just held him down and fucked him, almost forgot he was in Sapnap’s lap out of desperation. There was a murmur of agreement from someone and Dream’s cheeks went hot. Sapnap began undoing his shorts with one hand, the other still on Dream’s breast. It took him a minute free his half-hard cock. Spitting in his palm, he began stroking it, rolling Dream’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger. To Dream, it felt like forever before he was hard, the alcohol slowing the process. His right tit was sore by time Sapnap finally was lifting him up and pulling him down onto his cock.

The moan that Sapnap let out masked the quiet, pained gasp from Dream. He tried to focus on a point in the distance, the green metal roof of the cabin that was just barely visible, as Sapnap gripped his hips hard and thrust upward. Out of the corner of his eye, Dream could see Karl watching, his phone still in his hand. The dizzy feeling came back, worse than before, and Dream grabbed onto Sapnap’s shoulders to keep from pitching over. Over and over, Sapnap forced Dream up and down on his cock. His knees felt like they were being rubbed raw by faux leather as he kneeled. He wondered if the waterproof canvas option would’ve better. Sapnap reached a hand up and tangled it in Dream’s hair, catching on his ponytail.

“Fuck, fuck, oh…” He pulled Dream down, hard, by his hair, forcing Dream’s head back. The sky was still bright blue, broken up by a few large white clouds. “Oh, I’m gonna cum, fuck, Dream.”

Sapnap’s words were muffled against Dream’s shoulder. He felt Sapnap’s hips stutter as his friend let out a loud, satisfied moan. Dream’s hands were shaking as he began tugging his binder and shirt back down. No one stopped him and he let out a gasp that wanted badly to be a sob. His legs were shaking worse than his hands as he stood up. He felt something warm and wet drip down the inside of his thigh and did everything to ignore it. The rest of his clothing had been kicked aside, landing in the beer he had spilled earlier.

“What about Karl’s blowjob?” asked Sapnap, wiping his hand off on the seat next to him before tucking himself back into his shorts.

Karl looked up at Dream with a grin.

“Yeah, what about my blowjob?”

The question didn’t feel serious; it was said with a loud, drunken laugh but Karl was grabbing at his crotch and spreading his legs. Dream wanted to scream at him. To scream nothing about this was funny, that he hated all of them. He was angry that didn’t quite feel like the truth. His face scrunched up as tears threatened to spill out once more.

“Wait, why the fuck does he get a blowjob?” Max asked, annoyed.

Dream wanted to turn and grab his pants but that meant facing Quackity and Max and the others. He couldn’t. He rubbed a hand across his face.

“Whatever, I said I was—I was just fucking Sapnap and Karl,” he said, stumbling over the words, hating himself for agreeing but afraid of what might happen if he didn’t. This was better Dream told himself. Once they sobered up and he wasn’t trapped on this boat, he could pummel them all and tell them to fuck off. “That was the deal.”

Setting his phone to side, Karl began pulling his shorts down. Dream’s foot slipped on something and he almost fell but dropped to his knees in front of Karl. There was no groping or preamble; Karl tangled his fingers in Dream’s hair and shoved his head down. He choked around Karl’s cock, fingers scrambling on the edge of the seat, until Karl’s grip loosened. All Dream could taste was salt and beer and bile. He could barely breathe but he moved his head up and down, sucking on Karl’s cock, trying to focus on the music in the background and not the moaning. His knees were still hurting. Kneeling on the deck was worse than the seat. The song ended and another started. Karl bucked his hips, fingers twisting in Dream’s hair hard enough to pull some strands out.

“Ah, fuck yeah.”

It felt like it would last forever, that Dream might eventually run out of air on his knees like this, when Karl’s hips bucked again and he forced Dream’s head all the way down and held it there as he came in Dream’s mouth. The moment he let go, Dream pushed himself away, more strands of his hair catching on Karl’s fingers. His palms hit the deck as he sputtered and spit, part cum and part spit. He knelt there, head down, chest heaving. He drew in a breath and when he exhaled, a scream came out instead.

“What the fuck, man,” said Sapnap, stopping in the middle of opening the cooler.

Dream sat up, the heels of his sneakers digging into his bare ass. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his mouth and chin.

“We’re—We’re going back and—and fuck all of you,” he said.

Sapnap let the cooler lid fall shut.

“God, alright.”

Finally, Dream turned to grab his pants and boxers. His fingers had just closed around the material when Quackity stepped on his wrist. He cried out, the pain surprising him despite everything.

“Actually, Dream, it’s more like fuck you.” Quackity ground his heel down onto Dream’s wrist. “And you’re not being a very good host, leaving people out, are you? Are you?”

Dream tried pull his hand away. It hurt and he could imagine that he heard the bones cracking.

“Dude, he said he didn’t want to fuck them,” Sapnap said.

“So?” Quackity grabbed Dream by the back of the shirt. “So fucking what? When does he ever give a shit about what we want, huh? I say it’s time he gets what’s coming to him.”

No one said anything. Dream struggled to break free, trying to turn to look at Sapnap. All the things he wanted to say were only coming out as a panicked ‘no’ over and over. The treads of Quackity’s shoe were scrapping his wrist raw.

