
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10590888.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      13_Reasons_Why_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Clay/Tony
  Character:
      Clay, Tony, Tony_Padilla
  Additional Tags:
      Situational_Humiliation, awkard_boners, nonconsensual_lap_sitting,
      Implied/Referenced_Cheating, Dry_Humping
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-13 Words: 1899
****** Just LISTEN To The Tapes ******
by Squeakyshroom
Summary
     Clay won't. Tony takes matters into his own hands.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Clay is insufferable, biking into direct traffic like he has a death wish. His
boy has painted a HIT-ME-PLEASE sign on his forehead and is peddling around
looking for trouble. It's gotten past the point of bravery and moved into the
zone of sheer stupidity. Tony's been watching for ten other tapes and nobody
else -not Justin or Jessica or Alex- has managed to drive him this crazy. Maybe
because I actually give a shit if something bad happens to Clay, a voice in his
head whispers.
It's all Tony can do to keep Clay safe. How many more times does he have to
whisk Clay away to safety until it sinks in? Tony's going grey worrying and
zooming off trying to keep track of this walking disaster. Worse...why has Tony
begun to enjoy his role as resident stalker slash guardian angel? There's a
sick pleasure in seeing Clay's eyes light up when he sees him and...it has to
stop. 
He flips open his contacts and glares at Clay's number like the phone is going
to dial itself. Finally, he hits 'call.' 
"Listen, Clay. Everyone else has listened to the tapes in one night," Tony says
firmly. "And you're gonna do the same."
"I just can't."
"Why not?" he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"I...don't know. I'm just so anxious every time that I hear her voice...and
I...I keep flashing back from the past to the present. I don't think I can just
sit down and binge them all cause It's really hard for me to listen for more
than a couple minutes. I have to shut it off. And every time I do turn it
on...I'm scared that it'll be mine."
"I get it, but it's enough. You're going to put on your big boy panties, bike
over to my house, and finish. Okay? This is all gonna end tonight."
"But isn't that against the rules? You have to go to the location and-"
"Fuck the rules, Clay."
"W-what?"
"At this point I'll just tell you what the destinations she intended and you
fucking listen, alright? That's the important part of this- listening to
Hannah's story. Not biking around like Mr. Wonder-Kid and getting yourself
killed by a car. That's not what Hannah would have wanted. No, I'm going to
hang up, pull up to your house, and you're going to get in my red mustang,
bien?"
"Okay, yeah. Lemme just go tell my mom."
It's not like Clay has been telling his parents anything but Tony allows it,
drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel. His phone buzzes, and it's a
text from his not-boyfriend boyfriend wondering where he is. Tony mutes his
phone and shoves it into his back pocket. He needs to just concentrate for one
night and help his friend get through this. Clay, looking like death rolled
over, stumbles out of his house with his backpack slung over his shoulder.
Someone needs to wash this poor boys hair and put him to sleep. How did his mom
let him walk out of the house looking like that? Tony shakes his head at the
intrusive, maternal thoughts as Clay opens the passenger door. 
"I still don't know if I can-"
"Don't be a child. Close the door and sit down," Tony sighs and starts the
ignition. Clay bites his lip and just protectively hugs the backpack to his
chest. He looks so small and tired, pushing his slick hair back, and Tony's
stomach twists with guilt. Seeing the others writhe had been justified in some
way, but Clay doesn't really deserve to suffer like this. Not for this long.
These tapes are a band-aid Clay needs to rip off with one listening. They're
not longer than fifteen minutes each, so it shouldn't even take him the whole
night to finish. All the other kids hadn't been able to put it down. They'd all
probably listened to it three times in the first night. But not Clay. 
They pull up into the driveway and sit in silence for a minute. Tony's worried
that Clay's fallen asleep but when he looks over he realizes that he's just
frozen with fear. He squeezes his shoulder and Clay gives him a hesitant nod.
"I'll try," Clay manages. 
He waves 'hola' to his papa as they pass him in the garage and head straight up
to his room. Despite his promise to 'try,' Clay's dragging his feet, so Tony
takes him by the wrist and pulls him sharply inside. 
"Any slower, and you'll be going backwards."
"I'm...scared," he whimpers as he slumps down on the bed, and Tony has the
strangest urge to ruffle his brown head. Or hug him. 
Instead, Tony squeezes Clay's shoulder once more and urges: "Listen to them
now. Be afraid later."
It has to end tonight and not a single night more. Tony can't keep tossing and
turning in fear that something's happened to his boy. He can't keep twisting
with anxiety. He can't keep this up. Tonight is the night. 
Clay slowly pulls out the tapes, pouting as he does, and puts the headphones on
on. Then takes them off. Puts them on. Takes them off.
"Look. I really don't think that I can do this. Can you be my unhelpful Yoda
maybe tomorrow or...?"
"Oh, dios. Now!'
"But I-"
Tony growls and pulls him onto his lap, holds him firmly by the waist.
Clay inhales sharply in surprise at the move, but Tony's done asking nicely:
"Listen to the fucking tapes, Clay!"
