green. dreamnotfound

50 first dates

time: 5 weeks to the end of junior year

george could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest. his clammy hands emerged from under the blanket he and his best friend were sharing to brush his chocolate brown hair out of his eyes.

i need a haircut, he thought. it'd been months since the last trim, and his mop and began to reach past the tip of his nose if he pulled it down far enough. he let the hand he had combed through his hair with fall to rest ontop of the heavy blanket, near his friend's.

friend. clay wasn't just a friend. he meant so much more to george than he'd ever know. whenever his eyes met the younger's, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he began to sweat in anticipation. he always felt like something would happen in those moments, something to confirm his feelings, but it never came to be. so, they remained friends. just friends. george was almost sure that's all they'd ever be.

his eyes flicked up to glance at him in the dim glow of the tv. their favorite movie, which they watched nearly every time they spent the night, 50 first dates, played at a quiet volume. the atmosphere was so serene, and to george it almost seemed romantic.

keyword: almost.

clay had yet to realize the older's pinkie crossed over his own, or those deep brown eyes peering up at him. clay had yet to realize much more than that. everything, all the hints george had thrown at him over the years, the blushing cheeks when their hands brushed together in the hallway, had flown straight over his head. clay was so unbelievably oblivious.

this frustrated george more than anything. surprisingly more so than his world history teacher, who could not stop assigning essays for the life of him. he wasn't one to get frustrated easily, but when he did, you wouldn't be able to tell.

"this part is so cheesy," clay whisper-laughed, turning his head to glance down at the older. "i love it." this, to george, was flirting. who in their right mind would look at someone the way clay's looking at him now, with a rom com in the background, and say something like that and claim not to have any sort of feelings for the other?

george knew better than to take it as flirting. there was no way clay meant it to sound that way. there was no way he liked him like that, or he would have done something by now.

yeah, he would've done something. hell, he acted more affectionate with nick than he did with him. if anything, he had a crush on their old friend.

god, how he missed nick. he was always the one george ran to when he couldn't go to clay. they always talked about clay, george's feelings for clay, and literally anything related to clay. nothing was off limits when he was with him. and venting like that really helped him to not drive himself insane.

so naturally, when nick left he did just that. the first month was so hard on george. he'd come so close to just coming out about it to clay, but stopped when he realized that if he scared him or made him uncomfortable, he'd be left alone. he didn't want to be alone. 

george tore his gaze away from the younger's. he didn't think he'd be able to keep it all bottled up anymore if he kept looking at him like that. like he loved him.

clay doesn't love you, george.

george knew that. he knew what would happen if he kept this going. he sunk back in his spot on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut after watching clay focus back on the tv.

he couldn't do this anymore.