Comfort in Silence // dnf

Value

"Help bring this to your guys' room. For George!" Nick said, pulling two plates into his own hand, and gesturing to the butter and syrup he had just pulled out. Clays eyebrows creased in confusion at his friends bubbly behavior, but he complied anyways, balancing the butter on top of his sling, and grabbing the syrup bottle with his free hand. 

They both made it back to Georges room to drop off the food that was prepared amateurly by Nick. 

"What is this?" He asked as a plate of food was set down onto his lap. "Pancakes!" Nick said looking at his masterpiece. 

"American pancakes..." George said, looking at the fluffy circles on his plate. He was used to the thin sheet like pancakes that they made back home. "You don't like them?" Nick said, his mood dropping.

"No, that's not it at all. I'm just confused why you Americans make them so thick." George said, picking one of the pancakes up with his fork. "Thank you though." he added, so that Nick wouldn't get sad. 

Nick smiled, setting down Clays plate for when he finally settled back in. 

"I'll go get mine so we can eat breakfast together. Since you two like to keep yourselves secluded in here for no reason." Nick didn't leave room for response before he hobbled out of the room to grab his own plate. 

"He seems excited." George said, grabbing the butter from Clays sling so he could smother it on the pancakes. Clay nodded, placing the syrup on the side table next to his own food. 

"Scoot." Clay said, trying to make enough space to sit down on the bed. George looked at him, but complied, shifting over as much as he could to make room. Clay plopped onto the bed, struggling to scoot over himself. 

They really were a pair. Weren't they.

"You know, I never pegged Sap for a chef, but these are actually edible." George said with a mouthful of the pancake. Clay looked over as his friend prepared another bite, even though he hadn't even finished the one in his mouth. He chuckled a bit, going back to his own plate, and picking up a slice of strawberry.

By now Nick was back, with his plate which was stacked high and ready to be drowned in syrup. Which he did, pouring a shit ton onto the stack. 

"That's disgusting." Clay said, watching as the sticky substance almost overflowed on the plate. "Okay Mr. Talkative. You eat your pancakes the way you want and I'll eat mine the way I want. Which just so happens to be covered in maple syrup." Nick clashed back.

"You know, you bring up a good point. Dream why have you been talking so much. Ever since we got out of the hospital you've been such a chatter box." George stated looking at Clay who was struggling with a fork in his left hand. He looked over, looking like a deer caught in headlights. They never questioned why he talked more or less before, this was new to him. 

"Uh..." He stalled, trying to figure out how to say it correctly. "Well, I'm comfortable with you guys and.."

"and its kind of hard to type and sign right now..." He explained, looking to see if they accepted his response. And they did, so he relaxed. "Its just so weird hearing you talk this much, especially after you were so quiet at the hospital. I like it though." George smiled, looking over at Clay. He had the faintest amount of blush on his face and a little smile to accompany it. 

Clay smiled back, and then immediately went back to his own plate of food. And continued to struggle with the fork.

"Here let me." George said, reaching for the plate. Clay looked at it, almost offended, but he let George grab the plate, and then the fork. George carefully cut the pancakes into little square pieces that would be easier to pick up with a fork.