
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11676369.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      13_Reasons_Why_(TV), Thirteen_Reasons_Why_-_Jay_Asher
  Relationship:
      Clay_Jensen/Alex_Standall, Zach_Dempsey/Clay_Jensen, Jeff_Atkins/Clay
      Jensen, Justin_Foley/Clay_Jensen, Onesided_Hannah_Baker/Clay_Jensen, Clay
      Jensen/Tony_Padilla, Clay_Jensen/Jessica_Davis, Clay_Jensen/Mental
      health, Clay_Jensen/Sheri_Holland
  Character:
      Clay_Jensen, Hannah_Baker, Zach_Dempsey, Jeff_Atkins, Tony_Padilla,
      Justin_Foley, Courtney_Crimsen, Bryce_Walker, Alex_Standall, Jessica
      Davis, Sheri_Holland
  Additional Tags:
      Nymphomania, Clay_has_problems, Hannah_doesn't_get_it, doctors_don't_get
      it, No_One_Gets_It, their_skin_does, their_warmth_does, That's_enough_for
      him, Ice_Baths, Public_Sex, Lost_Love, Cuckolding, Stringing_along, Dark
      Comedy
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-01 Updated: 2017-08-03 Chapters: 2/? Words: 5320
****** On Fairer Days ******
by PapaNoLivesMatter
Summary
     Its a hard knock life when the only things your body will let you
     think about is fucking and not trying to end up in a loony bin. Its
     made all the harder when the former of which inspires some less than
     wise decisions. Sleeping with Hannah Baker is prime amongst them, as
     now the one that actually deserved to be seeking medical attention is
     using him as her one anchor back into the world. Not wanting a
     suicide note with his name peppered about, Clay plays it easy but he
     has problems of his own, problems that can only be solved in coitus.
     Yet with this madwoman on his arm seemingly every other second its
     become quite a bit more difficult, he'd need to take more ice baths.
Notes
     This idea came to me when I was wondering how different the story
     would be if Clay were a more outgoing crazier sort as, let's face it,
     normal people don't have nearly as many hallucinations as he does on
     a daily basis. This came to the idea of nymphomania and a madness he
     tries so desperately to suppress with it. I also thought that Hannah
     being a romantic would also subscribe to the idea of sex=love and
     that gave me the idea for this dark comedy.
***** What Follows Soon After *****
The library was devoid of its usual sorts, a side effect from the end of a long
week and the promise of a fun filled week end to be had in recompense. It was
hardly to be blamed, the final bell had sounded some time ago and countless
students flooded between the entry doors ready to begin an undoubtedly sinful
streak that would be best held down in the subconscious with a mix of hard
liquor and horribly prepared narcotic cocktails. A great deal of fun, but Clay
sadly would not be joining them just yet, neither would Jeff at this rate.
Clay cast a cursory glance at his fellow student, his face supported with one
hand and the very end of a pencil caught along the surface of his lips. Jeff in
all honesty looked as though he were being tortured. That wasn’t so much of a
stretch in all honesty, calculus was hard, it had even given Clay a fair deal
of trouble when he was first undergoing the course. He’d passed of course, but
then again he wasn’t Jeff and Jeff took to mathematics like a cat offered dog
treats. Which was to say not well, against outlier cases.
‘Fuck man!,” Clay jumped ever so slightly, the exclamation accented with a loud
slam of the baseball player’s fists on the table. Jeff turned to Clay, eyes
pleading for a sip from the great fount of arithmetic prowess the other
supposedly drew from. At that Clay could only shrug, pointing once more to the
problem on Clay’s sacrificed paper, the problem surrounded by a barbed mesh of
half erased failed solutions.
“You just need to follow the formula like this.” Clay pointed to the beginning,
capturing the other’s eyes with his own in order to ensure proper attention was
given unless he put more effort into nothing. Jeff was an awfully difficult
student sometimes, extra help being quintessential to ensuring the issues
resolved. When the other continued staring straight at him Clay grasped the
other’s hand, conveniently Jeff was left handed, and brought both limb and
grasped digits back to the paper.
‘Like this,” Clay began, sliding closer to the other one to make the reach less
awkward and press himself into the other’s side, a note noticed with a curious
side line and a return stare from Clay that told him to watch the paper. They
walked through the problem, Clay guiding the other’s hand through the steps
until the factoring was set to a clean order allowing the solution to be found
with less mind boggling uncertainty. This in turn lit up the other’s face like
a Christmas tree, eyes blown wide and a smile playing across his lips which
made Clay chuckle. A difficult student but a rewarding one. A warm one as well.
