Behind Closed Doors || dnf

George & The Uniform Pt. 2

Clay walks into history, the class he's been waiting for all day.

George is already in his seat, his head on his desk. His jacket is tied around his waist, attempting to cover any bare skin.

A smile creeps onto Clay's face. His reaction to George in a skirt will never get old.

Clay moves through the room, and throws his backpack on a desk right next to George.

"Hey!" The small boy in the desk whines. "This is my seat!"

"Not anymore." Clay places his hand on the desk, leaning his weight onto it. He looks down at the kid and gestures with his head, ordering him to move.

The kid grabs his backpack and slides out of the seat, moving as far away as possible.

Clay smiles proudly and turns his head towards George, seeing if he noticed.

"What are you doing?" George still has his arms wrapped around his head, his voice muffled.

"Sitting by you." Clay sits down, turning his chair towards George.

"Why?"

"I dunno..." Clay teases. "Something's different about you today. But I can't seem to place what it is..."

George lifts his head up just enough so his eyes are visible. He scowls.

Clay leans forward so he's eye level with the brunette. "You know your face is gonna stay like that if you keep making it." His voice is low and secretive.

George lets out an annoyed sigh, sitting up. "Leave me alone." He looks forward.

Clay turns his chair forward. "No fun." He says with a hidden smile.

"Good afternoon, class! I hope everybody is having a great day." The teacher makes her way to the front of the class. "Especially since it's Presentation Day!" She sings. "Now, three groups are assigned to go today. Who would like to go first?"

Clay side eyes George.

George's eyes widen. "Don't you-"

"George wants us to go first!" Clay says, his voice confident.

The teacher raises her eyebrows. "Is that so?"

Clay looks to George, bringing everyone's attention with him.

George clenches his jaw. "Yes, if that's okay." He says between his teeth.

"Of course! Get on up here!" She smiles brightly, walking to her desk.

Without a beat to spare, Clay stands up. He looks over to George, who is still glued to his seat.

"Cmon, we have to go at some point." Clay whispers, smiling.

George pushes his hair off of his forehead, and stands up. His jacket tied loosely around his waist.

They begin to walk to the front of the class, Clay leading.

"I hate you." George quickly whispers into Clay's neck, sending unexpected chills down his spine.