To say Clay was nervous would be the understatement of the century- no, the millennium. He could feel the others' eyes searing his skin to the point of him yanking down the sleeves of his hoodie and flipping up the hood.

Nick didn't forgive him, what chance did he have of George forgiving him? None. Not a single one.

A part of him hated Keres. For meeting him, for going along with keeping it ambiguous, for kissing him. He hated her because she lost nothing to this and he lost everything. But, most of all, he hated her because they didn't. Ophelia so obviously liked her, Jethro, Geo and Clark didn't seem to mind her, the band liked her. Nick didn't like her, but he also didn't hate her.

But, the bigger and more logical part of him had forgiven her. Because she had been trying to help him in the only way she knew how. Because she could have left after the shoot and never spoke to them again and, yet, she stuck around and spent hundreds of moments dedicated to trying to solve their problems while dealing with her own. Because, no matter how much the world mistreated her, she still loved the world with the same shining curiosity in the eyes of every young child. Because all she had ever wanted from them was a friend who wouldn't disappear.

Clay wondered whether George hated Keres. He'd have good reason to. As far as George was concerned, Keres had appeared and stolen Clay away from him with little more than a giggle. Clay wouldn't blame him if he did.

He wondered whether George hated him. He'd have good reason to. As far as George was concerned, Clay had pulled back from him slowly and then completely cut off all contact and cheated on him publicly. Clay wouldn't blame him if he did.

He jumped when a large, rough and calloused hand rested on his shoulder. He looked at the hand for a moment before following it all the way up to meet the owners eyes. He was more than just surprised to stare straight back into Jethro's softly deadpan face.

"You keep thinking whatever you're thinking and you're gonna make yourself sick." Jethro warned in a gruff voice as he placed a glass of water in front of Clay. He patted Clay's shoulder once, a little too hard, before whisking himself away again and busying himself with the dishes.

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@OhOphelia

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retweets      likes
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@ClarkNotKent
"I hAtE gAyS i HonEsTlY dO" stfu stanky hoe
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@JeThrowMeAway
Everyone @ Keres so she sees this @KeresHexxOff
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@OhOphelia
JSBSHSKKAKSJSJSBSJSJAK GUYS STOP TAGGING K*RES SHE'LL THINK IM CREEPY
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     @KeresHexxOff
     Don't worry, I think you're pretty too
     🥺👉🏼👈🏼💖
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Clay couldn't speak around the knot in his throat as he sat on the opposite side of the couch from where George was slouched, practically laid, in Boobies' lap. George was hardly any better off.

He let his eyes roam over Clay's profile. He looked better than last night, George was glad to find. For starters, his hair was washed, falling fluffy over his forehead. His eyes were still drooping with exhaustion and, upon closer inspection, were slightly red rimmed but George knew full well that that couldn't be fixed in the span of a few hours. He had put more effort into his foundation too, it blending a lot better than it had the night before.

George let his eyes trace the slope of Clay's nose, slowly down over his chapped lips, further to his broad shoulders, following well built arms to where Clay's hands were tightly clutched. Only then did he realise that Clay was scratching at barely there bumps on his knuckles, reminiscent of scabs. His knuckles had turned red with abuse and George held no doubt that Clay would continue until they bled.

Without really thinking all that much, George extended one leg and used a sock clad foot to nudge Clay's hands away from one another. For Clay, it was all he needed to go careening over the edge.

"I'm so sorry, George, I'm so fucking sorry." Clay sobbed, shaking and hiccuping pathetically as the barely contained tears burst from his hold. His hands would be tearing at his hair had it not been for George's toes lingering over them. The appendage disappeared as George quickly sat up, causing his head to spin.

"Clay-" He whispered, reaching for Clay, only to be interrupted.

"No, I don't deserve your kindness George, I fucked up so bad and I hurt you and I can't even explain and apologise without breaking down as if I'm the one that got hurt." Clay rushed out on baited breath. All of the pain and anguish that had built up over the last few months finally came tumbling down.

"Clay, please breathe." George pleaded desperately. Right now, he didn't care whatever Clay had done to him. He just needed Clay to calm down. "Breathe for me." He whispered, hands hovering in the seemingly endless space between them.

Clay obeyed. He hiccuped helplessly, focusing on taking deep breaths. He almost broke down again when he realised George had started breathing louder so that he could copy. Eventually, he managed to calm himself to the occasional sniffle. George had managed to find some tissues and was quick to place them in front of Clay on the coffee table before returning to his place in Boobies' lap.

"How much do you know?" Clay finally asked hoarsely, rubbing at his nose with a tissue. He didn't care about the streaks in his foundation, George had already seen what it covered.

"I know that Damien forced you all to stop talking to me and anyone that knew me and I know that he was the reason you were always so stressed before. Why didn't you tell me it was him overworking you?" George replied quietly.

"I didn't want you to worry. I knew that nothing would change Damien so I thought it was just.. easier if you didn't know." Clay admitted.

"Clay, I've never cared about what's easy. I meant it when I said that it was us against the world. You could have told me anyways." Clay nodded, knowing that now.

"And.. I know that Keres was there for you after Damien visited when the others and I couldn't be..." George added quietly, feeling something sad and sour settle on his tongue. He didn't like the way the words tasted.

"Did they tell you that Damien tried to force me and Keres into a contracted relationship?" Clay asked and George shook his head with wide eyes. "That was before he told me not to talk to you.."

