Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t mean to, at first. It was just coincidence, a late day at school, you know?

But the soft strums of a guitar had perked his attention, especially since it came straight from his classroom. And then the voice.

God, he almost would have frozen from recognizing it as the voice of one of his favorite artists. Because there was no way this singer could be at his school, not when he assumed him to be a grown ass adult, working part-time at some lame store.

But instead, when he peeked through the door, his eyes met a mop of dirty blond hair, his heart clenching. And he almost laughed, because, of course it was none other than Clay, who turned out to be his favorite singer.

None other than his dumb little crush, who else? George’s eyes almost bulged out at that, in all honesty. Who would have thought that this boy would be also Dream, the person he idolized? And at the same time, he was the one that George was quietly adoring from far away.

The song was soft and, even he could hear it, in Clay’s voice was a hint of yearning, of brown hair and fierce eyes, it was then that George realized that this song was a love song.

A sharp tune and a whispered swear word snapped George out of his thoughts and, he noted, that there was a frustrated frown on Clay’s face, as he intensely stared down at his guitar.

How did George forget? Of course, Clay always had a guitar with him, for whatever reason. Now he knew why.

And he didn’t mean to, honestly, he didn’t mean to stay for a while, just to listen to Clay’s soft voice, the emotions laced within it.

But he kind of lost track of time and, before he knew it, he saw the sun set.

Oh fuck, he had to get home or his mom was going to kill him.

It sort of became a tradition since then.

Whenever George had to stay late, which, honestly, was almost every day, he would catch himself leaning against the wall next to the door to his classroom, listening to the melody that his crush would play. It was always lovely.

That was also when he noticed, for who this love song Clay was writing for. Every once in a while, Clay would sing it, practice it and fine tune it, as if his whole life depended on it. George’s eyes drifted towards the person, he assumed the song was dedicated to.

A male, shorter than Clay, for sure, but taller than George, as he nudged said dreamboy, stood right next to Clay, grinning from ear to ear as he made the taller one laugh. Yeah, George was pretty sure that it was him, because he was, and everyone knew that, Clay’s best friend. Since childhood. Nick, obviously, who else could it have been? Brown hair and fierce eyes, the literal first lines of Clay’s love song.

Biting back a sigh, George ignored the small ache in his chest. Just a few more minutes until class started and he could numb his thoughts with school work instead. He’d be fine.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t going to be fine.

As though God had it out for him, George just had to catch Nick and Clay literally kissing in public. Now, if that wasn’t a heartbreaker for him, he wasn’t exactly sure what was.

It made it harder for him to keep up his tradition. To silently listen to Clay’s songs secretly.

So, instead, he started to listen to them on Spotify instead, just like before. Where he didn’t know that Dream was Clay. It burned, sure, and it stung. But it was certainly better than secretly watching the boy strum his guitar, face morphed into a peaceful, yet focused, stance. No, he certainly wasn’t ready for that. Because he was sure, really sure, that he would just break the fuck down and have a meltdown. Tears, though? Those were definitely a thing he had on nights, when he felt especially lonely.

Nights, like these, where he found himself wandering through the streets aimlessly, an attempt to clear his head.

It’s been honestly a while, since he found out that Clay and Nick became a thing, nobody was really surprised about it either. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt less. His eyes glazed over towards the sky, bleary and dark. He remembered how he’d often go stargazing, when he was younger. When he still was in England. He kind of missed it a lot right now.

A small crunch of leaves took his attention, as he looked towards the sound, noting an all too familiar form.

He almost asked, in pure surprise and confusion, what he was doing here, outside, at 2 AM. But then he realized he could literally ask the same thing to himself.

But what left him even more speechless was the fact that this person was shaking, seething from anger and frustration. That made him freeze in his steps. Should he go to him? Would that be a good idea?

As if the person could hear his thoughts, his eyes snapped towards George’s, wide eyed and… teary?

Almost immediately, he ran off, or well, speed-walked, in George’s terms, making him more confused. What happened?

The first thing he noticed, on the very next day, when he came to class, was the tense and heavy atmosphere in the room.

As he settled down in his seat, he noticed his classmates mumble to each other and Clay, the person he saw last night, not being present.

