"George I-" Clay began, words tripping and tangling on his tongue. George watched him, eyes questioning. "I, uh, brought something for you." He continued, reaching into his pocket with shaking hands to retrieve the box.

"I completely get it if you don't want it, you don't- you don't have to take it but I just- I thought-" George smiled something small and kind, deciding to spare Clay the embarrassment of trying to continue despite his amusement. He took the box from Clay's hands delicately and opened it.

"Where did you find it?" He asked gently and Clay rubbed his neck.

"Ophelia gave me it. Apparently she and Clark have, uh... have everything of mine that you had... and anything I gave you." He explained carefully, ignoring the guilt riddled hurt that squeezed his lungs.

George pulled the enchroma clout goggles from their box, slipping them on without a second thought. Clay watched, lips open in a soft 'o' shape, as George turned to look back out over the park.

George would pretend it was an accident that his hand landed against Clay's conveniently still open palm but no one would believe him.

Before the silence could mould into anything else, the bang of the first firework sounded and dragged their attention away.

Ophelia, arm around Keres as it seemingly always was now, and Clark, laid with his head pillowed in Jethro's lap, let out loud cheers, encouraging the others to do the same. They were far enough from anyone else that they didn't have to worry about others complaining.

The light show was certainly worth it, in George's opinion. Even more so now that he could see it in full colour. A part of his heart, small and jagged in shape but beginning to attempt to slot itself back into place, warmed at the fact that Clay had thought of bringing his glasses along, despite the possibility that George would reject them or not need them - they had only decided to stay for the show last minute, after all.

Clay thought the light show was worth it too, but not for the same reasons the others did. He thought it was worth it for the laugh in Nick's voice as he accused Vincent of startling against his side; the giggle Darryl let out as Zak practically bounced with excitement in his arms; the way Ophelia whispered soft reassurances as Keres peeked from her shoulder; the way Geo let out soft gasps at each burst, phone up and recording to send to Kiri; the way Clark fell silent as Jethro's hand rested tentatively on his hairline; the small smile on George's face as he watched the fireworks; the way the explosions cast him in different, soft glows of vibrant colour; the way each one reflected in his glasses, lighting the eyes behind them.

But, most of all, Clay thought it was worth it for the way George's hand stayed warm in his, thumb brushing absently over Clay's rough knuckles, until long after all light had died out.

////:\\\\

@BBHisBaby
I'm not a photographer, but the fireworks were pretty :) (should I get a main account for irl stuff like this?)

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retweets      likes
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@ClarkNotKent
Ya get a main account so Kiri can simp for your cute face instead of your mediocre memes and band stan tweets 😌✨
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@fleepfloop
I am like 90% sure Geo was the only one that actually watched the fireworks and not someone else
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@OhOphelia
"I'm NoT a PhOtOgRaPhEr" you're literally an art major????? Isn't that what they're teaching you?????????
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     @BBHisBaby
     I can't believe Lia actually died, sometimes
     it's almost like she still replies to my tweets
     T~T
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     retweets      likes

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There was a pleasant and warm buzz as the eleven finally made it back to their house, beginning to trickle out to their respective rooms slowly. A shared glance confirmed that Clay still remembered what George had asked earlier that afternoon.

As he watched George make his way to his room, Clay felt a hand on his shoulder. "If you hurt him again, I won't have a problem kneeing you in the balls a second time." Nick commented nonchalantly and Clay shuddered at the memory.

"I'm not going to hurt him again. I can't." Clay replied and it sounded a lot more like he was talking to himself rather than talking to Nick. Nick nodded regardless, patting Clay's shoulder.

"Good. Go to him." Clay didn't need to be told twice.

George was perched on the edge of his bed, pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie - his hoodie, not one of Clay's, he was sure of it - as he ran through everything he wanted to say. His words had a tendency to die on his tongue whenever he tried to talk to Clay.

"Hi." Clay whispered softly, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Hi." George replied, shuffling further toward the headboard so that Clay could sit beside him comfortably. He patted the bed in invitation when Clay stayed stood at the door.

Eventually, Clay joined George on the edge of the bed, leaving a safe distance between them. For once, George was grateful for the space. It made it easier to think.

"We need to talk about where we stand now." George began, knowing Clay wouldn't. Clay nodded with a stuttered 'yeah'. "I thought that we broke up when you kissed Keres and I said goodbye but what we have going now? That's not just friends. It's more than just friends. I need to know for sure whether or not you're mine because, if not, then we need to set some boundaries. I need to know what we are."

"George, I've always been yours. I never stopped being yours, I just stopped showing you that I was." Clay promised. "I'm still yours, if you'll have me." He offered gently. George paused breathlessly.

