Chapter Text
George was silently looking outside the passenger seat window, his elbow resting on it with his chin on his hand, watching as trees and buildings zipped by before disappearing from sight. Bumps in the road would make him jump and lose his grip every once in a while, making him fumble awkwardly before going back to his still posture, contradictory to his racing thoughts.
The game would be in a few hours. He didn't know why, but now that school had ended and they were heading home to get ready for it, he was starting to feel nervousness etching in the back of his mind.
He didn't know what to expect. He didn't even really know how these games worked. Would he have to cheer? For Sapnap? Clay? Who else was on the football team that would be playing today? Was he going to have to sit on a bench the whole game and just watch a sport he didn't even fully understand?
Not that he didn't want to. Or really, he wasn't even sure if the reason why he was suddenly so nervous was because he didn't want to watch the game, or because he might get bored.
George didn't like not knowing what to expect. That's what made him nervous now that an event in which he didn't know what the outcome would be or how it would go was drawing near.
And yet, when Clay had offered him the ticket, he had been on board immediately. Maybe even a little excited, though he would never admit that.
"Are you excited, Georgie?"
George whipped his head toward Karl, startled by the question and seriously wondering if he was a mind reader. His eyes were still on the road ahead of them, but there was an easy smile playing on his lips.
"What do you mean?" George said instead, eyeing Karl warily. The other boy didn't seem to notice the hesitance in his question as he shrugged one shoulder, glancing for a second in his direction with a smile.
"You don't have this type of football over there in the U.K., right? So this is your first game!" Karl grinned boyishly as he slowed the car to a stop, waiting for the light to turn green. He turned to fully look at George now. "You must be excited, right?"
"I mean...I guess," George answered slowly, drumming his fingers against his lap. He thought back to the time he sat with his friends during lunch on the bleachers in the football field and got front row seats to the football team's practice and Clay's temper tantrum. He didn't mention it, though. "I guess I'm mostly nervous. I really don't know what to expect. I don't even know what you wear to one of these things."
"A crop top and a tiny skirt, duh," Karl answered automatically as he turned his eyes towards the row again once the light turned green, setting the car into motion. He glanced to take in George's baffled expression before bursting into a fit of giggles.
"You were joking. Of course you were," George rolled his eyes as the other calmed down from his laugh attack.
"No, no, George, I am being completely serious right now. We are dressing up as cheerleaders, you and me. We're going to be Sap and Clay's personal cheerleaders." And then in a ridiculously high pitched voice, Karl began chanting to an invisible audiences. "S! A! P-N-A-P! You love Sapnap and so do we! C! L! A! Y! You love Clay and so do I!"
"Only you?" George asked, amused. Karl huffed.
"If I said 'we' it wouldn't have rhymed, George. C'mon, you're supposed to know this as Clay and Sapnap's personal cheerleader."
"Right, you're right. Must've skipped that part in the cheerleader manual," George joked, making Karl snicker. "You still haven't told me what I'm supposed to wear, though."
"Don't worry, Gogy, I will dress you in the finest linen in all the land. You will be the best looking guy there. Every lady within a 5 meter radius will take one look at you and instantly fall head over heels madly in love, mark my word."
George laughed a bit and shook his head, turning to look back out the window. "Okay, Karl. Whatever you say."
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The next few hours after arriving home, George felt like he was stuck modeling for a fashion show. He had thrown on a random short and a pair of pants, but the second Karl glanced his way, he gasped like he had laid eyes on the most grotesque thing to ever exist and began demanding he change into an actually "decent fit."
Karl then proceeded to squabble about his terrible sense in fashion after going through practically all the clothes he had brought with him and deemed them all embarrassments to the fashion industry. In the middle of searching through his clothe,s George realized he was missing a hoodie and a pair of pant, but when he mentioned it to Karl he just made a joke saying "good riddance," so George decided he would look for it later. Karl then took it upon himself to share some of his own clothes with George, and they spent another hour having George try on different things until they found one that fit.
"Twirl for me," Karl smiled teasingly, flicking his finger in a circular motion. George rolled his eyes.
"I'm not going to twirl for you," he laughed a bit, but moved to look at himself in the the large mirror propped up in the living room.
He was wearing a white button-up shirt under a dark, navy sweater, and black, semi-loose pants with a pair of white converse.
"Now that's a fit," Karl said proudly. "I have so many better fits, of course, but you're so tiny they look like dresses on you."
