Sticky Notes

Hanging Out

"So," Clay started, "can I buy you dinner?"

George laughed. "Are you trying to get in my pants?"

"Ha, you wish. But seriously, I want to thank you for letting me crash at your place."

"That's very kind of you, but you don't have to."

"I want to, George."

George smiled softly. "Okay, if you insist."

Clay took a breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Trying to ask that question as a friend, to laugh off the "couple teasing". Sometimes he was so close to just breaking, to asking George out, to kissing him or doing something else that would fuck up their friendship. 

-

Because of nohomojustfriendsnotadatehahawe'renotgay, they didn't go to a fancy restaurant. They walked to a small family Thai restaurant, making sure to eat local. Clay and George didn't take long eating, but it was nearly 8 when they were finished. Their dinner had been nice, peppered with small talk and unimportant conversations. They were happier to be in each others' presence than have a lifechanging discussion. They walked around in the dark, looking for desert because the Thai restaurant didn't have any. 

They walked back to George's apartment and just as they were passing a supermarket, Clay stopped. He turned to George with mischievous fire in his eyes.

George raised an eyebrow. "What are you thinking, Clay?"

"Supermarket."

"And?" George prompted.

"And why not blow some cash on bad food and weird shit? And ride around in shopping carts? Supermarkets are fun, George!"

George laughed. "I had no idea you were so passionate about supermarkets."

Clay simply smiled and took George by the hand, pulling him through the doors. 

The two spent nearly an hour running around the lanes and looking for weird candy, although it was far harder, as the store was healthier than many American grocery stores. They were still able to discover some strange food. They paid and walked home, laughing.

--

George closed the door and set the bags on the kitchen counter. A moment later Clay seized his hands and laughed, pulling George towards the living room.

"It's so weird," Clay said, "I feel fucking ecstatic for going to a supermarket with you."

George blushed a little, "you're insane."

Clay giggled and then wheezed, falling onto the couch and bringing George with him in his fit of laughter. George had started laughing too, Clay's wheezing was always infectious and he always made George join in laughing. 

As they were both calming down they slowly realized the position they were in; George on top of Clay, fingers intertwined and faces close together. George's breath caught and his face flushed but he couldn't bring himself to move. He didn't want to call attention to the situation in fear that it would stop. Clay noticed then too, blood rushed to his cheeks and his last chuckles died.

Clay untangled their hands slowly, but he didn't dare speak, didn't dare break the thick tension. George's mouth started to twist down in disappointment before falling open in surprise when he felt Clay gently cup his cheek. They sat for a moment, George's eyes flicking down to Clay's hand and back up to his eyes, Clay going between George's lips and eyes. And then, so gradually, so tediously as if time was slowing for them to linger at the moment, their faces came together. George's head tilted and hand moved to linger near Clay's jaw, Clay's thumb caressed George's cheek and his other hand rested on his hip. Just as their lips were touching, George's phone rang.

George launched himself nearly halfway across the room from Clay. Panting and blushing he reached for his phone. It was his mom. He laughed a little when an obvious thought popped into his head. 

Cockblock.