"A-alright. Alright," Clay clicks play and settles in Tony's lap.
Tony has his head resting on his friends shoulder, listening to the sound of
Hannah's voice leaking through the headphones. It takes him a minute to
realize- wait, this is kind of horribly intimate, especially with his steady
breath against Clay's neck and his hands wrapped around his waist. Oh god. He
swallows as Clay shifts his ass against him. This would be really bad time to
get aroused, but it's getting hard to keep his breathing regular with Clay's
soft backside pressed down against him. Try to think of unsexy
things...grass...grandma's ass...car crashes...
It takes him a full second to realize that the tape has stopped.
Clay shifts back against him again and mummers, "Uh, Tony...you're...um..."
hard.
"Just ignore it and keep listening, alright? Come on, baby," Tony flinches as
the soft 'baby' slips out of his lips, and the gentle word makes Clay squirm
even harder in his lap. Okay, this is a bad idea. Bad with a capital B. 
"Y-yeah, sure," Clay stutters because he's too nice and heterosexual to make a
fuss and turns the tapes back on.
Tony bites back a whimper at the continued heat of Clay in his lap. The way
Clay looks so small and nice there, like it's where he belongs, is too much.
Maybe Tony's the one who needs to get some sleep with these delusional
thoughts. He slows his breathing, but it's no use. Not with those little,
breathy noises that escape from Clay's lips. He bites his lip when he sees a
bulge in Clay's jeans as well. Ok, maybe Clay isn't as nice and heterosexual as
he first thought. 
Clay pauses the tapes and pushes back against Tony. A semi-hard boy squirming
in his lap, even with all his clothes on, is enough to make him fully erect.
Tony tries to hold him and stop his shifting, but it only seems to egg Clay
on. 
"You're doing that on purpose now."
"I can't listen to the tapes," Clay whines. "Seems like you can't either." 
"N-no, I can concentrate. Keep going."
"I don't think it's appropriate to listen to a dead girl's final message with
an erection, Tony."
Well...when you put it like that, Tony thinks and flushes.
"Then go take care of it. Okay? The bathrooms there, and I'll also just-"
"You started it so...you should finish it."
And with that Clay's turns in his lap, so he's straddling him. His cheeks are
red, hair slicked back, and eyes dilated. Tony should be the 'adult' and put a
stop to this, but he's a seventeen year old boy not a saint. The rational part
of his brain is off, and the part that wants to kiss Clay is turned way up. He
runs a hand through Clay's soft, brown hair and presses their foreheads
together. Their lips are so close...their chests flush together....erections
pressed up to each other...
"Why couldn't you just listen to the fucking tapes?" Tony groans even as he
cups Clay's face and kisses him. He kisses him hard and dirty like he's been
imagining for a while now. In the back of his mind, he remembers the texts from
earlier, and he knows that this is wrong. But Clay tastes like peppermints.
Tony's mind drifts away even as his body moves forward, desperately rutting
without his permission. He's delirious from Clay's soft body in his lap. Stop
you idiot, his mind screams, trying to pull him back, but the voice isn't
louder than the arousal pushing him forward.
Clay's still at first but then he starts to kiss him back and that's all the
consent Tony need to run a hand down his arched back. He rests his hand over
Clay's ass and squeezes the softness over the rough denim. Their breathing's
getting more labored as they pant into each other's mouths. He rolls them over,
so now he's between Clay's open thighs, and it's easier to rut against him. The
sinful smack of their lips is the only sound in the room as he heatedly ruts
forward. Clay's eyes are glazed, even more lost in the moment than he is, and,
judging by the helpless shake of his hips and the increasing volume of his
moans, he's getting closer and closer. My boy's so loud. 
"Shhh, my dad's downstairs," Tony manages to whisper, but there's not use for
words. Not now. 
Clay makes an unintelligible noise in response, and they're both past the point
of pretending. Tony quiets him with a deeper kiss, burying his hand in Clay's
hair. Pulls. Rocks forward. Gasps. Rocks forward again. 
When Clay wraps his legs around Tony's back, he arches it, toes curling, and
tries to stop himself from cumming. It's only been two minutes if that. But
Clay's broken, little noises and needy clinging is too much. Tony squeezes his
eyes, riding the high of his orgasm, and cums in his jeans. Clay cums a second
after.  
They lie there, panting.
And after all that? Clay still hasn't listened to the fucking tapes; they lie
behind them, and Tony's stomach twists with guilt at the sight. This is not how
he planned for the night to turn out, but, judging by the smile curling at
Clay's lips, it's not the worst way either. 
"Will you stay with me?" Clay whispers, interlacing their fingers together.
Tony's glad he's not freaking the fuck out about what happened. Maybe the
orgasms have just over ridden their common sense or maybe they've just been
edging around each other for too long. Either way Tony's heart twists happily
when Clay snuggles into his neck.
Tony squeezes his hand and sighs, "Duh, you still gotta finish those tapes."
But he thinks always.
End Notes
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