George stood in front of the mirror. Whether it was his lack of a reasonable sleep schedule or the overhead lighting in the bathroom, he wasn't sure, but the bags under his eyes seemed even more prominent.
He considered where to start. Half an hour seemed like an awfully short period of time to freshen up for a date. Maybe Clay was just eager to see Rose. His heart twinged with pain at the thought.
He turned on the tap, letting the cold water run over his fingers while he waited for it to heat up a little more. When he was satisfied, he cupped some in his hands and splashed it against his face. The sudden cold was unpleasant, but helped to snap him out of the haze he'd caught himself wrapped up in since Clay's arrival.
His thoughts wandered all over the place while he brushed his teeth. Who would this guy he was being set up with like? Would he actually be able to maintain a healthy and lasting relationship alongside his burning passion for his friend? Or maybe the new guy would be his new coping mechanism. He doubted it would happen, but there was still a sliver of hope that his date would sweep him off his feet with his charm and looks.
He rinsed his mouth out and turned off the tap. The sounds of a suitcase zipper were coming from the living room, indicating that Clay was looking for a suitable outfit.
George wiped his hands dry on the towel hanging next to the sink and headed to the living room. His assumption was right - Clay had been looking for clothes, and now he was standing in the middle of the room, naked from the waist up.
"I... Uh..." George stammered, trying to collect himself so he could say something instead of random garbled sounds. "D-Do you have any, um, clothes? To wear?"
Clay held up a random hoodie. "Well, the place we're going to is pretty casual, so I'm just gonna wear something comfortable."
George nodded, face flushing as Clay turned away and continued to rummage in his suitcase. He slinked away to his bedroom, legs feeling like jelly.
He let out a breath as soon as he shut the door behind him. It was going to be even harder ignoring his feelings now that he'd seen just how good Clay looked. And Rose had seen him first. The newfound sense of possessiveness over his friend was strange - it flared up whenever he thought of his friend's date.
He threw on a random band tee and changed out his sweatpants for a clean pair of pants. He looked at the pile of shoes near the door, but none of them really caught his eye. A sudden knock on the door made him jump, but he managed to collect himself just as the door creaked open.
"Hey George." Clay poked his head in. "You ready?"
George made a mental note of everything he had needed to do. Most of the things on the list seemed to be checked off, except for the shoes.
"I can't pick which shoes to wear." George sighed, kicking over one of the winter boots in the corner with the tip of his foot.
Clay fully emerged from behind the door, standing beside George to take a look at the selection.
"I think the converse would look pretty cool with the band t-shirt."
George leaned down, grabbing the pair of black converse he hadn't worn for months, sliding one of them on.
"Jeez, why don't I ever wear these? They're so comfortable!" He slipped the second shoe on, standing up. "And make me look like I'm 17."
Clay laughed. "I think it looks nice." He opened the door wide enough for both of them to fit through. "They're on their way."
They headed downstairs out into the open. The blinding rays of the morning sun immediately hit George's eyes, making him squint and attempt to shield his eyes from the light that seemed to be coming from everywhere. Clay seemed amused at his friend's standoff against the sun, but he angled himself so George could walk in his shade.
They walked together mostly in silence, with Clay occasionally remarking on new stores and restaurants he hadn't noticed yet.
Finally, they arrived at a cute little diner. Clay didn't seem to notice George stopping in his tracks upon seeing the building, continuing on up ahead.
Meanwhile, George felt time freeze around him as he took in the sight. Reality seemed to be playing a cruel joke on him. No matter how many times he blinked, everything was still there. Not to forget the fact that he was supposed to spend a few hours around this place.
This was the diner he and Stephen had broken up in. Or rather, the diner Stephen had brutally dumped him in. He had made himself believe they'd gotten separated on somewhat good terms, but seeing the spot caused the painful memories to rush back to him. Memories that he had worked so hard to forget.
He must have been gawking, since Clay had approached him with a mixed look of concern and confusement on his face. "Hey man, you good?" A hand touched his shoulder.
George felt a little shaken up, but nothing too major. He tried to stop himself from turning around and running back to the apartment like a coward, hanging on the thread of hope that he would make new memories there that day. Preferably ones so good that they'd make him forget all about what he'd gone through nearly a year ago.
"I'm fine, Clay." He brushed the imposing thoughts off. "Just... admiring... this fine establishment."
Clay didn't seem to buy the excuse, but he got distracted by a girl jumping on him from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck and excitedly squealing. George tried his best not to look grimace and waited until she was done "greeting" his friend so that he could introduce himself.
"Hey guys!" She untangled her arms from Clay, finally, George thought. "My friend's running a little late, but he said we should go inside and order while we wait."
George shook her hand, introducing himself by his first name. Rose seemed to know already, but she politely smiled as she returned the gesture.
George lugged behind as Clay and Rose walked ahead hand in hand, grabbing an empty table. They sat down next to each other, leaving two empty seats across from them for George and his date who had yet to arrive.
