Clay was almost used to the aching pain that the lack of George caused. Almost. He'd told himself that the sooner he got used to it, the sooner he'd be able to think straight and figure out how to get to him again. He was certain he'd get used to it soon. That was until George messaged.
Keres had left shortly after fixing Clay's foundation, making sure he was alright to be alone. Clay had spent the majority of the evening wallowing and attempting to build the courage to message Darryl - he was the most likely to actually hear him out. He'd ended up falling asleep without doing much else, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. When he woke up, it was to the unique tone Clay associated with George's messages.
He watched as each message came through and decided that he very much was not used to the pain. Each one that came through felt like a punch directly to his lungs. Long after George had finished, Clay stayed staring at the conversation. He would be crying his heart out had he not drained himself of all his tears the night before.
Clay tapped on the picture, saving it. He traced his eyes around the outline of George's mesmerising brown ones, down his nose, lingering around his pink-lipped smile, to Clay's green hoodie, slowly past Clay's pendent hanging from George's neck, all the way to Bartholomew in his lap and back up again. Clay's skin itched with the sheer need to hold George again. He trembled as a memory resurfaced.
George and Clay laid on George's bed, Bartholomew on Clay's chest. He remembered dramatically cooing at the cat on his chest, just to hear George's fond giggles. George had looked as ethereal as the first night Clay had seen him, bathed in the glow of the morning sun and well-warmed with love. Clay pressed his fingers to his lips as if it'd help him remember the lingering kiss George had pressed to them better.
"Clay? Are you home?" A kind voice called out. Clay couldn't hold back the choked noise that escaped his throat. He heard as the front door closed and soft footsteps padded towards the room. Clay could count three sets of footsteps and the drop of his phone to the floor.
When Darryl turned the corner into Clay's sitting room, Clay was trembling. Darryl sighed and sat beside Clay, Zak sitting beside him and Vincent sitting on Clay's other side. They sat in silence, Clay curled in on himself with his head buried in his hands.
"Why are you all here?" Clay whispered hoarsely. After everything he'd said and done. He hadn't had the chance to be guilty about it properly with all that happened with Damien but he certainly was now. He'd said so much, not just about Vincent but about the whole band, that Vincent had no doubt told them.
Why did they still care when it was Clay who said that Zak was nothing but a loud mouthed, irritating, child? When it was Clay who called Vincent a good for nothing wannabe? When it was Clay who said he regretted ever saving Darryl in that bar? When it was Clay who said that this band had ruined his life?
"Because we're family, Clay." Vincent replied, solidly.
"And that's what family do." Zak said.
"They forgive each other and they're there for each other." Darryl finalised.
Clay's shoulders shook and sobs wracked his frame - apparently he hadn't run out of tears. Darryl sank to his knees and shuffled in front of Clay and Zak took his place beside him, he and Vincent both placing an arm around him. Darryl gently pulled at Clay's arms, noting the bandages around his fists. Once he'd pulled them far enough, Darryl shuffled forward and snaked his arms around Clay.
Clay wrapped his arms around Darryl's shoulders tightly, falling into his shoulder, and arched back minutely into Vincent and Zak's arms at the same time. The three boys huddled around him tighter as he choked, desperate to say what needed to be said.
"I didn't meant it." Clay repeatedly whispered, like a mantra, when he'd managed to work the words around the lump in his throat. "None of it, not a single word." Darryl shushed him softly.
"We know." Vincent told him. "We know, Clay, and we understand." He assured. "We just wish you'd talk to us." He pressed, gently. Nick had taught him that, generally, people react better if you speak gently over demanding them. That was before Damien had instructed them all to stop talking to George and for Vincent to stop talking to Nick, by extension.
"I don't want to stress you all out. This is- this is my job. I'm the lead." Clay croaked.
"I'm the oldest." Darryl stated in reply.
"I'm the youngest." Vincent continued.
"And I'm the coolest." Zak ended. Darryl giggled while Vincent rolled his eyes. Clay let out a watery laugh.
