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Clay didn't know when it started.
He didn't know when he became nervous around men he usually felt a familiar ease with. He didn't know when he began to overthink basic interactions with his closest friends for fear of revealing something he wasn't even entirely sure of.
But more prominently, he didn't know when he began to see his best friend in a new, uneasy, nerve-wracking light.
They'd always been the closest duo of their friend group of 5, staying far past the time when others had left their usual gatherings in favor of talking or gaming under glistening moonlight.
Usually Clay would gaze at George with a friendly love, silently appreciating the role the brunet played in his life.
But he wasn't so sure anymore.
Now when they stayed together, his eyes unwillingly latched onto every small detail on the face that Clay now recognized as undoubtedly beautiful.
The dark amber eyes that shined brighter than the stars that looked down upon them from the open window they always sat under. The smooth alabaster skin, decorated with few freckles and a small dimple whenever the most breathtaking smile appeared across velvety lips; lips that Clay couldn't take his eyes away from as of late.
It scared him. So much.
So for nights on end he would waste every second gazing towards his plain white ceiling, thinking up scenarios and contemplating the daunting reality that was his sexuality, and feelings.
The latter scared him most. How would he tell his best friend of so many years that he had feelings for him?
Clay viewed it near possible every time they communicated, whether that be at school, a place that he usually saw as a getaway from the toxic environment that was his home, or at the very gatherings that caused him to question it all.
And for so long, Clay didn't know what to do. But his friends knew him too well, always able to pick out when he was troubled.
One in particular, a friend from Texas, who almost knew Clay better than he knew himself.
And so Clay wasn't exactly surprised when Nick confronted him during lunch, dragging him away from their group's usual table and to the tiled, empty hallway.
"What's going on with you, Clay?" Nick asked cautiously, hand dropping from its grip on Clay's bicep. "You've been acting' kinda weird, man."
Clay sighed, glancing towards the grey eyes that pierced his skin before drawing his gaze downwards. "Where do I fucking begin, Nick," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Anywhere, Clay. You know I'm here for you no matter what."
Grasping for something to say, Clay finally looked up as he whispered, "I think I'm gay, Nick."
Though Nick was rendered speechless for a moment, Clay knew the Texan wouldn't care, based off of the amount of times Nick preached about his love to their other friends.
"I'm proud of you, Clay. That can't be all, though," Nick finally said, chuckling as his eyes softened at the look of appreciation registering on Clay's face.
"How do you know me so well," he said with a twinge of sadness, glancing into the cafeteria and towards his friends, sitting laughing at something.
His eyes couldn’t help but find George in the midst of it all.
"I like George," Clay confessed, smiling lightly as he tore his gaze away from the angelic specimen and to Nick's. "So fucking much, dude. But I don't know how to tell him, or if he even likes guys."
Nick laughed, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure he likes guys, Clay."
"Are you sure?" Clay questioned, desperation lining his words in gentle orange, eyebrows furrowing.
A nod eases Clay's racing heart. "Yeah. And hell, he might be crushing on you, too."
"What makes you think that?"
Nick contemplated the inquiry with a lip pinched between his teeth, tilting his head as he looked over Clay's shoulder, most likely at the subject of their talk.
"He looks at you differently. Like, differently from everyone else." Nick took a breath, nose scrunching as he thought more. "He looks at you with something that's not a friendship type of love, Clay."
"How can you just say stuff like that so easily, bro?" Clay asked with a smile, shaking his head slightly as a light blush settled on his cheeks.
Nick also smiled, patting Clay's shoulder. "Because I've seen it with my own two eyes, bro," he said in a joking tone, directing two pointed fingers from his eyes and to Clay's, adding a complementary poke to the other's chest.
Clay felt himself soften as the shorter brought him into a hug, arms wrapping around his shoulders and embracing him tightly with the brotherly love they'd built up for so many years. "I really am proud of you, Clay," Nick said into the taller’s ear, patting his shoulder blades. And as he pulled away slightly, he said in such a chipper tone, "Now go get your man."
"I don't know about that just yet," Clay answered doubtfully, chuckling as Nick shot him a dirty look. "Fine, fine, I'll go 'get my man.' But not right now."