Even with the close proximity they were sitting in, Rose seemed dissatisfied, scooting closer with a scrape of her chair that made George cringe. She was all hands, cooing and sweet talking Clay. She stopped for a while when the waitress arrived and they placed their orders, but soon George had to endure the public display of affection on the man he had been yearning for for ages yet again.
He was scrolling through social media on his phone in an attempt to avert his eyes when the lively chit chat across from him stopped. Rose jumped up from the chair with her face lit up.
"Stephen!" She exclaimed, rushing over to greet her friend.
George slowly stood up and turned around.
Stephen.
Stephen walking over to them.
The Stephen that broke up with him in this very diner.
The Stephen he had almost slept with while fantasizing about his best friend.
And he was George's date?!
He was rooted in place as Stephen hugged Rose and stood in front of the table, holding out his hand. George absentmindedly shook it, still in denial about who had just showed up.
Stephen had a picture perfect smile plastered across his face. "Nice to meet you, George. Rose has told me all about you." The emphasis he put on the word 'all' gave George a sinking feeling in his gut.
Clay got up to greet Stephen as well.
"And Clay!" They shook hands. "I've heard your name a lot." He glanced at George as he said that, but no one except George seemed to notice his ill intent masked as a harmless remark.
They all returned to their former seats, Stephen pulling out a chair next to George. He was pretending as if this had been their first encounter, peppering in small stories and charming jokes here and there. Gradually, the pairs branched off into their own conversations. Stephen turned to George, leaning his cheek on the knuckles of one of his hands.
"So George... Clay's your best friend, huh?" He gave a sly smile as he continued. "I'd been wondering who he was ever since our little... incident. Does he know?"
All the color had drained from George's face at this point. The blood froze in his veins, the malicious look on Stephen's face making him shudder. His eyes bore into George's skull, drilling a hole in his head. Stephen pretended to be unaware of the effect the small question had had on his companion.
"Ah... So he doesn't. Would make a great conversation starter, wouldn't it?" Stephen finally took his intense stare off him as their food was placed on the table.
Everyone dug in, except for George whose eyes were glued to the table. He looked up at the couple sitting across from him. Rose was stealing bites of food off of Clay's plate and then feeding him with her fork. The sight made him mentally gag. His friend seemed like he was having fun, though, so he tried to drown the feelings out.
Stephen spoke up. "So, George. What'd you do when you moved here?" He took a bite and waited for an answer while he chewed with a smirk on his face.
George gave a tense laugh. "Oh, you know." He doubted Stephen was actually interested in the answer. He probably knew damn well what George had been up to. All the eyes around the table were on him, though, so he continued. "Exploring the area. Nice place."
Stephen didn't seem satisfied with the vague answer. "Say, George... Which places did you discover these last few months of exploring?"
Stephen was definitely out to get him. Of course he didn't know any actual spots, since he'd been frequenting the night club and binge drinking in all his free time. Stephen seemed to sense his discomfort, eyes burning with a raw, predatory fire, like a shark that had smelled blood in its domain.
George had to answer, though. He tried to recall any names he'd seen on signs on the way over to the diner.
"Well, there's this family restaurant that I went to when I was new to the area." He took a sip to buy himself some time. "Great pancakes."
Clay chimed in. "And that night club! Near your apartment. Looked fun."
George hoped it wouldn't have been brought up, but Clay was just trying to help.
George nodded. "Ah, right. I went there a couple of times." A severe understatement. But he wasn't about to admit he had been a regular at that place for two whole months to the people around the table.
"Anywhere else?" Stephen tilted his head, prompting him to continue. "Any friends that you met while you were out and about?"
George forced himself to smile. "No, not really." He knew exactly which incident Stephen had referenced by that question.
He glanced at the time on his phone, only to find they'd only been at the diner for twenty minutes. This was going to be a long day.
__________
-POV CHANGE-
Clay was having fun. Or at least, pretending to have fun. He wasn't entirely sure who he was putting a show on for, though he had a slight idea. He stole quick glances at George and his date in between the kisses Rose was so persistently asking for.
She was a really pretty girl, but Clay felt as if he didn't have the emotional capacity to like her - he'd been mentally drained since he'd found George pressed up against the alley walls behind that club, even if he didn't like to admit it to himself.
Stephen was murmuring things in his friend's ear that he couldn't quite hear. It sounded like a joke, though, judging by the way Stephen couldn't hide his giddiness while talking.
He looked back at Rose who was staring up at him with a sweet smile, holding out a forkful of food and hovering it near Clay's mouth. He accepted it, savoring the hot bite. He almost choked on the mouthful when a shrill scraping noise sounded throughout the dining hall. He took a moment to realize the source had been George's chair - hastily pulled away from the table as he'd jumped up. He was now towering over Stephen, glowering at him with pure unfiltered rage. He shut his eyes, trying to compose himself.
