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Growing up, George was taught to be successful. Even from a young age, his parents had him reading and writing constantly, using his brain power. Of course, they'd give him rest, but he'd be right back to learning afterwards. As he grew, it developed into his own free will. All eyes were on him. He knew. He knew he had to be successful because it's what made everyone proud. A tip for success, George learned, was to always put your priorities first. To set goals and follow through with them. So, from a young age, George has always put his priorities first.
The problem is, however, that he has very few priorities. Maybe when he went on his own as an adult, he was misguided or something, he's unsure. He ended up with two priorities. So what? Technically, there's no issue with only having two priorities, especially if they focus on his goals and dreams. They do… kind of.
Firstly, he does believe that tip. He's setting goals with his priorities, but the way his two priorities are worded may not seem that way. The first one is to be successful. It seems simple and confusing, a very broad term; like what do you mean? How are you going to get there? For George, his “be successful" priority — that really just sounds like a manifestation or encouraging quote — means doing whatever he can do to provide for himself until he gets his dream job. All he has to do is make money to pay bills until he lands his dream job. Part of this comes from his family always encouraging him. Since he followed their teachings so well, they would brag about him being a genius ever since he was a child. He assumes they’re right — he, in fact, did graduate college with a Comp-Sci major. He devoted his life to his studies and he graduated college with a trophy-worthy degree. He debates whether it was him just focusing on his studies or if he is actually smart. All he's ever known is to learn, be successful, and continue to be successful. After college, the next step, though, was to find a job that dealt with programming since he’s so advanced in it. Don’t get him wrong, he loves programming, but he does have a desire to just have fun. He assumes that’s why he has his other priority.
Dream. Dreamwastaken, his favorite YouTuber and streamer. Dream attempts to or just gets his friend Callahan to code Minecraft for him, and then he makes funny videos with his friends Sapnap and sometimes BadBoyHalo. It’s pure fun, but it’s also a challenge. That’s what George wants, that’s why George loves his videos. Dream's content gives him the serotonin he lacks and needs, it allows him to distress after rotting his brain with all of the programming and fears brought on by his parents. He still loves them. They are the ones that even assured him he could slow down, but he chose to keep going. He was too blindsided by the fear of failure and the fear of disappointing his parents.
Following in his parent's footsteps, George has always been taught to act calm and collected in order to seem professional. Another tip to be successful: be professional, even if it is an act. It's what all the teachers taught him growing up, and it's what collided with his fear of failure and forced him into this stoic human. George doesn’t ever let his true emotions show to people. Dream, however, Dream’s open about everything with his fans. George hopes Dream will one day rub off on him, and George will be able to loosen up. It’s hard having all this weight on his shoulders, but it’s also all he’s ever known. Even if he finds a cathartic release in Dream's content, what’s he supposed to do with all of the weight on him?
Ignore it. Focus back on his main priority. Be successful. Survive. Make money for himself. He was honestly lucky when he got the money to fly to Orlando, Florida just to visit for a few months while he waited on his Visa. His goal was to explore — seeing as he does want to relocate to the USA eventually — and get a part-time job. Fortunately, he was able to get an apartment and a part-time job. He’s able to scope for future potential jobs, too. He’s always on the lookout, going for interviews on internships or simple tours of programming jobs. Florida is good for him. As a bonus, Dream lives in Orlando, Florida. George doubts he’ll ever run into him because Dream’s faceless, but the thought makes George feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If not, he could always run into Sapnap, who lives with Dream.
In conclusion, Florida is great! It provides him with many possibilities that fuel his main priority and he has a part-time job that pays well. Thus, so far, he's doing well with his main priority. He's able to pay the bills and survive until he has to go back to the UK and continue his wait for his Visa. Unless it comes sooner. He hopes it comes sooner. Overall, he hopes he’s approved for it. Other than the agonizing wait, everything else in Florida is great. Well, there is one other thing that frustrates George beyond belief. His co-worker.
They met a month ago when George first started working at Target. It was the one closest to his apartment and it had been a few days of settling in and going to interviews, but they accepted him and he needed the money. He was so ready for his first day of work, minus the uniform. He was not excited about that. He got there on time and the boss walked him around and explained everything, which George did not expect at all. His name is Jude and he is the sweetest old man George has ever met. Jude informed George that he understood it might take a few days to get used to the store, but the other workers could answer any questions he had. Most of his questions went to the best employee Jude had, the employee-of-the-month, Clay. Clay is said co-worker that frustrates George.
George, giving him the benefit of the doubt, assumed he was in a bad mood that day. Clay had never insulted him or anything, but—George thought this was weird, too—he always stared. He’d barely talk and sometimes his face would screw into a grimace or painful expression—George is very unsure of what it actually was—and he’d stare at George and then... he'd just walk away. It was extremely weird and confusing at first, but then he’d even do it when George needed to be shown where an aisle or certain object was. After that, George then started diving deeper into this. He wanted to know why this guy did not want to talk to him or be around him. So, George tried getting to know the guy. Mission failed. He'd try to speak to him up close and the guy continued to ignore him, which then George tried defending Clay by thinking it was something mentally affecting Clay that George shouldn’t be upset about. That was quickly out of the running when Clay spoke to customers and his boss just fine. Thus, George assumed this Clay just didn’t like George. Because he was frustrated and stressed already (from outside sources), and a little upset by Clay, George decided he felt the same way about him.
