Tubbo stuck around Clay's side for the rest of the day, and Clay was more than happy to discuss anything inwhich the younger found interesting at that very moment. Wilbur, Tommy, George and Niki came back in a hurry with crooked grins and ruffled hair, holding large plastic bags.

Tommy was through the roofs, took Tubbo's hands in his own and announced that he had gotten recognised for the first time ever. Tubbo cheered him on as Tommy told the story, a grin tearing his face in two, his excitement prevalent through and through.

"We was walkin' through the isle and someone stopped me and Will," Tommy spoke in a hurry, sitting before Clay and Tubbo on a stool near the kitchen island. Wilbur and George were helping Niki unpack the items they had bought. "And they said they knew me! They said my name, asked for a photo and everything!"

"How does it feel to be famous, Tommy?" Clay asked as George passed over them and ruffled his hair. "Great! Better than that!" Tommy yelled. George opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of water.

He filled a cup for himself and felt the cold liquid slip down his throat as Tommy went on and on about the experience.

"Toms's more excited than the girl that stopped him." Wilbur announced, leaning on the island next to Clay and Tubbo. "We had to take a different route back home. We were scared people would show up to our house again."

"They haven't for a long time though. You would've thought- But I guess not." George shrugged, placing the cup in the sink. Clay gave him a long glance, full of something unpredictable, igniting with feelings words could never explain.

"We wasted so much money on the ingredients." Niki fretted, as she lifted a bowl from a cabinet behind her and to the kitchen island.

"Oh, don't be such a downer, nickels. We've got my stream money coming in, don't we?" Tommy spoke. "Can you hand me a cup of water, gogs?"

"Get it yourself." George spoke, squinting his eyes at him. Tubbo scrambled to the fridge and handed Tommy a cup of cold water.

Tommy glared at George, the corners of his lips struggling to stay frowned as he gripped the glass. "You really are a bitch, aren't you?"

"Hey, no being mean to George." Clay spoke, and placed both hands on his shoulders.

"You were being mean to gogy?" Wilbur walked behind Tommy, towering over him. "That's not allowed. I say we kick him."

"Wha- No!" Tommy fought back but Wilbur had already lifted his hood up and covered his head, shaking him roughly before Tommy caught ahold of himself and batted his hands away.

"Oi! Shithead." He cursed, ripping his hood off of his head.

Wilbur chuckled and ascended over to the couch and flopped onto it, getting into a comfortable position before checking twitter and going to hell willingly once more just to see what was going on.

Tommy and George sprung up a conversation about minecraft and then gravitated towards music for Clay's sake as he and Tubbo helped Niki break the chocolate and stirr the batter.

"Okay, but cat's better. Pigstep's good too." Tommy stated, watching as George shook his head in response.

"Mice on venus is by far the best one." George spoke, followed by a loud hum from Will, who was seemingly listening in. "C418 really knocked himself out."

"What d'you think Tubs? Which is better, mice on venus or cat?" The three turned towards the shortest of the lot.

"Well, are we talking about disc music or minecraft music in general? Because if we're talking about either, I'd say cat's the best disc and wet hands the best part of the soundtrack." Clay felt uncomfortable in all of this; He had never played minecraft before in his life.

"Wet hands is actually really good." George put in, placing his chin on the palm of his hand. Niki nodded in agreement. "Can I give my two sense in all this?"

"Yeah, go on, Nickels." Tommy pushed and Niki began to stir the batter within the bowl. "I'm with Tubbo, it depends on what we're talking about. Mice on venus is just- Nostalgic." Niki put in and George nodded, spluttering his agreements with her statement.

Little bits of sun rays blessed his eyes with sparks of magic that made Clay fall deeper than he had already gone into.

Only then did he realise, by looking close at him, that he had light freckles trekked across his nose and cheeks. He was in a battle with his mind and his mouth, struggling to say everything that he wanted to about the topic of Minecraft music of all things. His mind was going faster than his lips.

As he had zoned out on beauty itself, George's attention slowly gripped on the sun kissed bloke staring at him. "What?" He spoke, a small smile lifting the edges of his smile. Without much thought, Clay had pushed a finger on the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up. "You have freckles."