"I can't do this anymore." His voice was trembling, threatening to break. The commotion had drawn a few curious looks from the tables around them. "I know you have it out for me, Stephen, but the least you could do was just keep your fucking mouth shut! I'm done."
He kicked the chair to the side, storming out of the building. Clay looked at Rose apologetically before he shot up from his seat and darted out after his friend.
He looked around, spotting George ducking into an alley. Clay sped up his pace in an attempt to close the distance between them. He turned the corner, heading into the narrow gap he'd seen George disappear through a moment ago. Upon spotting him, he slowly approached, trying not to make his presence too imposing.
"What was that?" He asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
George stayed silent, his downcast gaze not once faltering.
"George. What happened back there?"
George shifted, still avoiding eye contact. "If you followed me to tell me how I embarrassed you, leave me alone, Clay." His words were dripping with venom, the impact of his sharp tone hanging in the air. He sighed. "I just... It's not easy for me, sharing a table with Stephen, you know. We go way back."
The untamed curiosity must've been evident in Clay's eyes, since George continued. "We used to date, actually. For a long time." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "And I'm pretty sure he picked that diner to spite me. He... broke up with me right there a year ago."
Clay was dumbstruck. Given how George had acted around Stephen, he figured it was just first date nerves behind the demeanor rather than god knows how many years of troubling history.
"George..." His voice was soft, melting away his friend's hard set jaw and stiff posture. "Why didn't you tell me?"
George wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering. "I dunno. I guess I just wanted you to have a good time with Rose." He finally lifted his head, leveling his gaze with Clay's. "And I'm sorry I haven't been that supportive about you two. It's just... It's hard for me to see you with her, Clay. Really hard."
It took Clay a little while to comprehend what that meant, letting out a small 'oh' once the realization hit. He looked at the man standing in front of him, suddenly looking so small. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. George leaned his forehead against his shoulder, leaning into the embrace. Clay ran his fingers up his friend's neck and through the short hair on the back of his head, combing his fingers through the soft strands.
Soft rays of sun were shining through the foliage crawling along the netted roofing above them, bathing the two in warm golden hues.
George looked up with soft brown eyes. At that moment, Clay felt everything that he didn't when he looked at Rose. He felt a warmth pooling inside of him that he hadn't experienced before. He cupped either side of George's face in his hands, gazing at him with a soft look in his eyes.
The man facing up at him looked so... vulnerable. Like his eyes were masking a dozen different emotions. He raised his hand, placing it on Clay's cheek. It felt warm and soft, making the spot it touched tingle.
Clay leaned down. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he just closed the distance. George had basically admitted to being jealous of Rose, so maybe he wanted it to happen as well.
A shout of Clay's name jolted them away. Then a pair of quick footsteps on the pavement. Their companions had probably followed them out and were looking for them.
George cleared his throat. He was flushed, averting his gaze. Clay wasn't any more composed than him - his face was burning, and he already missed the caring palm on his cheek.
Rose and Stephen darted into the alley. Now that Clay was aware of what had happened, Stephen's concerned expression seemed much more obviously fake. He couldn't help but be angry at himself for not having seen it before.
"Are you guys okay?" Rose leaned over with her hands on her knees, desperately trying to catch her breath. She straightened after a while. "You had us so worried!"
Stephen walked over, holding out his arm to George. "Come on, you can talk to me about it. Let's go someplace more quiet."
Clay stood in front of George, creating distance between his friend and Stephen. "I don't think he wants to go anywhere right now, buddy." The sudden harsh tone made Rose raise an eyebrow. "And Rose, I'll catch up with you later. The dinner's already paid for."
Rose, however, didn't budge. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain what's going on." She stubbornly crossed her arms, gaze flickering between Clay and George. "You two had us worried sick! Darting off without explanation like that..."
Clay walked over to Rose, placing his hands on her shoulders. She seemed to soften at the touch. He, however, didn't feel anything like he had when he held George. He'd been in a similar position a moment ago. Back then, a million different things had been swirling around in his head, he had felt intoxicated and dizzy. But now, he was feeling absolutely nothing.
"Listen. I'm sorry, alright?" Clay tried not to move back as Rose pulled up his hands to her face and leaned into the touch. "George looks pretty shaken up. I'll call you later."
Rose seemed to understand, giving a small nod. Clay withdrew his hands, returning to George's side. Stephen followed Rose out of the alley with a last distasteful look over his shoulder.
Clay turned to George who seemed a lot more relaxed, albeit still a little shy from their little display of affection. Even though nothing major had happened, Clay felt joy bubbling up inside him, like an elementary school boy who held hands with his crush during recess. It was sweet, it was new, and it was innocent.
"So, whaddya say, wanna head back?" Clay felt beat, and wanted nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep. Apparently, George felt the same, since he nodded and followed behind as Clay stepped out of the alley.