"That's what me and Vincent's argument was about. I had managed to get out of it by saying that I wouldn't deny anything to the media and then invited Keres to get coffee. I wanted to get talking to her about it over and done with and then I'd call you when I got back to explain everything. Vincent tried to tell me to talk to you first and I wish I had listened to him..." George watched the way Clay bit the inside of his cheek.

"When I got back, Damien was there. He told me that you were... a distraction... and a bad influence on me. I wanted to scream at him that I've never been as happy as I am with you but... I knew that he'd figure it out and exploit us in some way and... I didn't want to put you through that. I didn't want him anywhere fucking near you." Clay growled lowly.

"I'm an adult too, Clay. I'm older than you." George reminded carefully and Clay studied his face for a moment.

"I- I know that. I didn't mean it in the sense that you couldn't take it I meant that- that you didn't deserve that- don't deserve that." Clay remedied.

"And you do?" George asked seriously and Clay curled in on himself like a chastised child.

"It's different for me... I signed up for this when I became a musician... you didn't." Clay tried, hands fumbling to gesture as if it would help.

"I signed up to sharing your struggles when I became your boyfriend." George damn near whispered. "When I became your friend."

There was a silence in which Clay battled with a fast rising second wave of tears. "What did I ever do to deserve you, George?" He finally choked. "It was always you questioning your worth but it's always been me who never deserved you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me"

George shook his head softly, watching as Clay desperately composed himself.

"After he left," Clay continued once he'd finally gotten a hold of himself "I lost it. I screamed and cried and punched the floor until my knuckles bled." George figured that explained the near healed scabs. "I'd said some... really horrible shit about the guys in my argument with Vincent that I didn't mean and I was sure he'd told them so... I thought they'd be too angry with me. I thought they wouldn't want to talk to me. So I messaged the next person that came into my head; Keres. I'd just been out with her, otherwise I don't think she would have even crossed my mind."

"She came over, patched my hands," Clay chuckled softly and George looked at him, confused. "Sorry, I just... I remember how out of it I was. The whole time she was treating me, I kept comparing her hands to yours and thinking about how much better yours were. I was like a spoilt toddler, wishing you were there instead." George felt something deep in his stomach shift.

"I told her about my argument with the band, asked whether her manager had suggested a contract as well. I wish I could have asked you first but... I told her about us too. About how we had to hide from the public and Damien to stay safe. She said she wouldn't deny anything publicly as well and told me to talk to the band and that they'd forgive me because we're family. And she promised to help find a way to talk to you." George stuttered a breath.

"...she knew." He whispered, not quite knowing how he felt other than hollow. Clay nodded his head guiltily.

"We started hanging out with her more both to keep Damien satisfied and to try and figure out how to get to you." He continued. "The photo of her kissing my head was because I... I was losing myself. Every single time we came up with something new that wouldn't work I felt... hollow. I missed you so much that it hurt... and it seemed like nothing would ever work. She was praying for me, neither of us thought about what we looked like."

"Praying?" George questioned softly.

"Keres is a Christian. She told me she prayed that god would take the demons from my mind. I'm not religious but... it helped." Clay explained.

"And in that photo where we..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the word.

"Kissed." George supplied quietly and Clay decided that hearing it from George was worse. He nodded.

"I had just read your messages saying that you were on your way. That you were coming to me." George watched as Clay let out a shaky sigh. "I had a panic attack. I couldn't stop thinking about... about what Damien may do to you when he found out."

"Keres was trying to make me snap out of it. She shouted my name but I didn't hear it, she shook me by the shoulders but I didn't feel it so... she did the next thing she could remember  anyone having done for her. It stopped right after and she realised her mistake immediately, George. She said she wouldn't do it again." George had pulled one of Boobies' arms around himself.

"...you're defending her." George stated by way of response.

"You have to understand that Keres has been through a lot-" Clay tried.

"So have I." George cut him off with. He got that Keres was Clay's friend and that she had tried to help them but he didn't get why Clay was trying to defend her for kissing him when she knew that they were together and that he would see and Clay wouldn't be able to explain.

"I know- I mean- I meant in the past. She's been through a lot in the past that messed her up." Clay tried.

"So have I." George repeated. "There's a reason I always worried about not being enough for you. Worried about doing something wrong. Worried about you leaving me. We've all been through shit that explains our actions but it doesn't excuse them." Clay's eyes were pained as he took in George's face.

"That's why we brought her here, because she wants to apologise too. I just.. I wanted you to know that it didn't mean anything to either of us. It was a mistake." Clay sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. The silence that followed was suffocating.

"Okay." George finally whispered. Clay turned to where George was staring back at him.

"Okay? That's it?" Clay asked.

"That's  it?" George parroted. "Clay, you have to understand what I went through-"

"No! I didn't- I didn't mean it like that I meant- I meant that, after everything I did, it's okay? You're not angry, you're not going to ignore me, you're not going to scream at me to leave? To never talk to you again?" Clay asked. "Just, Okay?"

George sighed. It wasn't Clay's fault. It wasn't Clay's fault that George was insecure in the first place. It wasn't Clay's fault that he was exploited and manipulated. It wasn't his fault that he tried to do what was best for George, what was best for the both of them. It wasn't his fault that Keres kissed him.

"Yeah. Just okay." George finally decided.

"Okay."

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2.4k words

I nearly cut this in half but I decided I had made you wait long enough already :)

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours, Dandelion