"Shut up," George huffed and shoved Karl lightly, who let out a string of giggles before beginning to walk back towards his room upstairs.
"We'll be leaving in a bit, let me just finish getting changed!" Karl called as he ran up the stairs. George felt the nervousness he had been feeling in the car start creeping back, so he drew in a long breathe and let it out in a shaky sigh.
He couldn't just back out now.
He had promised Clay he would go, and he was planning on fulfilling that promise.
It's okay.
He could do this.
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Dream < [email protected] >
to [email protected]
Georgenotfound.
Hey George! How have you been? There's a football game today, do you plan on going? I am, I heard it's going to be really good. The competition is fierce, but I'm sure our team will emerge victorious, as usual. We have one of the best teams in the city, so I really do think we will win this game.
Also, sorry if my last email was a little too direct, or if it made you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry for pushing you to say something you might not be comfortable saying, if it genuinely upset you please let me know and I promise to back off. I just really like talking to you, sorry if that sounds weird, but it's true.
Hoping things are okay between us,
Dream
Reply Forward
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Clay was feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline he felt right before a game. He was bouncing from foot to foot, cracking his knuckles before moving to suit up in his football gear. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, making his hands shake slightly even as he forced them to steady.
"Shake it off, Clay. Shake it off. We got this."
Clay grinned at Sapnap's words, turning to see him shaking his arms, then his whole body a bit, hopping from foot to foot. Clay copied his movements, attempting to shake out the nervousness he usually felt before a game but knowing it would remain present until the game actually began.
"Woo! Pre-game shimmy!" Skeppy came up beside them, mimicking their movements and making Sapnap chuckle as he moved to pull his kit over his head. Callahan grinned and wordlessly joined in, pulling a laugh out of Clay.
The locker room was noisy and bustling with activity, as it usually was whether there was a game or practice, but a special kind of buzz was always evident specifically for pre-games. The whole team was trying to shake off nerves in favor of hyping each other, and themselves, up.
"Have you guys seen Sam?" a voice behind them asked. Clay flinched involuntarily at the name before his mind reminded him which Sam they were referring to. He turned towards the voice, meeting the gaze of the taller blonde some ways behind him, his distinctive hetero chromatic eyes looking worried. "He's the only one missing."
"Mother fucker is late," Schlatt spoke up, rolling his eyes as he continued changing into his gear.
"He should be here soon, don't worry," Clay responded to Ranboo, who nodded a bit and returned to putting on his gear. He watched as Callahan silently patted Ranboo's back, probably as a means to tell him it would be alright. He had meant to ease Ranboo's worries, but now Clay felt a similar prick of nervousness as he glanced towards the locker room door.
"Dude, take your own advice," Sapnap laughed a bit and patted his back playfully, and Clay felt himself smile at how well the other boy could read him.
"Nerves are natural. It means you're ready to face a challenge and perform. So don't fight it, simply relish in it and morph it into something positive," Technoblade spoke up from his spot on the bench where he was tying his cleats. Clay grinned down at him.
"You always give good advice, Techno-"
"Besides, fear is a great motivator," Techno cut Clay off, grinning up at him, his sharp canines in full view and his eyes glinting darkly. Clay laughed a bit, albeit awkwardly.
"Techno, please take no offense to this but, sometimes you are just absolutely terrifying," Schlatt commented dryly. Techno turned to him before shrugging.
"Sam!" someone spoke up, and Clay resisted the urge to flinch this time. Sam walked in through the door, rushing to get his things together and get changed.
"Sorry I'm late, guys, I got the times mixed up," Sam huffed a bit out of breath, ruffling his brightly dyed green hair as he set his things down on a bench. Clay still wasn't sure how he was allowed to come to school like that.
"Didn't Coach email you the schedule?" he heard Skeppy ask. Sam's face scrunched up as he gave an explanation of his mix up, but Clay tuned them out after the mention of an email. He found himself picking up his phone, looking through his notifications for a specific one.
"What's up?" Sapnap asked, peering over his shoulder. Clay shut his phone off and opened his locker again to leave it in there before swinging it shut again.
"Nothing, I was just expecting an email," he said truthfully. Sapnap hummed, thankfully not pressing any further. It wasn't a big deal anyway, George was probably busy getting ready to come to the game and just didn't have time to respond to his email.
It didn't have anything to do with the last email he had sent him the day prior which may have been a little too forward and scared George away.
Probably.