Which was unusual, in George’s opinion. He was always there, never missing classes, usually. And to add to it, George saw him yesterday, seething in anger and close to a breakdown. Something must’ve happened, but he wasn’t sure what.

He watched as Nick, looking just as angry and frustrated as Clay had last night, came in, practically slamming his bag down onto his desk, before he turned his focus to one of his friends. That made George raise an eyebrow.

It was later at that day, that George found out what happened.

One of the classmates had seen Nick together with another boy, Karl, George subtly filled in, together, holding hands and kissing.

That classmate recorded it and sent it to Clay. Last night.

A heavy feeling sunk into George’s stomach as he remembered the look in Clay’s face. It wasn’t anger, that he was showing, it was pure agonizing pain and despair. It made George regret not reaching out to the usually bright boy.

He stared at the empty desk, wondering where said boy was. Then, he stared down at his pages, an idea popping up in his head.

Debating for just a moment, George pulled out a pen, ripped out the paper and wrote.

Okay, there was no fucking way that George was going to stop writing these pages now.

He started just a few days ago, wasn’t really sure what actually inspired him to go through with this. But he kept going anyway, even when Clay hasn’t been to school ever since.

Clay had to go to school sooner or later, right? He couldn’t just hole himself up at his house.

Every day, George wrote down words of reassurance and comfort, of love and adorations towards Clay, hiding each paper, folded neatly, in Clay’s locker. It just felt right.

Especially when Nick had practically been clinging onto his new boyfriend, as though Clay never even existed.

That, honestly, made George angry.

He might’ve written some nasty stuff about him in the notes too, but we won’t talk about that.

Right now, George was trying his hardest not to pass out in the middle of class, having stayed up through the night to write down another note for Clay.

The door creaking open barely made him look up, but the person walking through almost immediately made him wide awake.

There he stood, the boy that he just previously was thinking about.

And God, did he look like a mess.

Clay looked like as though he hasn’t showered for days, skin paler than ever, and his eyes seemed almost empty. The eyebags indicating the lack of sleep almost made George get off his seat and run towards the lankier male, wanting to press him into a tight hug.

He didn’t though. They haven’t really spoken to each other, ever, so he didn’t want to make this awkward. Especially since it was clear that Clay was still heartbroken about Nick.

But then, something else caught his eyes.

In Clay’s hands were the notes that he had written for him, all tightly held, as if his whole life depended on it.

And that’s when George knew, he did the right thing.

Since then, time seemed to pass by in a blur.

He never stopped the notes, even risked listening to Clay’s music, whenever he stayed longer in school.

The notes, in fact, seemed to improve Clay’s mood exponentially. Ever since he came back to school, he seemed a little bit happier. Especially after George had slipped a new note into his locker.

It made his heart ache. A desperate part of him wanted to inform Clay that it was him who wrote them.

But then he remembered the vulnerable face and would stop himself. He didn’t want the other to be disappointed, to maybe realize that George wasn’t up to his expectations.

George was scared, in all honesty.

But he was content with this, truth be told.

He was certain that this high school crush would fade away, when he’d graduate in a few weeks, but every time he wrote another note, he was backpedaling back to the start.

A low chuckle escaped him. Is this what you’d consider love?

Hey, I know today’s the last day we’ll most likely see each other. And I have no clue if you’re gonna check your locker after the whole graduation party, but… I just wanted to let you know. That I really like you. A lot. And I’m genuinely happy to have been a part of your life, even when they were just little notes.

I’ve always adored you from afar; and now that we might never see each other again, I just wanted to tell you that…  you were the best thing that happened to me.

I think I fell for you too.

      - George Davidson, yours truly.

He took in a deep sigh as he slipped the last note for Clay into his locker, biting back a saddened smile. This time, he added his name to the note. A goodbye note, in a way.

Today, he’d be graduating. And so would Clay. He knew that their fates weren’t intertwined, that they would only last until high school ended. Yet, it was an empty feeling for George, one that he wasn’t exactly too keen to accept. In a matter of fact, he felt like, he wasn’t ready to let go. Might never let go either. But that didn’t matter, he thought. Especially when he had been holding onto those frustrating feelings for so long, for as long as he could remember.

This wasn’t gonna end now either, he guessed. Which, in a way, was ironic.

Sometimes, he really wondered, what if he was the one who got together with Clay, instead of Nick? How different would the things have gone?