George was okay with it, it honestly was kind of fun to have this ridiculous feud with his co-worker. Plus, yeah, George was being petty. If you'd ask, he would admit it. People get mad over little things all the time, he has every right to feel this way! Let him live. So, being petty and hating each other, he and Clay never talked during his first two weeks of working. He’d busy himself with the store or other customers to even pay attention to Clay. He wasn’t worth his time. George didn’t like him as well, what was the point in wondering why Clay hated him so much? His image, maybe, that’s all George could think of. Even if he worried about that, he'd just busy himself and ask the two other workers for help when needed. That's what kept George from thinking of Clay and the unfair dislike Clay had for him. As the time of him working hit a month, George had grown used to not hearing Clay. Yeah, it wasn’t normal because they’re literal co-workers, but they stay away from each other because they hate each other. To George, it made sense. It didn’t make any sense to everyone else.
Then, Clay did the unthinkable. And that was today.
George's day is not going well. He slept in, is still exhausted, and he was one of the last ones who clocked into work today. This is all because he had stayed up late watching a Dream stream, which is his own fault, but Dream hadn’t streamed in a while so he wasn’t going to miss it.
He grabs his badge and scans the small room as he clocks in. He thinks for a moment; recalls when he walked into the building and what he saw, or lack-there-of.
“Where's Clay?" George asks one of his co-workers, Alethia. She has long curly brown hair, pale skin, and dark brown eyes. She's gorgeous and an absolute sweetheart. She glances around the room, just like George, then shrugs. Their other coworker, Kit, answers for her, “Guess you beat him here. Aren't you happy?" George rolls his eyes. Alethia waves at them with a big smile as she exits the room. Kit walks over to him and they walk out of the staff area together.
Kit’s just as gorgeous. They have blonde hair with bangs, along with a wavy wolf cut that falls to their mid-back. They have warm brown eyes, brighter than Alethia’s, but are just as sweet.
“Shut up," he jokes. They raise an eyebrow and gently knock into him as they walk. George thinks nothing of it.
“Shouldn't I be the one to say that? Your little feud is stupid. Remind me again as to why you both hate each other," Kit teases. George's answer sounds almost rehearsed as he begins it exactly like the last time he explained it. He stops immediately when he spots a certain someone walking through the front door. Kit grins. They lean closer to George and whisper, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear."
Clay has a tray full of Starbucks drinks. He makes eye contact with Kit and smiles, and when they move to George, the smile doesn't falter. He's getting closer and George is positive he's going to stand right in front of him and Kit. Alethia comes up to be beside George on his left, and Clay smiles at her too. What is going on? This is not George's co-worker, Clay, standing in front of him. Maybe he has a nice twin and this is him? He could even be a nice clone, anything sounds more reasonable than this actually being Clay.
“I brought drinks!" Clay announces, his voice full of enthusiasm. George feels like a wave hits him full force. Water is filling his lungs and stomach. He sucks in a shaky breath, furrows his eyebrows, and stares up at Clay.
“You don’t drink coffee,” Alethia mentions, swaying on her feet. Clay smirks and winks at her, “Who said I got myself coffee?” Kit lets out a loud groan. “Please, don’t tell me you got a cup of water,” they sigh. Clay balances the tray with one hand and picks up his drink from the tray with the other. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. He sets his drink back in the tray and hands everyone their order one at a time, and he even calls out what it is as he hands it over.
“How do you know my order?“ George questions. He tries to appear disgusted, but the astonishment slips through. Clay smiles softly and shrugs. “I just asked Kit.”
George scoffs and turns to them. They sip their coffee and raise their free hand in defense.
“You’re welcome for the drink.” They hold up their hand in half of a heart with their pointer and middle fingers. George rolls his eyes. Clay takes his drink out and hands the tray to Kit so they can throw it away. They wave to Clay and George as they walk off to get to work. Alethia follows after.
Clay stares quizzically at George. George squirms nervously. “What do you want?” George asks a little too aggressively. Clay raises his eyebrows, but his face goes blank.
“When I said I had drinks…” he pauses, “why did you give me a weird look?” George’s eyes widened.
“Oh, you just- you sounded kind of familiar,” George answers honestly.
Clay raises an eyebrow. He asks, “Who?” George tilts his head slightly, studying Clay. Now, if Clay was Dream, he’s sure pure shock would take over his features if George said it was Dream. They do sound similar, so George takes his shot.
“Dream. Dreamwastaken is his handle. Have you ever heard of him?” George answers.
Clay stays completely still. He doesn’t freeze up, nor does he look like he’d just gotten busted.
“I might have heard of him. I don’t watch his stuff though. I sound like him? I’ll have to listen,” Clay responds nonchalantly. Okay, now George is convinced. There are many tiktokers he stumbles upon anyway that sound eerily similar to Dream, Clay could be one of them. Maybe his laugh is different or he enunciates his words differently. Either way, Clay is not Dream. Even if he was, George would refuse to accept it. There’s no way Dream would act so rude.
George shakes his head as a way to clear his thoughts.
“So, since when are we on speaking terms?” George crosses his arms and cocks a hip. Clay tilts his head, looks George up and down, and smiles devilishly.
“What are you talking about?” Clay questions, playing innocent. George stands up straight immediately. He scoffs, “What do you mean? You know what I’m talking about. Do I need to refresh your mind?” Clay grins, his pearly whites and fangs shining in the light.
“Yeah, yeah, I think you do,” Clay mimics George’s previous stance. His crossed arms appear more intimidating due to his height. George huffs, “Well, I’m not.” Clay nods, then waves with two fingers and a smirk on his lips before he walks off. “Nice speaking with you, George.”
