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George knows Will is right as Alex slips silently from James’ flat. He knows that he’s the one to pick up the pieces when Alex inevitably shatters on their living room floor later that night. He knows he’s the only thing keeping Alex whole and has been for two years now. It’s terrifying.
He catches up to Alex in due time, drink cup crushed in his hand. Just two minutes ago, he was tucked into a tipsy Will’s side drinking a vodka Coke and now he’s standing in the cold next to an underdressed Alex.
He knows Alex nicked his hoodie - has always turned a blind eye to the ways Alex inserts himself into his life. Will’s pointed it out before how easily they slot together and George pushes down any swell of emotion at the thought of it.
Alex is fragile and George is his best friend first. If Alex thought George only did these things to scoop him up for his own later, he would never forgive George.
“Al?” George finds himself approaching Alex like a lost puppy in these situations. If George pushes too far, Alex will retreat into the recesses of his mind and George will lose the one bright spot in his life. He can’t afford for that to happen.
“You know I’m not breakable, right?” The accusation in Alex’s tone sparks an uncomfortable heat in George’s stomach not unlike the fancy vodka James poured him earlier. If there’s one thing James doesn’t skimp on, it’s his liquor cabinet. (He wishes he could trap himself in that drunken haze instead of dealing with this.)
“I know,” George admits, but Alex doesn’t look convinced.
“You all do it, you know. Treat me like some object to be displayed and then shoved back away when people are tired of looking at me,” Alex’s voice is steeped in bitterness. George doesn’t think he’s ever heard Alex talk like this.
“Will when he wants me to react to some video, you when you want to increase your numbers, and James,” Alex falters on James’ name, eyes shining with unshed tears. If this were any other time, George would think him beautiful in the moonlight.
“James when he wants to experiment,” Alex finally spits out, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his hoodie. He’s daring George to say something, to lash out like anyone else would. George knows him better than that - knows Alex hurts his own feelings to justify pushing everyone else away.
“You know that’s not true,” George wants to be furious at Alex’s words. It cuts deep that he thinks George only wants him for his YouTube career. George could not give less of a fuck about his numbers as long as Alex is happy. It’s always been Alex.
“At least for Will and I,” he amends as an afterthought. James is his friend and they’re civil for work and group outings. It doesn’t mean George has forgiven him, not for what James did to Alex.
To write a song about him years later and have his girlfriend glued to his side during the entire launch party is the insult to the injury. Alex deserves better. A part of George wants that ‘better’ to be with him. It’s not fair what Alex does to him.
Alex laughs, a hollow sound. It’s not the laugh that frequently rings through their flat when he’s FaceTiming Lewis or watching TikToks late at night. It’s not him.
“Can we just go home?” Alex says after a moment, the fight seeped out of him. George wants nothing more.
“Of course, Al.”
--
They collapse on the sofa not minutes after arriving back at their flat. It’s still too new, boxes strewn around. It doesn’t feel like theirs yet. George resolves to unpack more in the morning.
For now, he exists in this moment.
Alex was never mad at George. He’s mad at the situation, at James. At the end of the day, Alex is in his arms wearing his hoodie.
George runs his fingers through Alex’s hair absentmindedly as he listens to Alex’s breath even out. Alex falls asleep a lot like this, George wrapped around him.
It isn’t the same, but it’s enough.