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"This video, for every goal you miss, you have to either pick a forfeit from the hat, or take a shot!" Chris explains for the tenth take.
George plays it up for camera, bouncing on the balls of his feet and stretching his legs, Bach and Arthur Hill seemingly doing the same. He doesn't have the energy for today, especially given it's the one year anniversary of his relationship with one particular Arthur Television, but he had agreed to this video weeks ago, not quite knowing when the date of filming was. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that the filming had to be on the one day a year that really mattered.
There had been a time in which Arthur had assured that once it had been a year they could stop counting the months, but it is a year today, and George feels guilty that he made plans.
The only thing keeping him motivated for this filming is the night in he has planned with the older man. Arthur had promised him a quiet evening, complete with a movie and takeaway. It's what they've done every month so far; Arthur chooses the takeaway and George surprises him with dessert, but every so often they switch it up.
George had initially wanted to do more for their one year, but Arthur likes tradition, so they follow their monthly ritual.
"I'm joined by three of my friends..." George zones out again. He doesn't plan on getting drunk on such an important day. Despite being able to handle his drink, he would rather wait until he is sat snuggled with Arthur to enjoy a cheeky glass. He's already mentally prepared to participate in whatever forfeit awaits him.
"You good?" Bach nudges him, snapping him out of his own head.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just anxious to get home that's all."
"GUYS!" Chris calls them over.
The first hour of filming is smooth if a little boring. The goalie is a new guy and it seems to be taking him a while to get used to how each of the men play. So far, George and Chris have yet to miss, Bach has taken a shot and Arthur Hill is wearing clown shoes for his next go.
When a couple more hours pass, Chris is tipsy at best, Bach is merry and not wearing trousers and Arthur Hill has bought flowers for a stranger, and is in an unpleasant mood.
George hasn't taken any shots. He has only done two forfeits, both of which were realitively tame, with one being drink a ketchup packet and the other to down a disgusting smoothie concotion. His gut says that this time won't be so lucky.
When George takes a run up to belt the ball he immediately knows he's missed. It flies through the air, not even skimming the bar, and hits the green fencing behind the goal with a terrible crash.
"Oof that is either a shot or forfeit for ol' Clarkey boy. What's it gonna be?" Chris rubs his hands.
"I have plans for tonight," George sighs. "And I cannot be drunk for them. Pass us the hat."
The boys cheer at George's misfortune, Hill making suggestive comments about the plans to the camera.
George rifles through the hat presented before him, stirring the small papers of doom. He pulls one out and holds his breath as he unfolds his misery.
"You gotta read it out loud." Chris helpfully supplies.
"I know you tit," he clears his throat but his brows furrowed in brief confusion. "It's says call your partner or parent and tell them a lie. The others get to decide the lie."
"Oh shit." Chris laughs. "Who are you calling?"
"This is so stupid. You better not do anything too ridiculous, we're calling Arthur." He knows his parents won't approve of whatever drunken lies his friends feed them, and he can only hope Arthur will understand what's happening. Whatever is going to happen.
"You have plans with Arthur tonight?" Bach says, rubbing his hands. Scheming.
"Yes, its our one year anniversary."
Bach makes a noise of interest, and when three pairs of eyes bare into his soul, George can already tell they have the same sick idea.
"Call Mr Television, and tell him you have to change your plans, but dont elaborate." Chris smirks.
"That's awful. You're awful. You are all awful."
"Or you have to drink!" Bach laughs.
Reluctantly, George grabs his phone from where he'd been keeping it in his bag. Everyone gathers around him, camera included, to watch him humiliate himself.
He clicks the contact under "Poppet <3" ignoring the awes from his mates.
"George! Shooting finished?" Arthur answers, not even allowing the phone to ring for long.
"Hiya Love, um, it isn't quite finished yet-" George doesn't get to finish.
"That's so annoying, I've come across a new dessert place and was just about to place an order."
"Yeah, Artie, about tonight. I think we're going to have to change our plans a bit."
There is a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the line.
"Oh."
"Yeah..."
"Oh okay, well, if you're back later thats fine, we can still order something and heat it up later. I don't mind a midnight dinner."
George chances a glance at the others around him. Chris motions for him to say something else.