—
George stands behind the cash register, waiting for someone to walk into his line. He itches to reach for his phone to entertain himself, but he stands strong. Soon, a person enters into his aisle. It’s not a customer, however, it’s Jude. Jude smiles brightly at him and pats him on the shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, “George, I need you to move to restocking duty.”
“Got it, sir,” George responds, sounding like a lieutenant. He walks off to the back of the store and his face immediately falls. He groans, “Clay, what are you doing here?” Clay flashes his pearly whites at George, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “George! I’m working restock, duh,” Clay answers him. He flips over the notepad in his hand to show it to George.
“I’ve got a list of what needs to be restocked. Either we could both restock, or one of us rolls the cart and the other holds the list,” Clay suggests, motioning to the cart full of boxes with his free hand. A smirk tugs on one corner of the brunet’s lips. He steps over and snatches the notepad out of Clay’s hand. Clay sighs and drops his head, but a smile stays on his lips. The blond rolls his eyes and takes the cart. George calls out an aisle and Clay rolls the cart to it. They organize the products on the shelf and restock them. They continue to go around the store, mainly Clay restocking and George reading off the list. Clay constantly runs into George, which forces a glare from George. They’re on the last product when Clay speaks his mind.
“You look good today,” Clay compliments. George presses his lips into a thin line, glaring up at Clay. His voice is full of malice as he speaks, “As opposed to every other day?” Clay opens his mouth for a rebuttal, but George adds onto his sentence. “Also, I’m in my Target uniform.”
“So? It’s your hair or something. You look more alive,” Clay explains. George rolls his eyes and crosses his arm, then unfolds them to motion towards the cart. He snorts, “Weird, because I feel dead when I’m around you. Killjoy.” Clay knits his eyebrows together, staring at George in confusion. He grabs the cart and pushes it, following George to the back of the store. Once they’re in the back, Clay speaks up. “Why are you acting like that? Do you hate when people compliment you? Or, are you homophobic?”
“What? N-no! Neither of those,” George splutters, almost sounding like a fish out of water. Clay crosses his arms, locking his frame. Venom is in his voice as he spits, “So what? Is it me, then? George, I have given you nothing but kindness. I brought you your favorite drink, I have covered for your ass several times, and I smile at you everyday. Why do you act like such a child around me?”
“Oh,” George breathes softly, “I didn’t know you’ve covered for me.” Clay nods his head aggressively. “When you’ve come in almost late and tired, or sometimes when you have been late. I’ve lied for you.”
“I- I’m sorry,” the brunet apologizes. Clay sighs harshly and runs a hand through his blond curls, somehow managing to not tangle his fingers in them. “Whatever,” he grumbles before walking off.
George stands there alone, his eyes stuck on the open door. His pride lays on the ground, stomped to bits. Clay seems like a genuinely nice person, and George just made him yell, something neither of them have done before to one another. It’s always been glares—well, glares from George. Clay… Clay’s done nothing but smile, it’s true. The brunet slowly steps out of the storage area and wanders around, part of him hoping he runs into Clay. He eventually spots him in the figurines section and hesitantly walks forward. It’s time for a change.
“Hey,” he greets softly. Clay side eyes him, then focuses on organizing the figurines on the shelves. “What?” Clay asks, annoyance laced in his voice.
“I think you got a terrible impression of me, and I was hoping we could start over,” George suggests, pressing his palms together in an attempt to plead. The blond sighs and George watches his chest rise and fall with the action. He turns to George with his hands folded together. “I’ll forgive you, if you let me take you out.”
“Like on a date?” George gasps, almost choking on the sudden oxygen that fills his lungs. Clay nods his head firmly and unfolds his hands. George thinks for a moment, really thinks, before deciding his choice. He wants to be on better terms with Clay, so he decides the best option. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you. I don’t understand why you would want to, since I’ve been so mean to you.”
“Forget that. We’re starting over, right? Or am I really a killjoy, then?” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, concerned George was genuine about his statement. George chuckles, placing a hand on his neck nervously. “You’re not,” he reassures.
“You know I’ve liked you for a while, right?” Clay questions. He sways from side to side, eventually dropping his weight on one hip. His arms are crossed, a defense prepared for George’s response. “Oh, no. I didn’t know,” George admits. He was too busy being caught up in hating the man, but now, it explains Clay’s actions well. George regrets ever dissing the blond.
“Oh,” Clay breathes gently. “So, I’ll pick you up at three tomorrow?”
“Is there a dress code?” George asks, leaning up on his tiptoes into Clay’s space. He assumes it’s Clay’s confession that has boosted his spirits about him. Suddenly, he feels much more comfortable and open to the idea of Clay. It can’t be anything else. It can’t be the attraction George has always secretly held for the blond.
A smile breaks out across Clay’s face. “No.”
“Okay, see you at three then.”
—
George is sinking. Metaphorically, he’s on a boat that defines his idea of Clay—a rude and terrible person—and he’s going down with it. The brunet’s mind is racing, along with his pounding heart he swears is about to beat out of his chest. He needs to find an escape route, but what if the only escape is the path where you catch feelings for someone you used to dislike and now have no reason to?
Clay is the sweetest guy he has ever met. He exudes kindness and comfort, always asking George how he’s doing or rubbing down his arm softly. George feels like he’s going to melt into the couch he sits on. He tries to distract himself with the cats—which, of course, Clay took him to a cat café—but it doesn’t help. The blond sits right beside him, so close their thighs press up against each other’s. George is going to pass out, the heat he feels from the man is already making him see stars.