"You ready, Clay?" Sapnap spoke up. Clay turned to him, nodding. He had been overthinking way too much all day long, but now wasn't the time for those lingering thoughts and doubts, or to be questioning...whatever it was he was feeling. He needed to focus on this game, so for now he would leave all thoughts of George aside.
"Let's do this."
As the football team began making their way out the locker room, Clay stepped weirdly and felt a jolt of pain shoot through his leg. He winced, having mostly forgotten about the wound he had gotten during the party in the forest behind Karl's house. It had mostly healed, but the wound was still there.
It was okay though, he was fine.
He could do this.
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"Is it always this noisy?"
"Oh yeah, always. Our school takes games really seriously because we have a lot of school spirit and all of that," Karl responded before reaching back into his bag of popcorn and popping a handful in his mouth. George could barely hear him over the commotion of the crowd, either sitting on the bleachers or walking around. Most of the bleacher's spots were already filled as it neared closer for the game to start.
"Karlosssss!" a distinct voice managed to yell over the bustle of the crowd.
"Hey, Alex," Karl responded. George turned to watch as the boy from spin the bottle, Alex "Quackity," maneuvered his way to sit beside Karl, stealing a bit of popcorn from his bag despite Karl's protests.
"Georgeeee, how you doing, man," he asked next, leaning in a little into Karl's space to look at George. George felt his lips pull up slightly.
"I'm doing good."
"That's good, dude, that's good," Alex pulled back then, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. "I legit took a fat nap before coming here, but I'm still feeling a little sluggish. You're going to have to make sure I don't fall asleep, Karl, so entertain me."
"I'm not good at entertaining," Karl responded. Alex whipped his head to look at him, his eyes narrowing.
"What the fuck do you mean you're not entertaining, man. You're one of the funnest people to be around at this school, that's why you host the best parties."
"Awee, Quackityyy," Karl giggled and side-hugged the smaller boy, Alex responding with a string of curses at the nickname. George tuned them out when he felt the bleachers shift again, and turned to see someone was now sitting at his other side. Blue filled his vision (though in reality, it was purple) and he felt himself startle.
"Oh, Minx," he blurted as the girl side eyed him. She grinned slightly, and George felt his face heating up slightly.
"Hello there, George."
She was wearing dark makeup that made her eyes pop, her hair styled into a ponytail with loose strands framing her face at the front. George noticed she was wearing some type of uniform, with a crop top and skirt with the school colors and a really oversized letterman jacket hanging loosely over it and covering her up. Before he could ask what the outfit was for, another, softer voice spoke up.
"Hi George!" Niki appeared from beside Minx, grinning softly, so George smiled back.
"Hey, Niki."
"Look Wilbur! I found your girlfriend, and her girlfriend!" Tommy shouted and pointed from a few rows down, before beginning to cackle as Wilbur smacked him upside the head. George caught sight of Tubbo beside the two, waving aggressively at him, so he waved back with a small grin. The three of them made their way towards them before moving to sit in the empty seats in the row behind them.
"I like your buns, Niki," Wilbur commented, patting the two panda buns of her blonde hair at the top of her head, the rest of her hair loose. George watched Minx attempt to hide her smirk by bringing a bottle of water up to her lips as Niki played with a strand of her hair, smiling up at the boy.
"Thanks, Wil, Minx helped me-"
"That's something incredibly inappropriate to say, Wilbur, have you no manners," Tommy cut in. Minx spit out the water she was drinking as Niki's smile fell, Wilbur's face dusting red.
"Tommy, I swear to fuck-" Tommy started cackling loudly as Wilbur grabbed him in a choke hold, the blonde boy squirming and attempting to escape, but to no avail. Minx had burst out laughing before falling into a coughing fit while Niki covered her face in embarrassment.
"Hey, woah, are you okay," George asked, his hands hovering over Minx's shaking shoulder as she continued to cough between laughter. She waved a hand in his direction, turning her face away from him.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, just- the water-" she attempted explaining between coughs. George began patting her back lightly, for lack of knowing what else to do. That made Minx turn her gaze back to him, her big, light blue eyes meeting his own and drawing him in, George unable to look away.
"You know that doesn't actually help the coughing, right?" she said once she had stopped coughing, her mouth quirking up at the edges in amusement.
"I mean, you stopped coughing," George responded automatically. Minx's eyes widened a bit in surprise at his response, as if she hadn't expected it, before a full on smile lit up her face as she raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay, I see you George. You're a little smartass, huh," she chuckled a bit, leaning towards him and tilting her her head slightly. George felt himself swallowing roughly. "Bet you think you think you're hot shit too?"