"Just because I know the truth, doesn't mean I'm suddenly okay. Clay, I'm recovering, I won't— I'll need time." George continued and Clay nodded again.

"I'll wait for you." He replied and George felt dizzy.

"You can't— Clay, you cant keep saying these things—" He breathed. Even after thinking through everything he needed to say, George was at a loss for words.

"Can't you tell how much I love you? Can you not tell by the sound of my voice? Can you not tell by the things I say to you?" Clay bombarded. "George, I know that I hurt you. I know things aren't perfect and they won't be for a while. I know." He tried earnestly.

"But I want to fix it. If you'll let me, I want to be a part of your life and you mine. I can wait, I can step back and give you space or I can be here to reassure you every minute that my heart is yours. My heart is yours, and I don't want it back." George's arms had wrapped around his own waist.

"Now." George whispered and Clay let out a small, confused noise. "You can be here to reassure me that your heart is mine now. What happens when I go back to England? When Damien recovers and finds out you're talking to me again?"

"Clay, you will never know what it feels like to lose you. Even if I didn't lose you, I thought I did at the time." George's voice shook. "It was like having someone take my heart and pull it apart piece by piece in front of me and not tell me why. I was powerless to stop it and clueless as to why I deserved it."

"I've spent so many nights wondering what I did wrong to make you stop loving me. What Keres had that I didn't. It's going to be a long time before I can believe you when you tell me you love me. I don't want to put in that time if I'm just going to lose you again when I go and Damien comes back."

"You're not." Clay promised, eyes cloudy. "You're not going to lose me again. I don't care about what Damien will say or do any more. I don't care about what anyone will say or do any more. I can't even begin to explain what I'd do for you. How far I'd go. How many lines I'd cross without a second thought, if you asked me to, George. I'd quit the band and move overseas if you asked me to. If it meant I could be with you."

"The worst decision I ever made was hurting you. I don't care what it is, I'll do whatever it takes to not make that mistake ever again." Clay promised and the first of many tears slipped down George's cheek.

"You're impossible." George chuckled a watery little laugh, looking up from his hands to look at Clay. "I'm trying to be all self deprecating and sad over here, you're making it so hard." Clay smiled. As much as he wanted to brush the tears from George's cheeks, he respected his space. He focussed instead on making sure he didn't cry as well. George wiped at his eyes with a shaky smile.

"Good. I like making it hard for you." Clay returned, winking for good measure and George rolled his eyes with a choked laugh, leaning to shove Clay's shoulder.

"If we're doing this, it has to be us, Clay. The two of us. Not 'Clay takes on all the issues and internalises them and hides them from George'. I can deal with there being problems as long as you're there to help me solve them." Clay nodded eagerly.

"I'm sorry for hiding from you, George. I thought I was doing what was right at the time but I see now." He replied and George nodded in understanding. "So?" He asked, grin wide, dragging out the word obnoxiously.

George rolled his eyes again. "I guess it wouldn't kill me to try being boyfriends with you again." He huffed, as if the words themselves were such a burden. Clay grinned. "But you're going to have to be patient with me." George warned.

"George, we're not going to do anything you aren't comfortable with. I can wait for you. You move at your own pace and I'll follow." Clay swore, smiling softly when George shuffled closer. "Can I touch your face?" Clay asked and George laughed.

"You sound so creepy." He giggled, turning to face Clay more fully. Clay followed suit, chuckling as well.

"Shut up, I'm trying to be romantic. Can I?" He repeated and George nodded. Clay lifted one hand to cradle the George's cheek, swiping his thumb back and forth. George leant into the touch, closing his eyes. "Can I tell you I love you?" He smiled.

"Please do." George replied breathlessly. Clay waited for George to open his eyes again.

"I love you, George. So much." George shuddered with the words, lifting a hand to press over Clay's.

"Me too." He replied softly and Clay grinned.

"Narcissistic much?" He asked and George groaned, causing Clay to laugh.

"You know what I meant." He grumbled, moving a hand to shove lightly at Clay's chest before letting it lay there, fingers picking up on the way Clay's heart fluttered beneath his ribcage.

"Yeah. Can I hug you?" George rolled his eyes. This was going to get really old really quickly. But, a small part of him rather liked it.

"If you have to." George sighed sarcastically but Clay didn't care, damn near launching himself at George. He wrapped his arms around George's shoulders, pressing his nose just behind George's ear. George snaked his arms around Clay's waist in return.

Yeah, they could try being boyfriends again.

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1.9k words

No wedding yet, sorry :c

Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

Yours, Dandelion