Some nights, though he'd never admit to it, Clay would turn the air conditioning on just that little bit too high and leave it that way.

It seemed a silly thing to do - now he'd just be cold and he'd wake up to a frigid floor which is never nice - but Clay had his reasoning. And his reasoning happened to be the very man that had finally decided to leave the desk at some ungodly hour of the morning to join him in bed.

"Move." He'd murmured, poking at the cat that was currently in his spot curled against Clay's front. She begrudgingly stood, after poke became shove, and relocated herself behind Clay's slightly bent knees while George shuffled under the covers to press his back to Clay's chest. Clay simply smiled and wrapped his arms around George, burrowing his face in the back of his other half's neck.

"Have you seriously been in pyjamas all day?" He asked, tucking a hand beneath the ragged white shirt to splay against the warmth of George's stomach. His voice was void of mirth and warmed with drowsy fondness.

"They're comfortable." George defended loosely, tracing down Clay's arm in a feather-soft touch until he could lace their fingers together. He didn't bother moving their hands from his bare skin despite their chilled bite.

"They smell." Clay countered but made no move to shift away. If anything, he nosed closer against the trail of short hairs before him.

"You smell." George decided childishly and didn't bother fighting his smile as Clay's breath fanned across his shoulders from soft chuckles.

"Oh, come on." Clay had laughed out, squeezing George's fingers between his own. He needn't see George's face to know that he was smiling. "You love me though." He stated with a confidence learnt through time.

George hummed his agreement, allowing his eyes to fall closed. Clay decided he wasn't satisfied.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." He said, arms wrapping securely around George's waist and fingers beginning to dig into his sides. George staged a silent challenge, grabbing tight to Clay's wrists.

As George stayed silent, Clay attacked. He dug his fingers into George's sides, ribs, up under his armpits, anywhere that he knew the man was ticklish and George squirmed with laughter, praying the walls were thick enough to barricade the sound from rousing or bothering anyone else. He curled in on himself, grabbing helplessly at Clay's arms and Clay simply placed his chin on George's back, lips curled in amusement.

"Okay! Okay." George finally shrieked and Clay paused, hands hovering. "I love you." He murmured, voice light and airy with giggles, and it was all Clay could do to press his head between George's shoulder blades and grin.

"I love you too." Clay pressed the words into the fabric of George's shirt. "So much."

George shuffled and wriggled to turn and face his boyfriend in all of his sleep-worn and giddy glory.

It washed over him rather slowly - a kind and gentle realisation that trickled through his chest - just how very different the Clay before him was from the Dream he'd very first met.

The Dream he'd met had been amiable - a warm, bright and welcoming face - but ultimately unreachable in nature, regardless of how he attempted to be. This Clay, however, was vastly different.

He was soft around the edges, blurred with a domestic settlement; charming in every sense of the word but also endearingly clumsy, bashful and shy in his youth; genuine in his words, in his actions and in himself;
he'd also grown into his endless bravado and bravery in a way that suited him wonderfully and, finally, he was outstandingly radiant in a whole different way from the way he'd been on stage.

George had never met someone with such a quietly loud presence. Even without being so widely well know, George felt certain that Clay would capture attention and turn heads with his person alone - not with his looks but simply with who he was.

"I wish I'd practiced painting more." The comment came from seemingly nowhere and worked to prop Clay's eyes more firmly open. He hummed a questioning noise that rumbled from his chest up his throat.

"Why's that?" Neither noticed the way that George had curled his arms around Clay in order to trace constellations between the moles on Clay's back.

"I'd like to paint your smile." Clay felt a taught pull in his heart, a fire in his lungs and a flush all over. His skin burned something addictive as the breath left his chest in a shuddering rush. George really ought to give him a warning before saying something like that.

"I always forget you're an artist." The answer was weak and nervous but George seemed happy to pass it off with a soft scoff, allowing Clay a way out should he need it. "I can paint it for you." He then added, unravelling an arm to splay his fingers over George's chest. George hummed a disbelieving noise but smiled encouragingly none the less.

Clay drew back his hand and extended his first finger, holding it before George's face with a pompous expression. George giggled and nodded, allowing Clay to continue. He softly, surely, pressed the pad of his finger slightly left of the centre of George's chest. He then lifted it and moved slowly to the right side, pressing down once more. He clamped his teeth onto his bottom lip in order to hold back a grin as he brought his finger lower, beneath where he'd pressed first, and drew a long curve over to beneath where he'd pressed second.

George scoffed and rolled his eyes. It was all Clay needed to crumble into breathy laughter, rewrapping his arms tighter around George. "You're such an idiot." George mumbled and Clay decided that if George said it like that then he was ecstatic to be an idiot.

And, so you see, it wasn't silly at all for Clay to turn the air conditioning up because it meant that George would remain there, comfortably in his arms, all night long.

////:\\\\

@JeThrowMeAway
Clark asked me to go on his instagram to find something in his saved and I found instead that he has three folders dedicated to just frogs. They're all full of frog memes and pictures.
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retweets likes
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@luciddreamer
Ah, a man of culture I see
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@fleepfloop
mans let you in his ig? oh so he BRAVE brave
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@chiccennuggies
don't tease the poor boy, let him have his frogs if he wants them
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@JeThrowMeAway
I'm not teasing him, it's cute.
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retweets likes

////:\\\\

It came as no surprise that they each found themselves overtaken with nerves, to varying degrees, come the day beginning Damien's trial.

