Chapter Text
Clay was sitting at the airport, nervously tapping his leg against the floor. He was genuinely nervous, to the extent it was practically obscene and entirely uncalled for. George was about to land here, in Florida. He caught a plane from England to America's East coast more than 9 hours ago, the two of them talking up to the very point it was no longer possible.
They had this moment planned out for months, impatiently waiting for the traveling ban to be lifted. Wasn't it for covid they would have met approximately a year ago, the dangerous virus keeping them separated for far too long. It was a blessing that the pandemic was truly over with, things going back to normal, or at least closer to how they used to be.
As for the reason why Clay felt so nervous, it was probably because he still hasn't shown George what his face looks like, which right now he honestly debated if it was a good idea.
He was uncertain why he hadn't done it by now. He should have just given in one of the times George begged him to. It would have made this moment the slightest bit easier. Not having to think about whether his appearance was enough.
He could not understand why he was so anxious. Many people from their circle of friends had already seen his face, and he was perfectly okay with that. Maybe a little shy, but nothing compared to what was happening now. George was just different in some sense, and he had yet to figure out why. It was a little too late to think about it now, though. George was about to stroll through the arrival gate, searching for him. Clay was only hoping that he would be too disappointed.
When his phone started to ring, he almost dropped on the floor, trying to take it out of his pocket. With trembling hands, and voice he picked up the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” The voice on the other side of the line sounded exhausted. “I just landed. Where should I meet you?”
“I’m waiting near the baggage claim.” He said, trying to regain some control over his tone.
“Okay. I guess you will have to find me. The description of a tall, kind of blond dude is not really helpful right now.” George was unmistakably a little bit bitter about the no-face reveal. He had a full right to be. Clay hadn't truly treated him fairly when it came to the topic.
“Yea… Maybe my persistence wasn't that bright of an idea.” It certainly wasn't. Why did he do that? Ah, right. Because he was nervous to send a picture, so he decided to leave it for their first face-to-face meeting. As if it was supposed to be more manageable. It wasn't.
“You don’t say?”
The area Clay was sitting in started to slowly fill up. Person after person coming through the entrance, each of them carrying some kind of baggage. No sight of George just yet, though.
“Are you close?”
“Umm… Yea, I'll be there in a second.”
“Okay. I promise to find you before some other tall blond dude steals you away.” He tried to joke, but it came out a little bit stiff.
“Stop it. I swear I made prolonged eye contact with at least 3 people by now. I was very uncomfortable, and I hate you.” An awkward laugh burst of Clay's lips, and he wasn't sure if it was from George's intonation or just the sheer nerves. Poor George. Eye contact with strangers had to be near the very top of the list of things he dreaded the most. “Okay, I'm here.”
Clay stood up from his seat and started threading through the crowd while looking for the short brunette. It was really crowded by now and difficult to navigate. He kept on taking deep, slow breaths and holding them in to calm himself before the confrontation.
“Can’t find you. You’re too short.” He joked to George through the phone, trying to ease himself, his eyes jumping from person to person.
.
“Ha, ha, ha. You're so funny, Dream.” George didn’t sound one bit impressed.
“Hmn…” A glimpse of a familiar mop of hair blinked in the corner of his vision, making his heart jump. “Stay where you are - I think I see you.”
“I’m gonna get stomped over.” Groaned George, but sure enough, it was him that Clay caught sight of. He was standing kind of awkwardly in the middle of the hall with people dodging around him and throwing in his direction rude glances. He had his eyes directed at the floor, hugging his backpack tightly to his chest, one hand holding the phone to his ear.
As Clay got closer, he could discern just how tired the other looked. The whites in his eyes seemed a little bloodshot. His skin had an even paler than usual with a sheen of grey to it, and you could distinctly see the deep dark circles under his puffy eyes, standing out on his delicate features. Clay disconnected from the call, making him startle a little.
He smiled brightly, putting a brave face on, as George lifted his eyes and their sights crossed. He hoped that he didn’t look stupid. He could feel himself holding his breath, waiting for George’s reaction.
“Hi.” He said, almost breathlessly, his gaze looking at the tiny differences between real-life and on-camera George.
The other didn’t respond right away, staring at Clay and making him even more self-conscious. Och, god, did he look stupid? Was there something wrong with his face? Was he smiling too widely? Maybe he had something stuck in his teeth? He could feel himself panicking, his body freezing in space, waiting for a reaction. A couple of awkward seconds passed before George snapped out of his haze and instantly flushed a bright red color up to the tips of his ears.
“S- sorry. I’m kind of out of it.” He stuttered, clearly embarrassed. “Hi.”
“Yea, um… Welcome to Florida?” Clay responded, trying to sound natural but evidently failing. His heart was beating very loudly in his chest. Was his face okay? Was he as a whole? Did George like, or at the very least, not dislike the way he looked?
“Thank you for having me.” They continued to stare at each other, not knowing what to say next. “You look… good?”
Oh, he could feel some of the agitations leave his body. Maybe he was okay. He could tell that George meant what he said by the tone of his voice, even if it was unsure. The loosening of his nerves together with the awkwardness of the situation made Clay burst into laughter at the surrealism of it, George joining right in.
“What was that?” Asked Clay, finally reaching out to pull George closer and envelop him in a tight hug, at last feeling a little bit more like himself. He has been dreaming about this hug for far too long.