"I know." George spoke, grinning slightly as Clay bowed his head within his arms and dropped his arm to the top of his head. George chuckled at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Hey, can you lot stop being so smitten for a minute?" Tommy called out, followed by Wilbur's howling laughter and Niki's soft giggles. Clay lifted his head from his hand trap, as did George, and looked up at Tommy with flush cheeks.

"Why don't you just ask each-other out already, it's making me sick." Tommy fake gagged as George and Clay's gazes escaped eachother after a single glance. "I promised a stream. You wanna be on it, Tubs?"

He shook his head. "Oh." Tommy shook it off. "Alright, have fun."

"Will do, Toms." Niki replied and the blond shuffled all the way to his room before shutting the door and bidding a silent farewell to anyone who wanted to listen. It took Wilbur a second to bounce up and drop his phone on the sofa. "I say we play some music. Been a long time since we've done that, heh?"

"George's mother would play music around the house 'cause it used to calm her a lot." Tubbo informed Clay, watching as Wilbur wandererd to his room.

"Will, we sold the record player, remember?" Nickels called out and Wilbur called out a frustrated 'what' before returning with a CD player and two CD's in his hands. "We didn't sell the CD player though."

"Oh, what d'you have on there?" Clay asked, wandering over to where Wilbur stood. He showed Clay two discs: One was the Minecraft soundtrack and the other was Undertale.

"Or d'you think we should be more destructive? I think we should make our landlord's hate us!" Wilbur grinned wickedly before advancing back to his room. "What's better? Billy joel or Modern talking? Oh, I've got one!"

"Will, Tommy's gone live." Niki spoke with a sudden sigh, settling down her phone on the counter as Tubbo pushed the tin of batter into the oven. "Good work, Tubbo."

"Thanks, Nickels." Tubbo answered with a larger smile than Clay had ever thought he could muster. "Put ABBA on!"

"Dancing Queen, anybody?" Wilbur smiled as he returned with a CD in his hands. He showed it off to Clay before he plucked it into the CD player: A scribbled drawing of five people with the words 'my family' embodied on the top.

"Toms drew it when he was little," Wilbur whispered as he pushed the CD in. "Don't tell him, he'll have my head for it."

The room grew silent for a moment or two before the music suddenly burst from the CD and sent them all into shock for the sound that belonged within the CD was too much.

Will was the first to break that silence, raising his arms in the air before yowling, quickly scolded by Niki. Laughing, he turned it up and found himself wandering to a kitchen, extending two hands for his friends to take.

Tubbo was the first to take it with a bow and a smile. He squeezed Will's hands as they joshed to the melody the music made. They each handed Niki a hand once more and reluctantly (however they were smiling) they were tugged into their strange dance, leaving George and Clay awkwardly alone.

But the thing Clay had always adored about their friendship was that with one single word, everything would be turned upside down, and he was have stirred a storm in his belly ready to crash on the brunette with arrows embodied with a sharp tongue and foul words.

"They're a bunch of idiots." He laughed, settling himself on a stool. Clay glanced back at the dancing trio, raising their fists into the air as the words swayed beneath their feet.

Clay looked at them longingly- The way they moved around, the grins that blessed their rosy cheeks from all the dancing they had done in the matter of minutes. His feet itched to be a part of that, his fingers flexed and his eyes stared. George noticed this.

"Are you alright, Clay?" George asked and for a moment, Clay didn't look back. You could do that, a voice told him, small but still noticeable for its large presence. He's right there.

The proximity of their bodies was too much and they were already inches apart- Should he be the one to yearn or to take the first leap into the unknown? What would the other think of him if he found out?

So many influences and thoughts gripped onto his shoulders but Clay refused to fall. He reminded himself of the levity between them, and then realised that he couldn't and actively shouldn't keep yearning.

He shouldn't be standing here, he should be taking a deep breath to calm his quacking nerves and lift a hand for George to take.

With a small sigh, he closed his eyes and opened them a moment later, forcing himself to look at George before taking out his hand. "Would you like to dance, fine sir?" That was all it took to break him.

His mind began screaming at him, embarrassed that he could have even thought that he could do something like that. His fingers still hung on air, caught in some sort of web in which he couldn't escape.

George took a glance a him before at his hands, watching his freckled palms carefully. Parted lips and heated cheeks graced his pale skin as he lifted his own hand.

Did he really just ask to dance?

