It was relatively quiet now at Clay and George's.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, really, since it was only them in the house once more. Nick and Vincent had gone home, the same with Zak and Darryl, and Geo and Ophelia were staying with Keres - they weren't all that certain where Jethro was staying but it wouldn't come as a surprise if they discovered that he'd managed to find a way to spend the nights with Clark alongside the days.

There was work to be doing, as there always was, while all were recovering and preparing for the court case. Sifting through what they'd found in Damien's office was top priority at the moment but that task had been divvied up between the rest of the group - it had been insisted upon that Clay, George, Clark and Jethro deserved a break, much to their guilt.

But, despite their guilt, they took the opportunity with open arms. Clark less so - he was more forced by circumstance - but he still agreed anyways.

It was rather nice, actually. George found that he didn't really mind being idle and it didn't seem that Clay did either.

He'd streamed for a bit to pass the time, Clay making his presence known in the back every now and again and even sitting in for a little while as George practiced speed running. They had to answer a few questions, some uncomfortable donations, but overall it seemed the consensus was to leave George, Clay and everyone else to come out about what happened in their own time.

Once they'd exhausted the idea of streaming, George signed off but remained at Clay's desk with the man in question at his side. Clay had started writing towards the end of the stream - editing a new song most likely - and George was more than happy to stay quiet at his side, scrolling casually through twitter.

It was moments like this that George felt he'd never take for granted; being able to simply sit in one another's presence, Clay's free hand making its way to link absently with George's as he hummed a line over in his head before dipping to adjust it.

It was rather funny, really, when George scrolled past a head cannon that said that, because Clay and George had opposing dominant hands, they could hold on to one another without disrupting their own work. It was all rather cheesy, all rather funny and all very gay but George figured that's exactly what the two of them were.

Midday rolled around slowly, though neither minded the days passing so sluggish, and George switched off his phone and stood with a stretch, fully intending to go make something to eat for the two of them.

He was surprised, however, when Clay kept their fingers tangled.

He obviously held no intent of standing and joining George in the kitchen; he was still hunched over his notebook with his eyebrows scrunched. George would even hazard a guess that Clay hadn't realised he'd stood, the concentration on the blond's face much too strong and certain.

"I need to go make food, Clay." George stated with a soft, amused lilt to his voice. That was wiped, however, when George, for once, noticed the flash of disappointment in Clay's face.

Clay righted himself quickly and turned to look up at George with a small smile but it was too late, George had already seen.

Clay had expected George teasing him; had expected George laughing, calling him clingy, maybe even getting a "you're so stupid" said through smiling lips and then having George drop his hand and wander off to the kitchen.

He hadn't expected George to softly squeeze his fingers, run a thumb over his knuckles and ask, in possibly the softest tone Clay had ever heard "You want me to stay?"

Clay felt too childish admitting that yes, he really did so instead he put on his big boy smile and shook his head no. "It's okay, go get food."

George was about to let it go, to detangle their fingers and make his way to the kitchen, before deciding that he wasn't all that hungry anyways.

To Clay's surprise, he dropped back into his chair and rested their clasped hands on the desk, waking his monitor with the shake of his mouse - who ever actually shut down their monitor when not using it? - and shifted to begin editing again. Clay watched him for a moment with a soft shade of surprise before smiling wide, squeezing George's fingers and turning back to his notebook.

As George squeezed back, Clay traced his pencil over those same six words with a burning certainty in his chest, highlighting them darker and biting a lip to suppress his smile.

It didn't work but George rather liked the look of it, especially complimented by pink tinted ears.

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@autumn.yearner
The amount of messages and comments I've had,,,,,, y'all are too kind to me, I fucking love you lot ❤️

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retweets      likes
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@fleepfloop
Clark appreciation <3 (if your father mysteriously disappears, don't look at me)
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@luciddreamer
We love you too, buddy (but if you put yourself in harms way one more time, I will kill you)
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@BadBoyHalo
Language >_> and we love you too!
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     @autumn.yearner
     I muffining love you lot*
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     retweets      likes

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They did, eventually, have to leave the desk and eat something substantial at some point. Clay's stomach had started protesting loudly, to the point where George would giggle at each growl, so he reluctantly closed his notebook and resigned to returning to it later on. George joined him as quickly as he could, saving his progress and setting his monitor into sleep mode.

Something entirely surprising but also not surprising at all was the way Clay and George worked so seamlessly with and around one another despite how recently they'd begun sharing a space.

An outsider may be concerned had they heard how little Clay and George had talked outside of the stream but it was simply because they didn't need to. They knew each other well enough that it felt silly to waste words on communicating things that a simple look or the brush of fingers against an arm or base of the back would do the job just as well.

Clay had clicked on the radio to fill the silence as they moved. Every now and again, he'd hum along or even shoot his shot at singing a familiar chorus and George would smile or laugh or tell him to shut up if he didn't know the words.

Every now and again, George would begin dancing.

Clay didn't think George even knew he was doing it - the gentle sway of his hips, the bounce of knees or even the shimmying of shoulders - and that only served to charm him all the more.

It was a matter of waiting for the two when the song came on.

Oh how very familiar. Clay let a smile pull at his lips, having noticed and remembered first, and he watched for George's reaction. He watched to see whether George would realise and recall.

He did.

"Dance with me, Georgie." Clay echoed once George had glanced to him with the tiniest of smiles. George rolled his eyes but Clay noticed the way he shifted to face him minutely.

Clay advanced and George familiarly pulled his hands up in a surrender. Clay took them, pulling them towards himself and beginning to dance, bending slightly and mouthing the words to George, noses close.

George let himself be pulled, smiling at his stupidly pretty boyfriend mouthing the wrong words to a slow song in that stupidly pretty way he always did.

He relented quicker than the first time - when Clay had first ever visited George and forced them to slow dance in the kitchen to this very same song - stepping close, keeping one set of hands clasped and bringing the other to rest on Clay's shoulder. He smiled and pushed his cheek to Clay's chest, listening to the man's heartbeat and relaxing against him.

Clay smiled something giddy as he trailed his spare arm to wrap around George's waist, rocking them together gently until long after the song had moved on.

"This is really gay." George quipped once he was certain Clay's heart had stopped hammering. Clay dissolved into breathless wheezes, leaning heavily on a grinning, giggly George.

"Yeah." Clay agreed once he'd calmed marginally, bringing a hand up to cup George's jaw and kissing him slow and sweet. George hummed, covering Clay's hand with his own. He tilted his head and tipped his minutely to press in warmer and Clay sighed in content.

And if they burnt their food, much too busy exchanging long, soft kisses, then that was for them to know and for no one else to find out.

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1.5k words

Anyone else forget that this was originally a Dreamnotfound exclusive storyline? Oops.

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours, Dandelion