Chapter Text
George woke with a hollow in his stomach, seizing his attention as he looked out his bedroom window onto early morning. An emptiness so palpable, he swept a hand over his stomach to make sure he was still there, satisfied when soft hairs graze his fingertips. He closed his eyes again to let his mind tuck away the last traces of sleep when he felt it. A throbbing just below his belly button that tiptoed up to his neck, over his chin, past his lips and finally ending on his tongue. Maybe a memory. He was clueless as to what and thoroughly confused after a quick breakfast did little to fill him. If anything, the pit grew wider and angrier on the edges.
He piddled around, dressing, tending his plants and tweaking mixes on his laptop. The guys would be over soon for a series of interviews that comprised their only official business of the day. He was trying zero in on that memory when he heard Matty snickering from the drive. George strode to the door and just before his hand touched the knob, it hit him: banana pudding. “Banana fucking pudding?” George asks the empty room. His stomach lurched in anticipation and it hurt this time. He stood there puzzled until Matty tapped on the window, always tapped and never knocked on the door. He let Ross and Matty in, forgetting about Adam entirely but the slender man squeezed past. The guys settle in, Ross making drinks and Adam playing with the TV, probably changing the language to Simlish.
George is still stood by the door with a question on his face until Matty grabs his hand. “...in here,” Matty asks, “for the calls?” His brow softens as Matty grumps and leads him to his office where George slouches by the window. Matty’s voice is even, asking him how he’s been feeling and what he’s working on. Something mean and red curls in his chest as George vividly remembers telling Matty exactly how he felt when they’d last spoke. He fixates on Matty’s middle finger hovering over and swiping the trackpad, how his entire hand flexes and undulates to induce this singular movement. George has had a lot of ideas and would love to bound up to Matty all excited and nervous for his friend to assess them but he’s stuck right now.
He nibbles on the thumb of his right hand, the one Matty grabbed, and grunts a noncommittal “Been ok. Stuff and things.” Matty gives him a side look then turns back to the screen, recounting his down time of writing, girls, new clothes and merch ideas. Ignoring the knot in his sternum, George straightens his spine and engages a little more. Seeing him for the first time in over a month, parts of George are happy to have him here. The back of his neck the most, where hair’s standing up, followed by his tongue, where that morning memory danced. The chasm under his shirt roils, he places a hand on it then calls out to Ross and Adam that they’re starting now.
George is far away in the round of calls, spending most of them surreptitiously combing for recipes on his mobile. George felt competent in the kitchen but some of them were too fussy or beyond his patience for such a simple treat. Why the fuck would anyone put meringue on banana pudding? That girl hadn’t put any on it the first time he had it. He flinches when Matty waves a hand in his peripheral then jerks his head towards the phone. He barely lets the interviewer finish repeating the question before mumbling something he’s said seventy times before then turned back to his phone. He was deceived by some artfully arranged photographs over text that allegedly contained a recipe but was more about the blogger’s kids and “inspo.” He rolls his eyes and resumes searching after seeing edible glitter in the ingredients. He hears his name coming out from Ross’s strained jaw. “George”, he grits, “fucking pay attention!” snapping his finger off the mute button. George turns his phone screen down, flashes his eyes to Matty’s, narrowed and unblinking, and makes it through the last two calls without distraction.
Back in the living room, Ross is just about frothing because he can’t understand the telly. George finally found a simple recipe that got to the fucking point and was absently scrolling through his phone and watching his friends. Adam has Matty’s head in his lap wheezing while Ross boils over. Matty nudges Adam’s ribs, prodding him to change it back or at least to German, for his sake, not Ross’. Matty shuffles his feet in George’s lap and stretches forward to pass the joint; fingertips sharing a current that fizzles when Ross drops the remote and heads out the back. Adam wisps up to run after him and Matty settles back into the groove Adam’s slight body left.
