𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦. | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

17

"After you, m'lady." Clay giggled as he opened the passenger car door, stepping aside to let George out. "You're such as idiot." The brunette swatted at his gesture, playfully rolling his eyes.

Clay closed the door behind George, turning on his heels to then look at the restaurant entrance a few feet ahead of them. He looked back down to meet George's expectant eyes, managing to equip a triumphant smile. The blonde coyly rested a hand on the small of George's back, beckoning him to follow.

The taller pushed the door open, letting George enter the establishment before him. Clay quickly met the questioning eyes of the waitress, holding up his hand and signaling a two.

George quickly picked up on the exchange and began following the waitress, this time looking behind to make sure Clay was following. The brunette contently hummed when they were sat down near a window seat near the back of the restaurant, almost void of any other diners.

Clay thanked the waitress and quickly grabbed the menus, passing the other to George. "Is this spot okay?" The blonde asked, flicking his eyes from the menu to George's face- noticing he was facing the sunlight.

"It's perfect." George giggled in response, pushing back a stand of hair that had fallen in front of his goggles. "The sun isn't in your eyes too much?" The blonde continued. George tapped the rim on his goggles. "I'm fine, Clay." He reassured, flipping up his menu to cover his face.

Clay playfully scoffed and did the same to his own menu, quickly scanning the familiar lines of meals. It only took a few minutes for him to decided what he wanted, and set his menu back down on the table rather quickly.

George still seemed to be making his decision- so Clay settled his gaze outside the window. "Hey Clay?" A small voice interrupted his concentration on the outside, the sincerity in the voice making the blond's heart melt.

He turned to the source, seeing George looking straight back at him. "What's up?" Clay raised a brow and leaned again the table on his elbow. The brunette seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I'm honestly not sure what's good here." He confessed, eyebrows knitting into a look of concern.

"I really haven't eaten out ever since i've came to America and I'm not sure if i'd like a lot of the things on here.." His voice trailed off. Clay quickly nodded, and mindlessly stood up to better help George. He took a close seat next to the shorter, grabbing the menu out of George's hand for a better look.

Clay continued on to explain some of the dishes and recommended a few of his favorites to the brit. Clay found himself laughing over George's tendency to say 'chips' instead of fries.

"It's not even that funny!" George swatted away at Clay- who still remained seated next to him- the blonde only laughing harder. "You really haven't been out much have you? Calling fries chips in America is a death wish." The blonde continued to tease.

George crossed his arms. "My dad doesn't like any American food!" The brunette playfully ranted, rolling his eyes. "What about your mom? You said she works a lot but surely she's ordered you some food from somewhere?" Clay innocently asked.

George's expression seemed to immediately falter at the question, only now realizing what he said. His face quickly formed into a panic, and his mouth opened like he was going to say something.

"Are you guys all set?" The waitress who sat the down was now back at the head of the table, notepad in hand. Clay swiftly exchanged positions and was now sitting back in his original seat. "Yeah, we are."

-

Clay poked at his half-eaten steak with his fork, now realizing his eyes were bigger than his stomach. He glanced up to see George a little farther than him with his chicken sandwich.