And Maybe That's Alright

Odd

"George," Clay tried to stay serious but ultimately failed, crumbling into giggles again "George."

George stood triumphantly on their bed, clad in boxers and his shirt ready for bed, and grinned down at Clay. He bounced ever so slightly, bending his knees. "George," He had intended to whisper but it cracked into a quiet voice with his laughter "we're not alone, they're probably trying to sleep."

George ignored the protest entirely, continuing to bounce his knees and make silly little faces consisting of raising his eyebrows or opening his mouth in mock cheers. He knew that Clay wasn't really mad in the way that when he tried to repeat George's name for a forth time it faded out into a wheezing breath.

"Oh my God," Clay peeled off his socks and jeans to join George in a similar state of undress suited for sleeping before climbing up atop the bed as well. "Get down, idiot." He hooked an arm around George's waist and George let himself be pushed over backwards, landing trapped beneath Clay's arm. "You're so annoying." Clay laughed out fondly.

"We're free, Clay. You're allowed to love me now." George repeated giddily for easily the hundredth time that evening.

"We are, I am." Clay replied, tucking the arm over George in tighter and pressed his cheek into the pillow to take in George's elated face. George giggled and wormed closer, wrapping his arms around Clay's.

"I get you all to myself." George laughed, shaking Clay's shoulder. Clay chuckled a soft 'oh my God' before pushing himself up on his hands to hover over his boyfriend. George reached up to squish Clay's face between his hands and, in a put on, gravely voice that was terrifyingly close to Golem's, murmured "My precious."

Clay felt his heart swell impossibly large, trapping the words in his chest and pressing against his lungs until it was all he could do to surge down and kiss George into the pillows behind his head. George kept his hands on Clay's cheeks, humming a bubbly noise against Clay's lips.

Clay pulled back, keeping his eyes closed and knocking his nose to George's. "You," he kissed George again, sweet and soft and quick "are," again "an," and again "idiot." The final kiss was longer and warmer, Clay's lips moving gently over George's in a practiced pattern.

"But you love me." George whispered hoarsely when they pulled back, smile wide and eyes near shut.

"But I love you." Clay agreed, laying himself down George's side comfortably.

"And you always will." The words almost went unheard, they'd been so softly spoken, yet Clay picked them up delicately and cradled them close in his heart. They weren't so uncertain, were no longer a question. George was emboldened by the cold metal of the promise ring that sat nestled on his forefinger, assured by Clay's company, actions and words.

For the first time in a long while, Clay finally felt he'd done something right.

"And I always will. For as long as you love me." He confirmed, thumb beginning to drag up and down in it's place nestled against George's waist, just below his shirt.

"Forever." George decided without a moment's deliberation. He needn't think about it, he already knew for certain.

Clay shifted onto his side to study George better, keeping an arm securely around his waist. "Forever?" He asked in a voice so small "even when you're angry at me?"