Church boy

Part 16

I ignore my mom, stepping away from the conversation to try and sneak around to the back of the church. It's hard, and I get called back to my parents at least 3 times before Caleb takes their attention and gives me enough time to slip away.

George is pushed up against one of the walls. He's picking at the skin on his thumb and as soon as his eyes land on me he stops, hands dropping to his side with a sigh of relief. He smiles, eyes red and bruised from the lack of sleep. I don't smile back.

"Why have you been acting so weird?" I ask, my tone sharp and words straight to the point. George cringes, back pressing further into the wall. "I-" He looks down, the words dying out on his tongue. I watch his eyes start to water as a bittersweet smile stretches across his face.

"I can't do it, Clay." He whispers. His voice breaks and I almost cry just at the sight and sound of him. "I'm sorry, so fucking sorry." He continues. "I just can't do it." He wipes his eyes dry, wiping the dampened hands onto his sweats. "Do what?" I ask, as if it isn't obvious.

"This." He puts his hands out. "I can't do us." His hands slap against his thighs, gripping and pinching at the fabric stuck loosely to his legs. I'd probably make a joke about the grey sweats if we weren't being so serious.

George clears his throat. "My parents are constantly at my throat. It's like I can't even breathe without them checking the air first!" He stretches an arm towards the car park. "I can't disappoint them, Dream, not again. I'd end up locked in some shitty straight camp." A tear falls off his cheek and I frown, my legs stepping forward and my arms wrapping around his torso. He sniffles, tears instantly soaking the shoulder of my t-shirt.

"Being gay isn't wrong, George." I whisper. The words make him freeze, arms tightening around my waist. He tucks his head further into my shirt, hiding his face and tears from the world around us. "Being gay is probably the worst thing to have happened to me." I laugh, looking down at his tangled curls of hair. My gaze softens.

"But then it became the best, and I don't know if that's just because I'm weird, or something, but I can promise you, George." I push his body off of mine. My hands softly massaging his shoulders as more tears slowly stain his face. "You are normal." His lip quivers and he dives back into my chest.

"We're normal. Sapnap is normal. I'm normal. You, George, are one of the most normal people I've ever met." We fall silent for a while and I can't stop the next set of words bubbling out of my throat. "Apart from your obsession with me in my boxers." I joke, a shy smirk covering my face. George laughs into my chest, head lifting slightly to push me away jokingly.

"I'm not obsessed." I roll my eyes, humming a non-believing 'mhm' at the older. George smiles, his eyes creasing at the gesture. I sit against a wall, deciding to stay out here for the rest of the hour or so. "Seriously though, George. There is nothing wrong with being gay. It took me a while to realise it too but trust me, as soon as you do realise it, it'll be the best thing you've ever done." He looks down, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Could we maybe take things slow?" George asks, breaking the tense silence. His eyes watch his feet and how they tap against the pebbled floor. "Is that what you want?" I ask. George pauses before nodding. "And to uh- keep it on the low, you know?" He asks. I smile before nodding. "Of course. We can keep this as secret, and slow, as you like. We'll go at your pace, okay?" I ask.

"Thank you." George mumbles, hands grabbing his knees. "You don't have to thank me, twig arms." I grin at Sapnap's stupid nickname for the boy and George scoffs. "Alright-" He pauses, eyes scanning my body before he pauses on my thighs. "I don't know one." He huffs, eyes meeting mine. He tries to brush over his blushed cheeks but of course, I'm me and decide to tease the boy on it.

"Come on, Georgie. What were you going to say?" I sing, playfully moving closer to the brunette. He softly steps on my fingers and then grins. "Nothing, Dreamy." Oh wow. I pull my hand out from under his shoe and flick the material, causing no damage whatsoever except for a slight sting on the tip of my nail.

"Dumbass." George scoffs, watching me suck on the stinging finger. He reaches over and grabs my hand, placing a soft kiss on the now spit covered finger. "That was disgusting." I scoff. I'd never kiss George's spit covered finger. Even for me that's too far. George rolls his eyes, letting go of my hand. "It's nothing I've not had in my mouth before." He winks and I just stare at him with raised brows and a look to say 'oh?'. He laughs, head tilting back and Adam's apple bobbing as he slaps his knee.

"What is that face?" He gasps between laughs. My mouth drops open in fake offence and I cup my own jaw. "What's wrong with my face?" I pout, sticking my lips out with fake puppy eyes. "You look stupid." George chuckles, clearly amused with himself. I huff, looking away from him. I dropped my hands into my lap before deciding that wasn't good enough and folded them over my chest.

"I guess I'll have to find someone else to appreciate my beauty." I mumbled, the words coming out as almost inaudible whispers. George laughs again, complaining about his stomach cramping from laughing too hard.

"Good!" I yell. "You deserve it for bullying me." He flips me off, the other arm wrapped tightly around his stomach.

"Oh, God." George gasps, his laugh dying out into short giggles. "I'm in pain." He looks at me and I just stare blankly back. "What?" I ask, shifting under his stare. He rolls his eyes dramatically. "I said." He huffs. "I'm in pain." He crosses his arms and I sniffle. "Okay?" I ask, dragging out the word. "I'm no simp, thank you very much."

"Wow." George scoffs. "Just when I started to think you actually like me." He sniffles in fake hurt and I scoff, rolling my eyes at his terrible acting. "Was my tongue down your throat not a good enough confession?" I ask. "No, it never will be." He grins knowingly at me. Where is this going?

"What will be enough?" I ask. Do I want to know? George pauses, stifles a laugh to himself and then clears his throat, sitting up straight. "Your tongue." He pauses and stifles another laugh. "But somewhere else." Okay.

Okay.

"So much for taking it slow." I scoff. George throws a tiny twig at me. "We are! I'm just very, you know?" Very what? I squint at the boy. "No, I don't know." I answer. He rolls his eyes and mumbles something as if I'm the one being stupid. "I'm a very talkative guy." He settles on, the words even sounding stupid to himself with the way he breaks out into a laugh.

I chuckle to myself, shaking my head at the idiot. "Whatever, George." I mumbled. "You do you."

WC: 1257