Nonetheless, it was too late.

He was certain of that, when he finally left the halls of his school one more time.

Years have passed by since then. George was a near graduate at college, proudly announcing that he took comp-sci for his degree.

He lived in England again, in a way, to escape the dull feelings he had in high school.

It worked. Weirdly enough.

Somehow, adoring Clay from afar, separating him from his life, made it easier. Especially when it came to his music.

Clay was literally booming as “Dream”. His singles have already been great, while he was at school, but now that he was in a whole band with a guy called Quackity and another called Wilbur?

It was like a chorus of angels, honestly.

And George was more than content to live this way, to just enjoy Clay’s music. In fact, George was pretty sure that Clay forgot about the notes things altogether. It’s been years, after all.

Years of George not letting go, surprisingly enough.

Sure, he had some flings, yet he never could get over Clay. It was as if he was just… a part of him, you know? A something that George knew that he should let go, but just couldn’t.

That was probably why he ended up buying a ticket to a concert, to Clay, when Clay announced a worldwide trip, even though he was running low on money and had to focus on college first hand.

He just needed to see Clay one more time, he guessed. Even if it meant that he was only seeing Dream and not Clay.

Honestly, George was slightly regretting coming here.

He was reminded why he never really went to any parties, or concerts for that matter, when he got squished against another person, the crowd almost making him claustrophobic.

It was only when he found himself pressed against a wall, away from most people, that he could actually breathe again. His eyes focused on the stage, where the band members had yet to appear, the loud chatter of people almost making him sick.

He was genuinely debating to leave, at this point.

But he didn’t. He didn’t want the ticket to be a waste of money, especially since it cost roughly 40 pounds, for God’s sake.

Then, the people got quieter, the murmurs being the only thing left behind.

The show was starting, George figured, his eyes glued at the stage.

He wondered, would Clay recognize him? They’ve never talked, yet, George still kind of hoped that he would notice him. Quickly crushing those thoughts though, George became distracted again, when he saw the first few people coming onto the stage, Quackity, Wilbur and then, Dream. Clay.

He swallowed. The last time he saw him up close was at school. It felt surreal, to become one with the crowd, to feel the surroundings this clear.

Was he even allowed to call him Clay anymore? He wasn’t sure, yet, he felt a heavy sadness overcome him at the thought. Guiltily, he decided to keep calling him Clay. It wasn’t like, he’d know or notice, right?

The tuning of a microphone snapped him out of his wallowing thoughts and George noticed that Clay was standing at said microphone, the all too familiar smile, that had made George dizzy, plastered on his face.

And when he spoke, God, George felt like 17 all over again.

“Hello everyone! Welcome to our concert!”, he practically yelled, a tad bit too loud, but George didn’t mind. He missed hearing this voice up close, real, not on some digital device.

For the first time, he realized, how different it was, to hear the things you love right there, next to you, instead on a device.

“I wanted to thank everyone for coming, because today’s a real special day.”, a cheeky grin and the shouting of fans all over chorused together.

“Today may seem like a pretty normal day for you guys, I mean, besides getting to see my hot face in person, obviously,” he laughed, before he went on, making George let out a chuckle of his own. “But today, four years ago, was the day, where I could actually live.”

George blinked. Four years ago? That was when they were still in high school, he realized.

But what was special on that day? He tried to think through it, yet, his memories failed him, great.

“That’s honestly why I was really eager to have my first concert trip to start on this day! This specific album, actually, has been specifically written for one person. It’s even the name of the album actually.”, he added, making George a tiny bit anxious. Did he actually write a whole album about Nick? But that wasn’t right. He was sure that it wasn’t. It was someone else, but George couldn’t, for the life of his, figure out who. Especially since the last time he saw Clay, he wasn’t close to anyone. Not really.

He just kept collecting the notes that George wrote him.

Wait.

Wait, no, wait a second.

George’s eyes widened, as sudden realization struck him. There was no way. No actual way that Clay was talking about him, right?

“I dunno where you are now, what you do now, but I honestly wish, I spoke to you sooner.”, and if George wasn’t having an internal panic attack right now, he would’ve noticed how sad the smile on Clay’s face was. “You were the first person to silently listen to my music, like, damn, honestly, I noticed that, at the very first time you stayed. Didn’t say anything though. I wasn’t gonna chase away my first in real life fan away, you know!”, he barked out a laugh, making the crowd cheer.