"Not exactly..." George began, before he thought back to the party and their last interaction. He felt a smile pulling at his lips despite attempting to keep a straight face. "You were the one that thought I was the handsomest male in the room, remember?"
"Holy shit, George! You fucking killed her, dude!" he heard Alex start to laugh loudly behind him, having probably been eavesdropping on their conversation, followed by a long, drawn out "ooooh" from Karl. George watched with satisfaction as Minx pulled back slightly, her face flushing scarlet as she began stammering in the midst of her embarrassment.
"What- no that was just- I didn't- Oh, shut the hell up already, Quackity, it wasn't that funny!" Minx hissed at the boy who was practically bawling from laughter, so much so he didn't even bother rebuking the nickname. She turned back to George, who couldn't help but find it adorable how she was now pouting, her face still a bright red. "Whatever, George. I knew I should have picked the goat guy over you."
"Did you just call Schlatt 'the goat guy????'" Alex asked before losing it and laughing even harder. Karl had to hold on to Alex's back so he wouldn't accidentally fall backwards and into the space of someone behind him.
"Minx, I think someone is calling you," Niki spoke up quietly, tapping her shoulder before pointing down at the field. George looked in the direction she was pointing to spot a girl with bright, blue hair waving from a spot on the football field. She was wearing the same uniform Minx was, except she wasn't wearing a letterman jacket over it. She looked vaguely familiar, and George soon realized it was the same girl that had played spin the bottle and kissed Clay. Celestia, was it?
For some reason, looking at her now made something twist uncomfortably inside of George.
He ignored it.
"Oh shit, I was supposed to go back already but got," Minx glanced at George before quickly looking away again. "Distracted. Anyway I have to go, enjoy the game Niki, and," Minx looked over at Alex as she got up, her face screwing up in disgust. "Everyone else, I guess."
"Love you too, Minx," Alex rolled his eyes fondly, and George could tell Minx was trying to hold back a smile. She took off her letterman jacket and chucked it at Alex, who in the midst of his surprise was unable to stop it from hitting him smack in the face. "Hey!"
"Take care of that for me, it's Schlatt's," she rolled her eyes before she started walking away, glancing back one last time to flash a small, almost secret smile at George.
George felt his heart skip a beat.
"Damn Minx, you player! You going after the whole school now?" Alex called behind her. She flipped him off without turning around as she made her way down the bleachers, George unable to look away from her retreating back.
"Georgie, you're drooling~," Karl teased, elbowing him slightly. George finally snapped out of it, whirling around to look at him as he felt his face flush.
"I'm not, shut up," he huffed in exasperation, making Karl giggle as he started teasingly poking him while George attempted to make him stop. Alex gaped at him.
"Oh my god, George. Please tell me you're not interested in Minx," he nearly pleaded. George started sputtering.
"What-?! No no, I don't- I'm not that's- that's crazy," he stammered out. Karl looked unconvinced, a sly smile stretching his lips, while Alex gave him a deadpan look.
"George, out of all the girls, why Minx? Minx?? You could've picked like- I don't know, Celestia or something."
"No but Celestia likes Clay, remember?" Karl spoke up. Alex flicked his gaze at Karl, his eyes wide with surprise, before they went back to a normal size when he seemed to remember the events of the party.
"Oh shit that's true, I forgot they kissed at the party."
"Well, technically she kissed him," George blurted out without thinking. Karl and Alex looked at him with weird looks, and George felt like he wanted to dig up a 6 foot hole and burry himself there.
Why had he said that?
"I mean, same difference. They still kissed," Alex shrugged. George had to physically stop himself from spewing more nonsense by covering his mouth with his hand.
Why did he want to correct him so badly? Mention how Clay had looked after the kiss, as though he would have wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment?
Why was this bothering him this much?
"To be fair, Clay seemed really uncomfortable after it. He even left the room and everything," Karl pointed out. George felt the sudden urge to hug him, but refrained from going through with the action.
"Speaking of, what was that about, George?" Alex asked, turning the attention back to him. George blinked owlishly at the two.
"What do you mean?"
"Yeah, how come he left the room all of a sudden? Was it really because of the kiss?" Karl added. George felt himself growing more and more confused, his eyebrows furrowing together.
"How am I supposed to know?" he responded. Karl and Alex shared a look.