“Whatever,” said Karl. “I’m getting more chips.”

Any hope Dream had died. He felt another set of hands on him, nails scratching against his back as the person began tugging his shirt and binder up and over his head. Quackity finally lifted his foot and Dream tried to lurch to his feet but Quackity shoved him down. He hit the other section of seats, where he had been sitting when this all started, with his chin. His teeth clacked together, catching his tongue again and this time his mouth filled with blood. Quackity pressed his head into the seat and held him there.

“STOP! I said stop!” Blood sprayed across the white faux leather seat as Dream screamed. He could feel someone behind him. “HELP! FUCKING HELP ME!”

Quackity slapped his face.

“Shut the fuck up, Dream, god. You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?”

It wasn’t the first time Quackity had said something like that to him. It was the first time there was only anger and not a hint of laughter. Dream felt his own anger burn away suddenly, leaving behind only fear. He could feel hands on his ass and someone using their foot to spread his legs. Closing his eyes, Dream tried to pretend this wasn’t happening. That some person wasn’t rubbing the tip of their cock against his ass, that they weren’t shoving into him hard.

I don’t even know who’s fucking me, he thought.

He could feel hot breath on his neck and fabric against his back as the person – Max or Jancy or Bubs – leaned over him and fucked him. Each thrust made little white bursts of light appear on the inside of his eyelids and Dream clenched his jaw. The music was loud but in the distance he could hear birds, a seagull that had found itself faraway from the ocean. Dream strained to listen past that, hoping for the sound of another boat cutting across the water, but there was nothing. It was a quiet, perfect day for a party on the lake where no one would bother them.

No one would be coming to help him.

Quackity let go of Dream’s head but all the fight had gone out of him. He held onto the seating, digging his nails in and not caring that he was damaging the material as the thrusts became harder. The thought of cleaning up the boat afterwards had left him. Dream was going to sell it or sink it and forget everything. He would forget the way each thrust had pushed him forward until his head was wedged uncomfortably against the back of the seat and his hips were hitting the edge painfully. His mouth was dry and the sound of someone else opening another beer made him thirsty.

I don’t even like beer, came the thought and he opened his eyes.

The sun was lower in the sky. He could see Jancy standing by the cooler, could see Quackity and Bubs on the seats, watching. There was no comfort in knowing that it was Max behind him, thrusting wildly and moaning. Dream had thought there would be. Max slammed his hips into Dream and held there for a second before pulling out. Every inch of Dream was aching and he wanted to push himself up and get away even if that meant water slowly filling his lungs like it had when he was seven. But he couldn’t move. His limbs felt heavy and his skin was sticking to the fake leather.

“My turn,” said Bubs and then there were hands pulling Dream up. His legs wouldn’t stay beneath him and he fell back against the seat. Bubs rolled him onto his back. The seating was wide – Dream had picked this model for that reason – but his one leg still hung over the edge. An empty chip bag crinkled beneath the sole of his shoe as Bubs climbed on top of him and shoved his other leg up over the back of the seat. It stayed there, making his calf cramp, as Bubs pulled his swim trunks down. He was barely hard and Dream stared up at the sky as he stroked himself, muttering under his breath. “Come on, man.”

“You can’t get it up? That’s fucking hilarious,” Quackity said, laughing, one leg stretched out.

Some part of Dream agreed. It was funny and if he hadn’t been the one beneath Bubs, he might have laughed, too.

“Fuck off, Q.”

The laughter grew louder and Dream shivered. The sun was shinning down on him but he felt cold. Above him, Bubs grunted, finally hard, and pressed into him. He leaned over as he began to move and for a brief, horrible second, Dream looked him in the eyes. There was nothing but glassy-eyed drunk lust. He was grinning and his breath reeked of cheap beer. Dream let his gaze slip away to the cloud that was slowly making its way across the sky. He lay there, body rocking with each thrust, trying to pretend it was the waves rocking the boat, and watched the clouds.

“We’re out of beer,” said Max, kicking the cooler, the melted ice sloshing around inside, before dropping heavily down onto the seat.

The sun was now hanging in the sky, right above the tree line. Dream’s head was turned to side as he lay on his stomach. The deck was covered in an awful mixture of spilt beer and cum and it clung to Dream’s skin. Drool had leaked from the corner of his mouth and was dry and flaky by the time Jancy climbed off of him. One of his arms had been twisted awkwardly and it was limp by his side, palm up. That had been an accident – them trying to maneuver his body into a different position – and when he had cried out, they had left him on the deck for Jancy to finish with. The pain in his shoulder was still there, throbbing, and Dream waited.

“Fucking shit, yeah?” Quackity leaned over and flipped the lid open. He gave a giggle as he craned his head to peer inside. “I am wasted.”

No one else was touching him. In his head, Dream counted to ten and began moving his good arm, the one that was extended above him. His heart began pounding. The hope that this all might finally be over was tenuous but it was there.  

“Bro…. Can we fucking go back now?” asked Sapnap. The tone of his voice was whiny, half-drunk. “I want to be on land, bro, I need to take a shit.”