It was cold in the library, the AC overproducing despite the chill outside and
setting the room with an almost frosty aura to it. From here he could feel the
heat coming from Jeff’s body, a form trained to perform and burn to keep
muscles pulling and a body moving. From here, his arm retracted from the others
as he worked the problem on a calculator. Clay could even smell him. Clay loved
that colon, a musky mix that permeated from the other’s neckline and clavicle
to mingle perfectly with the natural musk already there. He moved further
burying his nose in the space between neck and shoulder. Deep within a hollow
stirred. A hunger returned and he did his best to see it sated.
“Dude really? I mean you’re kind of making it hard to focus and,” the argument
ended in a grown as Clay started to kiss up the expanse of the other’s neck.
“Oh I’m sorry,” Clay laughed into the other’s skin, “I just thought you could
use some of that positive reinforcement you always go on about.” Clay continued
up the other’s neck until he reached the top where the other’s ear began and
gave the lobe a nibble that caused the other to groan and grip his pencil all
the harder.
“Don’t stop now,” Clay whispered into the other’s ear, “get this one right and
I’ll be sure to give you a special reward,”
“Oh yeah?” Jeff’s reply was delivered out between shivering breaths, his pulse
hammering noticeably and a flush creeping up his face. Precious warmth
returned, Clay pressed further watching intently as the other split focus
between desperately computing the problem and leaning into Clay’s touches. The
latter of which had amped up as the end of the computing drew near. One of
Clay’s hands had found a way to the other’s thigh, riding ever higher with a
swirling motion that felt the curve of every muscle.
“Almost there,” Clay whispered into the other’s ear as he watched his student
work through it with increasingly feverish marks on the paper. And like all
good instructors, a note of positive enforcement in the form of Clay’s hand
working the zipper of Jeff’s jeans slowly open fell in tandem.
“Done!” Jeff shouted anxious to turn and consume Clay’s mouth with his only to
be stopped by a faint pushing against his shoulder.
“I have to check it first,” the other chuckled against the keening noise that
sounded when Clay withdrew his hand. He didn’t really, it was a simple problem
with an answer he’d already summarized from a quick glance. Jeff, however, had
a tendency to be especially reactive when kept waiting as the heavy breathing
and flustered appearance could attest to. Clay looked up slyly to the other, a
smirk on his lips.
“Well it looks like you managed to get it done,” a breathless “uh huh” and wild
eyes that stared back at him, “and you did it correctly.” Clay continued on,
enjoying the mock suspense and the sheer hunger in the other’s eyes. “I suppose
you are deserving of a reward,” and with that he slipped a hand under the table
reaching for the still open zipper and placed his palm flat against the pulsing
mass of Jeff’s dick. Savoring the way the other’s hips attempted to buck into
his hand against the cloth.
“How about some drinks on me at Monet then?” The question hammered out nearly
startling Jeff out of his chair before he rose up, covering himself with his
textbook knocking the scratch paper and pencils across the table. One was
caught before it could clatter onto the carpet. It was placed back with a
bright smile and an airy “saved your life” from none other than Hannah Baker.
Sweet merciful Christ not again, not fucking again.
“Hannah Baker!,” Clay cried, frustration fought guilt in his tone making the
name creak and crack as it filled the once empty library. Play it cool, just
play it calm. Was she fucking with him? It would be hard to miss, they were
practically drooling over one another. Then again he had to remember who he was
dealing with, especially that wistful airy expression that positioned within
his view like magnets. Far, far away from Jeff who was trying and failing to
discreetly zip up his pants and not get his meat caught in the uptake.
“Hey there, Helmet! Having fun playing teacher?” its delivered with what Clay
could only think she believed to be a coy sly wink but in actually manages to
stop the beam of one crazy eye for a moment only to make the other beam all the
greater. Why did he have to be so fucking stupid. If he ignored her would she
have just run off? Probably, but then again it would be into open traffic and
god knows he didn’t need to give his parent’s another excuse to cart him off to
a therapist. Why did he have to be so fucking stupid about this earlier.
“Yeah we were just wrapping up some last bits of calculus. You could say he
aced the class. What exactly are you doing here” Clay responded with a properly
coy wink. A horrible decision that became all too clear when Hannah noticed and
beamed all the brighter at that, almost as if his question were following the
rules of quantum mechanics and decidedly did not exist as she chose to view it.
“Oh so we should celebrate! I was serious about the cafe though, I swear you’ll
love it,” pure hope filtered through her eyes and voice.It was like standing
before a light house. A light house with a mess of curly brown hair that had a
sixth sense for interrupting and all the mental stability of a house of cards.
Clay moved to open his mouth, a polite rejection in favor of being there to
help Jeff prep for the game that night. It wasn’t a complete lie, he was
planning to help take the other’s mind off the game before it started and try
some new things as the pre-alluded reward. The exactitude of which was nestled
in his bag freshly acquired and ready for use. Fresh batteries as well, it made
him grin just thinking about it. He did not get the opportunity, however.
