Hitchhike//A DreamNotFound Fanfiction

17|Just As Intended|

Once the sun finally did set on the two lovebirds sitting along the bridge, George asked, “...So. What do we do now?” 

“Can’t you just live in the moment for once?” Clay shot back in a soft chuckle, his response lacking any sort of sharpness; only a teasing nature. “We don’t have to be anywhere, remember?” 

“I know, but it’s getting cold. And if we stay here too long, Wilbur might find us…” 

Clay fell into silence, his eyes staying locked onto the water below them; it stayed tranquil, a perfect mirror reflection of the stars above resting against the surface. He hummed in response as a signal that he was still listening before finally replying, “...I don’t know, then. Maybe if you said something about the gas being low before we entered ‘Nowhere-ville’ then maybe we would still be on the road.” 

“...Perhaps so, but what fun is that? To have plans go the right way?” George mocked.

“...Not much fun, I guess. But it’s also not going to be much fun if Wilbur finds us.” 

George slipped into his own quiet this time as his mind ran over possible courses of action. He bit his bottom lip in contemplation, swinging his legs back and forth in the air just in front of the bridge. He suggested in a murmur, “...Maybe we walk until we find a town? Somewhere with a hotel, I guess. I have money to pay for one, so it won’t be an issue…” 

“Of course you do, rich brat-” 

“Shut up!” George exclaimed, his words turning into an airy chuckle as he leaned forward to playfully slap Clay’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“I mean, it’s true. Both the rich, and the brat part. You can’t fault me for stating the obvious.” 

“I can fault you for being a moron,” George shot back, hopping up to his feet from the side of the bridge; he grabbed his suit overcoat from the railroad tracks. “Which is also true.” 

Clay rolled his eyes with a small giggle, finding the energy to stand to his own feet. He responded in a sarcastic reply, “...Wow, such a good comeback, angel. I’m shaking in my boots just because it got me so good.” 

George pushed Clay this time, exclaiming, “You’re so mean to me, and for what!?” 

Just as Clay stumbled back slightly from George’s push, he grabbed onto the brunette’s waist, pulling him along with his stumble. His lower back leaned against the somewhat-stable railing of the bridge, keeping the balance of both boys. George gasped against the action, his hands finding their place on top of Clay’s chest comfortably--in result, the brunette’s brown eyes widened with shock and contentment. He took a shaky breath as Clay bit his lip, watching as the blond’s eyes searched his face; for what, he didn’t know, but the suggestion still excited him. His heart picked up pace, throbbing against the drums of his ears like it’s own click track. 

“So. Are you going to let go of me or what?” George finally broke the air in an awkward tease. “We have places to go.” 

“I’m just… I’m just admiring you,” Clay responded with a smirk adorning his lips; he leaned forward just a tad, his nose resting against the side of George’s. Their breath mingled together just a mere inch away from each of their lips. “Admiring what’s mine…” 

“You’re possessive, you know that?” George questioned in a whisper, his eyebrows flicking upwards suggestively. “I don’t mind it, though.” 

Clay met the distance between the both of them, locking their lips together successfully. He hummed into the kiss when he felt George’s nimble hands pull him closer by the collar. Their lips moved passionately against the others, taking their sweet time to get the full experience out of the kiss. No second was wasted in it; they took it gratefully and with vigor.