Karl snorted.

“Again?”

“It was the sweet chili Doritos, man, they fucked my stomach all up,” he said.

Dream’s hand slipped slightly on something wet and the pain flashed as he caught himself. He held his breath, afraid to look around, afraid to catch one of his friends’ eye. They seemingly had all forgotten about him and if he looked at them, that might change. He sat up and scanned the deck for his clothes. His pants were still crammed into the corner but his shirt and binder were nowhere in sight. Taking a shaky breath, he reached out and grabbed his pants. His phone was in the pocket.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Quackity’s voice was humorless and cold and sharp. Without thinking, Dream looked over at him. He pulled his pants to him, trying to use the crumbled fabric to cover himself, even just a little. The look on Quackity’s face was harder to read than his tone. A smile was present but it didn’t reach his eyes.

It’s the alcohol, Dream thought and didn’t fully believe it.

“I’m getting dressed, Quackity,” he said, unable to keep his voice steady. The anger that he had pushed down, just trying to get through this, was creeping back. “Sapnap wants to go back.”

All eyes were on him now. Dream wanted to pull his pants on but everything hurt and his sneakers were still on and the thought of struggling with his clothing in full view of the others made him nauseous. He kept his pants pressed to his chest.

“Yeah, I want to go back.” Sapnap threw his head back. “Come on, man.”

Leaning forward, Quackity grabbed one leg of the pants and pulled them out of Dream’s grasp. The motion tugged Dream’s bad arm forward and he winced.

“Go back? Yeah, and what are we going to do about him? What do you think he’s going to tell people?”

The look on Sapnap’s face was one of confusion, throwing his hands up like he didn’t understand what Quackity was getting at. It felt genuine and Dream let out a quiet huff of laughter at the realization.

“I’m—I’m not going to say anything. I’m not going to—to tell anyone,” said Dream. “W-who would I even tell?”

The line of questioning had made Karl sit up and something like discomfort was on his face. He looked between Sapnap and Quackity. The music was still playing, cycling back through the playlist. Dream held his bad arm to his chest. No one said anything. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. There were extra clothes in the cabin. The door locked. He would have to climb over the seat and around but he could do it. Quackity snapped his attention back to Dream.

“You’re not going anywhere until we have a little talk, Dream.”

Quackity was on his feet, grabbing at Dream’s arm. It threw him off-balance and he stumbled back, the only thing keeping him from falling being the hold Quackity had on him.

“Just let me go! I’m—”

Dream didn’t know what he was doing. He just wanted to get to the cabin and lock the door and put clothes on that weren’t dirty and stained. The tears and the anger were bubbling over. The inside of his thighs felt hot and sticky and it was making him sick, no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. His other arm still hurt but he raised it, the pain blinding, and punched Quackity in the face. It was a weak punch but Quackity let go of him and Dream lurched towards the helm and the cabin. Someone grabbed him from behind, wrapping their arms around him and lifting him off the ground. The anger took a sharp turn into panic.

“NO! FUCKING LET GO!”

The only thought that Dream had was that he couldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t. If it did, all he would want to do is die and that was the one thing he couldn’t do. Dream twisted and kicked and dug his nails into the arms of the person holding him. Suddenly, they did let go and Dream fell to the side, unable to catch himself. Pain, more intense than anything he had felt up until this point, shot through his head and the last thing that went through his mind before it all went black was: I thought this was going to be a good weekend.

“Shit.”

“Is he fucking dead?”

Blood was slowly dripping down the back of the seat and onto the side of the boat. It had formed a small pool on the gunwale around the metal cleat. Dream’s eyes were open and his mouth was slack. His naked body was slumped on the seat. His hair was bloody and sticking to his neck, having come lose from the ponytail. Occasionally, his head would tilt with the motion of the rocking boat.

“Yeah,” said Quackity, pulling his hand over his mouth. “Yeah, he’s fucking dead. Shit!”

Sapnap stepped forward, unsteadily, and bumped against Quackity.

“Bro.” The breath Sapnap gave was shaky and he put a hand on Quackity’s shoulder for a second to catch his balance. “What the hell are we going to do?”

The wind picked up, making swells of the waves higher and the boat rock more. Dream’s head lolled to the side and blood began dripping down his shoulder and arm. His body leaned slightly more to the left, eyes still open and unseeing.

“Dump him.” Turning, Quackity looked at each one of the others, judging their reactions. Sapnap and Karl seemed the most upset. “Look, they’ll assume we had something to do with it, that it wasn’t an accident. They’ll blame all of us, okay? All of us. Kiss fucking scholarships and your jobs goodbye. No, we dump him in the lake. No one comes out to this shitty ass lake anyway.”

The expression on Sapnap’s face was familiar to Quackity. He was conflicted, wanted to argue, but after a moment he shook his head.

“Yeah, alright,” he said.

The sun was getting lower in the sky. It would be sunset soon and they would lose the light. None of them knew how to drive the boat. Quackity looked around once more.

“Okay, we need a rope and something heavy. Let’s get rid of this fucker.”