“That was so weird.” Responded George, still giggling. His hands settled on Clay’s back, gripping the green hoodie he had on. He fitted so perfectly just under Clay’s chin, so soft and warm. They stayed in this position until the laughter died out.
“You look tired.” Mentioned Clay as they separated and started moving towards the conveyor belt, dogging through the crowd and trying to stay close to each other.
“Yea, I… haven’t slept on the plain. It was just way too loud and cramped. I hope the bed you have for me is comfortable. If it’s not, I’m stealing yours - I don’t care.” He sounded serious about that.
“If you want to steep with me in one bed, you should just say so.” Teased Clay, slowly falling back into his usual self.
“You’re such an idiot.” The older man rolled his eyes. “Do something useful and help me find my suitcase.”
“What does it look like?” He asked, looking at the amount of luggage rolling out, most of which looked almost the same.
“Black.” George deadpanned.
“That narrows it down by like, 3.” Said Clay taking his eyes off the belt and back to George, who only raised one of his eyebrows in non-verbal mocking. “I’m not going to be helpful with that amount of information.” He elaborated, feeling a little exasperated.
“You don’t have to - I already see it.”
“Then why...?” Clay stopped the thought and shook his head, proceeding to ruffle George's hair making the other yelp in protest. “Which one is it?” George glared at him harshly, visibly not impressed with his treatment.
“The one with a green ribbon tied to the handle.”
Clay moved to get to it, setting it off the belt and extending the handle to pull it behind himself. He didn’t comment on the fact that George used a green ribbon as an indicator. He couldn't even see green.
“You can give me your backpack as well.” He said to George. “I want you to get to the car before you pass out from exhaustion.” George silently did as suggested, straightening slightly when the weight left his arms. The lack of protests further proving Clay's point.
The car was parked close to the exit gate. George hopped in on the passenger seat as soon as the doors were unlocked. Clay put the luggage in the trunk. He made sure everything was secured, and then they were on their way home. They traveled in silence, Clay not even turning the radio on, wanting George to fall asleep, the other’s eyelids sticking together, but him still stubbornly clinging to consciousness.
“You can sleep. I’ll carry you to bed if I have to.” He whispered in a soft voice to not shake the sleepiness off of George. That seemed to be enough for the brunette to finally give up and close his eyes completely. It was still quite early in Florida, so Clay would have to wake him after a few hours to make sure he would be able to have a full night of sleep later, but the nap was unquestionably very needed.
When they arrived at their destination, George was already asleep and mumbling something quietly. Clay had to carefully pull him off the seat and into his arms and maneuver opening all the doors to get him onto a mattress in a formally guest bedroom. George immediately snuggled into the blanket as soon as Clay converted him with it. He looked so precious like this, curled into himself and huffing soft puffs of air out his mouth.
Clay checked the time. It was just after noon, and George will be ravenous as soon as he wakes up. He could just order a pizza or some other fast-food, but he felt like the other might prefer something healthy and home-made after all the plane food he had. They had something in a fridge, so hopefully, he can throw something together for them before George wakes up.
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Clay was still standing near the stove, tossing some rice and vegetables on a frying pan, when George walked into the kitchen, yawning loudly. He glanced over his shoulder at the other, turning the heat down.
“I’m just about finished. You can just sit down and wait for a minute.”
“Oh, okay.” Quite shuffling reached his ears, symbolizing George taking his place at a table. “What did you make?” Clay reached for the plates dividing the dish into two portions.
“Oh, just some fried brown rice with veggies, really simple, but still healthier than any fast food. I thought you might appreciate it after all the plane meals.” He turned to face George, the other radiating an aura of helplessness with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. His face looked warm, the color much healthier after the nap.
“I… I do. Thank you.”
“No problem. How are you feeling after the nap?”
“Better, but still tired.”
“Hopefully, you’ll get some good sleep later.” He set the plates on the table. “Dig in.”
They ate in silence, the only sound accompanying them being the noise of cutlery against the platters. It felt comfortable, though. Like they did not need to make conversation to enjoy each other's company.
“You wanna play some Minecraft?” Asked Clay knowing that George didn’t have the energy for much more and would fall asleep if they decided on watching a movie.
“Sure.”
“Okay.” He responded and stood up, moving to wash the dishes. “I’ll figure out the setup in a minute, and then we can do whatever you want.”
Whatever George wanted to do turned out to be just creating their own little space in Minecraft together with a house, some pets, and a garden. It was nice to exchange ideas and build things together. They argued a bit about the design, punched each other in the game, and shoved a little in real life. It felt natural to have George right beside him rather than miles away in a completely different country. It was so much better to be able to see and hear George’s laugh in person. The monitor screen and headphones speakers hadn't done it justice. Hopefully, it could stay like this for longer.
They were done at 9, both of them a little hungry and ready for a break. Dinner was comfortable, Clay once again throwing something simple together for them while George watched from the dining table. They cleaned together and then separated into their individual bathrooms. Warm goodnights were exchanged, and George left, while Clay stayed up for a short time longer to do some editing of a video he planned on posting on his channel and then talking for a bit with Sapnap on Discord, telling him how the first meeting went.
Laying in bed, he played moments from their first day together in his head. It was almost sickening how happy he was just to have the other around, how easy it was to be near George, how many of his thoughts centered around him. He wanted to share everything he was fond of with George. He wished to take him to his favorite places, show the best views, share the best food, create memories in every corner of Florida. They had a lot of time together for that, George was staying for almost 1 month, but somehow Clay already knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
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