“Hey, do you want anything to drink?” Clay questions, leaning into him. George leans away slightly to focus on his own breathing. He parts his lips as he thinks, then decides on the best option for the situation. “Yes, just get me a cold frappe or something,” he answers. George takes a deep breath as he watches the blond leave. Now, he can admire from afar.
George is honestly relieved this feud is over. Partly because he now has a friend—maybe something more, but also because he can now embrace the amount of beauty Clay has. He’s absolutely adorable with a cat beanie atop his head, it’s colorful pattern bringing out the brightness of his hair and eyes. He has a strong frame and George swears he glistens in the sun. No, he is the sunshine.
George’s dark eyes stay on the man until he turns to walk his way. He looks at the ginger cat on his lap and runs his hand through her soft orange fluff. The action makes him imagine carding his fingers through Clay’s curls, he wonders if his fingers would slide perfectly through the soft curls or if he’d hum in response. George shakes his head—a way to discard his thoughts—as Clay steps in front of him. He doesn’t understand why Clay has taken over so much of his brain.
“Here’s your frappe, it’s caramel. I hope that’s okay.” Clay smiles softly, handing him the drink. George nods and takes it immediately. The brunet sips on it quickly, ignoring the cold that rushes to his head. Clay watches him for a moment before focusing back onto the cats. A calico cat jumps onto Clay’s lap, drawing George’s attention to it. His eyes zone in on Clay’s hand—specifically, the rings he wears. George needs to leave. He’s melting into this fluffy couch all because of Clay and his cat beanie and his rings. He’s stupidly gorgeous, George decides.
Clay seems to take notice of his change in demeanor. He sits up slightly and turns to face him, extending an arm out to place his hand on George’s thigh. He sighs gently, “Are you okay? Is this too much?” George’s eyes are like tiny beads as he glances at Dream in horror. He manages to put a smile on his face and shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. It’s just… new.”
“New,” the blond chuckles, “Yeah, I get that. Is it… welcoming?” George places his hand on top of Clay’s and realizes how big he is compared to himself. He smiles nonetheless—a genuine smile. “Very much so.”
“Shall I take you home now?” Clay questions, a warm smile on his pink lips. George intertwines their fingers and nods his head. They give the cats a bunch of pets before exiting the cat café and getting into Clay’s car. Clay drives back to George’s apartment and they sit in a parking space in front of his building.
“I really enjoyed today,” Clay confesses. George turns and grabs the blond’s hand, more confident in his actions. He plays with Clay’s fingers and hums. “I had a very nice time. We will have to do it again.”
“So you’ll have me on another date?” Clay looks like a puppy hearing that they’re going on a walk, his smile is so bright. George laughs wholeheartedly and lets go of his hand, turning to open the car door. He unbuckles and jumps out, then faces Clay. “Of course. See you next time.”
He blows him a kiss before walking inside of the building. He walks up the stairs that feel endless until he reaches his floor, then unlocks his door and steps in. The brunet searches through his cabinets before deciding on cooking some pasta for an early dinner. He cooks the noodles, then slides to the sink to drain them. As he’s dumping them into a pan, his phone goes off. He grabs it from the counter and immediately gasps. Dreamwastaken is live! the notification reads. George gets his stream playing and quickly cooks the sauce into the noodles, trying his best to watch while safely cooking. Once he’s done, he takes his plate full of pasta to his bedroom and lays on the bed.
George watches him intently, focuses on his words and actions in Minecraft. He notices Dream seems more upbeat than usual. That makes him happy. His mind wanders to Clay, then back to Dream. For a moment, he wishes Clay was Dream. He wishes he never hated the man, wishes they won’t have to discuss it later down the line when they’re officially together. He wishes Clay was always nice, but really, that’s all he’s ever been, so George wishes he was the nice one. He ridicules himself for ever acting so petty. And for the first time, he cries while watching Dream.
—
George’s head dropping onto the scanner jolts him awake. As he rushes to pick it back up, a laugh sounds from his right. He glances down the aisle to see those familiar dirty blond curls. The brunet wipes the drool off of his cheek and adjusts his uniform before Clay steps right in front of him. The taller one laughs again and flashes a dopey grin. “Stay up watching Dream again?”
“How did you know?” George groans, rubbing a hand across his face. Clay wiggles his eyebrows. “I finally checked him out, saw he was live last night. I assumed you would be watching him, and judging from how you are right now, I’d say I am right.”
“Of course you’re right,” George sighs, then glances to the right to see a woman down the aisle. Clay follows his gaze, then walks around to join him behind the cash register. George scans the items and bags them while Clay loads them into the woman’s shopping cart. “Your total is 52.36,” George informs her. She pays and he gives her her receipt. Once she’s gone, Clay spins him around by his belt loop.
A hand slides through George’s dark oak hair and down to his salmon pink cheek. The shorter one feels the pressure at the corner of his lip where Clay’s thumb resides. He watches the blond’s olive green eyes—that he so deliciously wants to dive into—dart down to his lips, then back up to stare into his chocolate brown eyes. Clay leans forward and inhales; George believes he’s breathing him in. “When can you clock out? I want to walk you to your car.”
George checks his watch and gasps, shooting his head up to stare up at Clay again. “I can clock out now,” he answers. Clay shoos him off with both of his hands. George quickly goes to clock out, then meets Clay at the front doors. The blond clasps their hands together before they walk out of the door and to George’s car. Clay stops him at the trunk by grabbing his waist. He orders him to wait.
The taller one sighs deeply and licks his lips, staring down at the soft boy he has in his hands. Clay’s more fragile than George, his hands shake where they lie on George’s hip and waist. He realizes his hand placement and jerks his hands off of the man, dropping them by his sides. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly.
