George took mercy on Clay, instructing Clark to go bother Ophelia or Geo about taking him on the rest of the rollercoasters instead. If he was being honest, he had half expected Clay to find some way to back out but no, Clay had gone through with it.

Clay had ridden a rollercoaster for George, and that sounded awfully similar to a promise he'd made in the depths of the night, while blanketed over George's chest, to the backing beat of George's heart hammering. A promise that George had traced into Clay's skin with his fingertips in a touch so gentle and light, it was a wonder the words had managed to sear their way to Clay's heart.

George wondered whether Clay remembered it too. And, if he did, whether he remembered it as vividly as George did - whether it meant as much to him as it meant to George.

They needed to talk, George knew that, but a selfish part of him wanted to remain in this limbo for a little longer. The state in which they were more than just friends but less than conventional lovers. There were no expectations when what they were had no label.

But, equally, George wanted this confusion over. He wanted to know for certain that Clay was or wasn't his. And, he needed Clay to know the way in which all of this had effected him. He needed Clay to know to be patient, that he's still healing.

George took a deep breath before looking up to where Clay was sitting opposite him. They had decided to eat dinner out and stay for the light show before returning to the house.

George took a moment to simply admire him. He hadn't had the chance to take in the fact that Clay was right there in front of him - only ever a few arms lengths away at most - because of everything that had happened.

He looked good, despite it all. His hair was light with sun exposure and fell softly over his forehead. It was reaching the length Clay would usually claim was too long but George rather liked the way it framed his face with a golden glow that George half thought he was imagining. The soft red that had rimmed his eyes before was no where to be seen now, and George was glad for it. His foundation was now an even tone and George ignored the soft shade of disappointment he felt at not being able to see Clay's freckles. And his smile - George decided Clay's smile was possibly his favourite sight. It was wide and bright and entirely enrapturing in shape - the kind of smile that made you want to reciprocate it. Clay's presence in general made George want to smile, regardless of what was going on or what had happened. Being around Clay was addicting.

"Earth to George." Nick called, dragging out his name and waving a hand in front of George's face. "We've lost him to the simp nation again." He sighed dramatically and George rolled his eyes, batting Nick's hand away from him.

"Says you." George grumbled, eager to shift the attention from him and his pink tipped ears. He could feel Clay looking at him from across the table and tried his hardest not to return it. He failed, but the effort was still there regardless.

When George looked over, Clay smiled something small and private - a smile intended only for George. And, really, was anyone expected George not to return it?

The moment was soft and warm for a while before George's smile turned sour. "Can I talk to you when we get back?" George asked carefully and Clay sobered some, nodding.

"Of course." He replied. It looked as though Clay was going to add something - maybe assure George that he can always talk to him or maybe ask what George wanted to talk to him about - but then the food arrived and the moment was over as soon as it had begun.

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@OhOphelia
Geo when Kiri isn't on for like five minutes

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retweets      likes
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@BBHisBaby
Ophelia when anyone that isn't Keres tries to speak

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@fleepfloop
Tell me how I got so invested in so many peoples relationships this isn't healthy
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@JeThrowMeAway

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     @ClarkNotKent
     Ssssssssshhhhhhhhh honey the simps are
     talking
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     retweets      likes

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The light show was mere minutes away and the group were currently questing to find the best spot in which to watch from. Clark and Geo were buzzing excitedly at the front of the group, Jethro only ever a few steps away - just in case. Then were Keres and Ophelia - as the night had turned colder, Ophelia had shucked her deep green bomber jacket onto Keres shoulders - giggling against each others sides. They walked beside Nick and Vincent, who's linked hands were tucked into Nick's hoodie pocket. Next were Zak and Darryl - no one was all that certain when it had happened but Zak had managed to whine his way into getting a piggyback until they found a spot to settle. And finally, a few strides behind, were Clay and George - they walked side by side in silence, arms brushing every now and again.

George wished he had waited until they'd gotten back to ask him to talk, he hated that the oddly nervous air had returned to suffocate them. He was just glad that Clay wasn't walking several feet away again as a 'customary distance' - it drove him insane how awkward being around one another was now.

Clay had been practically twiddling his thumbs since the group had paired off, wondering whether he should attempt to slip the box in his pocket to Nick or Ophelia or even Clark to give to George instead. He had returned to absently scratching at the knuckles of his left fist.

George let out an agitated huff, watching the jittery way in which Clay picked at his skin, hands dangling at his side closest to George. Before George had the chance to back himself out of it, he discretely reached one hand towards Clay and deliberately brushed it against the back of his.

Clay, ever the dense guy that he is, apologised quickly and pulled his hands tighter against his side. George groaned internally.

Clay had thought it was an accident the first time, a mishap from walking too close. But then he felt something push at his curled pinky with a clear objective. He couldn't hear anything over the roaring of the blood in his ears but he didn't need to hear to know that the finger had unfurled his and tangled softly around it.

George is a grown man, for God's sake, and yet his heart is hammering over linking pinkies with the guy who's tongue has been in his mouth. More than once.

It was pathetic, really, but George could feel the nervous air loosening around him and figured that it was worth it none the less.

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@OhOphelia
The picture is shit but the friendship isn't ❤️ Clark trying to teach Geo to toe tap

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retweets      likes
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@JeThrowMeAway
I hate to admit it but their friendship is possibly the most wholesome thing Clark has ever been involved in.
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@DefinitelyNotDying(inLA)
Clark is a very good big brother figure 🥺 (even if he's a little scary-)
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@ClarkNotKent
He can't do it because he's short 😌 that's just how it be sometimes
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     @BBHisBaby
     It was going so well, why did you have to
     ruin it?
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     retweets      likes

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Really, the band should be surprised that they hadn't been approached for almost an entire day. Dream was just acting pissy because George had dropped his hand the moment it was clear that the people weren't just passing by and Clay didn't know whether he'd take it again.

But, even if he was sour about having to let go of George, Dream was rather happy to greet more fans. He'd forgotten the way his heart swelled when they told him the way the band had helped them. The way he had helped them.

He watched with a certain warmth in his heart as the three that had approached them ran off back down the hill, laughing amongst themselves. He didn't need to look to know that the rest of the band were smiling too. As tiring as being recognised and approached every time they left the house was, it was also oddly rewarding in its own regard.

"Wow, no need to flex on us." Clark commented after allowing them to smile silently to themselves, knocking his shoulder with Vincent's as he made his way back to the head of the group, having spotted a good place they could get to by the time the fireworks began. With a few rippling giggles, the group fell back into the comfortable formation they had had before and began moving again.

Truthfully, the band were relieved that the moment had been shrugged off so easily. They had been worried that the outcasts, Nick and George would be put off by the idea of being stopped randomly while out. But, well, the outcasts, Nick and George weren't your conventional people and they, frankly, didn't care. If anything, there was a sense of pride in seeing their friends' talent recognised.

And Nick and George were rather used to it themselves anyways so, really, there was never a need to worry at all. None of them were normal people.

As George fell into step beside Clay, he decided against allowing the awkwardness to build again. He pressed his fingertips to the inside of Clay's wrist, sliding down to intertwine with Clay's. He squeezed once, refusing to meet Clay's surprised stare.

Eventually, they reached their spot. It was high, but no so much so that it would deter Clay. George took the chance to look out across the hundreds of thousands of scattered lights that dotted the section of the park that they could see.

"The park lights look like stars." George breathed, sitting himself down at the edge of the group, joint hands pulling Clay down beside him. The others hummed their agreement, excitedly awaiting the show.

Clay bit his lip, figuring now was the best time of any.

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Baby brother didn't drown, we're all good :)

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours, Dandelion.