"Just because you're the lead, doesn't mean you have to take on all of the pressures and shelter us from it all. We're all adults, Clay. We can deal with the responsibilities of our jobs, too." Darryl reminded kindly. "We're a team, Clay. We're all in this together."
Zak groaned loudly. "If you start singing high school musical again then I'm breaking up with you." Vincent and Clay laughed as Darryl whined, moving one hand slightly to squeeze Zak's arm around Clay's back.
"Thank you, guys. I love you all so much." Clay said, pulling back and wiping his eyes with his forearms. Darryl smiled up at him from where he sat back on his heels.
"That's gay." Vincent chirped with a smirk. Zak and Clay laughed while Darryl gave him a disapproving look.
"So am I" Clay replied and Zak and Vincent laughed again.
"Me too." Darryl added, staring fondly at a giggling Zak.
"I guess I am as well." Zak replied sappily, returning Darryl's gaze.
"I think I might be a bit too." Vincent commented nonchalantly. The other three spun to look at him. Vincent waved it off with a flippant hand that really wasn't enough to make the others not incredibly curious. "We'll talk about that later. First, Damien."
Darryl visibly grimaced at the name, standing from the floor in front of Clay and plopping against Zak's side. Zak hummed, eagerly worming his way into Darryl's arms. Clay cooed as Darryl dropped a kiss to the crown of Zak's head.
"Darryl, why don't you take him and teach him to knife throw. You can just say you accidentally slipped, everyone will believe you." Vincent suggested, relaxing back against the couch. Clay and Zak nodded in agreement and Darryl giggled but shook his head in denial.
"Before we decide anything, what has he told everyone?" Darryl asked, deciding first to match their stories.
"I'm not allowed to talk to George because he's a distraction to Clay. Because I'm not allowed to talk to George, I'm not allowed to talk to Nick either." Vincent explained sourly. Darryl nodded sympathetically.
"It's about the same for me and Darry, we were told not to 'communicate with George or any of George's associates because he's inhibiting the band's progress'." Zak quoted in a mocking tone.
"I'm not allowed to talk to George, obviously. Damien wants me and Keres to have a contracted relationship. I agreed to keep it ambiguous to get him off my back but now I regret it because I can't explain myself to George and he's going to get the wrong idea, anyone would. Keres came over yesterday after Damien left because I was too scared to call any of you, I couldn't call George and she was the next person that came to mind," Clay listed.
"Wait, Damien was actually here?" Darryl asked, incredulous. The man never did anything in person that could be done over the phone or emails.
"Yeah. I wouldn't return his calls so he decided to just show up instead. Bastard." Clay replied. Darryl didn't scold him for his language because he was right.
"I made her promise she wouldn't repeat anything I said or judge me for it or use it against me and she promised. So I..." Clay paused. "I told her about George. At first she seemed shocked and... torn. But then she told me she'd been a fan of George since day one and that they were internet friends and that she didn't blame me for falling in love with him." Clay breathed.
"She said she'd keep it ambiguous too, if it would help me and George. Said she'd help me find a way to talk to George again. We thought about messaging him through her account because it's not connected to her but figured Damien would definitely find out. I was hoping he hadn't talked to you all yet but I should have known he would have." Darryl and Vincent nodded, Zak looked lost in thought. After a moment, he groaned and gave up, burrowing further into Darryl's chest.
"Well, at least we know that we've got Keres on our side. She seemed nice." Darryl tried to lighten the mood as Zak took one of his hands, playing with his fingers. Vincent and Clay hummed their agreement.
"We could meet with her later today try and think of something. The more brains the better." Vincent suggested and the other three nodded their approval.
"We'll find a way. For George." Zak said, stretching an arm out to be vaguely in the middle in front of them all.
"For George." Darryl echoed, placing his hand on top of Zak's.
"For George and Nick." Vincent added with a familiar fire on his tongue, adding his hand on top.
"For George and Nick."
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The boys are back Yeah the boys are back
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