Chapter Text
The WillNe office, birthplace of amazing moments that the fandom will cherish forever. It always had that slightly messy, half-organised energy that made everything feel like it was one step away from collapsing into chaos. Cables tangled themselves into knots no one bothered to fix.
Ieuan stood, fiddling with the camera and setting up the lighting while murmuring something to himself. Will stood just off center of the frame, reading through the notes with the kind of focus that suggested he cared more than he would ever admit out loud. And there sat, George Clarke, scrolling through his phone, glanced up occasionally, watching with quiet amusement. He wasn’t new to shoots, and this wasn’t even his first feature in the channel but there was something about today’s setup that felt a bit different than usual.
Will leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair and making the already messy hair somehow worse and better at the same time. It had that “I don’t try, but it still kind of works” energy. He glanced over at George, trying for annoyance but not really selling it, there was way too much excitement leaking through.
“You ready or what?” he asked, like he wasn’t secretly hoping the answer would speed everything up just so they could start already.
They started filming with their usual rhythm, slipping into that dynamic they had built, flirting that was technically jokes, but never fully just jokes. It was easy, almost automatic. Jokes bounced back and forth, each one slightly more ridiculous than the last.
George did what George always did, leaning into that familiar chaos with his friends, turning everything into something just a little too suggestive and gay for Will’s taste. But surprisingly, Will played along too, even instigating moments himself, which felt slightly off in a way neither of them commented on.
Underneath it, something didn’t sit quite the same way today. George noticed it. So did Will. Neither of them said anything about it. There was a different energy to it, but it somehow created one of their best videos yet.
“Right,” Will said, leaning in slightly, like he was presenting something life-changing, “Fast food dessert ranking. We’re doing it properly. No bias. No emotional attachment.”
George said, laughing to himself before he could even get the joke out, “You’re already emotionally attached to Mc Furries.”
“Well was that a dog gone joke or like a sexual furry joke-” Will asked, deciding whether he should be offended or just appreciate the good pun. As if it was to prove George’s point further, he then immediately reached for the McFlurry.
George tried it first, nodding like he’d just confirmed a scientific theory. “D tier. Obviously.” He took another spoonful, smirking as he stretched out his hand towards Will, “ooo here comes the aeroplane-”
Will shot him an unimpressed look, suppressing a smile. “Right, let's not-”.
George leaned back, giggling while Will ranted about McDonald’s. Almost like muscle memory, George took his spoon and fed Will without thinking twice. And, surprisingly, neither of them acknowledged it. It lingered for a second anyway, something that looked far too natural to be happening for the first time.
“Well I think its still a D Tier”
“You haven’t even pretended to think about it,” Will said, taking a second to taste himself.
“Yeah, because I’m right,” George replied easily.
Will leaned back slightly after tasting it. “Annoyingly good.”
George’s eyebrows lifted. “Annoyingly?”
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything,” George said, but he was clearly enjoying it.
They moved on to the apple pie. George picked it up first, holding it up between them like a
warning. “Careful. This one bites back.”
Will blinked at him. “It’s pastry.”
“It's a dangerous pastry.”
Will took a bite anyway, immediately regretting it. “This is literally molten regret.”
George watched him a second too long. “You look personally offended.”
“I am.”
“By food?”
“By life choices,” Will corrected, setting it down.
George leaned in just slightly again, closer than necessary, like it was just a habit now. “You’re soo dramatic about dessert.”
“You’re so picky about it,” Will shot back. “oo too hot, oh no too sugary” well said, mocking George’s accent.
George shrugged. “I have standards.”
“Mm,” Will hummed, not looking at him. “Sure.”
There was a beat where neither of them moved away. Just enough space to notice they hadn’t bothered to create any. The camera kept rolling, catching the little things in between, the glances that lasted a second too long, the way George kept looking at Will like he was still mid-conversation even when Will had clearly moved on, the way Will somehow always ended up reacting anyway.
George reached for the next dessert and immediately paused. “Right. Important question.”
Will didn’t even look up, taking a spoonful of pudding. “Mhmhm, go on” “
It is about ranking,” George said seriously. Then, after a beat: “But also life or death.”
Will finally looked at him. “That’s dramatic even for you.”
George held up a spoon like evidence. “If I rank this wrong, I lose my WillNe second channel guest ranking video privileges”
“You lost that ages ago.”
“Rude,” George said, immediately stealing a bite from Will’s spoon mid-argument like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Will blinked at him, sighing but clearly not uncomfortable. “You just—”
“Had to verify,” George said calmly.
“By stealing mine?”
“Yes.” Will shook his head, but there was no real frustration in it.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” George added, leaning back slightly like he hadn’t just caused a minor crime, “you’re still here.”
That made Will pause for half a second. “…Unfortunately,” he muttered, then went back to eating.
George grinned. The camera kept rolling, catching all of it—the ease, the timing, the way neither of them seemed interested in creating distance that wasn’t already missing. And somehow, it still felt like just another video. Just desserts. Just jokes. Just them.
Until it was edited, uploaded, and immediately picked apart, rewatched, clipped and absolutely adored by everyone who watched it.