Chapter 33 - It's fine. It's not weird.

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George asked Nick once more if he could stay, but Nick shook his head.

"I've got school starting up soon. Also, my mom misses me."

Right before Nick walked to security, he patted the top of your head. You tried not to tear up, though you didn't know where the tears were coming from. Why were you getting so emotional? In all fairness, Nick had proved to be a great friend over the last week and a half, and was definitely the funniest person you'd ever met. Without him, you would not have had the guts to go after Clay. He definitely pushed you toward the blond, which was much needed.

The next week and a half...was going to be interesting. In all honesty, you felt a bit bad for George.

Back in the car, you sat in the backseat, head tipped back on the headrest. The sun was bright in the middle of the sky and George and Clay were speaking animatedly in the front seat. You tried not to pay too much attention to what they were talking about, as you knew most of it was going to go over your head.

You envied their friendship. All of their friendships, in fact, including Nick. They'd always had each other. They didn't need anyone else. You had friends, yes, but nothing that compared to the whole dumbassness that exuded from the boys and the forever-bond they had together.

You grinned and stared out of the window as the both of them shouted, either shouting at or to one another, you couldn't tell.

There was suddenly silence throughout the car, and you looked up curiously.

George was turned around in his seat, staring at you. Your eyes also locked with Clay's, which were looking at you from the rear view mirror. You glanced back and forth between them.

"What?" You asked.

They both erupted into laughter, a cacophony that you were surprisingly happy to hear. It'd been a while since they both laughed this hard together.

"Do you-" George laughed, but got interrupted by Clay laughing louder.

"Have you just been tuning us out, this whole time?" Clay wheezed.

Your eyes were wide, and you were afraid to answer. You nodded your head slowly once.

Clay hit the steering wheel with one hand, laughing still.

"We were talking to you," George said. "Or, I guess, at you, for the last few minutes,"

"I assumed it was something streaming related." You justified. "Y'know that I tune the two of you out most times you're talking to each other, right?" You asked.

They continued to laugh.

"Anyways, what were you saying?" You asked.

"We just wanted to know if you wanted to watch some Harry Potter tonight," Your brother said finally.

You grinned. "Of course,"

That night, you drummed your hands on the couch, waiting for Clay to start the next movie. George had retired to his room to sleep midway through the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth Harry Potter movie, so you were left in the downstairs movie room alone with Clay.

On your lap, Patches was curled up. She had been there for an hour by this point and had no intention of getting up. You were more than willing to accommodate her, as well, and stayed still for her.

Clay reached a hand over and scratched under her chin and the cat began purring. The hum reverberated through your legs and into your heart.

As you were staring at the feline, Clay tipped your chin up with a gentle raise of his hand and your eyes locked with his in the dark. Your lips met together in a soft kiss. Your kissing was definitely disturbing Patches' nap, and she stood up, stretching. You pulled away and tried to get her to stay but she protested and hopped away. You pouted and pulled away.

Patches stretched each limb as she climbed away, onto Clay's open lap. Your jaw dropped open in offense.

"I was enjoying a nice cuddle with her," You said.

He grinned. "Now she's cuddling with me. She's my cat."

You raised an eyebrow and he frowned.

"No," Clay said. "Nope." He booped your nose. "Patches is not coming home with you. I'm sorry. She's mine."

You stared at the cat. "We'll see," You said. You were going to at least try to put her in your suitcase on your last day in Florida. How that would go, only time could tell.

Patches eventually decided that even Clay's lap was not a worthy-enough throne, so she bounded out of the room. You heard the little pitter-patter of her feet on each step as she went up the stairs.

Clay clicked play and pulled you into him, positioning you to be cuddled under his arm, head on his chest. His arm was locked around you tightly, and you listened to the beating of his heart as you watched the movie together.

A blanket covered your cold legs, which had only been kept warm by Patches for the last hour. Clay used his other hand to trace little patterns into your freezing legs, but it only made the goosebumps that rose on your skin even more prominent.

You grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers with his. His thumb began caressing the back of your hand and you smiled.

Time spent like this, you knew, was going to be pretty rare pretty soon.

"I went to ask you a question this morning...but you weren't in your room," George said, the next day. You were tying your hair up, about to make breakfast. "You wake up early?"

Your lips pursed in embarrassment and turned to look out the window, avoiding his gaze. He didn't know by now?

"I've been...sleeping in Clay's room. For the last few days."

"I-" George tipped his head to the side. "Oh," He said simply.

You huffed, "I know it's still weird for you-"

"No, no. It's fine. It's not weird. At all, I promise." George smiled, shaking his head. It was a tight grin that you read easily. He was lying. But, at least he was trying.

You could tell he was trying. He didn't glare at Clay every time he touched you anymore. He also ignored Clay kissing you in front of him a few times. Such growth, you thought.

A few hours later, you were sitting at the table, cutting into the expensive steak Clay bought for dinner. Clay approached the table, hands traveling from your neck, up into your hair. You abruptly dropped your knife and fork, which clattered against the glass plate loudly on accident. You quickly apologized and picked up the utensils.

Clay chuckled at your reaction to his touch and he pulled your hair away out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ears. You leaned back and looked up at him, matching his grin. You dropped your gaze back to your food and you continued to cut your food as Clay continued to play with your hair. You could feel his body pressed against your back, and you relaxed into his embrace.

Your thoughts were always on his hands, and how they felt caressing you and holding you. There was rarely a second that went by where he wasn't touching you in some way, like he was doing now.

"Aren't you hungry?" George asked Clay, still chewing.

Light pink dusted your cheeks. You forgot your brother was there.

"Oh, very," Clay said. He dipped his head down, tall frame dropping low to kiss the soft skin of your neck.

You reacted quickly, as soon as you felt his lips on your neck, and ducked out of his reach. "That's gross," You reminded him, for your brother's sake.

You didn't need to look back to know that Clay was probably rolling his eyes at you.

Then he pressed his lips to the top of your head before sitting down in his seat.

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