y/n: your name

tws: swearing

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y/n's pov *

i hopped out of the car and gazed down the long paved street of the outlet mall. clay and i had already dropped off george and nick at ikea and had promised that we would meet up with them soon. they had complained about having to get all the furniture by themselves at first, but we had told them that we would come to help in no time. i just needed to pick out a couple new outfits after all.

but now that i was here looking at the rows and rows of stores, i started to question if making this fast was even possible.

"holy shit, what's with the rush hour?" i commented, bumping shoulders with people as i walked in the direction of the first store i wanted to visit.

"i have no idea. i— here, come here," clay said, and took my hand in his, "i feel like i'm gonna lose you in the mob."

"this is giving me flashbacks to the airport."

"you got trampled there too?" he laughed, relating to my pain.

"yeah, but how did you? you literally part the crowd with your lanky six foot something ass."

he snorted. "i crouched down to pet somebody's dog and then got stepped on by a guy in chunky work boots."

"oh, i feel like i could have guess that. why is that such a you thing to do?"

he laughed. "i don't know, i don't know. but now i have a shoe print on my back."

"you're an idiot, i swear."

the entire walk down the bustling street, he didn't let go of my hand. i worried that my palms were getting sweaty or that he could feel my pulse racing, but even despite that i didn't want to let go. and besides, i thought it would have made him sad if i tried. i couldn't tell if he was genuinely worried about me getting lost in the crowd or if he simply just wanted to hold my hand. either way, it didn't matter to me.

i absentmindedly laced my fingers with his as we kept chatting, and we stayed like that until we got to the store and had to break apart to sift through the racks upon racks of clothing.

clay seemed a little lost. he sorted through some clothes and would occasionally hold up a stupid looking t-shirt and make me laugh, but he didn't actually pick out anything. by the time he set aside the third item of clothing he examined, i decided to put my foot down.

"clay, for the love of god, try something on," i said dryly, looking at him in the mirror as i held a shirt to my chest.

"oh, i'm good. i don't need anymore clothes," he shrugged, setting down another shirt.

"that same sweatshirt and jeans i saw you wear yesterday says otherwise."

"these are different jeans!" he defended.

"sure, sure." i put the shirt i had been holding up back on the rack. i wasn't really feeling it. it was a green cropped t-shirt, but the sizes were weird and i thought it would sag on my shoulders awkwardly. but i did think it would look good on...

i grabbed a bigger size of the same shirt and threw it at clay. "try this on."

he held it up curiously, and his eyes widened. "what! this is a crop top! i can't wear this!"

"you know how many fan arts i've seen of you in a crop top clay? put it on."

"you look at fan arts of me?" he smirked, folding the shirt over his arm.

"that... is not the point of interest here."

he hummed in response, a stupid smile still plastered on his face.

i rolled my eyes. "pleeease," i begged, exaggerating the e, "give the people what they want."

"more like give you what you want," he muttered.

i nodded with a shit-eating grin.

he sighed defeatedly and opened up a changing stall. "just for you."

i cackled evilly, sorting through some more clothes. i picked up a pair of sweatpants and tossed them over the stall door to clay. "ooh! get these on too!"

"what! i already have sweatpants!"

"not anymore, i stole them. those bitches were soft, and i'm gonna alter them to fit my voluptuous ass better, thank you very much."

he laughed. "you actually suck!"

a minute later, clay stepped out of the changing stall in the green crop top and baggy grey sweatpants i had picked for him. "okay... i actually kind of like this," he chuckled, turning side to side in front of the mirror to look at the outfit.

"oh yeah! it looks really good," i said. he turned towards me and struck a pose, and i snapped a picture with my phone to document the moment. "this is good. this is really really good."

"yeah?" he confirmed, turning to face me.

i nodded vigorously, averting my eyes to not blush too hard. the fan arts were nice, but the real deal was something else.

i smirked as i caught site of another item of clothing i wanted to see him in.

clay followed my gaze. "oh god, please no."

i chucked a plaid pleated skirt at him. "wear it or no balls!"

he held it up, wheezed, and sulked back into the changing stall to put it on as i had requested.

i grabbed the same skirt in my size and popped into the dressing room next to clay, setting down all the clothes i had slung over my arm so far so i could start trying them on.

i heard clay chuckle quietly before his foot crept under the stall barrier and gently tapped mine. i stomped on it jokingly. "don't you dare bring those dusty nike shoes near me."

"they're not dusty!" he wheezed, "you are never nice to me, you know that?"

"did i not just compliment you on how good you looked in the crop top?" i laughed, "please, i know you won't ever be on par with george's shoe game, but i will actually personally invest in trying to get you close."

"you are relentless."

"i know."

after a few more seconds, we both stepped out of the changing stalls at the same time, took one look at each other in matching skirts, and doubled over laughing. the next two minutes consisted of incoherent babbling, wheezing, and spinning to make the skirt flow out. we both stood in the mirror and did a little dance, which only made us laugh harder. i made sure to document these outfits too.

"send me those, send me those!" he repeated, wiping his eyes as he burst into laughter again.

we messed around for a little longer until one of the employees came up to us and started questioning if we were okay. after that, we quickly checked out and finished shopping. i wasn't able to convince clay to buy the crop top and skirt that looked oh so good on him, but i did convince him to get the sweatpants and a new pair of shoes. it was a start, and i was satisfied with it.

we hauled our shopping bags to the car and shoved them in the trunk. clay hopped in the driver's seat and sped down the freeway while george and nick rambled about how long they had been waiting for us. it had only been a little over an hour, which should be a record considering how many crowded stores we had to go through, and furthermore, we made it to the furniture store in less than thirty minutes. was this how life was when you tagged along with a speed runner?

we pulled up to ikea and clay texted george and nick that we had arrived and would meet them wherever they were.

as we slipped through the grand doors and into the never ending expanse of the giant store, clay gently took my hand. "don't get lost."