“What’s with you?” Matty hums. “Hmm? Oh, I just had a craving today, couldn’t shake it. Can’t shake,” George replied. “For?” Matty trills. George isn’t looking but knew Matty’s eyes were sparkling at the prospect of salaciousness. Knowing none would come, he suppressed a smile. “You’ll laugh, but I want...” George feels his face flash hot, “it’s silly.” “Please, you can tell me”, Matty sighs softly as he rearranges himself to be closer. George takes a deep drag, stares off then exhales, “banana pudding,” and giggles at the last word from the smoke working through him. Matty jolts his neck at an unnatural angle and lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “That jiggly cookie stuff we had in…North Carolina that girl made? It wasn’t bad”, he recalled. George nods and passes the joint back to Matty who grabs it without looking. “Yes. I was looking it up during our calls earlier.”
It’s this revelation that breaks Matty’s face out in laughter. “That’s what you were looking at?! My god, I was worried. We thought you were going cross-eyed over a stunning pair of tits. But desserts?!” Matty’s convulsing as he grasps to catch himself on the coffee table but misses and collapses in a pile of giggles. George knows his friend’s laughter is genuine but senses a ripple below its surface. He wishes he had more silly things to share that would elicit further joy from Matty. George is soon infected by it, gushing laughter, leaning to his side and glancing at Matty’s mouth. He felt flutters in his chest; he wanted his friend’s lips on his, pouring the laughter into him.
Picking the worst possible time, Ross walks back in and stops when he sees Matty at George’s feet, red-faced and dewy. “We didn’t smoke that much. What’s wrong with him?” Ross asks. George manages a “nothing” through a wide grin. Matty pipes up, “Me?! There’s nothing wrong with me, mate. My boy here is in love!” Adam and Ross smile suspiciously at George. “Who is--?” Ross starts but is cut off when Matty blurts, “Pudding!” which sends him into another fit. “Thought he was going crazy over a girl earlier but he wants banana pudding!” Matty breathlessly exclaims. “Do you want to have sex with it or…” Adam inquires mechanically. George and Matty are choking now, amused by the question and its asker’s sincerity. Ross rolls his eyes “fucking banana pudding…” takes the joint out of Matty’s hands, inhaling the last bit and snuffs it, “We’re heading to that party, are you coming or staying, Matty?” Bracing himself on the couch to get on his feet, he chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m going, let me grab my shoes."
George’s body felt compressed but numerous muscles twitched erratically, processing something Matty said earlier and he panicked slightly. He didn’t want Matty to leave and knew if he went to the party, they wouldn’t be alone again. Fighting through the weed coursing through him, he reached for Matty’s shirt, clumsily catching the hem between two fingers. Matty turns and George can only blink slowly up at him and say “’worried’?” It’s the only word that exists in his mind and mouth as he gazes into the shadow on Matty’s face. He must have conveyed something with his heavy lids because Matty says, “you go on without me.” George leans back into couch, neither he nor Matty break eye contact as Ross and Adam leave.
Matty sits with their legs touching, “Is there something more you want?” George’s head is swimming; he must be smart with this opportunity. “Know I do. I left it on the table, to wait, but with time, I concede that my eventually is your never. I’m going to respect that but I will always want more. Of you.” Matty lowers his head and blinks, “I didn’t mean for-” but stops when George rakes through his hair. The strong hand makes small circles on his scalp, drags down to his neck and lower back then withdraws it. “But what I want right now, inexplicably more than anything, is pudding so I can fill this ache in me. I’m going to get the stuff for the fucking pudding.” George fidgets with his finger then adds “And I want you to be here when I come back.” Matty turns back to him, knitting his brow, “You’re not leaving me,” getting a little touchy, “and besides you always buy the wrong cigarettes, getting me green you know it’s red. I’ll go.” George sighs and leans forward, Matty’s voice softening as he says “and I will come back here with you.” George nods his head as he gets up and grabs their shoes. Tying his first, he kneels and slips Matty’s on and gives the hand on his cheek a light kiss as they head into the night.