#i cant write angst and not with these boyz but yk

[dude1sh]

50 eldonado

50. Writer’s Choice

I decided to do number 20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” because I’m a slut :)

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Of course, Peter would be the type to fall asleep at a party because he was drunk. Absolute pussy. Like, why couldn’t he be like Ming, a complete skinny boi (yes, that ‘i’ was needed) who actually goes hard as fuck when drinking? Even though Peter is very far from being stick thin, he actually has some muscles underneath those stupid grey sweatshirts, but that’s beside the point.

Not that he thinks about Peter’s kind-of-barely-there muscles, like, that often.Okay, maybe he does think about it often, don’t remind him. 

He knows he shouldn’t get the obligatory crush on his possibly straight(?) best friend. But he a bit of a bisexual disaster, more so a general disaster but you get the point.

It happened like this. 

A couple of years ago, Sam and Peter were fresh out of middle school, puberty hitting the both of them hard, Both of their hormones were revved up to the max and Sam was kinda in a gay/bi crisis; A crisis that Peter motherfucking Maldonado caused.

It was around September, which September in California meant sunshine and high temperatures, so they both decided to hit the pool and cool off a bit, maybe have some fun for they had recently just learned that high school was stressful as fuck and nothing like middle school.

Going to the pool, was a bad idea. Because as soon as they dropped their bags on one of the chairs, Peter went to take off his shirt, ready to jump in. It practically happened in slow motion for Sam, something about Peter’s slightly lanky and awkward body seemed to do something for Sam, for his breath hitched and his heartbeat sped up.

Aka, the start of a gay crisis. Unlike Peter, he doesn’t have asthma, so he couldn’t blame the tightness in his chest on a medical condition.

Now, 3 years later, he’s got it pretty much figured out. He may or may not still have a stupid crush on his stupidly amazing best friend, and also still in denial about how intense his feelings are for the said friend, hence the use of the word “crush” and not “love”. Currently, they were at Randall Snyder’s end of the year party, finally back from shooting season 2 of American Vandal. It was all fun and games, literal drinking games as well, getting fucked up on 4lokos and Smirnoff raspberry vodka, people passing blunts and juuls. Sam was currently playing beer pong with the remainder of the Morning Show 9 crew, the ones who haven’t left for college. However, Sam didn’t know exactly where Peter was at the moment, and although he wanted to search for him, he really loved beer pong. He was also, very drunk.

Then, someone screams just the word “Cops!”, and All Hell Broke Loose. People start running towards the back door, rushing out of every exit they could find, but Sam; he was looking for Peter.

It doesn’t take long for him to find Peter, for he was the only one not moving.  Probably because he was fucking passed out. So, Sam drunkenly ran over to him, and taps him on the shoulder, trying to jostle him awake. It didn’t work. So, he practically bitch-slaps Peter, hard. Which made Peter groan but it was not enough to make him wake up, Like what the fuck.

“You need to wake up, I can’t do this without you!” Sam yells/slurs at him, he can’t just run from the cops and leave Peter here, his Peter, his homeboy, his dumb crush, Sam would never do that to him. So, like Jonah Hill in SuperBad, he threads his arms underneath Peter, and picks him up bridal style, and runs.  

Peter, however, is much heavier than he looks. Maybe he has such a big dick that it makes him weigh another 20 pounds, or something. So, Sam’s sprint is a bit straggled, but that could also be attributed to the fact that he is pretty fucking drunk, for Madison is really good at beer pong. He runs past the bushes, so incredibly grateful the gate was already open, and books it into the forest behind them. He runs and runs and runs until his muscles are aching and burning; until he can’t hold the both of them up anymore. They’re technically lost in the middle of a forest by the time he collapses on the ground, a couple sticks lowkey stabbing him, but he’s too drunk, tired and full of adrenaline to notice.

The force of the fall is enough to jolt Peter out of his drunken slumber, his popping his head up and slurring words that Sam can’t understand. He’s also genuinely surprised (and also very grateful) that they both didn’t vomit.

“Wha..t? Where’re we?” Peter asks, eyes drooped and his head moving around in panic.

“A forest, you… You didn’t wake up, and the cops were ‘ere and so I hadda get ‘ou.” Sam explains, his hands moving around vaguely.

“Woah… thanks, dude.” Peter says with extreme gratitude like Sam took a bullet for him, or something.

“No ‘roblem, anything for you dude,” Sam tells him, his words full of warmth and love and mushy feelings.

“Anything… for ‘e?” Peter asks, his voice quiet, it sounds like he’s asking for more, wondering exactly how much Sam would do for him. The actual answer scares Sam, because really, he would do anything for Peter.

“Yeah, bruh, I ‘uckin’ love you, ‘ou’re my bro,” Sam tells him, drunk enough to be genuine, but not drunk enough to 'no homo’ him by saying 'bro’. That’s what straight guys do, right?

“Bro,” Peter says, maybe to himself, or to Sam, and leans in, closing the distance between the two. Sam, is confused at first, not sure what to do because Peter just kissed him? And Peter was still very sloppily kissing him, even though Sam was frozen against his mouth. This is all he’s ever wanted, something he’s dreamed about more times than he’s willing to admit, and he’s frozen.

But Sam is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he gets over this weird internal crisis he’s having, kisses back.