Once again, Clark proved himself serious in his promises as he returned with an armful of various bottles, Darryl having accompanied him as the eldest of the group - and likely the most responsible. They still weren't sure how or where he'd managed to acquire any of it but at least this time there was at least a chance that it was legally.

Within record time after Clark had set down the bottles, most everyone was either buzzed, drunk or wasted. George had learnt his lesson from the last time he let Clark and Ophelia get him drunk, Geo felt no need to drink and Darryl simply didn't want more than one, both happy to join George in sipping at some apple juice and Geo keeping Kiri updated.

The others, however, were more than happy to take advantage of the opportunity presented to them and an excessive amount of toasts were made: to one another; to Mrs Bosko, bless her soul; to whatever divine intervention had taken Damien for some time; to Clay's coming out, the brave bastard; to friendships stronger than blood; to finding a love worth the hassle and to simply being at all.

Clay was able to limit himself at a pleasant buzz, happy to crowd George into his arms, rest his chin atop George's soft hair and sway to the music that no one was really sure when had started - it was probably Ophelia's fault, if they were being honest. George held a glass of apple juice in one hand, the other drawing soft, slow patterns onto Clay's forearm, basking in the warmth down his back, around his waist and in his heart.

Zak drunk a little bit more but was still perfectly coherent, rambling about something or other to Darryl as Darryl listened fondly and discretely swapped the glass in his boyfriend's hand for one of water instead. Had anyone chosen to join the conversation, they'd likely have no clue what either boy was referring to but the two themselves knew well enough. To one another, anything they said simply made sense.

Nick was elated to find the Vincent was a rather affectionate drunk, though Vin himself wouldn't ever admit to it. There was always a constant connection: their knees pressed together; Vincent's foot overlapping his; their shoulders brushing; Vincent's hand in the small of his back, around his shoulders, in his hair, in his hand. Nick was more than happy to let it be, pressing into the contact warmly.

To everyone's surprise, Keres was happy to join the drinking as well. She admitted easily to the fact that she had been drunk before and was fine with the feeling as long as she felt safe in where she was. And, where she was currently, was in Ophelia's lap. She revelled in the way Ophelia's hands hovered, face burning red even in the darkness, and giggled a bubbly noise when Ophelia began stuttering. The others were more than just amused to see Ophelia be the one made flustered and speechless for once.

No one at all, however, was surprised to see Clark well on his way to a hospital bed at best, though the grave was more likely. He seemed to be dragging Jethro there with him, winding him up and pissing him off, challenging him to every drinking game under the sun and then some. The tension between them grew with every drop they drunk and every word they threw, Ophelia collecting bets on when and where Jethro would finally snap.

Clay got the closest with 'right now, on the couch'. It was actually right now, in the kitchen.

[SPICE WARNING! Skip to the second warning if you wouldn't like to read it!! (Again, I don't write NSFW, it just gets spicy)]

Clark finally felt as though he could breathe again, Jethro's hands on his hip and fisted in his hair, Jethro's lips bruising against his own, Jethro's tongue relentless and the dull ache of the kitchen counter pressing incessantly against the small of his back. It was ironic, really; the only time Clark felt he could breathe was when Jethro was stealing the air from his lungs.

"Up." Jethro growled against his lips. "Up." He repeated, shifting both hands to the backs of Clark's thighs. Clark did as he was told, hopping and allowing Jethro to hoist him onto the counter, stepping between Clark's knees and fisting his hand into his hair to crash their lips together again.

"Drive me insane." Jethro slurred, tugging at Clark's hair harshly. Clark hummed a high, questioning noise. "Keep fucking with me. Confusing." Jethro continued, ignoring the way Clark's nails dig sharply into his shoulders.

"So we're talking about it then?" Clark croaked as Jethro moved to press open mouthed kisses down his neck. Jethro avoided the question, nibbling a collection of dark marks into the pale skin of Clark's throat. He didn't feel like talking.

[SPICE OVER]

Clark could feel the way his tongue itched, eyes growing warm. He didn't want to pull away, nor did he want Jethro to stop, but this simply wasn't fair. Jethro couldn't just bring up their problems and then leave him at that; overthinking and aching.

