Work Text:
“So you’re telling me that you’ve never been to a Christmas market before?” George asked. Clay shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face.
“I don’t know, they really just do normal farmer’s markets in Florida. The only difference is that they’re selling surfer Santa shit around Christmas.” He replied as the two walked to the entrance of the market.
George had been talking about taking Clay to do all of the Christmas activities he’d never done because he’d been in Florida for every Christmas of his life since the minute his plane landed. Clay had soaked up his older best friend’s excitement, pushing away the heat that filled his gut whenever George would smile at him.
They’d already met a few times before- the first time George had seen his face was when the brit had come to Florida months earlier, and somehow every time they’d seen each other since had been in the US. This caused George to insist that Clay visit him in Britain because ‘ It’s your turn to waste your money on an intercontinental plane ticket, asshole .’ Clay had no problem with it, especially because he could hear the grin in his older friend’s voice as he agreed happily to it.
All of that led up to Clay’s current situation; he was shivering roughly, even while wrapped in a thick coat, a scarf, a beanie, and so much more winter gear than was necessary. He still felt warm inside though, at least a little bit- he always felt like that when he was with the brit. Clay looked down at George with jealousy- the little prick was doing just fine in a normal hoodie and denim jacket, as well as some simple black sweatpants. It wasn’t Clay’s fault that Florida weather had basically turned him into a lizard.
The pair strolled lazily through the little arch that marked the entrance to the market, and after Clay was finished using his shoulder to push George all the way to the edge of the sidewalk, he finally took the time to look up and around. The moment he did he paused in his tracks, eyes filled with wonder at the beauty laid out before him.
The market itself was situated in the center of one of London’s many parks, this one decorated beautifully to reflect the holiday season. Other than the booths which were all made of a similar looking weathered wood, the trees had thousands of white Christmas lights adorning them, and the lamp posts were strung with pine garlands. Dark clouds, probably bearing snow, began to roll in from the north, however the setting sun was still visible to the west. Old packed down snow from days beforehand laid on the sides of the path, and nearby a small pond occupied by a few ice skaters glittered in the sunset’s orange light. It was beautiful, even as Clay’s breaths floated up into the sky from the low temperature he was very much not used to. He felt eyes on him and looked to the side, meeting George’s proud gaze.
“Pretty cool, right?” He asked. Clay took yet another look around.
“It’s… not too bad.” The blonde shrugged, then received a lighthearted shove from his shorter friend.
“Liar, you know you’re impressed.” George laughed, rolling his eyes. Clay shrugged again indifferently, but he knew that George was fully aware of his amazement. The American had barely seen snow before- he didn’t travel much as a kid, so anything snow or cold related was pretty foreign to him. George grabbed the younger man by the arm to pull him, laughing, to the booth nearest to them. “Okay okay. The market closes in like a half hour so we have a lot of ground to cover. No funny business Dream.”
“You’re the one wasting time here, just saying.” Clay giggled, the cold air stinging his throat with every breath taken. Still he followed, trying not to slip on the icy cobblestones of the path. The first booth had an array of handmade wooden carved utensils and ornaments, all Christmas themed of course. Clay picked up a spoon with the handle carved into a snowman and brandished it at George. “En garde, Gogy!” He threatened, trying and failing to pull off an old-timey english accent.
“You’re so dumb.” George laughed, ignoring the threat to instead continue his browsing under the watchful eye of the booth owner. Clay scoffed and stepped closer.
“You know it’s not below me to stab an opponent who is weaponless-” He struck out with the spoon again playfully. “I have literally no empathy. I am a black hole of emotion”
“Yeah, a real cold-blooded killer over here. Gonna murder me with a spoon.” George deadpanned as he took a step forward and easily grabbed the spoon from his hand to set it back down on the display. “Sooooo scary.” He teased.
“You’re lame you know.” Clay said as he rolled his eyes but continued to browse, deciding to pick up an ornament to bring home to his mom. She’d appreciate it probably, she liked that kind of stuff, especially if it was handmade anywhere except the United States. George had drifted on to the next booth by the time Clay had paid and pocketed the gift.
“You left without me.” Dream pouted. George turned around quickly and hid something behind his back, a panicked expression on his face.
“It seems you didn’t get too lost.” He said. Clay attributed the redness in his cheeks to the cold, but still he couldn’t help but pry a little.
“Whatcha got there?” He asked. George looked to the ground, as if he had suddenly gained the ability to see the dark red color of his Doc Martens. His pretty brown hair was falling a bit over his pale forehead; Clay had the sudden impulse to take a hand and push the locks back into place, but of course didn’t actually do it. He didn’t want to be weird or anything.