"I just don't think tonight is a good time in general." George regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.
"What do you mean in general?"
"I just think that we could do this at any time yknow?"
"...oh." George hates that sound. The sadness. The disappointment. He wishes he had the damn drink.
"Yeah. Um, so I need to get back to filming."
"Yeah...of course."
"Love you." George tries.
"Okay. Love you too." Arthur hangs up first. Usually they go back and forth with the "I love yous", maybe throw in some exaggerated kissing noises. Not today.
"..."
"Shit man, that was rough." Arrhur Hill speaks up after a tense silence.
"Oh shut up, fuck you all by the way." He grabs his bag and begins to walk away, only to be grabbed by Chris.
"Where are you going? We still have to finish filming." He tries but Geroge just shakes him off.
"I think you've got enough footage. I have to apologise to my boyfriend because of a stupid YouTube video."
The train home is quiet. Though the journey isn't long, the weight of guilt makes his legs feel heavy as he gets off at his stop. He weaves through the crowds of people, muttering the occasional "sorry" and "excuse me" and he brushes by.
It isn't long before the apartment is view and before he knows it, George is at his front door, key in hand and stomach churning.
When he gets the guts to enter, it's quiet. Despite it being the afternoon, and not quite dark, the curtains are drawn.
George can see something on the dining table. He carefully walks over, the floor creaking too loud in all their usual spots. He spots a folded note, and tenderly he opens it.
"I'm with Liv. Needed to clear my head. I'll be back late. Love you." The note reads.
He turns on his heel, and heads for the apartment just downstairs from their own, and knocks on the door.
"Liv? I need to talk to him please?" He calls through.
The door swings open revealing an unimpressed Liv.
"We're in the middle of watching a movie thank you very much."
"Can I please just come in?"
"I don't know, it's a pretty good movie."
"Let him in Liv." George hears from behind her. Arthur is stood in view, in his usual emoji position, but he looks small...so so small.
George is reluctantly let into the apartment, and ignores the eye roll from Liv.
"You have five minute Clarkey." She warns, and leaves for the kitchen area, out of ear shot.
There is only a short moment of tense silence before Arthur speaks up first.
"You made me feel a bit like I didn't matter." Arthur quietly admits.
"I know. I know Artie and I regretted it as soon as I said it," George rushes. "It was a stupid forfeit for missing a damn goal, the guys chose what I had to say, it was either you or my parents and I was a fucking idiot even agreeing to do such a silly thing."
Arthur nods along, evidently taking in the words.
"You made me feel as though our anniversary was just another day. It felt like this year, all we've achieved together was just another day. I know we said we'd only do something small, hence the takeaway and dessert and quiet night in, but it still meant something. It meant something to me. It was hard announcing our relationship to our family and friends, and then it was even harder to announce it the fans. But it meant something. It meant a lot and you made it feel like it wasn't much of anything."
"Arthur, I know, trust me, I know. It was a stupid forfeit. A dare. I had every power to stop it and I didn't because I'm a twat-"
"-Yeah-"
"-and a coward-"
"-a little bit-"
"-but let me make it up to you."
George can see Arthur ponder on, but the older mans lips are turned upwards slightly.
"Art? Poppet? Love? Why are you smirking? That usually means trouble, I know that face." George can't help but begin to grin.
"No no, I'm just thinking."
"Oh no."
"It isn't anything bad."
"Oh?"
"I want a takeaway from that chinese place down the road. And I want to try that dessert place I was attempting to tell you about earlier. I want to watch a documentary, something narrated by David Attenborough preferably but I'm not fussed as long as there's animals. Lastly I want you to call Chris and tell him to edit our humiliation out of his video or I will leak his school photos and tell his mother what happened during our year ten school trip."
"What happened during your year ten school trip?"
"You best hope he deletes the footage George because you do not want to know."
They leave the apartment shortly after Arthur promises Liv they can finish watching the film another day. Liv also makes George promise that he's going to stop being an idiot.
They're soon curled into each other on the sofa, faces lit blue by the television in front of them. There's a mess of eaten food on the coffee table and the dessert is waiting for them in the fridge, but George doesn't want to get up yet. He's content right now, Arthur melted into his side, breathing in sync.
One year has flown by, and George can't wait for the many more to come.