Comfort (Dream X GeorgeNotFound)

Development

It had been weeks since George had had his last doubts about what could come of the relationship with Clay.

He'd been too quick to judge, he'd realized, after noticing how they got even closer with every passing day. The former friendship was blossoming into something beautiful and promising.

Besides joy, the biggest thing he felt was relief. Clay had been the missing piece swept under the rug that just clicked into place and completed the unfinished puzzle.

George made sure to tell Clay about it several times, but every time he got the same answer - that he'd been a whole person even before they had met. He just hadn't been able to see it.

It was true, though, no matter how sappy it sounded even in his head. If it weren't for Clay suddenly stepping into his personal life and flipping it upside down, who knows where he'd be. Somewhere in a ditch, probably, having succumbed to his own self destructive habits.

Despite how well things were going, neither of them had been mentioning the thing. The icky topic George always shied away from in every single relationship - the status.

It wasn't entirely necessary, since for the first time in eternity, George was able to take things at a comfortably and steady pace. Plus, he'd known people stuck in the talking stage for far longer than it'd taken them to reach this point.

He'd been slowly getting back to his channel after having abandoned it for so long. He'd have been feeling guilty, if not for the promise made to Clay.

They'd come to an agreement while discussing George's career - he'd only resume once at a stable mental state. Now that he was making progress, he didn't want to throw it all away over work.

They'd chalked George's disappearance up to "personal issues", deciding to keep it vague rather than go into detail. After all, airing out dirty laundry on the internet would not be the best decision for everyone, George thought.

Clay had mentioned he'd been uploading pre-recorded videos, lifting another weight off George's shoulders. Sure, he could handle jeopardizing his own affairs over his lack of control over life, but he wasn't too sure he'd be able to cope with messing with Clay's job.

George was swinging his feet around, sitting in his usual spot on top of the counter. He'd picked up a few nifty skills after watching Clay and despite him vowing to never reveal his secret, binging on cooking tutorials whenever he had the spare time.

It was worth seeing the surprised raise of Clay's eyebrows, or the pleased smile. Though the way his hands guides George's when he wasn't too sure about something was pleasant, though.

Cooking had turned from a disastrous, mostly impossible chore to a relaxing pastime. Sure, his hands may have lacked the skill and finesse of a chef, but he had fun contributing to the prep of the meals. And being around Clay, of course.

Even now, he had busied himself by cutting up the tomatoes to side with the paprika chicken they were making. There was a clear improvement in the technique - the sloppy, uneven slices he had cut in the beginning of his learning experience had formed into almost perfect, symmetrical pieces.

He must have looked pretty satisfied, since Clay glanced at him then down to the curing board with an amused smirk on his face. "You did really well. Good job."

It was the little things that made George's face heat up and stomach flutter, and this was no exception. It was a small feat - just a bunch of pretty tomato slices, but he'd have been lying if he'd said pride wasn't welling up in his chest.

The rest of the preparation went by in comfortable silence, with muffled sizzles and savory smells filling the air.

All George could feel while eating was bubbling excitement with hints of nervousness here and there. He'd scheduled a stream the day before, to get back into the current of things.

There was the ever present fear of being out of touch after spending so much time away from his area of expertise, but having Clay by his side made things he was unsure about easier to cope with, as always.

After cleaning up, he got to work straight away. The stream had been set up after a few moments, and viewers were slowly starting to trickle in.

Clay sat beside him in silence, just outside of the camera view. It was slow and awkward at first, but as time went on, his comments picked up pace and he eased into the stream.

Reading the donation messages that occasionally popped up on his screen had always brought him joy, the present being no exception.

"I missed you George :( where have you been?"

Short and wholesome. He gave a small smile while he tried to search for words to explain.

"I've been doing... stuff. Sorry. But uploads and streams are gonna be more frequent now. Thank you for the donation..." His eyes flitted up to search for the name of the person. Before he could process what he was saying, it was out. "Rose."

His mouth dried up. He thought it was ridiculous, how a simple name could cause him so much frustration.

It seemed his emotions had been mirrored on the face he could see out of the corner of his eye. Nevertheless, no words were said, but they were both thinking the same thing.

Had it been the Rose?

Ridiculous. The chances of her finding their channels, catching a stream and then donating with a two-faced nice message were next to zero.

Still, that thought did little to calm George's jittery nerves. Clay's reassuring gaze, though, encouraged him to keep going and finish the stream.

Time went by relatively fast after they'd more or less forgotten about it. George felt stupid for getting irritated, but deep down he knew it wasn't a thing that would just go away.

The name in Clay's contacts with a little heart icon next to it - that had been long deleted, of course, - the voice coated thick in sweet tones to coo at the man of his dreams, the schemes she had set up as petty revenge.

The memories weren't about to just pop out of existence at a snap of his fingers. Neither were his childhood traumas, and issues, and countless other things that had been bothering him up until this point.

Because even though Clay helped soothe the discomfort, it was still there. And he didn't want to use him as a stilt to prop him up whenever he felt down. Clay was much more to him than that, and George wouldn't be caught dead using him as a coping mechanism anymore.

He'd been looking into therapy, figuring it was long overdue. Not only looking, but attending the sessions. The progress was slow, often difficult to spot. It was disheartening, but realistic.

And in the long run, it would tremendously pay off. Not to mention, it made Clay incredibly happy to see George cope at least a little better.

The rest of the day passed in a flash, filled with pleasant conversations and pastimes. Not a day had gone by with George feeling bored since Clay had entered his life.

The ongoing events and his own thoughts had been enough to keep his busy at all times, but he was ready for peace and quiet.

At night, when the lights outside had dimmed and the noises had died down, George lay awake listening to the steady rise and fall of Clay's chest. He nestled into the arm wrapped around his shoulders, replaying the events of the day.

He wondered what he'd feel in the event of finding out it had been the real Rose. Would it have really affected him?

They'd overcome a ridiculous amount of hurdles to reach the point they were at, and he wouldn't have been willing to throw it all away over an unpleasant experience with an... unfortunate encounter.

Plus, he was invincible with Clay by his side. Hell, Rose could have arrived at that point and started kicking down the door and screaming, and George would've dealt with it and gone back to sleep unbothered next to his Clay.

He'd won the battle, per se, and he wasn't planning on backing down. Because there'd be moments of hardship, but it'd be drowned out by loving words and the spark that would never fizzle out.

The warmth encompassing him lulled him to sleep, promising a good night's rest and filling him with the hopes of even better days to come.