ACID RAIN // DNF AU

Chapter Eight (Clay)

He felt so stupid for not checking the weather before the morning when he went to pick George up at his hotel, but he'd been able to come up with a good plan for the day despite the heavy drizzle. Now, they were in the nearest convenience store to stock up on cheap snacks, and they'd already rented about half a dozen movies to last them through the day.

He picked up a package of battery-powered candles. "Maybe we need these. What if the power goes out?"

"Just get them!" George nearly shouted, grinning widely. "It's all so cheap!" He knocked two bags of chips into the shopping basket, taking up nearly all the room. "I'm literally getting three more carts."

He chuckled to himself at the childlike excitement, taking some more fake candles. He followed George to the candy aisle, where he spotted a certain item. "Didn't you used to love chocolate-covered raisins?"

There was a short period of silence as George stared at him quizzically. "I did, yeah. I can't believe you remembered that."

Shit. He shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't normal to remember that. He barely even knew any little details like those about his other friends, even Jacob.

George just tossed the little plastic jar into the shopping basket and moved on. They'd basically taken one of everything before they went to the check-out aisle. Clay paid again before George got the chance, and they carried their plastic bags out to the car, running through the rain. He kept his eyes on the slick road as he drove home, listening to the rain drumming on the roof of the car. Again, they had to dash from the driveway to the front door, and then they were safe for the next few hours.

He clicked the lock behind them, taking off his jacket. "You haven't been inside in a while, have you? Come in." George slipped out of his jacket as well, handing it to him. The sleeve of his sweatshirt fell back, revealing the pen Clay had drawn on his forearm.

He led George to the kitchen, dumping junk food on the counter in a massive pile, and then to the living room. George collapsed onto his couch, sinking into the cushions and spreading his arms against the whole backrest obnoxiously. Clay glanced behind him, taking the movie discs out and offering them to his friend. He asked, "Which one do we start with?"

He hummed in deliberation. "Just pick the best ones first, so if we fall asleep, we won't notice the bad movies."

Clay slid the disc in, pressed play, and disappeared into his bedroom to retrieve a pile of blankets. George had settled himself on the couch by the time he returned, and he dropped the stack on top of him.

He slid to a spot equidistant to the arm of the couch on one side and George on the other, balancing what he wanted with what was good for him. He couldn't focus on the movie, instead watching George curl up under the soft blankets against the arm of the couch, nestling into a cocoon. The rain fell harder, coming down in torrents outside their little safe haven. He took the corner of the topmost blanket on George, careful not to touch him, and threw it over himself, leaning back on the couch.

"Can you pass the crisps?" George asked absentmindedly, reaching out a hand. He looked around, then spotted the bag of chips on the table.

"Crisps?" He scoffed, tossing them over. "You've changed."

George giggled softly, angling his body to face him. "Yeah, well, I've been living in Britain for years."

He was very conscious of the space between them, somehow shrinking. He inched closer against his will.

The screen flickered, reflecting off of George's dark eyes. Blue light colored his skin, splashing over his profile.

Clay was so hopeless.

As the movies went on, drowsiness sank in. He couldn't follow the plot anymore, and he felt like he was losing time without having the sun to keep track of it. The constant pitter-patter of raindrops was soothing, and it lulled him into a relaxed state.

George's head dropped onto his shoulder gently, and he flinched, opening his eyes to look at the smaller boy. He had fallen asleep and was now leaning against him, his breath coasting along Clay's shoulder and neck and giving him warm tingles.

He couldn't do anything but adjust George's position so that he would be more comfortable, placing an arm around him. He didn't want to think about what would happen if George woke up. All he needed was this quietness, the momentary serenity brought on by the rain.