George, however, was still frozen in confusion, heart racing.

“And then-; when that happened, you know what I mean, if you’re listening, you were the one who cheered me up. In the most unexpected way, seriously! Leaving me notes behind and letting me guess for ages who you are, only for you to tell me, right when there was no way for me to contact you?”, frustration laced the joking lighthearted voice in Clay, eyes sparkling. George wasn’t sure if Clay was about to cry or not.

“But I still want to thank you, for, well, for being here? Or for having been there for me, seriously. I don’t think I would’ve pursued my career any further, if it wasn’t for you.”, a small, more genuine, smile made its way on Clay’s face.

George’s heart ached.

“This is for you, George Davidson.”

And then, the music started.

George chocked back his tears, eyes glimmering as he stared wide eyed towards the boy that he loved, that he still loved to this day.

And, God, the lyrics.

The fucking lyrics.

George was seriously going to break down, if Clay kept singing.

He knew, he knew from the start. Knew that George had always listened to him, had always secretly admired him from afar. And he knew about the notes, but he never knew it was him, who wrote them. How could he? He thought that George just got bored, only to be proven wrong, when the notes appeared.

And George’s heart was burning, he felt like he was on flames. If only he reached out, he wondered, what would happen?

What would happen, if Clay knew he was here?

And just like that, as though his thoughts were heard, he found green, vividly yellow for him, eyes staring right at him. Two pairs of eyes widened.

His breath hitched.

No one seemed to notice how Clay’s voice wavered, for just a split moment, a moment, where it felt like as if it were just the two of them.

And the moment passed by far too fast, for George’s liking. The heat in his face never fading. Whether it was from embarrassment or not, he wasn’t sure.

But he knew that Clay didn’t look away at him, once, ever since their eyes met.

And if he was still frozen on the spot, as the song ended, he didn’t mind, the crowd scattering for just a moment.

The band had called for a small break, even though it was only the first song.

The others knew too. They had to, after all, Clay had to have written that song, right?

He wasn’t really sure how things ended up like this, honestly.

One moment, he was standing in the middle of the crowd, the second, Clay- Dream? -, appeared in front of him, a hood up. He was clothed completely differently, almost as if he was trying to hide who he was.

Quickly, George realized, that was the plan, as he gently reached out for his wrist, tugging him along softly.

And George didn’t mind that at all, on the other hand, really. He felt his face burn, his eyes staring down at the hand.

How the hell was he supposed to react to this? This confusing mess, that was slowly provoking buried feelings to arise once more. He didn’t know what to do.

Not when he was being dragged to the backstage. Nor when Clay pulled him into a staff only room.

He took off his hood and, George’s heart stuttered. Up close, he could see those shining, sparkling eyes. Freckles, soft, speckled across his cheeks, giving George the urge to give each of them a small peck.

And, God, this made him realize how tall Clay was. He had to literally crane his neck slightly, just to look him in the eyes. It was hard though, so instead, he looked to the side, hoping that Clay thought he was looking at him.

Sadly, he was wrong though, as he felt a shaky hand reach towards his cheek, gently brushing it.

“George?”

His heart ached.

It burned, it flamed. He could hear the fear in Clay’s voice, the fear that he was dreaming, that this wasn’t real.

And the sadness that lied underneath them.

He wasn’t sure how he could tell that from just one single name, but George’s heart just knew. He had to.

He could only muster a half-hearted smile, his heart racing nervously. “Yeah?”, barely above a whisper.

And then he was engulfed in a hug. In a big warmth. It took him a moment to process, to realize that, oh. Oh, shit. Clay was actually hugging him. And squeezing him. And George realized that Clay didn’t want to let go, as he wrapped his own arms around the other’s neck, not wanting to do such either. Then, he felt something wet against his shoulder.

“C… Clay?”, he murmured, uncertain.

A sniff.

And then the ridiculously large body was shaking, holding onto George, as though he was the only thing holding him together.

It made his breath hitch and, for a moment, he was worried, that he did something wrong, when relief flooded Clay’s voice.

“I... I can’t believe that this is real.”, he chuckled between soft tears, tears of happiness, George realized.

