Stay Inside (by my Side) : Gream/DreamNotFound

17. The Peak

[a/n: sorry this took a while to come out, I graduated a couple days ago :')
as compensation, here's 3K words of fluff!!
also since we're almost to the end, I'm exploring options with starting another Gream fic if y'all would be interested]

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"Do you know what's going on?" George mumbled.

"No clue."

"Who's that girl?"

"I don't know."

"What are they talking about?"

"George, I'm literally watching with you and I know just as little as you do," Clay laughed, rubbing his eyes.

George gave a slow hum and breathed out.

It was difficult to pay attention to whatever movie was playing on the TV. Clay and George had caught it almost directly halfway through its runtime, so trying to understand the plot was impossible. The buzz in both their veins should have kept them somewhat focused, but night had settled and they felt like falling asleep then and there.

Sometime near the end of the second act, Clay blearily looked over at George and found him silently dozing off, his head lolled to the side and his chest rising evenly. Clay watched for a while, mesmerized by how serene he looked in the hazy light that filtered off the TV screen. Despite already sitting less than a foot apart, Clay carefully scooted closer to George and relaxed when their legs touched. George just sighed in his sleep.

Clay could feel George's warm breath on his shoulder, traveling through the material of his shirt and onto his skin. The feeling mixed with his intoxication, and he leaned his head back against the couch. He felt his eyes grow closed, twitching slightly. Before his brain screamed for him to turn in for the night, Clay clicked off the TV and plunged the room into darkness. Now, George's breathing could be heard clearer, floating right beside Clay's ear.
Within seconds, the world faded away and he collapsed into sweet slumber.

It was short lived, as a shock brought Clay out of his sleep and he jerked up, panting. His eyes were wide, frantically adjusting to the dark. Upon realizing where he was, he calmed down and sank back into the cushions before glancing at George to see if he disturbed him. George had switched positions, now facing Clay and leaning on his arms which were folded over the back of the sofa. His legs were tucked in under him, hovering just over Clay's lap.

"What's wrong?" George slurred inaudibly.

"Sorry... did I wake you up?"

"Are you okay?" George answered the question with his own, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah," Clay sighed, "just a nightmare."

"What happened?" George mumbled.

"It's nothing, it happens all the time."

"Tell me about it, you'll feel better."

Clay stayed silent for a while, not knowing where to begin. He glanced at George, their noses inches apart.

"It's just this deep feeling of loss and sorrow..." Clay whispered, hanging onto the gut feeling of his recent fright.

George's breathing evened out yet again, and Clay realized he had already fallen back asleep. Despite that, Clay continued, more for himself than for George.

"Usually I know who it is," he said quietly, gazing at the ceiling, "it's someone I care about- someone I love- and they're hurt or gone... and I don't know what it's like to experience a death in real life, but if it's anything like those dreams..."