"Well I mean, you did go after him, remember..?" Alex asked slowly, as if George was a little kid that wouldn't understand what he was asking. George was about to say he didn't go after him when a vague memory of getting up and leaving after Clay clouded his mind, but most of what happened after being blurry or completely blank.
"Shit, I don't...I don't remember," George admitted, placing a hand to his head as he tried to think. Remember. But everything afterwards seemed to have been erased from his memory, and the next thing he recalls clearly was waking up in different clothes the next morning with a terrible hangover. "I vaguely remember getting up and going after him, but after that I don't...I don't know..."
"Shit," Alex huffed under his breath. Karl seemed like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut in a tight line. Instead, Alex spoke up again. "Well I mean, you can ask Clay, since you went after him. He can probably fill you in on the stuff you don't remember, if you guys were really together during that chunk of time."
"Yeah, I guess I can ask him," George muttered, but he suddenly felt as though there was something really important he was forgetting, unable to shake the feeling away. He felt like he had a puzzle nearly complete, but was missing several of the pieces in different spots of it. Had something important happened between him chasing after Clay and waking up in his bed the next morning?
"I'm pretty sure you spent the rest of the party with Clay, so he'll fill you in," Karl finally said. George couldn't help but feel there was something else Karl knew but wasn't saying, but before he could ask music started playing from the field and everyone on the bleachers started yelling and cheering.
"I don't know what the fuck is happening, but I want to yell, too!" Tommy shouted behind him. George couldn't help but laugh at the way Tubbo and Tommy started whooping and hollering along with the crowd.
"Yeahhh baby lets go!! Let's go!!" Alex clapped excitedly as Karl whistled loudly. George turned his attention back to the field, noticing the football team huddled on one side. A group of girls that had the same uniform as Minx and Celestia made two lines, one facing their side and the others facing the opposite side where the opposing school was sitting. In front of the football team, a marching band was lined up, and George realized they were the ones playing the music.
They suddenly marched forward, between the 'tunnel' of girls, playing a song he didn't recognize. Karl briefly mentioned it was the school's fight anthem, so George watched as they dashed forward to the center of the field all while performing.
The beat of the music dropped, and suddenly smoke was shot into the air and the crowd was cheering even louder than the music itself as the school's football team ran in between the two lines, as though it were a runway, following after the marching band as each of the girls started doing flips towards the bleachers as the team members passed by them.
That's when it finally hit him.
They were cheerleaders.
"Minx is a cheerleader?!" George yelled over the noise. Alex started laughing, and Karl grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly.
"Yes, George, where have you been the past 10 minutes? She's even wearing a cheerleading outfit, get it together!" Karl said jokingly, and George couldn't help but smile bashfully back at him.
"Guys! I'm here, I'm here," someone yelled over the noise. George watched as Darryl, or Badboyhalo, made his way up the bleachers to them before sliding in to the spot where Minx had been sitting previously, beside George. "Hello there, Niki."
"Hi Bad!"
"Darryl," he reminded her, before turning to George with a big smile on his face. "Oh hi, Larry."
"Oh hi, Mark," George responded automatically. That pulled a laugh out of Bad, who covered his mouth and waved around.
"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to call you Larry, bad habit of mine. But that was a funny reaction. How are you doing, George?"
"I'm doing good, thanks for asking," George responded with a small grin. Tommy suddenly leant forward and popped his head between the two, turning towards Bad.
"Hey Badboyhalo, were you with your boyfriend, just now? Is that where you had gone?"
"What?!" Bad squeaked, turning bright red. "Skeppy is not my boyfriend, you muffin! And I was just wishing him luck before the game!"
"But you like him, I reckon," Tubbo added in, making Tommy snicker.
"No, I don't! Stahp it!!"
"George you should see him, we have to live with this guy so we know. We are like, victim to their interactions day in and day out, every fucking day, I tell you. He is totally obsessed with that Skeppy guy, they're constantly all over each other all the time, I swear on it. It's kind of gross, if I'm being honest, they're like, super lovey dovey and shit," Tommy continued shouting over the cheering still going on, and even over Bad's attempt to shut him up by covering his own ears and screeching "LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU YOU'RE LYING ALSO LANGUAGE LALALALA" over and over.
"It's true, I can totally vouch for that. They also fight like a married couple, it's actually quite hilarious!" Tubbo agreed.
"BadBoyHalo, I feel terribly sorry that you have to deal with these two for the rest of the semester," Wilbur spoke up, patting his back solemnly. Bad let out a loud groan and Niki attempted to hide the fact that she was giggling.