“It’s a secret.” George replied, pulling a lip between his teeth. Clay backed off, raising his hands in surrender with a smile, despite his curiosity.
“Alright alright, I see how it is. Buying secret presents for Sapnap, I get it.” He joked. The brunette seemed to lose some tension as Clay walked away a bit.
“Uh, yeah. Yes. Sapnap.” George replied. “I know if you see what it is you’ll just snitch to him and ruin the surprise.”
“And we can’t have that.” Clay backed off and left George to do whatever he was up to. He wandered around the booths, a lot of which were starting to clean up for the night.
As he walked from booth to booth, the blonde really just found himself thinking about George. (Of course). He’d been so kind to him this trip- well, as kind as George could be. The guy was strangely dry -he’d always been-, and terrible at expressing emotions, but Clay really clicked with that if he was being honest. He knew George’s ways of showing affection like the back of his hand: he liked to tease and shove and pretend he didn’t care, but he always cared so much more than he let on. He loved the undivided attention that Clay gave him whenever they were in a Discord call or playing some stupid game, and Clay loved to supply it in return. The blonde didn’t really know where he’d be without the late night facetime calls that they’d fall asleep on, or the handwritten letters they’d send back and forth, sometimes including an article of clothing as a reminder of what the other smelled like. Clay told himself that it was normal; friends who lived in other countries did that all the time, it didn’t have to be romantic.
But then there was the tiny part of his stupid monkey brain that hoped maybe George wanted things to be more than what they were in the same way Clay did.
He walked up to one of the final booths on the path- whatever they were selling smelled heavenly, and the blonde wanted some of it. Especially if it was warm.
“Can I help you sir?” A young woman with a pink bob asked him, a bright smile on her face. On the table before him was a big jug over a hot plate as well as a plate of desserts. The air smelled like cinnamon and sugar on top of the scent of the cold.
“Uh, what’s in there?” Clay asked. He pointed to the large container.
“Hot apple cider. It’s been super popular tonight, people usually get an apple cider donut with it.” She preemptively started reaching for the styrofoam cups next to her as Clay grinned softly.
“Very American of you to have the donuts.” She let out a small laugh.
“Ah, not everything about America is bad. You guys know how to eat at least.”
“You’re not wrong there.” Clay said. He felt a sharp coldness on his nose, and looked up- it was starting to flurry. His soft smile turned into a huge grin. “Can I get two of those ciders and a donut please?” He asked, quickly pulling his wallet out. He wanted to get back to George as soon as possible so they could find a nice place to watch the snow come down. You know, as homies did. She nodded and before he knew it, he was thanking her profusely with hands laden with two cups and the donut bag dangling from his pinky finger.
Clay started walking back the way he came, kind of sad to watch the last of the open stalls finally close. People were starting to leave because of the weather- groups of bundled up tourists and locals alike flooded through the park towards cars and subways to get home ahead of the bulk of the snow.
A buzz sounded in his pocket, so he carefully transferred one of the cups to sit in between his other arm and his side, not even feeling the heat through his layers. Clay pulled out his phone to see his notifications- some teasing texts from Sapnap to ‘ use protection ’ and ‘ don’t let Gogy stab you in your sleep ,’ but his latest one was from George.
‘ Hey idk where you went- meet me at the bench by the ice skating pond. Last one there has to be in Sapnap’s next video .’ Dream shoved his phone back into his pocket and put the drink back in the correct hand, before speeding off to where he recalled the bench to be.
He didn’t want to be a part of “ Minecraft, but every time I laugh a Wither spawns ” or some shit.
After a few near slips and his hands becoming the only part of him containing any warmth thanks to the ciders, he finally got to the bench. Unfortunately, there was a stupidly handsome british man already occupying the seat.
“I bet you texted me when you sat down here.” Dream complained, taking the seat next to George that the brit had wiped snow off of.
“So what if I did?”
“If you did that would be fraud, which renders any contract void-” Clay handed over George’s cider, which the older took gratefully into his cold hands’ the blonde felt electricity when their fingertips briefly touched. “So therefore, I have no obligation to be in Sapnap’s video.” He finished with a triumphant grin. George scoffed with a smile.
“I see that Community College law class really was worth the time.” Dream giggled and watched as the brit brought the cup up to his nose and took a sniff. “What is this?” He looked between his best friend and the drink suspiciously.
“Hot apple cider. I also got-” Clay looked to his side and picked up the small paper bag next to him and took out the donut, splitting it in half to offer some. “-apple cider donuts. They’re popular back home.” George thanked him and took the confectionary gratefully in his unoccupied hand, then went to take a sip of the drink.
