You're Known //DNF\\

Alone again?

((TW: Sexual Assault + Fluff <3 be safe!))
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Why they were in here, was soon answered when the guy pushed George against the bathroom door upon closing it. George become instantly uncomfortable, quickly trying to find ways to get out of this situation and back into Clay's protective arms.

George shoved the guy away by the shoulders. That didn't work as the guy shoved back, harder and leaned his body up against George. Then the guy whispered something into his ear, "Don't you dare try and leave." George hated this person's voice; he recognized its evil and gross tone but from where? The warm breath of the guy's whisper made George squirm, he hated this, it didn't feel right at all.

The guy began to caress George's waist before pulling George away from the bathroom door and into the shower, where they would have more 'privacy'. George took this as a chance to get away, but being drunk didn't help. He stumbled over the rug and the guy pulled him back.

"Stop p-please." George asked, he didn't have the energy nor the will to yell or fight back and the guy knew this.

"Make me." The guy threatened, whispering along George's neck. George tried pull out of the hard and ruff grasp, ultimately failing. So, George gave up. He lost all faith and began to relax and let the guy do what he wanted.

A minute passes. One long, dreadful minute. Before the guy could do anything, he was interrupted from whatever terrible thing he would do next.

The guy must have forgotten about locking the bathroom door. A tall blonde boy, enters (well more like, barges into) the room, his eyebrows furrowed and his stance strong. This new person was Clay and he was not only confused but outraged also.

"Get your FUCKING hands off him!" Clay shouts so loud it could have shattered the mirror. The guy who still had his hands on the defeated drunk boy, rolled his eyes so hard that they could have popped out of his head. Clay approached the guy, his stance still strong, and pulled the guy off. "I said, get your fucking hands off George, Clarance. I don't even know what the hell you're doing. What I do know, is that because we aren't at school, I can easily beat your ass. So, either you can get your fucking horny hands-off George or you can get your face caved in. What do you pick?" Clay sneered, sarcastically dragging out certain vowels.

Clarance backed away from George, picking the better option, his hands up in the air in surrender. Once he got around Clay he quickly turned around and booked it out of the bathroom. Clay then turned to George.

The brunette was now on the ground, his knees to his chest and his face in his knees. He was crying, finally realizing what he just allowed to happen. Even if he was heavily drunk, he could still tell what was right from wrong but he just... let it happen. "I-I'm sorry Clay." He cried not even trying to look up. He looked so defeated, almost like the other night.

"George, it's fine. Your safe, let's just go home." Clay said, sympathy layering his voice as he helped George up. George felt weak and alone, he didn't know how to feel nor how to react. Clay held his hand as if he was a fragile piece of china, china that was over three-hundred-years-old. George followed behind Clay, his head down and he was still stumbling around. He felt like a toddler being pulled off to the side to be yelled at, though Clay would never yell at him, purposefully.

((Sexual Assault Trigger is over. Only fluff now!))

They soon arrived to the car and Clay began to drive. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was frustrated. His blood was boiling and his knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the steering wheel. George didn't know which house they were going to, but he also didn't care, his mind was bouncing from nothing to the past situation.