After the Party

                                    

                                          
DREAM POV
                          


                          
Ow.
                          
Clay squinted against the light blinding his tired eyes. He tried to sit up and almost puked, immediately lying back down.
                          
Yikes. 
                          
He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten this bad of a hangover. Putting a hand to his forehead, he took deep breaths as his head buzzed and his heartbeat pulsed loudly in his ears. 
                          
"Aspirin?" A smooth, deep voice cut through the buzz. 
                          
Wilbur appeared in his peripheral vision, holding a small pill and a glass of water out towards him and smiling knowingly. 
                          
"Thanks." Clay mumbled gratefully, accepting the medicine. He swallowed the pill and then looked around, noticing the dozen or so people who were still fast asleep in various areas of the living room. 
                          
Wilbur followed his gaze, chuckling lightly.
                          
"Yeah. Gonna be a rough morning for a lot of us. Worth it, though."
                          
Clay managed a small laugh in response, wincing through the pain of his pounding headache. 
                          
"Have you seen George?" he spoke up, just noticing that the brit was nowhere to be seen. 
                          
"Yeah, he's in the kitchen with Phil and Big Q. He woke up about an hour ago and said he didn't want to wake you so now he's in the process of making a shit ton of waffles for everyone." 
                          
Clay raised an eyebrow. 
                          
"How is he not...you know, in pain??" 
                          
"Said he doesn't get hangovers. Lucky bastard."
                          
Clay groaned. Not fair. 
                          
He took another gulp of water, feeling the discomfort subside a little bit. He sat fully up, shifting himself to the edge of the couch. Wilbur stuck out an arm to help him up, and he grabbed it. They walked towards the kitchen in silence, dodging the piles of sleeping bodies and empty beer cans along the way. 
                          
They stepped through the doorway and George looked over from his position at the far counter, mixing waffle batter and chatting with Phil and Alex. 
                          
"What's up, Dream!"
                          
"Hey mate."
                          
Alex and Phil each greeted him, and Clay nodded at them. George set his bowl down, grinning and walking over to wrap his arms around Clay.
                          
"Morning. How did you sleep?" 
                          
Clay grumbled in response, and George laughed. 
                          
"Looks like someone is regretting last night's decisions."
                          
"Hardly. I just wish the aftermath wasn't so painful. Also when were you gonna tell me that you don't get hangovers???"
                          
George pulled away from the hug, still grinning. He shrugged.
                          
"Wanna help us make waffles?" 
                          
Quackity looked up from his phone.
                          
"Yeah, we could really use your speedrunning skills right now, Dream."
                          
Clay snorted. 
                          
"Alright then." 
                          
"Let's go!!!!" Phil laughed. 
                          
"Wait, I have just the song for this." Wilbur got up from the stool he was sitting on, walking over to his bluetooth speaker. A couple seconds later, music that Clay recognized all too well began to play from the device. All four of them cracked up. 
                          
"Trance music for Racing Game..." Quackity spoke between bursts of hysterical laughter. 
                          
"DUDUDUDU!" Clay wheezed as he imitated his own speedrunning music. He grabbed the bowl of waffle batter from George and opened the waffle iron, pouring the mixture in. 
                          
"WAFFLE SPEEDRUN ANY PERCENT!!" George cackled.
                          
"WORLD RECORD???" Wilbur yelled, still recovering from his fit of giggles. 
                          
"Can you guys PLEASE just shut UP!" the angry voice of Schlatt came from the living room, and all four of them fell into fits of contagious laughter all over again.
                          


                          
* 	* 	*
                          


                          
GEORGE POV
                          
George pulled into the car park of his apartment complex, turning the engine off after backing his acura into a free spot. He checked his phone for the time: 5pm. They had left Wilbur's in the early afternoon and had been on the road for 2 hours thanks to traffic. He looked over to the passenger seat and saw that Clay was still fast asleep, his head against the window and his mouth half open as he rested. George smiled, his heart fluttering at the sight of him. He leaned over into the other seat and planted a kiss on the sleeping boy's cheek.
                          
"We're home." he whispered.
                          
Clay blinked sleepily, slowly lifting his head from its position against the window. He smiled back at George, running a hand across his jawline and leaning in to kiss him softly. They stayed like that for a bit. Clay pulled away momentarily to meet his eyes. 
                          
"It never gets old."
                          
George furrowed his eyebrows a little. "What never gets old?"
                          
"The feeling...when I see you. When I touch you. When I kiss you."
                          
George's heart skipped a beat. He blushed, smiling coyly. He leaned his head against Clay's shoulder and they sat there in silence for a couple more moments until he decided to speak up.
                          
"Clay?"
                          
"Yes?"
                          
"Remember when you almost left me and went back to live in Florida?"
                          
"Yeah...why?"
                          
George paused.
                          
"No reason. I'm just glad you didn't go."
                          
A brief silence. Then:
                          
"Me too, Georgette. So glad." 
                          
George closed his eyes, smiling against his boyfriend's shoulder. There was no telling what the future would bring — what their future would bring — but George knew that whatever happened, he would do anything to keep Clay by his side.
                          
God, I'm so fucking in love with him. 
                          
And, unbeknownst to George, Clay was thinking the same thing at that same moment.
                          


                          
Unbeknownst to George, Clay had something big planned.