Last Summer // DNF

~28~ Behind The Counter

HELLO! 

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*The next morning* (I will like to clarify that the two did not have seggs after they went home)

George was positioned behind the oven, scrambled eggs were being cooked in the pan. He was humming a random tune, something quite upbeat for an early-ish morning. Clay was still upstairs sleeping, Beth and Drista were sleeping as well.

George sprinkled some pepper and salt onto the eggs in the pan, pushing them around with his spatula. It was around 10 am. When the two got home they both went straight to bed, not even bothering to shower. To George's surprise, he woke up at around 9:30 and took a shower, his hair was still damp and messy.

George had pulled on one of Clay's green oversized hoodies that reached a bit lower than his mid-thigh and a pair of sweatpants. The scent of cinnamon occasionally wafted up George's nose, to which he didn't complain.

George let the eggs cook, setting the spatula on a paper towel on the counter. He bought his hands to this face, the sweater paws taking hold. He laid the sweater paws on his face, intaking Clay's smell. It was intoxicating and addictive, George loved it. It reminded him of safety, or what he believed safety felt like.

George stood there, leaning his front against the counter lightly, masking in the smell. He swayed lightly in content. His eyes were closed when he felt someone lightly brush his shoulder then a pair of arms wrapped around George's waist. He already knew who it was. Clay had gotten into the habit of letting George know he was about to hug or touch him when he wasn't paying attention by lightly tapping him on the shoulder or touching him for a second before actually going into the action. George appreciated it, he didn't flinch as much around Clay anymore because of it.

"Good morning," Clay said, his voice a familiar raspy and husky tone. He laid his chin on the brunette's shoulder, looking at what he was doing.

"Good morning," George said, leaning back onto Clay's chest. He brought his hands to trace the blonde's arms that were wrapping around his waist. They stayed in the hugging position for a while, George occasionally flipping the eggs to keep them from burning.

Clay let go when George had finished plating their food, leaving enough for the girls for when they came down. They two sat down at the kitchen island, eating in comfortable silence.

 George was thinking about going home. He and Beth had welcomed their stay for too long, plus their parents would eventually see that they weren't there for a week. That brought George to another thought, where was Clay's mom? She was still somewhat in the two siblings' lives, she just traveled a bunch. He has never met the woman since she was never home. George sympathized for Drista and Clay.

George took the last bit out of his eggs before getting up and setting the plate in the sink, rinsing off the crumbs that laid on it. Clay looked at him, studying him. He could tell there was something bothering George but he couldn't quite place it.

"George, are you okay?" Clay asked, leaning on his elbows that were propped up on the counter. George was leaning over the counter where the sink was, looking at the water droplets that littered the stainless steel.

"I- uhm, yeah. I'm okay." George said, avoiding eye contact. He traced his fingers along the sides of the sink, his fingers getting damp in the process. Clay sighed and pushed his finished plate aside.

"George..." George sighed and looked up, his eyebrows were furrowed together as if he was conflicted and thinking.

"We have to go back home." George said, his voice quiet. Clay's eyes widened and he sat up and walked around the island to where George was standing.