George shakes his head, a bright smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay,” he reassures.
“When you smile, your lips form a sideways three. I love that, I love your smile,” the blond notes, taking George’s hand in his. The shorter one begins to play with his fingers, admiring the difference in size. He tilts his head down to focus on his action, and looks up at Clay through his lashes. “Thank you,” he breathes gently, “Do you want to kiss me, Clay?”
“Very much so,” Clay answers, a crooked grin on his perfect face. George would love to kiss it off of him or kiss into it, but he had a much better idea. He plants a smirk on his lips. It worsens when he sees Clay catch sight of it. George teases him, “What happened to your cocky attitude? I miss that, it drove me insane.” Clay’s eyes widen, a new interest lit up inside of them. He takes a step back before pushing George up against the trunk of the car with a hand on his waist. “Well, I did that easily.”
“Shut up,” George groans lightly, covering his face with his hand out of embarrassment. He peeks through his fingers to look at the blond, then places his hand on Clay’s shoulder. Slowly, he moves his hand to the back of his neck and pulls him down to be face to face. He whispers, “Kiss me.”
So Clay does.
The kiss starts off slow. George finally cards his fingers through those soft dirty blond curls. He combs his fingers up and down and even tugs at one point, eliciting a hmph from Clay. The blond deepens the kiss by wrapping his arms around George’s back and dipping him. George squeals and tightens his grip on Clay’s neck. He pulls away to speak, “Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Clay laughs, pulling George back up. He dives right into his lips again and hums into another kiss. Once they’re separated, he says, “Thank you for that.” George’s chest vibrates with a laugh. “You’re really thanking me?” he questions in disbelief.
“Uhm, duh,” Clay answers like it’s obvious. George can’t help but smile. The brunet pats Clay’s cheek gently before sighing. “We both need to head home now.”
“Okay. Can I take you out again tomorrow after work?” Clay questions. George immediately nods. “Where are you taking me?” he inquires.
“It’s a surprise.”
—
“Pssst,” a whisper is heard from George’s left. The corners of George’s lips quickly turn upwards into a bright smile. He focuses on organizing the can on the shelf in front of himself until the person who whispered runs up and tickles his sides. He jumps away from the man, almost knocking into the shelf from how far he moves. His eyes are wide with fear as he stares at his attacker. “Clay, what are you doing?”
“Do you want to have some fun?” Clay questions, wiggling his eyebrows. Carbon dioxide leaves George’s mouth as he sighs. “Did you forget we are literally at Target, the place where we work?” George asks, pushing on Clay’s arm playfully.
“No, I just want to have fun with my… you,” Clay explains, a nervous flush on his cheeks and nose. George snorts, “Your… me?” Clay groans and turns away to hide. “Shut up.”
“What’s your idea of fun?” George inquires. A smirk makes its way onto the blond’s lips. He grabs a can from the top shelf, resulting in furrowed brows from George. “This,” he states before taking off running.
“Where do you think you’re going with that? I need that, Clay!” George shouts, then he runs after him. The brunet chases him up and down several aisles, both of them laughing nonstop. Clay runs back to the aisle where George was stocking and stops, forcing George to run straight into him. He slams right into the man’s chest and stares up at him, a look of defeat in his eyes. Clay holds the can way above his head, out of George’s reach. The shorter one pants heavily, “Please, give that back to me.” Clay beams at him and slowly lowers it down. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
“You’re unbelievable.” George places a hand on his chest to collect his breathing. The blond swoops down and presses a kiss to his cheek. George melts into the touch and spins around so he’s facing Clay. He looks up at him through his lashes—his way of asking for something—and then sticks out his bottom lip. Clay sighs, “I’m unbelievable? Look at you.” George shrugs and leans on his tiptoes, waiting for Clay to come down and kiss him. Eventually, he does. They share a sweet kiss, not wanting to startle random customers or co-workers that might pass by.
“Can we go now? We have a date to get to, remember?” Clay mentions once they pull apart. George chuckles and stares up at the top shelf where Clay took the can from. He slaps the can into the blond’s hands before walking away. “I don’t have the energy to reach up there. See you at your car!”
George manages to make it to Clay’s car before the man comes running out after him. He tackles him from behind, wrapping his arms around the brunet’s waist. George giggles, “You’re such an idiot.”
“Get in the car, George,” Clay orders, letting go of him to walk to the driver’s side. George gets in on the passenger side and Clay starts the car. He pulls out of the parking spot and begins to drive to the location of their date. After a while of being on the road, George speaks up, “This is a long drive. Where are you taking me?” Clay chuckles and pats George’s thigh with his right hand. It lingers for a moment before George grasps it, intertwining their fingers and letting their hands rest on the center console. The blond flashes his pearly whites and George swoons. “We’re almost there,” the blond states. Soon, they pull up to the area and Clay parks them safely. George stares out at the horizon, completely astonished. “You took me to the beach.”
“There’s more to the surprise,” Clay says, hopping out of the car to get stuff out of the back seats. He comes around the front of the car with a blanket and lighter. He explains, “Now, I didn’t know where I’d keep a whole picnic basket with food, so I hope you’re not hungry. Follow me.” George follows him down the path and across the sand until they reach a spot with a fire pit. Clay lays the blanket down close enough to the fire pit where they’ll be warm but safe, then he lights the fire with a piece of paper from his back pocket. George lays down on the blanket and Clay joins him.