“I thought- I thought I’d never- how? How are you here?”, and Clay pulled away, George almost missing the warmth, when two large hands engulfed his cheeks, emerald eyes staring intensely at George, as though they were trying to memorize every aspect of him. It made his face flush a somber pink, made him want to turn away. But he didn’t.

He couldn’t. When his heart was aching so much now.

“I- I missed you too.”, George burst out, ignoring how he felt tears slip down his cheeks as well. “Honestly.”, he began laughing softly, pulling away slightly, before a hand wiped those tears off his face. “I-, I just. I thought I would never- or even- “, he babbled, unsure where to even start.

Which seemed to be something that Clay related, because he let out a soft “shh”, leaning his forehead against George’s. Fuck, he was reminded why he was so in love with this boy.

This boy that he hadn’t seen in front of him in the last four years ago.

And, oh. Oh, their faces were close now. And Clay was smiling now. He was smiling that big wide toothy grin, that made George’s butterflies go haywire. And then, he leaned forward, nudging their noses together.

“I missed you too.”, Clay mumbled against his lips, breath ghosting against it.

The flames in his heart burnt and burnt and he finally let the dam break, leaning forward to smash their lips together.

It was messy, he wasn’t sure how to exactly kiss, their noses awkwardly bumping against each other first, before their lips slotted together.

And, in a way, it was perfect.

In a way, he couldn’t deny that this was the best kiss he had, as he felt himself get pulled closer towards the taller, yet younger, male. Nor could he deny the fact that he had a giddy smile on his face, as he pulled back, both his and Clay’s faces flushed a bright pink.

“So.”, he let out, softly.

“So?”, Clay pursed out, his own smile reflecting George’s.

“I think you still have a couple songs to sing for me.”, he smugly replied, surprised at his sudden burst of confidence.

Though Clay didn’t seem to mind, letting out a soft laugh as he nudged their noses together.

“Oh, you’re gonna love them. I’m your Dream, after all.”

And, even though he was sure that there was still a lot to talk about, he felt content.

He felt like; he achieved his happiness.

“And I’m your George been found, huh?”, he joked, making Clay snort.

“Actually, one of the songs is called ‘George not found’, which, I guess, makes it all the more ironic, eh?”, he grinned smugly, bumping their noses together again.

“Oh my God.”, George laughed.

A thought popped up in his mind, full of warmth, as he pulled Clay down into another kiss.

So, this was love, huh?

Chapter Text

He still couldn’t believe it.

Seriously, who would have, after years of searching?

So, who would have thought that, the boy he had been searching for, had been in England all along?

He never wanted to let go. He just couldn’t, not when he finally held the smaller boy in his arms, tight, close. Yet, the smaller of the two gently pushed him away from the hug, a ginger smile on his lips.

“C’mon, I think your fans are waiting.”, George murmured and, God, how the hell did Clay not try and reach out to him sooner?

A small, brief nod. He bit his lips, staring down into soft auburn eyes. And his heart made a jump.

“Will I… will I see you again?”, he hesitantly asked, scared that he’d lose him in the crowd, that, before he got the chance to, George would slip from his fingers. He didn’t want that. Not when he, for the first time, was able to hold him close.

“Obviously. Where do you think I’d go?”, George scoffed lightheartedly and all of Clay’s fears melted away. Of course. “If you want, I could… go back here again, once you’re done?”, he hesitantly added, unsure.

Only for Clay to immediately nodding, grasping his hands. “Yeah! That’s a great idea. I’ll let my personals know and you’ll be let in, whenever you want. Promise.”, he squeezed their hands together.

God, they were so tiny, compared to his. This was so amazing. He still couldn’t believe it, really. It felt like a dream. Which was ironic, considering his nickname in the band.

With a little bit more hesitance, Clay slowly pulled away from George, nudging the other towards the door. “I just… gotta change my outfit, then I’ll be on the stage, asap, alright? I’m going to catch you in the crowd.”, he smiled widely. George returned it with his own, making Clay’s heart flutter at the sight.

There really was a lot of catching up to do, that, he was certain of.

On stage, he found out that he might have been the last one to arrive, his two close friends looking at him with raised eyebrows.

They probably were super confused, when he suddenly announced the break, right after the first song.