Zak spoke at length, words overlapping one another, about nothing and everything simply for the sake of burning off unnecessary jitters. Darryl stayed pressed to his side, half listening and half lost to his own thoughts, wringing his hands around one another absently.

Nick and Vincent kept to their own, knees bouncing, and attempted not to pace holes into the carpet. It'd only be a waste of energy.

George and Clay stood huddled closer than necessary but still not close enough, George chewing on his nails and Clay encouraging him to talk about his next video idea. Anything to keep them both occupied.

Geo hovered, buzzing from person to person in a feeble attempt to keep himself busy before pulling out his phone instead, thumbs tapping rapidly.

Ophelia and Keres placed themselves out of the way on the floor beside each other, practicing a calm and collected exterior in the way they held at the others shaking hands. Fingers laced, the trembling would calm.

Jethro sat eerily still alone, eyes clouded with a faraway look.

And Clark had gone quiet.

Not the endearing, drowsy quiet he went as the nights stretched on and he kept awake, nor the understanding, respectful kind of quiet he maintained when the moment calls.

No, this was more of an empty silence. Cold and hollow and sharp with ice.

The kind of tense silence after a finishing argument - thick with hurt and decision. Though, I suppose that's really the situation they were in. The eye of the storm - the calm between the finishing argument and the confrontation of ending it all.

"Phil's going to look after Auri for us." Selene's voice was a welcome break in the suffocating atmosphere. "While we're all in the courtroom." Clark nodded slowly, dragging himself back to reality.

"He's not coming with?" Selene's shook her head.

"He said he's talked to double trouble so he shouldn't be needed. He's not sure he'd really be allowed." She explained before dropping to an ever soft, quiet tone and placing a hand on Clark's sleeved forearm. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Clark took a rattling breath, turning to look over those in the room. They deserved their happiness.

They deserved their freedom.

"As I'll ever be."

////:\\\\

Idiot 1
[location sent]
8:12am
where is this?
8:12am

gang sign
I'm not your personal map, just google it
8:17am

Idiot 1
Please?
8:17am

gang sign
You know where drunkass ditch is?
8:23am

Idiot 1
by the play park or opposite ice skate lake?
8:23am

gang sign
Opposite ice skate lake
8:24am

Idiot 1
yea?
8:24am

gang sign
follow that road
8:25am

Idiot 1
ditch right or ditch left?
8:25am

gang sign
Ditch right, lake left
8:25am
Follow to the third field
8:26am
It's to the left front in that field
8:26am

Idiot 1
thank you so much
8:28am

gang sign
Yeah
8:28am
Why did you need it?
8:28am

Idiot 1
It's stupid
8:34am

gang sign
It's you, of course it's stupid
8:34am
Doesn't mean it's not important
8:36am

Idiot 1
mum said my uncle would wait there for me until it was safe for me to get to him
8:37am
guess I was kinda hoping for a house he might still be in
8:37am
it has been almost twelve years though
8:38am

gang sign
the map is from 2004
8:41am
maybe something was built after
8:41am

Idiot 1
thank you, Mega
8:49am

gang sign
You
8:49am
Called me the right name
8:49am

Idiot 1
you've earned it :)
8:50am

gang sign
What the fuck
8:55am

Idiot 1
:) <3
8:55am

gang sign
<3
9:56am
Don't let that get to your head
9:56am

Idiot 1
I absolutely will you just made my whole year and I will never let this go
9:56am
Seen

////:\\\\

Despite both age and appearance, the trio they'd hired were incredible in court.

Tommy - Big T had been dropped as they shifted further into the seriousness of the situation - knew well how to capture and hold a room. Voice loud but not in its usual, abrasive manner - it's reverberation was held more in the power woven around his words.

Tubbo - Big Law had equally been lost - was unwittingly intelligent with the way he brought out the exact information he was after. With the face of an angel and the guise of all-pure intentions, they were able to lull Damien and his defendant into a false sense of security and pull from them confession after confession.

And Techno. Techno was immovably strong and certain in his rebuttals and presentation of proof. While Damien struggled and clawed for purchase, any way to gain the upper hand, Techno shot and held him down at every twist and turn with a polished professionalism.

The way they worked was almost like a well-learnt dance. They weaved in between and around one another, knowing with unnerving accuracy when to speak and when to switch out to whichever of their partners would handle it better. They chose each beat in succession to bring forth the group in separation, beginning with Mrs Bosko and ending with Clark and Selene.

They'd called and countered, debated and deliberated, for what seemed an eternity, each nerve-wracking moment blending into one.

They just had to hope it was enough.

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2k words

I'm so sorry this chapter is so late, I attempted to make it a little longer to make up for it, but I managed to injure my left arm to the point where I couldn't move my hand properly and I'd burnt the fingers of my right hand the night before so typing was a little hard :[ I'm recovering quickly though!! I can move my left hand again, just slower than usual, and the burns on my right are only minor. It's nothing to worry about, just thought I'd explain myself a little :]

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours, Dandelion