Clay watched George for a moment- The snow was coating his hair and eyelashes minutely: the flakes were starkly light against his dark hair and irises. God, he was unfairly beautiful. The yellow light from the street lamps and Christmas lights gave his ivory skin a golden glow that made him look ethereal- just like the angel that was on top of the tree in his apartment. Tomorrow was Christmas, and Clay couldn’t believe that he was going to be spending it with his favorite person in the world. Sure he missed Patches, but his sister was sending him pictures regularly so he knew she was doing well. He could see his cat everyday.
He sighed slightly when George closed his eyes and hummed in enjoyment of the drink, the corners of his lips quirking up when he realized he was being watched.
Clay could be in the Florida heat every day. He could hear George’s voice whenever he wanted.
But he could only have George in person here, and now. He decided he wasn’t going to waste his time.
“Hey George?” He said, his voice feeling a bit muffled due to the thin blanket of snow that was beginning to accumulate on the grass. It was sparkling like diamonds; this was what he was missing living in such a hot climate. Snow was so much more than just frozen water: it was an experience.
“Yeah?” The other asked. He had just taken a bite of his half of the donut, and somehow he was still endearing even with his mouth full. Clay took a sip of his cider to calm his nerves and his now rapidly beating heart. The warm sweetness with a hint of cinnamon melting over his tongue warmed him to the core, and the expectant look on George’s face made him feel like he could do anything.
So he did.
Clay inched forward and reached out to tentatively grab George’s hand, and when he wasn’t rejected, continued to get closer. The brunette’s cheeks were dark with his blush, and his lips were a tantalizing pink. The sounds surrounding him were gone; completely muffled by the echo of his beating heart. In front of him, George’s stuttered breaths were punctuated by bursts of freezing carbon dioxide, and his wide eyes were sparkling like they were filled with the purest stars. It was Christmas Eve, and they were definitely feeling the magic as Clay leaned in nervously, leaving George plenty of time to back out if he was uncomfortable- he didn’t. Soon they were nose to nose, and Clay could smell the cider on the brit’s breath.
“Dream?” George whispered while Clay brought a hand up to the shorter man’s cheek to tentatively run a thumb tenderly over his cheekbone. They both smiled nervously at each other, their drinks forgotten on the seats next to them, legs pressed together.
“Call me Clay.” He said, then gently pressed their lips together for the first time, using his hand to guide his partner in.
The moment they collided, Clay instantly felt like everything in his life clicked into place. There was no war, no bomb, no virus, no nothing on the planet that could possibly be more important and world altering than that kiss, in that moment. It was perfect: it was everything he’d ever wanted. George’s lips were chapped but the blonde didn’t mind it one bit; it was a very George thing to not put on chapstick or care about how soft his lips were. Besides, how could Clay care about something as trivial as that when he was finally, finally, kissing that perfect man?
The blonde pulled away gently to look at George, whose eyes were wide and dreamy.
“We just-”
“We did.” Clay couldn’t wipe the dopey smile off of his face. He reached up to run his thumb over his bottom lip, savoring the slight tingle that remained. Despite his body being freezing, his core was full of warmth. It was a dream come true for most people to kiss the love of their lives surrounded by Christmas lights in the snow, and he just lived that in real life.
“I- fucking Sapnap was right.” George said. Clay wheezed out a laugh, leaning his forehead into the brunette’s warm shoulder. “Claaaaay it’s not funny, now I actually have to be in one of his videos.” He whined, but there was no real malice behind it, proven by the way his arms wrapped around the younger’s back.
“What, you make a bet that I’d kiss you?” The blonde asked, a bit of shyness seeping into his tone. George ran his fingers through his hair, which was starting to be weighed down by the snow accumulating in it.
“Nah, he just bet that you felt the same way I did. And I said he was fucking crazy and you would never in a billion years want to be with me, but…” He trailed off.
“-Buuuut?” George backed out of the hug and instead played with Clay’s fingers for a moment.
“I was wrong. And normally I would never admit to that, but for once I’m glad Sapnap was right about something.” George said, punctuating the statement with a hand squeeze.
“Me too.” Clay replied, launching into a body-shaking shiver soon after. Fuck, he was freezing. George rolled his eyes and got to his feet, pulling the taller man with him.
“Come on Florida boy, let’s get home before you freeze to death.” The blonde pouted dramatically and pulled George closer, placing another kiss on those pretty pink lips. The brunette pulled back with a grin. “If we don’t get home, Santa won’t come.” Clay’s eyes widened and he immediately stooped over to pick up their trash in one hand, and took George’s hand again in the other.
“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?” He exclaimed, before pulling George off into the snowy night, both men excited to see what the future would hold for them. (And the next morning, George revealed what he’d been hiding behind his back- a green and white beaded bracelet that Dream would go on to wear every single day without fail.)