Did I really just ask to dance? Clay thought in a fury, looking up at Wilbur once more as the song continued. They began yelling out the lyrics, even Niki had been lost in the spell of song. It brung them all together.

Try it out. Maybe he likes you too. George spoke as he carefully looked up to face the American before glancing back down at his hand.

You're foolish, Clay, fucking ludicrous. He screamed at himself.

Should I be doing this? They though together in one. George's brown furrowed and Clay bit his tongue, and in a fury of the moment, just as he started to drop his hand at his side, George had grabbed it. "Sure, I'd love too."

Your voice is shit, George. The boy yelled at himself and the embarrassment settled in the pit of his stomach as Clay looked down at him. "If that's alright, it doesn't really- I'm sorry-"

"Let's go then." Clay spoke, pulling on the brunette's hand. How was this so much more easier back then? He was so sure he had liked the boy back then too, why did he act so strangely now? He didn't know.

Clay pulled George into their small living room, and placed his small hand in his larger one as he spun the other around, keeping their arms linked. George watched Clay with parted lips once more as he majestically spun with him still caught tight in his arms.

When the blond gained enough confidence to shift the boy closer to him, dancing in between each-other in a close reminder of a relationship they somewhat had.

They backed away from each-other and began dancing their own ways, even if George sucked at it. "I don't know how to dance," He told Clay as the song reached its middle. The blond must have took the information to heart, for the next moment hands gripped his shoulders.

"Yeah, you're pretty shit." Clay told him, pushing his face closer to the brunette with a smug look as George laughed and batted him away, a hand straight to the face.

Clay caught his hands and placed them onto his chest as he stared down at George. Wilbur took a glance at the two of them and smiled before nudging Tubbo and dragging the two of them away to Tommy's room.

The two boys still remained, standing close to each-other, their chests pressed close to one another- Their faces were inches away from the other, fingers intertwined, hearts pounding in their chests.

For a moment, George had forgotten about everything. Forgotten the loud music banging in his ears, the others who were seemingly gone, the sound of Tommy screaming at Will as he presumable pulled a prank on him- All he could focus on was the blond before him.

Clay was unraveled, delved deep into a world that he needn't knew he could have grasped long ago, and he wasn't thinking. His hands tangled in George's brown locks, much like he had done so many times prior, and he raised the brunette's head. "Clay, I-"

But the blond was impulsive. He was impulsive and weird and dumb, or so his mind would scream at him, and he wasn't thinking straight- He bent down and kissed the brunette.

For a moment, it was incredible, even more so- Every good omen the world had bore between centuries showered upon them and Clay felt so loved, so safe- But the next moment, George had gripped his hands and tugged away from the kiss, staring down. "Clay, you aren't thinking straight." He spoke hurriedly, not daring to meet his gaze.

His face was a fury of pink. Clay was in the haze of everything, didn't notice his mistake right away. "Why not? I like you. I've liked you for so long."

"No, you don't, you can't. You're famous, you- you, you can't like me." George set his own feelings aside. He would have loved everything if it didn't feel so wrong, and it did- He had only realised it when he had received it.

They were two worlds away from one another. One full of fame and beauty and tranquility, one where he couldn't even begin to imagine, he couldn't- How could he? Imagine something he would never be? It's foolish, it's been so foolish all this time and yet he does it constantly.

It wasn't slated in the stars, was it? Did the moon and the sun agree, did the universe decide they should have known together, been together?

George pulled away from Dream's touch, wrapping his arms around him as Clay realised the full weight of what he did. "You don't like me?"

George bit his lip. "I do."

"Then what's the issue?"

"What happens when you go back to the states? What about the public, everything, your life, your career?" George stammered, finding enough courage to look at Dream.

"We can figure it out." Clay spoke, reaching an arm out to grasp him. George pulled away.

"You're not gay. You're straight." George backed away. "I'm happy if you're trying out and questioning your sexuality, but I don't want to be used." And there Clay's pupils widened and he stopped, let out a breath and crumbled.

"I'm- I'm not-" The contract. Harry. Everything. His life, his career. I can't tell him. Could I? Would he tell anyone else? Clay fell short.

George held back. Everything was falling apart. "Oh." Was all he could say. He looked up. George wouldn't dare look at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Forget about it, Clay." I don't want to forget about it, Clay wanted to say but George had passed him and left and shut the door behind him, leaving the blond all alone.