"Why not now? You could make it some big confession thing, bro. Like, buy a bouquet of flowers or some shit, bend down on one knee and confess it all like some prince. Or you could get a boombox, hold it up to his window tonight, and then tell him you're in love with hi-"
"And that's where I'll stop you, Nick," Clay interrupted with a laugh that they both shared. "Thank you so much, man."
Sapnap scoffed, glancing away with a smile that defied his otherwise casual presence at the moment. "That's what friends are for, bro."
And with that they both returned to the cafeteria table their friends inhabited, and Clay didn't even bother trying to hide the glances that he cast towards George.
His heart swelled as each time they were met with the softest smile and crinkled eyes.
Clay put off telling George for a while, a timespan that Nick wouldn't approve of.
For a few weeks he treated everything as normal, ignoring the way his heart soared every time a smile slipped onto George's face because of him.
He had his moments of weakness, ones where he'd be home alone, his room filled with gasps and heavy breaths as he...experimented. Ones where he almost slipped up and the words came tumbling out of his mouth during he and George's usual private moments.
And Clay liked to think, as the last friend of theirs left him and George alone, that he had finally worked up the courage to tell the brunet.
"The usual games, or do you just wanna chill tonight?" George proposed casually, all while Clay's stomach formed to a butterfly farm at the sight of the moonlight hitting the other's angular features too perfectly as he stood from the shining floorboards.
"Actually, can I talk to you about something?" Clay asked carefully, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap as he sat on the brunet's bed.
George sat beside him, smiling sweetly beneath dark hair that made his dark amber eyes even more dashing against his milky skin. "Sure, what's up?"
Clay's heart beat faster as their thighs grazed, something that usually never affected him previously as much as it did then. "It's kinda serious," he explained, unsure of how he could form the perfect words to come out.
A pale hand reached out and grasped an oppositely tan one, and George squeezed Clay's as he assured the blonde, "Take your time, Clay."
He's a goddamn angel.
Clay took a moment to let his eyes slide across the others face, fighting the urge to caress the cheeks before him that were lightly dusted with a light crimson.
"I'm gay, George." I said it.
"Oh."
Well fuck.
"Is that all you have to say?" Clay asked, smiling sadly as he dropped his eyes to his swinging legs.
He felt George adjusting his position on the bed as he said, "God no! I'm so, so proud of you Clay." There was a heavy pause that encompassed them as George sat wordless, and then he finally murmured, "But that's not all, is it?"
"You and Nick know me too damn well sometimes," Clay whispered with a smile and a quieted giggle, finally gazing into George's eyes.
The brunet tilted his head as a grin blossomed across his cheeks, cheeks that glowed red for a reason the blonde desperately wished to know.
"I love you George," Clay said slowly, too nervous to keep eye contact between him and the other. "I think I'm in love with you."
"You think?" George questioned playfully as tears sprung to his waterline, threatening to cascade down tainted cheeks as he chuckled gingerly.
Clay hummed in response, "Mhm," heart swelling as George inched closer, their knees knocking atop the plush comforter they sat on together.
"Well, I know I'm in love with you," George replied as he looped his arms around Clay's neck, sighing. "I love you so much, Clay."
"I love you, too, George, so fucking much," Clay breathed, brushing his nose against the other's.
Clay's hand came to find the space beneath George's ear while George's settled on the nape of the blonde's neck, and they connected their lips in an instant, identical smiles shared between their pressed lips as love poured through their touches.
Clay moved to hold George's face in his palms delicately, as if the brunet were made of glass, a sigh escaping George as he felt the way the taller held him with so much fondness and gentleness.
"You're an angel," Clay whispered as they broke apart, falling onto the pillows as their hearts beat in glorious unison.
"I love you so much," George said as kisses were peppered across his neck gingerly, Clay's arms wrapping around the smaller’s waist snugly.
It was a gentle embrace between two former friends at the dead of night, their breaths intermingling once more until they both fell into a steady rhythm as sleep overtook them.
Clay dreamt of certain cherry-flavoured lips and a saccharine voice, the lightest smile taking over his lips as he laid with his lover enveloped in his arms, the moonlight painting them in pale, muted colours as the room filled with a cotton-candy pink cloud of unfiltered and unbridled love.