marionette | DreamNotFound

- 9 -

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George was sitting around, taking sips from the drink Nick made him. It tasted like straight vodka. It probably was, too. George already knew Nick had something planned for him, otherwise he wouldn't get straight vodka. It never worked out and he hated the idea of his best friend trying to get him someone to hook up with but he appreciated the effort. Nonetheless, today he had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. He didn't really notice him looking for the new student subconsciously. His eyes wandered around in the room looking for the tall boy's head or at least his hairs sticking out.

He was way to tipsy to have his second drink in his hand already. It's been thirty minutes since he had gotten his first drink and in his hand was the bottle of vodka now. Okay, he definitely wasn't tipsy, he really shouldn't drink anymore. He barely ate anything in the last few days plus he's a lightweight. This night would go horribly wrong, he already knew.

Clay showed up late to the party, maybe forty minutes? Fifty? He immediately got a drink from Tommy who was eagerly waiting for his arrival. Toby and him where standing at the door, three drinks in their hands. „Hello, big man," Tommy greeted Clay. „Looking good, big man," Toby said. Clay looked down at his outfit, he had some grey sweatpants, converse and a dark crop top. Nothing too special, so he assumed it was his make-up that consisted of a heavy eyeliner and red-pink cheeks as well as pink lips. Also, nothing too special. Nonetheless, Clay took his drink and thanked Toby for the compliment, wandering off to look for Nick.

He didn't find Nick but he found George sitting alone in the kitchen, a bottle of vodka in hands. He went up to him and took the bottle out of the brunettes hands. „wha-?" George started speaking. „You look like you got enough to drink, you'll either pass out or throw up any minute now," Clay said. „passing out sounds so, so great," George said, Clay could barely hear him since he was mumbling half of it. „Okay, let me get equally as drunk and we'll just hang out and bond," Clay said. „Oh, okay," George replied and gave Clay the bottle, looking at him, observing his features.

Clay felt George starring at him. He quite enjoyed it, if he was honest. Clay also liked the way George looked at him. Drunk George was so much different from the George he got to know at school. He remembered George's look on his face when he first talked to him. Right now, it was pretty much the same face but instead of looking through him, he was looking at him that time. Also, he wasn't crying and his mouth was open. But theoretically, it was the same.

Clay chugged down half of the bottle, feeling a bit tipsy but it was barely anything. „You okay?" Clay asked George. He didn't really move that whole time. George nodded, his eyes staying focused on the new student. Clay chugged down the rest of the bottle. He didn't even try to enjoy it, first of all, it was hideous, secondly, it was the fastest way to reach George's level of drunk. The fact, that he didn't eat before the party helped a lot, he guessed George didn't either. If he was to throw up, it would only be liquid.

"Alright, were do you wanna go? I've never been here," Clay said. "Pool outside," George suggested. He didn't wait for Clay to answer, he knew he'd follow him anyways. They made their way through the crowd of already drunk people, stepping outside meeting the cool late summer air. George sat down at the pool, Clay tried to get him not to fall in. He pulled George a bit closer so he can lay against his shoulder to keep his balance. Clay's weight was on his hands that he had put behind his back.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" George asked. For every sober person next to them it probably sounded like random syllables thrown together, to a drunk George and a bit more than tipsy Clay, it made perfect sense. Somehow, drunk people always understood each other perfectly. "No, just whatever comes to your mind," Clay replied, looking straight forward. They were sitting next to the pool, none of their body parts able to touch the water. It's probably way too cold anyways. Clay still thought about going in. "Well, okay," George said, "we could just play twenty questions or something" "Sure thing"

None of them talked for about two minutes, not wanting to be the first one to start and also not having any questions in their heads. Well, Clay had many questions but they would probably make their relationship worse. He couldn't exactly ask why George wasn't eating or hated him. All George had in his mind was Clay, his face, his body, his hair, everything. Just the picture of him drinking the vodka, his crop top revealing his abs. George was nearly drooling earlier that evening. He hated the way he was attracted to the blond.

"I feel like we need more alcohol for this," Clay finally said after a couple of minutes. He stood up, making George lay down. Clay was sure he wouldn't be able to balance and just fall over, worst case scenario would be him hitting his head. He watched George when they were walking outside, he could barely walk in a straight line, barely walk at all.
He got George a cider and himself another bottle of vodka.

As he got back, George was looking up to the sky, one arm resting under his head, fingers drawing circles on his torso. Clay smiled at the boy, sitting down next to him and pulling his head on his thighs, running his fingers through George's hair.