Chapter Text
George had been quiet ever since the interview clip started spreading online.
The version everyone shared was only a few seconds long.
"George is boring now."
The rest—where Lando had laughed and explained that George had simply become calmer and more confident off camera, that he was happier and more relaxed—had been cut out entirely.
George had seen the short clip before anyone could explain.
By the time Alex got home, his bedroom door was already closed.
He opened it carefully.
"...George?"
Silence.
Then he noticed the suspicious mountain of blankets and pillows in the corner.
Alex smiled softly.
"There you are."
No answer.
He walked over and gently sat beside the pile.
"You don't have to talk."
A tiny shift underneath the blankets was the only response.
Twenty minutes later there was a hesitant knock.
Lando.
His shoulders were slumped.
"I know he's here."
Alex nodded.
"He's still really hurt."
Lando's face fell.
"I never meant it like that."
"I know."
"But he doesn't."
Lando slowly walked over to the blanket mountain.
"...Can I sit?"
No answer.
Alex looked at the pile.
"I'm taking the silence as a 'fine, whatever.'"
A tiny sigh came from beneath the blankets.
Good enough.
The two of them carefully settled down, leaving space.
After another minute, Alex gently pulled back part of the blankets.
George was curled into a ball, cheeks pressed into a pillow.
His eyes were red.
Without saying anything, Alex wrapped one arm around him.
Lando carefully wrapped the other side.
George didn't move away.
Soon he was sandwiched between his two best friends in an enormous cuddle pile.
Several quiet minutes passed.
Lando finally spoke.
"I'm really sorry."
Nothing.
"I should've been more careful."
George stared at the blanket.
"I hate that the clip got cut like that."
Still nothing.
"I never meant you were boring."
George's fingers tightened around the blanket.
Alex nudged George gently.
"You know what I think?"
No response.
"I think you're one of the funniest people I know."
George's ears turned slightly pink.
Alex noticed.
"There it is."
Still no words.
Lando smiled sadly.
"I think you're one of the kindest people I've ever met."
George's cheeks grew warmer.
"And..."
Lando chuckled.
"I still laugh about half the things you text me."
George hid deeper under the blanket.
Alex grinned.
"Oh, he's definitely listening."
"You blush so easily," Alex teased.
George immediately buried his face in a pillow.
Lando couldn't help smiling.
"There it is again."
George refused to uncover his face.
Alex continued.
"You're thoughtful."
A little redder.
"You remember tiny details about everyone."
Redder.
"You always check if everyone's okay before yourself."
George squeezed his eyes shut.
Lando took a careful breath.
"I love spending time with you."
George froze.
"I don't need you to be loud."
"You don't have to entertain everyone."
"I like just sitting next to you."
George's face was now unmistakably bright red.
Alex laughed quietly.
"Oh wow."
"Lando broke him."
George made the tiniest protesting sound.
It wasn't a word.
Just a muffled little noise into the pillow.
Both of them looked at each other.
"He made a sound," Alex whispered dramatically.
Lando smiled for the first time all day.
"He did."
George hid even farther under the blanket.
Lando gently rubbed George's back.
"I really am sorry."
"I wish you'd seen the whole interview."
"I hate knowing I hurt you."
George stayed quiet.
But after another minute...
His hand slowly reached out from under the blanket.
It found Lando's sleeve.
He held onto it.
Just lightly.
Lando looked down at the hand, relief washing over his face.
"You don't have to forgive me today."
George didn't answer.
"But I'll keep reminding you what I actually meant."
Alex smiled.
"And until then..."
He pulled another blanket over all three of them.
"We're staying right here."
George still didn't speak.
He was still hurt.
But he didn't let go of Lando's sleeve, and he didn't pull away from either of the hugs.
For now, that was enough to tell them he still wanted them close, even while he needed a little more time for the hurt to fade.