"Your friends are funny, Georgie," Karl spoke up. George turned to him with a strained smile, which made Alex burst out laughing.
"Look, there's Clay!" Wilbur pointed at the field. George turned to the cluster of guys in football gear but was unable to differentiate who was who.
"How can you tell which one is Clay?" George asked.
"Because of the numbers! Clay is number 4, and look! There's Sapnap talking to him, since he's number 8. And that's Skeppy over there, wearing the number 14," Bad explained, pointing at each of them on the field.
"Actually, I recognized Clay for another reason," Wilbur admitted. When George turned towards him with a questioning gaze, he quietly explained to George, "You see, he's been limping slightly since the party. It's not as noticeable anymore, but sometimes he still walks a little weird. I noticed, and that's how I was able to tell it was him!"
"A limp?" George asked. Wilbur shrugged, apparently not knowing more, and turned back towards the field. George did the same, his mind reeling.
Clay had been limping since the party?
How did he not notice?
Did he know the reason behind the limp, but couldn't remember?
"Please rise for our national anthem," a voice boomed from the speakers. The crowd began quieting down, and everyone began standing up, placing a hand over their hearts. George stood up as well, not knowing what was happening but watching as a girl walked into the middle of the field with a mic.
It was Maia.
She sang the national anthem, ending with a roaring crowd of whistles and cheers as she walked back off the field, and the game began.
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The referee blew the whistle, and just like that it was halftime. Clay skidded to a stop, nearly running into the guy from the opposing team that was in front of him. He had been in the middle of making a play, but unfortunately didn't have the sufficient time needed to reach the end zone.
He handed the ball over to the ref as he, along with everyone else, made their way to the sidelines. The coach was shouting something about a good first half, to keep it up, but Clay wasn't exactly listening as he took off his helmet.
It was true they did well in the first half. They were 14 to 2, but he knew better than to get overconfident and accidentally slip up. Anything could happen in the last two quarters.
He glanced at the marching band that was performing several stand cheers as the cheerleaders begun shouting chants and doing flips to get the crowd hyped up for the second half. His eyes briefly stayed on Celestia, her electric blue hair too hard to miss, before a churning in his gut made him look away again.
"Clay, look," Sapnap came up next to him, handing him a water bottle before pointing at the bleachers ahead of them. Clay looked in that direction to see a crowd of people waving in his direction.
Wilbur was practically towering above the rest, with Tommy and Tubbo beside him, who were waving enthusiastically at him and Sapnap. In the row right under was Niki, Bad sitting beside her (though his attention wasn't directed at them, but rather in the direction of Skeppy who was a few feet away from Clay and Sapnap), and beside Bad sat both Karl and Alex, also waving dramatically at the two and letting out embarrassingly loud whoops while shouting his and Sapnap's names along with several shameless statements.
And in between Karl and Bad sat George.
Clay had forced himself not to look for George in the crowd the whole game to avoid getting distracted, but now that he knew exactly where he was sitting, he openly stared at the boy.
He wasn't looking in his direction, but rather to his left, at Karl and Alex. He looked to be embarrassed at how loud the other two were being, a timid smile curling his lips upward as he watched them with amusement.
George then turned his head to the field, and as his eyes met Clay's time seemed to slow.
George's smile disappeared a bit at first, before it slowly crept back before coming on in full force, a big and beautiful smile lighting up his face entirely and making his eyes crinkle a bit at the edges, directed at Clay and Clay alone. Clay felt as though all the air in his lungs had been sucked out of him in that moment, and he could hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears, all other noises around him muted in comparison.
He watched as George almost timidly raised his hand and waved a bit, his mouth opening and his shoulders shaking slightly in a laugh Clay was unfortunately too far away to hear. Almost in a daze, Clay felt himself smiling stupidly back, raising his own hand and waving.
He felt Sapnap elbow him lightly, but he didn't have to look over at him to guess what he was probably thinking.
Clay could blame what he was feeling on the adrenaline of the game, that high he usually felt playing his favorite sport, but he knew all too well that this feeling was different.
Way too different.
His heart continued to hiccup as he swallowed roughly, his gaze still trained on George as though a beacon were pointing directly at him and everyone else in the crowd were a blur in the dark.
His cheeks were starting to hurt as he raised a hand to drag it down his face and hide the stupidly large smile he knows was still present on there.
He was so fucked.