this is the place ⇝ george x will

1

The spitting rain perfectly complements George's foul mood. He's walking back home, teeth clenched painfully and his arms tucked underneath his new hoodie to avoid the cold. His phone vibrates against his pocket like a persistent, nagging itch that must be scratched. George hastily pulls it from his pocket before he can think any more about who could want to talk to him on a moody Friday afternoon.

It's Alex.

'You're still coming, yeah?' It reads.

George exhales, grey clouds of frosty air passing his lips concurrently. 'Of course, 2 mins', he types with fleeting haste that disappears as the message is marked as sent. He walks through the trees on the side of the street where his and Alex's apartment block protrudes nastily through two houses and makes his way towards them.

Warm laughter and conversation echo from the lounge as he unlocks the door and hangs up his too-big coat on the rack next to Alex's array of pink hoodies. He wonders what they're saying.

"Oh, hey, George," James says as the boy sets foot in the lounge. "Thought you weren't coming."

George's mouth falls open slightly in surprise. "I told you I was coming," he says, suddenly feeling empty, hands hanging heavy by his sides like they don't belong to him. He feels like he's different parts of different people. It's like he's Frankenstein's monster.

Then he notices the unfamiliar boy sitting next to Fraser on the sofa. George's brain suddenly allows him to smile back at this boy because he's got a warm, friendly grin and crinkly eyes that remind him of cosy fires and walks over crisp brown leaves. The boy's slim - all jutted lines and sharp edges, with long, long legs and nicely browned arms from the sun. Dark hair curls over green-grey eyes and George is suddenly transfixed because, the boy, he's pretty.

"Oh," Alex says, noticing George's curiosity. "I forgot to say. This is Will - he's one of Fraser's mates." As Alex introduces the boy, George notices Will's lip is quirked interestedly towards him, and George finds himself biting down on his bottom lip to stop another foolish smile spreading across his face. George realises Will is sticking out a hand to greet him, all long fingers and veins, so the smaller boy shakes his hand timidly, feeling his face flush bright red as this new lad gives him an intense smile. George decides he likes how Will sounds on the tip of his tongue.

"And you're George, yeah?" Will asks then, nicely enough, Geordie accent prominent in his voice. George nods, unable to say anything else. "I've heard about you."

George blinks before a hurried laugh is escaping him through an exhale. "Good things?"

"Of course, mate," Will says in return, hand squeezing against his shoulder like they've been mates for years. George could've sworn it was true.

*

At five past ten, George can feel his eyes drooping already, fluttering with sleep. "Think I'm gonna go to bed," he says to Alex, who's still revelling in his previous Fifa win. "Wanna get some rest." He pulls himself off the couch, picking up his phone from where it was cascaded hours ago when they'd first started playing. James and Fraser are slumped across his sofa, faces slack, more soft and relaxed under the guise of sleep. Will had left the room a few minutes ago to get a glass of water before bed, and George had, for the first time in a while, felt a genuine smile on his lips as the taller boy nodded at him on the way. The thing is, Will was nice. It wasn't that Alex and Fraser and James weren't nice, it just sometimes felt like they were always worried about him. Often they felt like his parents.

Alex pauses the game, looking up at him with big questioning eyes. "It's only ten," he says after looking at the time on his phone. "Usually you're up until the early hours. You okay?"