warning: slurs and bullying
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Clay saw flower boy today.
He was reading that romance novel again.
He was a kind boy, was what his friend, Darryl, told him. He said he had a cute voice and a shy personality. Darryl also said he loved hugs and he liked making flower crowns.
Maybe flower boy could make Clay a flower crown?
_
Clay huffed, breathing in the cold winter air as he trudged through the snow: he noticed that George couldn't get any flowers because of winter. that was why Clay hated winter.
Because it made George unhappy.
Clay remembered when Geo-- flower boy gave him a yellow rose on his birthday. He forgot to mention how short the flower boy was. He looked so soft and cuddly that Clay wanted to smush his face into the crook of the smaller boy's neck and breathe in the flowery scent of the boy. oh god, that sounded weird, Clay thought.
The sound of the teasing and yelling made it's way into Clay's ears, snapping him out of his daydreaming. He turned around and heard someone shout "Stop! Please!" and a few other people laugh and shout mean names. Clay was never one to like bullying.
He ran over to see what was happening, anger rising in the back of is throat when he saw a few bullies messing around with a smaller boy. The short boy kept yelling at them to stop, whimpering as they tugged at his hair and ripped one of his sketches into shreds.
"You're nothing, you fairy!"
"You're a freak!"
"You're a f*ggot, no wonder your dad left you!"
Clay's knuckles cracked, anger building in the back of his throat. Everything he saw turned red and before he knew it, he had punched one of the boys straight in the nose.
How dare they hurt his flower boy!
The bully staggered, the other two swinging punches at him. He blocks them, kicking one of them in the shins while he punched the other in the eye. The bullies scrambled away, staggering through the snow and disappeared through the trees.
"Are you okay?" Clay asks. The flower boy looks up at him, surprised. His nose and cheeks were red from crying and the cold, his lips a little blue as well. The shorter boy shivers, shakily nodding as he tries to stand. He nearly falls to the ground, whimpering as his ankle sends a sharp pain up his leg.
"Hey, hey it's okay. I've got you." The taller boy says, his warmer body wrapped around the colder one's. flower boy feels safe.
"You're George, right?" He gently asks him. Clay takes the time to realize that he's actually talking to his crush-- wait, you have a crush on him? He internally screams at himself. The smaller boy nods, a little smile forming on his face.
"I'll take you home, if that's okay?" Clay asks him. He can feel himself blush. He hopes flower boy won't notice and think that it's only the winter that is affecting him. Flower boy nods quickly. Clay can tell that he's embarrassed.
He helps the boy into the warmth of his car, turning it on and hearing the car rumble as it starts up. He can feel the flower boy's eyes on him as he tries hard not to blush.
"Why were they hurting you?" Clay asks the boy, glancing over to him. George shrugs in response, now fixing his gaze onto the road ahead of them.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Clay smiles. There is a silence.
"It's okay. You don't have to." Clay tells him reassuringly. George nods from beside him. The smaller boy looks around, rubbing his nose from the cold. His lips are now turning the reddish pink that they were before. He points to the next stop sign, nonverbally telling Clay to turn that way. Clay makes a mental note to remember the route of his home. maybe he could hang out the flower boy one boy?
About five minutes later of twists and turns, they arrive at the small and quaint little home of George found. It's already decorated for Christmas, and Clay can see a cat through one of the bigger windows, perched up on the windowsill and staring outside. Clay hums.
The flower boy, turns to the floor, opening it and waiting. Clay runs over to the other side and holds onto him, bringing him over to George's home. He brings him up to the front door, the flower boy turning to him.
He hugs him.
Clay feels like he's bout to scream, maybe squeal and also cry of happiness. THE flower boy hugged him!! Just him, nobody else. He, for once, lets his blush rise to his nose and cheeks, including the tips of his ears.
"Thank you." George whispers into hi chest. Clay mentally awes at the softness of his voice.
The door opens, an older woman that looks a bit like George.
"Who are you?" The woman asks, turning to looks at George and then back to Clay.
"Mama, he's the boy who helped me today." George murmurs to her, his long eyelashes blinking as he spoke. The woman, George's mothers, nods.
"Thank you for helping my son. He get bullied sometimes. It's great to see that someone stood up for him." She tells him. Clay smiles, nodding quietly.
"No problem, ma'am."
"Ooh! He has manners too! Are you sure you don't like him." She turns to her son, who's face has turned red. George glares at his mother, refusing to give Clay eye contact. Clay can't help but blush as well.
"I'm afraid I have to go, ma'am. My family expects me home by dinner." Clay tells her. He realizes that he's still holding onto George's waist. He can't help but smile to himself.
"Of course dearie. Thanks again! George tell me what happened. We'll go visit the doctor tomorrow." She begins to lecture an embarrassed George, closing the door behind her as Clay hears the two pairs of footsteps fade into the silence. Clay smiles as he approaches his car, climbing in and turning the car back on, warm air blowing against his face and hair.
He is happy today.
He got to talk to flower boy.