George scoots closer to lay his head on the blond’s chest. Together, they watch the sky morph from painted lines of blue, pink, and orange to black with speckles of white paint. George lets out a content sigh and points up at the stars, moving his finger to connect them together. He breathes gently, “They’re so beautiful.” Clay nods and George can feel where his chin comes down to rub his hair. Silence embraces them, welcoming them with comforting arms. Clay finally gains the courage to speak, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
George turns onto his side more to look into Clay’s green eyes. George nods his head slowly and inches forward, his hand coming up to cup Clay’s jaw. Their lips collide and the feelings they share for each other pour out of them like a waterfall. George clings to the blond, one hand against his jaw and the other fisted into his shirt. Clay caresses George’s cheek and wraps an arm around his back, pulling him closer and closer. Their legs tangle together as they kiss into the night, neither wanting to let go.
—
“Your apartment is cozy,” Clay compliments, studying the space around him. George rolls his eyes and tugs on the man’s hand, pulling him to the bedroom. George clears his throat, “And this is my bedroom, where we’re going to be hanging out at.” He flops onto the bed and turns, wiggling his pointer finger to motion Clay over. The blond joins him on the bed, kicking his shoes off as he slides on. Clay cages him in and peppers kisses all over George’s face, causing his face to blush a beautiful rosy red. He giggles and lightly smacks at Clay’s face, trying to push him away before he wraps an arm around his neck. He pulls him down so their lips meet in a passionate kiss. Once they pull away, George chuckles. “I have something to share.”
“What is it?” Clay inquires. George plays with Clay’s curls as he thinks of how to word his sentence, looking away from him out of embarrassment. He comes to a decision. “Okay, so remember how I was mean to you?” he asks, then continues when Clay nods, “I hated you. You always looked at me and would never talk to me and I took it as rude, and so I was petty and- you get the idea. I'm sorry now.”
Clay’s jaw is practically on the floor. He scoffs, “I knew it! It makes so much sense. You didn’t know I liked you! That is absolutely hilarious.” The blond rolls over to lie on the bed due to how hard he’s laughing. George smacks him on the stomach gently, causing the man to fake a groan and curl up into a ball. He eyes George and sees him roll his eyes. He gasps when he comes to a realization, “Oh, my God, you meant it when you called me ‘killjoy.’ Look where we are now, I’m in your bed!” He bursts out laughing again. Once he has settled down after several pats on his head, he crawls back over to be above George. Their eyes meet, connecting them together in hypnosis. They feel drawn to one another—the attraction is unbelievable. George hums and pulls him down again so they can kiss again. Clay pulls away to mumble, “I am so infatuated with you.”
“As am I,” George whispers. He presses a kiss on Clay’s cheek, then peppers them down until he kisses his lips. Clay vibrates their mouths as he groans. “Quit being poetic.”
“You first,” George challenges. Clay presses their lips together forcefully. Their tongues battle until defeat, Clay giving in to George. George smirks into the kiss. He pulls away and boasts, “I win!”
Clay rolls his olive green eyes and dives back into the brunet. He kisses him until they both run out of breath and Clay decides it’s time to leave.
—
George’s priorities have advanced to three. The third one is Clay. The blond walked into his life and spun it around, jumbled the idea he had of himself. He made George act irrationally and broke his stoic nature. However, he turned it into something greater, something better. They’ve been dating for six months now and George is honestly a changed man. He’s on the path to being successful, he’s doing great at his job (even if it’s at Target). He keeps up with Dream and catches all of his streams. And he’s an excellent partner. Dream and Clay together have turned George human, they have made him into a man who feels. It’s all he’s done for the past six months. He believes it’s time for a confession.
The brunet rolls over in the bed and brings his hand up to Clay’s face. He gently slides his finger down the man’s cheekbone and across his chin, far across to caress the left side of his jaw and stroke his lips with his thumb. Clay stirs, rolling his head sideways to face George. He murmurs, “Five more minutes.” George sighs softly and studies his face, admiring the freckles that dot his features perfectly. He leans forward and presses a kiss on one freckle, then another, and then another until he has kissed almost all of the freckles on his face. When he pulls away, there’s a dopey grin planted on Clay’s face. George matches it and decides it’s time. “Clay,” he starts, “you have become a part of me that I will cherish always. I’ve never known someone like you. You are my sunshine, you make every day bright and happy. I am so lucky I have gotten to know you on such a deep level. I just wanted to tell you that I- I love you.”
Clay’s eyes immediately open wide and his mouth falls agape. He takes a deep breath and wraps his free arm around George’s back to pull him into his chest. George rests his head in the crook of the blond’s neck, breathing in the sweet scent of the man. Clay lets out a shaky breath. “I love you so much.”
George comes back up to connect their lips together. They both smile into the kiss, then wrap their arms around each other in a tight squeeze. Clay tries not to cry.
—
They wake up to the birds chirping, celebrating the night they shared together. A night full of love, tender kisses, and intimate embraces. George admires the work of art he has left on Clay’s skin, deep maroon marks George delicately placed. He has some of his own, Clay mentioned they contrast well against his ivory skin. George flushes at the memory and squirms, turning onto his side to tuck his face into the man’s broad back. He mumbles into his skin, “Clay, wake up.”
“That tickles,” Clay giggles, pulling away from the brunet. George wraps his arms around his frame the best he can. “I don’t care, I want to cuddle my lover.”
“Oh, shut up. We’ve got to go.” Clay turns around to face him. George presses a kiss to his lips before he slips out of the bed to put his uniform on. He dresses into his uniform at the dresser while Clay changes at the bed. The brunet eyes him and realizes he’s not dressed for work. George gasps, “What about your uniform?” Clay smirks. “I’ve got an extra in my car. Always be prepared.”