Clark pushed weakly at Jethro's shoulders until he pulled back, eyes dark and clouded.

"You can't do this to me, Ro, it's not fair." Clark slurred, shaking his head and attempting to make a plan to get away from Jethro and towards the fridge to find the cherries. He continued to shove at Jethro's shoulders with shaking hands until he could safely drop from the counter.

Jethro watched in confusion as Clark padded from the kitchen, what was left of the packet of cherries he'd bought clutched in his hands.

////:\\\\

@Sapnap
Lock your doors and windows, the gangs out

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@OhOphelia
Keres and Clark is the friendship we never asked for but always needed

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@Geo-logist
May I add: Nick and Ophelia

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@BadBoyHalo
ಠ_ಠ
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     @Sapnap
     We love you, dad <3
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     retweets      likes

////:\\\\

Driving to the airport was always horrible, but driving to the airport with a hangover was just a whole knew level of awful.

They split up into four cars: the two rentals, Clay's car and Mrs Bosko's. Mrs B had come along to say goodbye to the group herself but also for security, bringing a small group of qualified guards with her that she'd worked with before. Geo offered to take the spot in her car in order to allow no pairs to be split, happy to text and maybe video call Kiri on the ride.

Clark was curled in the front seat of Jethro's rental, fast asleep. Nick and Vincent took the backseats, eagerly glossing over the obvious marks on Clark's neck and instead dedicating their attention to one another and their moving plans. Jethro stayed silent in the drivers seat, simply focussing on getting them where they needed to be.

Keres had shotgun in Ophelia's rental, voice quiet as she spoke to Ophelia, both for the sake of their headaches and for the other pair in the car. Zak and Darryl were asleep, slumped against one another, in the backseat.

To absolutely no ones surprise, George had claimed the front seat of Clay's car. He stayed awake to talk to Clay, eager to make use of every second he had left at Clay's side. Clay was more than happy to do the same, switching from resting his hand on the gearshift to resting on George's thigh warmly.

George was in the first hoodie of Clay's he'd ever worn - a large green one with his signature smiley in white on the front - and wearing it as though it were a trophy. There was no hesitation in the way he climbed from the car and popped the trunk to grab his bags and Clay felt a smug sense of pride at that.

"Hi." Clay uttered in a small voice, leaning against the car and watching as George did a check of all his bags. George then looked up and smiled warmly.

"Hi, Baby." He replied and Clay chuckled, dropping his head with a bashful grin.

"C'mere." He murmured, gesturing for George to come forward. George did as he was told, stepping until he was almost chest to chest with Clay. "Close your eyes." Again, he obeyed.

Clay reached into his pocket, pulling out the cold object and unclamping it carefully. Slowly, gently, he wrapped the chain around George's neck and clasped it again. George rested his forehead against Clay's collarbone as he waited. "You can open them again." Clay finally murmured, resting his hand on George's hips.

George knew what it was without looking but it still felt good to see his boyfriends pendant resting over his own heart. "Don't give it to Clark this time." Clay joked softly and George looked up at him with a smile, placing his hands on his arms.

"No promises." He replied, running his hands up Clay's arms to wrap around his shoulders in a comfortable, familiar hug.

George thinks he knows what to compare hugging Clay to now. He thinks he has a word for the feeling of being in Clay's arms. He thinks the word he was looking for is home. Being held by Clay felt like finally coming home. Clay would rather agree, but about George.

"Come on, the others are waiting for us." Clay mumbled sadly and George nodded, pulling back with a bittersweet smile and grabbing his bags.

The group could only accompany the outcasts, George and Nick so far and long before they were ready to, they had to part. Ophelia and Geo were the first to find the words to say goodbye, exchanging warm and tight hugs with the others and wishing them the best.

Ophelia paused, however, at Keres. She looked oh so very small with Boobies at her side, a much too large sun hat that rather mirrored Ophelia's own perched on her head and an oversized Minnie Mouse shirt looking more like a dress on her. Ophelia crouched the small way it took to talk to the bear.

