But We're Not Normal

Awkward

George took mercy on Clay, instructing Clark to go bother Ophelia or Geo about taking him on the rest of the rollercoasters instead. If he was being honest, he had half expected Clay to find some way to back out but no, Clay had gone through with it.

Clay had ridden a rollercoaster for George, and that sounded awfully similar to a promise he'd made in the depths of the night, while blanketed over George's chest, to the backing beat of George's heart hammering. A promise that George had traced into Clay's skin with his fingertips in a touch so gentle and light, it was a wonder the words had managed to sear their way to Clay's heart.

George wondered whether Clay remembered it too. And, if he did, whether he remembered it as vividly as George did - whether it meant as much to him as it meant to George.

They needed to talk, George knew that, but a selfish part of him wanted to remain in this limbo for a little longer. The state in which they were more than just friends but less than conventional lovers. There were no expectations when what they were had no label.

But, equally, George wanted this confusion over. He wanted to know for certain that Clay was or wasn't his. And, he needed Clay to know the way in which all of this had effected him. He needed Clay to know to be patient, that he's still healing.

George took a deep breath before looking up to where Clay was sitting opposite him. They had decided to eat dinner out and stay for the light show before returning to the house.

George took a moment to simply admire him. He hadn't had the chance to take in the fact that Clay was right there in front of him - only ever a few arms lengths away at most - because of everything that had happened.

He looked good, despite it all. His hair was light with sun exposure and fell softly over his forehead. It was reaching the length Clay would usually claim was too long but George rather liked the way it framed his face with a golden glow that George half thought he was imagining. The soft red that had rimmed his eyes before was no where to be seen now, and George was glad for it. His foundation was now an even tone and George ignored the soft shade of disappointment he felt at not being able to see Clay's freckles. And his smile - George decided Clay's smile was possibly his favourite sight. It was wide and bright and entirely enrapturing in shape - the kind of smile that made you want to reciprocate it. Clay's presence in general made George want to smile, regardless of what was going on or what had happened. Being around Clay was addicting.

"Earth to George." Nick called, dragging out his name and waving a hand in front of George's face. "We've lost him to the simp nation again." He sighed dramatically and George rolled his eyes, batting Nick's hand away from him.

"Says you." George grumbled, eager to shift the attention from him and his pink tipped ears. He could feel Clay looking at him from across the table and tried his hardest not to return it. He failed, but the effort was still there regardless.

When George looked over, Clay smiled something small and private - a smile intended only for George. And, really, was anyone expected George not to return it?

The moment was soft and warm for a while before George's smile turned sour. "Can I talk to you when we get back?" George asked carefully and Clay sobered some, nodding.

"Of course." He replied. It looked as though Clay was going to add something - maybe assure George that he can always talk to him or maybe ask what George wanted to talk to him about - but then the food arrived and the moment was over as soon as it had begun.