George rolls his eyes and walks out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Clay runs out to his car to get his uniform, then comes in and changes. George fixes them bowls of cereal. They eat quickly, then get into Clay’s car to go to work. Once they are there, they share a quick kiss before Clay walks off. George watches him leave, a soft smile on his face. He’s happy.
—
George’s work day is going by slowly. He’s mainly had to do restocking, the most tedious task besides pricing. He’s thankful he hasnt had to price items today and put them into the system. He walks through the aisles, pushing the cart full of boxes carefully. The brunet lines up the cans on the shelf, logo facing out, then he continues onto the next aisle. He even has to organize the baby department. He checks his watch and sighs, it’s break time.
He walks to the back and meets Alethia and Kit in the staff area. Kit greets him with a bright grin. “George, it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve talked,” they remark. Alethia eyes them nervously. George snorts, “You see me at break almost every day.” Their smile falters for a moment, but they quickly pick it back up. “What have you been up to? How are things with your enemy, Clay?” they question. The taller one immediately flusters. He scoffs, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. We’ve seen you two together,” Kit admits. George grabs his salad out of the fridge and sits down to eat. He shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kit and Alethia sit down with him. Kit stares at him with thin lips while Alethia has a toothy grin on her lips. George glances back and forth between the two. He lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine, we’re dating. We are-” he fakes a gag, “in love.”
“Oh, this is so exciting. You have to tell us everything,” Alethia squeals. George dives into the story of Clay confronting him, their first date, their first kiss, their first ‘I love you,’ everything. He allows himself to gush about his boyfriend and Alethia and Kit enjoy every bit of it. When he’s finished, the break is over. He throws away his salad tray and Alethia waves goodbye as she walks off to continue working.
Kit and George exit together, walking to the front of the store where checkout is. “Let’s go see your boyfriend,” they exclaim. George beams and nods, but then his eyes zone in on someone. He breathes out a harsh breath, “Holy shit.” Kit’s eyes widen and they freeze immediately, grabbing George’s wrist for safety. “What? What is it?” they question.
“It’s Sapnap!” George exclaims in disbelief. Kit follows his gaze to find Sapnap. “Like, the one who plays with Dream, right? You watch both of their content.”
“I inhale their content, Kit. Oh, my God, what do I do? Do I go up to him? What do I say? Holy shit, he’s talking to Clay,” George rambles, on the verge of hyperventilating. Kit rubs his shoulders and pushes him forward so they can walk to Sapnap together. They watch Clay and Sapnap talk for a moment before Clay turns his head and sees George. He quickly mumbles something to Sapnap and Sapnap meets George’s eyes. George is lightheaded once he steps in front of both Clay and Sapnap. George composes himself before he speaks, “Hi, I’m George. I am a huge fan. I’ve been watching you and Dream for a while now. I love what you do, you’re hilarious.”
“Thank you, it means so much to me. Did you want a picture?” Sapnap responds. George looks down at his own uniform and sighs. “How about a selfie? I didn’t expect to meet you in a Target of all places,” he suggests. He pulls out his phone and situates himself beside Sapnap, then holds it up with the camera on. Sapnap holds up his signature thumbs up and George flashes a bright smile. He snaps the picture and pulls away from Sapnap. “Thank you, sorry to bother you.”
“No, it’s okay, really. I better get going now, though,” Sapnap says, pointing at the door with his thumb. George furrows his eyebrows, a frown planted on his lips. “You didn’t even buy anything.”
“Right. Do you have any toys Patches might like? You know Patches, right?” Sapnap questions. George nods and motions for him to follow. He takes him to the animal section and showcases all of their cat toys. Sapnap picks out one that has a ball that she can chase around in a circle, then they walk to checkout together. George scans the item and bags it—he feels extremely special when Sapnap pays at his cash register. He hands him the receipt and waves goodbye. “It was lovely meeting you.”
“You too, George.” Sapnap waves at him and exits the store. George lets out a content sigh.
—
George adjusts his tie in the mirror, then admires his suit. He cleans up nicely, especially when he has a hot date. He’s extremely proud of himself too. He’s turned from a grumpy man to a glowing beam of light, he can sense it in the way he looks now. His phone chimes with a text message from Clay letting him know he’s here. George practically sprints out of the front door and down the steps. He quickly hops into the car and Clay drives them to the fancy restaurant. He says his name and the host walks them to their table.
“Thank you for taking me here,” George says once they sit down. Clay flashes his pearly whites and fangs and George feels like he’s melting into his seat. Soon, their drinks come and Clay orders them to a toast. He holds up his glass and George clinks his against it. “What are we celebrating?”
“Us,” Clay answers honestly. George grins before taking a sip of his wine. He sets his glass down and smirks. “You look good.”
Clay scoffs, almost choking on his water. “‘As opposed to every other day?’” He quotes George from months ago. George rolls his eyes playfully. “Ha. Ha.”
The dinner goes by swell. They talk and giggle. George ends up getting tipsy—actually, he’s drunk. The brunet clings to Clay as they walk out. The taller one has to help him get into the car, but then everything is smooth sailing. That is until they get to the apartment complex. Clay has to help him up the flight of stairs, unlock his door for him, and to his bed. He changes him into his pajamas and pecks his lips.
“Where do you think you’re going?” George slurs, trying his best to sit up in the bed. Clay sighs gently and steps back over to the man. He caresses his head and tilts his head up so their eyes meet. “I can’t stay, baby.”