"Take care of her for me." She stage whispered, glancing up at Keres through her lashes. "Keep that pretty smile on her face." She added and Keres giggled, softly pulling Ophelia up to hug her and pressing kisses to her cheeks in thanks and possibly a hint of something else.

Clark and Jethro said their goodbyes next, both thanking the others and privately apologising for the trouble or tension they may or may not have caused. Their apologies were brushed off easily in forgiveness.

Nick then pushed forward, unusually emotional, for his goodbye hugs. He, of course, lingered in Vincent's arms, burying his nose just behind Vincent's ear.

"Je t'aime." Vincent murmured with a smile and Nick held him closer, reminding himself that he'd be back soon. It wasn't long. He'd survive.

"Je t'adore." Nick one-upped, voice wavering and accent not quite right but Vincent couldn't care less. He wasn't about to ruin the moment by lecturing his boyfriend on his pronunciation on a language he didn't speak until a few days ago.

George took longer than anyone to say goodbye but no one had the heart to hurry him. He deserved this, if nothing else.

As it came to his final goodbye, Clay, George couldn't move. He was frozen to the spot, tears in his eyes and breath caught in his throat. Clay wasn't any better, staring back at him as the first of many tears slipped over the curve of his cheek and dropped to the floor.

As though it had broken whatever power that held Clay and George, they both reached for one another, connecting in a fierce hug. "I love you." George was the first to choke out, needing Clay to hear the words. Clay nodded, a whimper escaping him.

"I love you too." He croaked, blinking open his eyes and searching desperately for a chance that maybe, just maybe, he could kiss George goodbye. At first, all he could see was the cameras and phones trained on them and the few guards surrounding their group and felt disheartened.

But then, his eyes met Mrs Bosko's. She was smiling, usually stern face softened in a display of the genuine care she'd grown for the young people around her. She didn't say a word, eyes shining, but she didn't need to. Instead, she nodded. It was all that Clay had ever needed.

He pulled back softly and cupped George's face with both hands, brushing away a few stray tears that had escaped. George's hands came up to cover his own softly, thumbs running back and forth.

With Mrs B's approval established, Clay dipped to press his lips to George's.

////:\\\\

@DOTDUpdates
@DreamWasTaken cheating on @KeresHexxOff with @GeorgeNotFound ?!
[an image of the group in the airport. Though they are mostly covered, it's visible that George is in Dream's hoodie and has his pendant hanging from his neck. Dream's hands are cradling George's face, George's hand covering them, as he kisses him.]
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@KeresHexxOff
Yay!! I'm so happy for you, Dream!! ☆o(≧▽≦)o☆
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@fleepfloop
"DrEaMwAsTaKeN cHeAtInG oN KeReShExXoFf" sure sure

Also, took you long enough Dream. I'm expecting an invite to the wedding
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@DreamWasTaken
@GeorgeNotFound I love you ❤️
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     @GeorgeNotFound
     Gross ❤️
     I love you too

////:\\\\

"You can never just do things Like Normal People Do, can you?" Nick asked with a fond, begrudging sigh once the two had pulled apart. They simply shared a teary, private grin.

"But We're Not Normal."

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2.2k words

And that, Dear hearts, is where But We're Not Normal sees its end.

But wait!!! What's that in the distance? Is it...? It is! It's a third book!! What's it called, you may ask? Well, I can tell you now that the third book will be called:

And Maybe That's Alright.

It'll be focussed on dealing with Damien's return, moving in together and upholding a relationship in the public eye. Just like I said in Like Normal People Do, you are more than welcome to leave the story here if you are happy with this being the way that it ends. I'll wish you all the best in life and thank you for your time! If you're not yet satisfied then I look forward to seeing you in a weeks time when the book drops!!! :D I can't guarantee that it'll be forty chapters like the two before as I hadn't initially planned it but I am definitely looking forward to continuing this storyline further!!!

Also, a Happy Birthday to Dream and a massive congratulations to George for two million, Sapnap for six hundred thousand and Dream for seven million!!! It really is incredible to see them grow and I'm so proud of them all :)

Thank you again for all of your unconditional love and support and, for the last time in But We're Not Normal:

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours always, Dandelion