suddenly // dnf, gream, dreamnotfound

2 Weeks Later

3rd person Clay pov//

After a few weeks, Clay and George had gotten close. They spent a lot of time together, and in that time they learned a lot about each other. With every word falling out of George's mouth, Clay was more intrigued in him.

At George's apartment, they were finishing the last chapter of Sweater Weather.

"Wait- wait, wait, wait, pause. I don't remember how it ends. Oh god," Clay says, sitting very close next to George. They've started sitting closer and closer every visit, Clay's observed. He doesn't mind a single bit.

"That's why we're reading it now, Clay. Now shush up so I can finish it," George demands, smiling.

"Okay, okay." Clay leans back over George's shoulder and he starts reading again.

George's voice calms Clay immediately. Something about his voice just brings Clay home. It's smooth and his accent just makes it even better. He could listen to his voice for hours. Clay accidentally tunes out George's voice for a paragraph.

Snapping out of it, he returns to the present. George reads the final paragraph.

*the book*

I'm happy with him, now, more than I ever was. I used to be cold. I was always cold. He keeps me warm all the time. Even when I'm freezing, I don't feel cold.

I can't wait to see him again. I grab my hat and pull on the door handle to open it, but my mom stops me.

"Honey, it's chilly outside!' my mom reprimands. "You should be wearing a jacket! It's not summer, it's at least sweater weather!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure Mom. I'll go grab one." I smile to myself, going upstairs. I'd have been warm anyways.

*out of book*

"What does he mean by cold? That doesn't make any sense, why would you be warmer with someone else?" Clay asks, obviously very confused.

*pov switch to George*

"It's symbolism, Clay. It's got a deeper meaning. He doesn't mean he was actually cold, he meant that he was struggling. People can, uh, make you feel... warm inside, even just by their..." George glances at Clay, "...presence. Now that he's got a boyfriend, he feels more... accepted. And happier."

"Oh. Yeah... yeah, I know that feeling," Clay says, glancing away. I do, too. All too well, George thinks.

"Yeah. Like, um... I feel warm... when I'm with you..." George trails off. He looks away, heat basically radiating off his face.

"Yeah?" Clay asks.

"Yeah..." George confirms. "Yeah."

They're both silent until Clay speaks up. "Yeah. Me too."

George sucks in a breath quietly. Oh my god.

George turns back to Clay and he was looking at him. They're so close together. George runs his hand over the fabric of the couch, trying to calm himself. Clay looks at him differently than he had before. Something about it was lined with a different feeling. George looked at Clay the same way. His eyes. They are so clear. Neither of them moved, too scared.

Accepted. And happier. That's what George was. At least with Clay, he was.

Suddenly, George's phone rang. He jumped at the sudden sound, breaking the tension. He reluctantly looked away from Clay and at the number on his phone.

Mom is calling...

Oh god. "Oh shit..." George says, starting to breathe faster and faster.

"What? What??" Clay asks, worried. He shifts in his seat.

"It's my mom..." George says so silently Clay almost doesn't hear it.

"And...?"

George stays silent. Hands shaking over the answer call button. "And she hates me... for- um...."

"What, George?" Clay says almost silently. His voice is lined with care and softness. "Should you answer it?" The softness is still there.

"Yeah... yeah.. I should," George says, and shakily presses the answer call button.

"Mom?" George asks weakly.

"George." Her voice is hard and tense.

"Why- um... why did you call?" George asks, still shaking hard.

"Your father is in the hospital. I just thought I'd call and tell you."

"W-wh... what?" George says so silently almost Clay couldn't even hear him. His voice breaks. Clay's heart shatters.

George almost drops the phone as his mom says, "Yeah, he's fell down the stairs and hurt himself. Pretty badly I think. He's not gonna die or anything but... yeah. Just thought I'd tell you." His mom sounds monotone.

"Oh... thank you, Mom."

"...Yeah."

"Can we- um, can I visit him?"

"Yeah, I guess. What do you mean we?"

"Uh, me and my new... friend. From my new apartment area. He's nice," George says. Clay smiles faintly.

"Oh. Uh, okay. Well... see you," his mom says, and promptly hangs up.

George drops the phone on the couch and breathes heavily. "Um... sorry... about that..."

"No, no, no don't worry. It's fine," Clay says, trying to reassure him.

They sit in silence for a while while Clay picks at the couch seams. "Are you okay?" Clay asks softly.

"Yeah, um..." George sniffles. No, please. "No... not really." He starts to cry and Clay falls apart internally. His heart hurts and his stomach twists, and he's not even the one with a Dad in the hospital.

"Please don't cry George... it's gonna be okay, I promise. We can go see him!" Clay says, slowly putting a hand on George's shoulder. He rubs it slowly to try and make him feel a little better.

George leans his head into Clays hand. His face is warm. Oh my god. He's so cute. What the fuck.

"Yeah...."

"It will be okay, I promise. He's not gonna die or anything. I'm sure he'll be fine in no time."

"You promise?"

"Swear on it."

"Will you take me?"

"Of course I will, George. I'd do anything." Clay's own heart skips a beat, even though he's the one that said it. Please don't tell me he noticed the underlying affection in my voice... god.

George wipes a tear from his eye and stays on Clays hand. Clay moves it to cup George's face. He wipes a tear with his thumb. "We can go whenever you're ready."

"I think I'll wait a little bit...."

"That's fine with me. We can just stay here." Clay smiles and ducks down at George. He smiles faintly back, and Clay's heart flutters. "I'll be here."