The Lucky Switch {Gream/DreamNotFound}

A Leap of Faith (11)

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Bright light pierced through the curtains bordering the open window. "George, wake up." A quiet voice sounded.

     George groaned and pulled his blanket tighter around him, trying to ignore whatever was poking his shoulder. The warmth radiating from his bed coaxed him back into sleep.

"Come on, we have to get up." The persistent voice mumbled again.

He blearily blinked his eyes open, squinting at the harsh glare. George tried to sit up but a heavy weight resting on his sides held him down. Confusion flooded his tired mind before he registered he was still wrapped in Clay's arms from the night before.

     With a start he sprung as far away from him as possible. He coughed awkwardly, hovering on the edge of his bed, suddenly feeling completely awake. "Sorry."

     Clay rolled over onto his back and stretched out his arms. "You really do hate waking up," He chuckled lightly. "I'd let you sleep longer but we have to be at the wedding by two thirty."

The wedding. Memories from the rehearsal dinner flooded his head. They were memories he never wanted to relive. George sat up straighter, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn't shake the guilty feeling coiling tightly in his gut.

Embarrassment also nagged at him. George longingly wished he could have a do over of the past twenty four hours but he knew it was useless. His past and problems were hung out like dirty laundry for Clay to see and there was nothing George could do about it.

He wasn't just embarrassed, he was mortified. It was one thing to be comforted by a friend but entirely different to fall asleep and wake up held in their arms. Even as George stumbled into the kitchen he couldn't deny the fact that he missed the feeling of comfort.

The two boys had lapsed into an awkward silence. George shook his head in an attempt to curb his racing thoughts as he popped a slice of bread into the toaster.

"Are you seriously making toast?"

He jolted at the sudden voice. "What? It's breakfast."

"Yeah, but isn't it technically lunch time? It's past one thirty."

He bit his lip in an attempt to suppress a grin. Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window framing Clay's face in a halo of light. George's heart leapt in his chest as he watched him laugh, the smile he was trying to contain breaking across his face. "Whatever, it doesn't matter." He shoved his thoughts down and turned around.

Unanswered questions still circled through his head. Why did I ask Clay to stay in my room? Did I make things weird? A light flick on the side of his head pulled George out of his trance.

"The toast is gonna burn, idiot." Clay teased. Even though his tone was joking concern was still evident in his eyes. He brushed past George to grab the slices of bread. "And you were worried that I was going to light the room on fire."

George's arms tingled where Clay's hands had grazed them. "Yeah, that's because you're stupid," He giggled. "Knowing you, you'd forget to shut the stove off or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, George."

They both sat down at the round table to eat, George's thoughts still muddled together. He tried to blame his foggy state on just waking up. "Hey," He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry if last night made you a little uncomfortable. I've never..." George broke off, his voice catching in his throat.

Clay nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Yeah?"

With a heavy sigh, he tried again. "I've never told anyone else about my Dad before. To be honest, I didn't think I ever would."