Stuck With Me (Gream/DreamNotFound)

Epilogue

Clay rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans and checked his phone for the umpteenth time. The sound of his drumming heartbeat canceled out the sound of rolling suitcases, happy reunions, and even the whirring baggage claim beside him.

The sign above his head read that George's flight had already landed, and with each new wave of people that appeared from around the corner, he searched for the face that had become so familiar.

Clay checked his phone again, but the last text he had gotten from George was from ten hours ago, saying he was boarding the plane. He smiled stupidly wide at the message, receiving a few odd looks from passersby.

He couldn't believe he was about to meet George in real life, with nothing to come in between them. After George had stabbed him, to put it simply, he had felt Dream die. Clay himself had passed out from the pain, but had woken up back in his apartment after a strange conversation with two voices.

A new group of people came to collect their luggage and Clay looked up expectantly. His face fell after scanning through the crowd. George still wasn't there.

He looked back down at his phone before he felt a tap on his shoulder. No one was standing near him when he turned to see who it was, so he figured someone had accidentally bumped him. A few seconds later, there was a tap on his other shoulder.

This time he spun in a full circle to catch whoever it was, and when he completed the turn, George was standing in the space directly in front of him.

"George!" Clay shouted, even though they were mere inches apart, and wrapped him in a hug.

They stood, reunited at last, amid throngs of people bustling about. Clay didn't care about what any of them thought as all his focus was on the man in his arms. He inhaled the scent of George's cologne, his senses going wild. George's chest against his and arms around his neck and breath in his ear felt so right.

George lowered his heels back to the ground, having stood on his toes to reach over Clay's shoulders. Time seemed to slow as they looked into one another's eyes. Clay was utterly intoxicated by his soft features and adorable smile.

Sighing in contentment, George leaned back onto him, looping his arms around Clay's waist. "Your eyes are so pretty," he mumbled into his chest.

Clay's heart swelled so big, it felt like he was about to explode.

Unable to single out a specific thing to compliment George on in return, Clay changed the subject and led the way to the baggage carousel. "Let's get your suitcase and I can take you to the house. You're going to love it."

After George picked up his suitcase, they walked hand in hand to the large parking lot adjacent to the airport. Clay helped set the heavy suitcase into the trunk of his car, then walked to the driver's side, George following closely behind.

"Wow, what a gentleman," George laughed, and Clay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Opening the door for me."

Clay chuckled when it dawned on him what George was thinking. He opened the door with a sweeping gesture. "I was planning on driving, but by all means, go ahead."

George's face went red as he saw the steering wheel, and he trudged around the back of the car to climb in the passenger's side. He glowered at Clay, who could barely put the key into the ignition from how hard he was laughing.

"Shut up, I forgot American cars are backwards."

Clay pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive home. After chatting for a while, they lapsed into comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Clay could see George pull out his phone and frown.