Wait. Fuck, he didn’t tell them jackshit.

They didn’t know that he, ridiculously enough, found George!

Before he could get a chance to speak to them, Wilbur just took the microphone, announcing they were back.

Well, he supposed he had to tell them later, huh.

His eyes searched the crowd, finding chocolate brown ones after a few minutes. A smile slipped onto his face, as he took his microphone back from Wilbur (“Goddamnit Wilby, it’s my mic, don’t touch it”, “You would’ve just taken ages until we started, so get over it.” He wasn’t wrong.)

He let out a long sigh, ruffling up his hair, as his hand drifted through them, leaning against a wall in an empty hall. It was, by now, two hours now, and he had just finished his last autograph for his fans. Yet to see George again, afterwards.

Oh, and he had to meet up with Wilbur and Quackity too, to introduce them to George. That was going to be fun.

Seriously, he really wanted to go hit the hay right now, but that probably would be a pretty bad idea, especially in a random ass hall.

So, he pushed himself off against the wall, taking a couple steps towards a direction, before changing it, realizing that, oh shit, he went the wrong way. Luckily, no one saw that small mess up. God, Quackity would have never let him down for that.

Biting back a chuckle, Clay headed towards the personal staff room, only to hold on his tracks, when he caught wind of his all too familiar friends.

“Oh Dream!”, Quackity –Alex, shouted out, barely making Clay jump. He was used to this, really. He was just glad that Alex didn’t decide to yeet himself at Clay, like one of the previous times. That, well, that ended with a couple tables being broken and an expensive amount of money wasted.

A chuckle escaped him, as he thought about that, giving Alex a quick nod, before waving towards Wilbur. The only one from the band that actually combined his name to his nickname. Mostly because he was too lazy to think about one, though it ended up sticking after a few minutes already.

“Sooooo… you wanna explain why you rushed off after the very first song, mate?”, teasing, oh Lord, Clay was going to have fun. He sighed, shuffling his feet awkwardly, before he nodded. “Well. Uh… you’d be surprised, but… I kind of, found the person we sang about. In our first song?”, he awkwardly rushed out. Almost instantly, Wilbur snorted, before biting it back. “What? Good prank, man, but there’s no way.”, he chuckled out softly, shaking his head. “How would he, out of all places, just so happen to be here? Didn’t you, like, search for his ass for ages or something?”, he pointed out and, oh for fucks sake, this is exactly why he hated his friends sometimes. He felt his face heat slightly and, in an attempt to shut Wilbur up, Alex already close to a giggling mess, he shoved him gently.

“Oh, shut up! I’m serious! If you want proof, just follow me!”, Clay huffed out, trying to hide how embarrassed he was.

That made Alex pike up, eyebrow raised. “Sure, sure. Show us your dear George, simp. I’m pretty sure it’s a faker anyway. I mean, how can you be sure?”, he snorted- receiving a small glare from Clay.

“Just. Just come, I’ll introduce you guys to him. I swear to God, if you guys are going to embarrass me, I will hang you two up in a truck and leave you two to rot.”

“Jeez, drama queen much?”, Wilbur laughed, yet, he followed Clay, as the younger male made his way to the staff room, Alex close behind.

To his relief, and disappointment, he noted that George hadn’t been here waiting yet, when he came inside.

“Not going to lie to you, but is your boyfriend a ghost or something?”, Alex cracked a joke, pointing out that there was nobody here.

Obviously.

“Shh, he’s just not here yet! Maybe he wasn’t sure that he could just waltz in here, when you two stink like the devil. I mean, ew, gross, what.”, Clay teased, shooting back a smug smile.

Alex gasped in offense, quick to jab another quip right back, “At least I don’t smell like I haven’t showered in months! Seriously, you actually never shower!”

“What sort of nose do you have?? I smell perfectly fine! You’re the one who smells like crap!”

“Oh my God, guys, stop, you’re acting like kids. Since when were you two pissbabies?”, Wilbur slipped in, shaking his head, as though he was mature.

Which was quickly proven to be false, when Clay noted that there was a spider on his shoulder (there was not).

Wilbur almost whirled around like crazy, before realizing that Clay was joking. “Oh, you little shit.”

