Stay Inside (by my Side) : Gream/DreamNotFound

21. Blue Roads

There were no pillows separating Clay and George this time. The two lounged on the wide bed, having just finished recording and editing a set of videos for both of their channels. A sense of deja vu came over George when he looked over at Clay, realizing he was in the same position as he was the morning they woke up next to each other for the first and last time. The only difference now was that he didn't have to hide the admiration that was displayed on his face for all to see.

Clay just stuck his tongue out when he noticed George watching.

The shorter boy huffed and turned his attention to the cat on his chest. Patches purred loudly as her chin was scratched by George's delicate fingers.

"I bet Cat misses you," Clay mused, playing on his phone.

"I hope so," George pondered, "he's kind of an arsehole."

Clay wheezed.

They lay in comfortable silence for a little, enjoying the cool breeze that filtered through the open window. The blinds fluttered here and there, giving the occasional tap against the glass. To Clay, the sound was almost hypnotic, and he struggled to keep his eyes open and on his phone.

He hadn't had proper rest in over 24 hours, what with the film they watched days ago, plus the stress of George, and then the stuff that came after...

They talked for a long, long time. In fact, they talked about everything: what made them catch feelings for each other, what stopped them from admitting it, how many times a stupid miscommunication made them overthink, and how hard it was to push past their fears.

"Back at the store?" George had brought up, "You were so uncomfortable telling that lady we lived together!"

"I panicked! And you were the one that was uncomfortable," Clay had retorted, "you bolted away as soon as we entered!"

"I guess so... And then there was the whole 'I love you' thing that you stopped saying to me in videos. I legit thought I made things so awkward that you couldn't even joke about it anymore!"

"I stopped saying it because I didn't want to put you on the spot. It didn't feel right, especially since by that point I meant it in more than a friend way..."

"It was a shame. I was kind of looking forward to hearing you say it."

"Oh, now you wanted to hear it," Clay had wheezed.

After all that, they reminisced on all the beautiful moments they got to experience. Even if they didn't know how much they loved each other then, it didn't take away from the pure softness of it all.

Waking up next to each other and mutually wishing for every morning to be like that.

Putting on ungodly amounts of makeup and laughing when it didn't wash off.

Baking and making a mess.

Watching the sunset from a convertible.

Clay smiled, closing his eyes and replaying the past three months in his brain. He reached over and felt around the sheets until he found George's hand, which he laced into with his fingers.

"I have an idea," he cooed.

-

There were exactly two beers left in the fridge and George plucked them out, tossing them into a canvas bag. It was beginning to get heavy, carrying various sweets, a takeout order, and now a set of drinks. He scanned the kitchen, wondering if there was anything else he should bring.

His gaze landed on a slightly droopy bouquet of wildflowers. They had held up quite well despite being several weeks old and set up in a milk carton. George rearranged them quickly before leaving the kitchen.