Comfort (Dream X GeorgeNotFound)

Doubts

George blankly stared ahead, his gaze unyielding and cold. All traces of emotions had been wiped clear from his face, leaving him looking lifeless.

Clay did his best not to break eye contact, becoming increasingly more unsettled by the second. Finally, he decided to say something to fill the silence.

"George." He looked down from George to the counter he was sitting on. If a moment ago he had been trying to keep his eyes on the man in front of him, now he was doing everything in his power to avert his glance from the icy stare.

A quiet hum as a response. George was motionless, unmoving. As if he'd forgotten how to form words. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his mouth.

"Clay, I... You know... I mean-" He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not even gonna deny it."

Clay watched George aimlessly fiddling with his own fingers, evidently uneasy. "So it's true?"

"Please don't make me say it out loud." He groaned and doubled over, burying his face in his hands. The words came out muffled through his fingers pressed tight against his mouth. "Yeah. It's true. And listen, Clay, I'm so sorry-"

Clay closed the distance between them in a few strides, wrapping his arms around George's tense shoulders, who froze up at first, but gradually melted into the touch. He stayed still though, enveloped in the one-sided embrace.

"George, I'm not judging, chill." He drew back in hopes to look at the face in front of him, but it was cast down, the eyes glued to the floor below. "And you're not even the only one."

Something changed in George's demeanor upon hearing those words. Clay couldn't place exactly what, but he felt a little relief when an arm snaked around his back. The eyes he'd been longing to see finally flitted up, now sweet and expressive compared to the former soulless ones.

They were asking a silent question, the inquiry hanging thick in the air, asking for reassurance. Clay nodded, brushing his knuckles over the man's cheek. "Really."

After a relieved chuckle, George buried his head back into Clay's chest. When he looked up, he had a solemn expression on his face.

"Clay... You met me at a very strange time in my life." After a moment, he added. "I mean, met met me. Like, your timing for coming here couldn't be any more worse."

Clay couldn't help but smile at the playful jab. If jokes were what George needed to get his point across without violating his comfort zone, so be it.

"And I-" He dipped his head back down, unable to maintain eye contact. "I'm really thankful for you, Clay. Honestly. Thanks for... sticking with me."

Clay could tell this was a sensitive topic for George by the way he hesitantly pored over every word. He squeezed his hand to reassure him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

He placed his cheek on top of George's head. "Don't mention it. You mean a lot to me, George. I couldn't just leave you."

They stayed in each other's arms for a while relishing the comfort. When they finally parted, the atmosphere in the room was much lighter. It felt as if the colors in the kitchen were more vibrant and lively.

___________

-POV CHANGE-

Clay turned back to the ingredients laid out on the counter. He cleaned and prepped vegetables, tossing them onto a sizzling pan. George watched as he pulled a fresh baked loaf of bread out of the oven, laying it down onto a cloth.

The way Clay handled food - expertly, delicately - made George feel an unexplainable amount of things at once. He had less to leave up to imagination now that he'd experienced the flexibility of those hands firsthand, but that didn't stop him from craving more.

George didn't even realize how long he'd slipped off into a daydream for until the stove was turned off and a warm piece of bread was held out to him. Snapping out of his trance, he took it, savoring the aromas before taking a bite of the soft texture.

Amazing, as everything else Clay had made for him up until now. He tried to give a few words of affirmation through the mouthful, but the laugh he got in response let him know his words had been an indescernible muffled mess.

He took his time eating the slice, watching Clay set a pot of water on the fire instead, dousing the fried vegetables with sauces and spices. He swung his legs, occasionally hitting the cabinet below him with a dull thud.

He put the last bite in his mouth, shaking the crumbs off. "How was the night market?"

"Pretty fun." Clay poured handfuls of rice in the boiling water, sprinkling in some salt. "It's gonna be set up tonight, too. Wanna go?"

George already knew the answer, but he hummed a little before giving it not to seem too desperate. He was desperate, though. He clung onto every second they got together like a lifeline.

"Sure." He shrugged, hopping off the counter. "What time?"

The earthy, tangy scent of the seasoned vegetables hit his nose. He plucked a piece out of the pan, immediately delighted at how the immense flavor overwhelmed his taste buds. Clay watched him savor the food with a pleased smile on his face.

"It's about 3PM right now, you kinda slept in." George rolled his eyes at the obvious statement. "It opens up at 7."

They had plenty of time to spare. George had a few ideas for things they could do to pass the time, but he didn't say a word.

It wasn't like he should've been nervous - they were well past the first date jitters stage, although they'd never even had a first date.

Everything about the situation had been weird - George felt like they'd known each other for a lifetime, even if they'd met up only a week or two ago. Still, the way they acted so casually around each other, the comfort was evident.

George wondered what they'd be doing a few years from now. Would they still be around each other? They still hadn't had 'the talk', despite both of them confessing their feelings and sleeping together.

As much as he wanted things to be official and serious, he couldn't help but feel scared of the realness of it all - sure, Clay was the man of his dreams, but the idea of commitment made his skin crawl.

He cursed his childhood for making things so hard for him. The troubles and insecurities he used to face as a kid still persisted today, not letting him rest.

It wasn't even that he wanted anyone else - he forgot about the existence of the outside world whenever he was with Clay. So why couldn't he just be happy and fulfilled that the subject of his torturous yearning wanted him back?

He gave a quick smile when their eyes met, completely masking the inner doubt rising up inside him. He felt like a horrible person for even thinking these things, but he couldn't help it. The worries had burrowed deep inside his head.

They didn't go away at dinnertime, either. They nagged at him, telling him to just pack up and run, flee as far away as he could, to protect himself from potential heartbreak.

Clay wouldn't do anything to hurt him, right? He repeated the question over and over in his head, riding on the train of thought until he felt like he was going to implode on himself.