And then they were on each other, all three of them, messing with each other. Honestly, they probably should be starting to clean shit up, hell, Clay was actually waiting for George, but it was kinda hard, when your two assholes of friends are messing with you and, he guiltily was just part of it as well.

So, when a throat cleared itself, Clay thought nothing of it, at first.

Though, for Alex, it definitely took his attention and, for fucks sake, why was he laughing now?
“Alex, don’t you fucking tell me you just stuck- “, Clay’s voice died down, when he looked at where Alex was looking.

Oh, my fucking God.

“George!”, he burst out, letting Wilbur join the laughing fit with Alex.

Clay, on the other hand, felt his face heat up. This was not how he wanted to introduce his friends to George! Or for that matter, being literally wrestled on the ground, while George was watching them acting like literal kids.

But the glint of amusement in George’s eyes gave Clay a feeling of relief.

The snort that followed sent butterflies right up his stomach.

“Honestly, I thought I’d see you alone, but this is so much better.”, George let out, biting back a bright grin. Slowly, Wilbur, and Alex, stood back up, Clay following at last.

“Yeah, well, uhh.”, Clay coughed, giving George a cheeky grin.

“I guess, I should introduce y’all, right?”

“Duh, obviously, what do you think we are? Cockroaches?”, Alex piped in, quick to be shut up by an elbow in his stomach. By none other than Clay, of course.

“Anyways. Ahem. This motherfucker here is, as you probably know, Quackity. But we call him pissbaby.”, “What! No, you don’t!”, Alex quipped, pushing Clay gently. “Fine, fine, no, that’s Alex. Congrats, you officially are one of the first people to know his true name.”, Clay halfheartedly joked, rolling his eyes at Alex.

“And that-“, “I’m Wilbur. And no, I’m not a pissbaby, that’s Clay, before he even thinks about saying shit about me.”, Wilbur smugly cut him off, a sparkle in his eyes as he dared Clay silently to say anything.

Because, well, Clay more often than not liked to take challenges.

Unless they were with Wilbur, because that asshole loves to cheat. So, he huffed, rolling his eyes again.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you two pissbabies, I’m George.”

God, Clay was so in love.

The gasps from both Alex and Wilbur almost made him burst out of laughter, the false offended faces though, did.

“Hey, Clay, are you sure this is your George?? He seems like a total ass.”, Alex whined, though his voice held no malice over him.

“Yeah- yeah, I am even more sure now, oh my God. George, I- I didn’t think you’d go straight-“

“I’m not George if I can’t be a little daring, can’t I!”, George snorted out, flashing a wide grin towards the trio.

“Honestly, I’m surprised that you guys even found each other! Like, think about it. This is literally our first world trip, we literally decided to start in England out of all places, London! And, then, it just so happens that we’re singing about the George, that Clay was simping for, and he was just at the concert!”, Alex announced.

“And then Clay even noticed and recognized him, may I add.”, Wilbur noted.

“It’s almost as if God went ahead and played amour.”, he snickered, giving Clay a nudge.

Clay just huffed, rolling his eyes. “God’s pretty homophobic, if that’s the case. I mean, come on, he let us wait for over four years to actually do shit!! That’s so lame.”, he pouted.

“Awww, is the little Dweamy angwy? Awww.”, Alex cooed, making George laugh. “Dweamy? What?”

That made Clay groan. “Oh no, guys, you are not going to embarrass me on the first day, are you kidding me?”

“Well, isn’t that what friends are for?”, Wilbur asked, smiling widely.

And, with a defeating sigh, Clay glanced towards George, eyes glinting brightly.

“I guess they are.”, he mumbled.

“But I think George is my only friend now.”, he stated, huffing.

“Wasn’t he your boyfriend?”, Alex snorted, rolling his eyes.

George sputtered. “Well- I mean, I thought so too- unless… gasp, are you asking me to marry you?”, he snickered.

“I wouldn’t exactly be against that…, but maybe we should take things slow first. I mean, there’s still a shit ton of catching up to do, isn’t there?”

“There is. How about lunch? Tomorrow, at 2 pm? I’d text you the address.”, he hummed, smiling gently at Clay.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Gimme your number?”

“Guys, get a room!”, Alex shouted, lighthearted.

Clay rolled his eyes at that, grinning widely at George.

So, this was love, huh?

He could get used to it.