FEELINGS | Dream & Georgenotfound

Afraid

George moved over to the sofa, with Clay joining him.

"Are you hungry?" Clay asked.

"Not really."

"You sure? It's like," he quickly checked his phone, "almost 2 pm" Clay giggled, "I guess we slept in."

George smiled, "Yeah but, I'm fine. You can make yourself something to eat if you want."

"Hm, I'm thinking french toast." Clay hopped off the couch and walked into the kitchen, "I'll just make you some anyway," Clay said as he searched through the cabinets.  

"Thank you."

"Yeah!" Clay turned and looked at George momentarily, catching a glimpse of his fuzzy, messy hair. 

You're so fucking adorable.

Clay went about and started preparing breakfast. The tv from the living room blared George's favorite show. He couldn't help but sneakily catch glimpses of George periodically sipping on his coffee.

One of his favorite times of the day was being able to sleep with George everynight, especially when he got the chance to feel his soft skin against his. He often stayed awake until he heard George fall asleep, always smiling had he listened to his quiet snores. He fit perfectly in between Clay's arms, like a piece to a missing puzzle.

But every so often he would catch himself indulging. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like if he made love to George. The thought of their bodies pressed against one another, moving his hands down his small frame and giving him all of his love was electrifying. He wondered how he would react to his kisses, what his soft moans would sound like together.

He could only imagine what his soft, pink lips would taste like.

Clay closed his eyes, trying to brush off those embarrassing thoughts.

Although, daydreaming about making love to George was most likely the closest thing he would ever experience something like that. Because there was no way anything like that would happen. Dreams exist to distract people from reality, to blind the possible outcomes and possibilities that one might find painful to endure.

Just like confessing your love to someone.

Clay plated the food and brought it over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table.

"Thank you." George smiled.

"Do you want anything else?" Clay asked.

"No I'm good."

They both turned and looked at the tv, starting to eat their food. Moments like these is what he cherished the most, especially being so busy lately going out and seeing the U.K. every other day.

Not that it was becoming boring, he wished it was different than what it was right now. He wished he was his boyfriend. So instead of sitting next to each other eating french toast as friends, maybe they could eat french toast together as boyfriends.

Clay felt his face grow red.

After watching a couple of episodes of the show that blared on the tv, Clay took the plates and washed up in the kitchen. He made his way over to the living room and plopped onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh as he hit the cushion.

"Can I ask you something?" George suddenly asked.

Clay got up and looked at George. His face turned cold, becoming hard to read.

"Yeah?"

George ran his fingers through his messy hair and looked down, "Um, have you been seeing the stuff online?"