ACID RAIN // DNF AU

Chapter Eighteen (Clay)

He settled George, whose hair was still dripping-wet, beside him in his bed, tucking him under the covers. He was wearing Clay's clothes, something he hadn't lied about loving to see, and the soft, blue, long-sleeved shirt was a little too big on him, slipping down to his collarbones every so often. He yawned, and Clay's heart strained at his chest as he slid under the blankets to lay beside George, tugging the adorable boy closer by his waist. He hadn't been capable of letting George go back to the hotel, unable to leave him alone for more than the few minutes it took him to shower.

He breathed in George's vanilla-ice-cream scent, marveling at the stars in his warm doe eyes. He wanted him in every way possible—wanted to fall asleep holding him every night and wake up with him every morning, wanted to always be the one to make him smile. But his mind kept being dragged back to the moments when George pushed him away.

Moving on from the bad aspects of their relationship wouldn't be easy, but neither was love. They could deal with the tough parts and still be together, even if it wasn't all sunny skies. Besides, there were only rainbows after the rain—after all was said and done, they belonged to each other now. He was madly in love with George, and that wouldn't change.

As he drifted into the first restful sleep he'd had in days, his mind called up memories, fragments of every moment with George. Talking about nothing for hours, falling in love with him through a glowing screen. The freezing wind on the beach when they'd gone on the college visit and had an extra day before George went home, those pictures on his phone from the roof of the parking garage. The day they'd met up for the first time since their childhood, George had looked so good that it'd nearly brought Clay to his knees. The iPhone 8-ball games during school. Staying up late for no reason other than the time difference, saving every spare second for him. Back in sixth grade, when they'd gone to the beach together and the waves kept knocking them over, tossing them around. When their conversations had died out after George moved away, growing less and less frequent until they only messaged each other on birthdays and holidays. He'd missed him even when he was with his closest friends, sometimes even when he was with Jacob. Their past was so overwhelming, so complicated. He wouldn't change a thing if it meant they could stay in this bed, cuddling under the covers. This seemed like something that only happened when the stars aligned perfectly. George's cold hand fit perfectly in Clay's warm one—a sign that they were meant for each other.

The silvery moonlight cast a glow over their skin, banishing the darkness to the corners of the room. Clay dreamed of standing in sticky, humid rain at sunset, tasting sugar and cigarette smoke, finding shimmering, vibrant, misty rainbows in the clouds, and holding the boy he'd always, always loved.