George’s bottom lip pokes out and Clay swears he sees tears threaten to spill in his eyes. He shushes him before a sob even erupts from his throat, “I love you so much, I’ll see you tomorrow.” George hiccups and wipes his tears. He speaks through his crying, “Can’t I go to your place? We never go there, why?” Clay winces and rubs his cheek gently. “You’re drunk, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you,” George whispers, watching Clay leave the room. He cries harder when he hears the front door close. He falls back in bed and lays there, closing his eyes to hopefully get some sleep. It accepts him and he drifts into darkness until he wakes up with the terrible urge to throw up. He manages to make it to the bathroom in time before he hurls, then sits there with his chin on the toilet in disgust. Soon, he gets up and cleans his face before walking back to the bed. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and checks his notifications. He has two important ones: I made it home safe from Clay and Dreamwastaken is live! from Twitch. He quickly responds to Clay to update on how he’s doing, then slides over to Twitch to watch Dream.
He lays on the bed on his stomach with his phone in front of him, his feet in the air kicking wildly. He watches Dream find a village and kill the iron golem, all while texting Clay about Dream’s stream. He has the time of his life watching Dream and updating his boyfriend, he decides life is grand. After the stream, life becomes even greater when he sees Dream like his tweet of him and Sapnap at Target. He notices he unlikes it too, but George still thanks the heavens.
—
“And then he unliked it! I don’t have a problem with that, I’m just so excited that he saw my tweet! God, he knows what I look like. That’s not scary at all…” George rambles, placing a hand on his chest to control his breathing. He breathes deeply and focuses on the rise and fall of his hand with his chest. Clay chuckles and offers his hand out for the brunet to hold. “I’m so glad he makes you happy,” Clay comments.
George beams like a ray of sunshine. He effuses, “You both make me happy. I love you. I’m so excited we’re going to your house.” Clay flashes a crooked grin and nods. “Now, I live with other people so don’t be surprised when you see my house,” he lies. George nods and plays music until they get to the blond’s house. Once Clay pulls into the driveway, George’s mouth goes slack. “Holy shit. This can’t be your house, it’s huge! You work at Target!”
“I live with other people! We all pay rent,” he lies once again. George doesn’t see through his act. “Let’s go in!” he exclaims, jumping out of the car when they park. Clay takes his hand and walks him to the front door, then gives him mostly the grand tour. He skips certain rooms and takes George to his bedroom instead.
“This is my bedroom,” he informs, spreading his arms out to show off the space. George walks around the room, admiring the posters and decorations everywhere. The brunet hops onto the bed after looking around. Clay climbs on top of him and presses their lips together. George hums before pulling away to speak, “See, isn’t this different? Doesn’t it feel nice to be in your bedroom, for me to be in your bed?” Clay nods, his lips hitting George’s chin as his head moves up and down. Their lips collide in a passionate kiss, their limbs tangling together as they combine as one. They kiss until they run out of breath and until George needs the bathroom.
“Where’s the bathroom again?” George questions, standing up from the bed. Dream gives him the directions, but the information goes in one ear and out the other as he opens the door. He wanders down the hallway and pretends like he knows where he’s going. He stares at two doors that are opposite of each other until he comes to a decision. If he walks into the wrong one, what’s the worst that could happen? No one is here except him and Clay. He chooses the door on the left. Once he walks inside, his heart drops. The first thing he notices is the computer setup and how expensive it looks. He slowly inches forward until he is behind the gaming chair. From there, he turns around to examine the rest of the room. With the new angle, he’s able to see much more. The next thing he notices are the YouTube plaques. Then, his eyes catch on the LED sign that reads Dream.
A meow startles him, forcing his eyes to lock onto the small creature curled up in the corner. He leans down and stretches out his arm to see if the cat will come near. The cat stands and George’s heart sinks when he sees the pattern of her body and legs. He glances at the YouTube plaques and Dream sign, then back at the cat. Realization dawns on him.
“Patches?” he calls like she’d answer. He squeezes his eyes shut and tears prick at his eyelids. He whispers to no one, “This can’t be happening.” The floor reaches out for him, begging for his downfall. He doesn’t succumb yet, instead he stands. The brunet wipes his tears as he walks back to Clay’s room. Slowly, he opens the door and steps inside. His voice cracks immediately as he croaks out, “Dream?”
The blond turns immediately, answering George’s question with one single movement. George notices he’s holding something, but his vision is too blurry to even decipher it. Clay—Dream—sets down the object to walk over to him. “How did you find out?” he questions. A hand moves to caress George’s cheek, a thumb wiping away his tears. “I stumbled into your studio. You- you’re Dream. You lied to me!”
“Oh, baby. I’m so, so sorry. I had a plan and everything, I made a scrapbook,” Dream murmurs in a soothing voice. He continuously pets George’s hair and strokes his cheek. George chokes on a sob, “For almost seven months, you’ve been Dream and you haven’t told me. Do you know how this makes me feel?” Dream nods and leans down to connect their lips. The brunet cries into the kiss and pulls away to sob. “I-I can’t do this. I have to go.”
“I drove you here. George, please. Just stay,” Dream pleads. George shakes his head furiously and walks out the door, ignoring the love of his life and his favorite cat that runs by. He exits out the front door and takes off running down the sidewalk, sobs wracking his frame.
George never thought he’d get his heart broken by two people at the same time, but can he even call them two people? Dream is Clay and Clay is Dream, yet they both managed to destroy him into pieces. Dream—someone George thought was the epitome of kindness—lied to him for months. George’s world has been flipped right back up, he’s no longer seeing the world for the better. George is broken.
George has two priorities now: be successful and stay away from Dream.