“Uh yeah sorry Hannah I really can’t, I've got to go get ready right,” Jeff
hurriedly stuffed his belongings into his own bag, faster than Clay could
follow. The flush was rapidly becoming a mark of exertion along his features.
Clay could only look on mouth slightly agape. Even if he was nervous about
being interrupted only a complete and total moron would not sense that
something was the matter now. Though there was something oddly captivating
about the shame on the flustered actions that made a hollow sturr all the more.
“Oh that’s a shame,” Hannah began, never taking her eyes of Clay and ignoring
the mad tornado that was Jeff Atkins at his side, “but me and Clay will be sure
to enjoy all the caffeinated rushes we can in your place, right, Clay?”
“Of course, Hannah. I’m sure it’ll be so much fun.” An ugly smile twisted
across Clay’s face, a bastardized attempt at appearing open and carefree but
failing by not only being thrown to the wolves by Jeff but also by the sudden
loss of that comforting heat and an angry void in its place.
“Wonderful,” Hannah moved around the table until she was beside Clay waiting
for something unsaid until Clay got the hint and started shuffling his things
into his own bag.
“I’ll see you before the game tonight?” Clay said, trying to grasp back the
attention of the fleeing Jeff before he disappeared through the library's side
entrance.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Just text me later alright?” and with a last crooked smile
thrown up for him he left through the door. It was a blessing he looked that
good in all honesty, or Clay really didn’t think he would bother. Well that and
he was as open to new things as Clay was.
“Alrighty then, shall we depart, noble Helmet Knight Jensen?” Hannah extended
her hand with mock regality complete with a false accent and, fearing another
freak out like the countless public ones he’d seen many people on the receiving
ends of, he took Hannah’s hand and followed her to the cafe. Surely that would
be it, she couldn’t possibly make something like coffee so dreadful, it was
just her reputation, right? All people deserved to be heard out again, right?
Good god he could only hope. While at it he might as well have hoped for an
easier time with the cravings, he’d pinned quite a few hopes on Jeff’s
otherwise staple reliability.
***** About The Other Night *****
Chapter Summary
     An actual start of the plot seeing as how the other was just to wet
     your appetites. Sadly no sex in this one mostly prudish plot. However
     you will get more than your fill in the next chapter. This is the
     actual plot of the story and will help establish what the major
     themes behind it as I'm sure many of you will be able to pick out and
     see.
Chapter Notes
     Also thank you to everyone that cares to leave kudos or comments on
     my work, specifically Etsuko, who has a shared interest in the ships
     I have. Though I am sorry to say I have a darker outlook on writing
     so it won't end the way you will probably want between Clay and Tony,
     or really any of these characters. Its a dark comedy but it has a
     silver lining at the very end. It will be quite the ride.
     If you like my work, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated
     regardless of what the comments are. Love me? Leave a comment. Hate
     me? Leave a comment. Want to know if I'm actually a Nigerian prince
     living in Hong Kong? Well the answer is no but be sure to leave a
     comment anyways.
There’s an art to drinking coffee with friends, Clay feels. Its a crucial
balance as delicate and catastrophic as the earth’s position in the universe.
Life giving caffeine with the radiance of the sun must be enjoyed so as best to
provide succor to its consumers. However as the sun giveth, likewise with the
tall vanilla cappuccino Clay currently enjoyed, it taketh and fearing a burn in
the form of a stomach ache from the ungodly amount of sugar swirling, he
exercised caution. It left many cafe goers with room for conversation,
observable in any of the awkwardly arranged booths or tables with their uneven,
clashing furniture. It was something of an artistic choice Clay was sure, and
most likely the same decision line that denied Clay his position there and had
Zoe take his place. He was over it by now, there were more important things
that came in the process such as a job at the theater and the long nights when
z-rated movies allowed for empty theaters and ample time for guests.
This felt much like those nights, barring the existence of the hot setting sun
shining in through the windows and the abundance of ambient noise. He liked in,
and in any other situation when alone and given something entertaining to mull
over it would have provided excellent white noise. Now however, it was a
jarring reminder of his host who had yet to say a word since they arrived. The
fire that had so enwrapt her had dimmed greatly since their initial trudge
over. Clay had placed his bike in Jeff’s trunk with full intentions of being
able to ride it back home the next morning. Now he was stuck in the unfortunate
position of debating whether asking Hannah for a ride in her mom van would be
worth it. That was of course if she would say anything and Clay was not sure if
he wanted to open the airlock that was Hannah Baker just yet. He could recall
the first time they met and she practically gave him an abridged version of her
life story. The memory still made him cringe ever so slightly, the pinning
being almost visible through the onslaught of words.
“So…” Clay began, taking another sip from his drink and letting his eyes wander
around the cafe. Several of his fellow classmates enjoying the last of their
drinks before their friday night could actually begin. How best to begin? He
needed something of hers, something that had its own string of foul memories
for her, if Tony’s rendition of homecoming was anything to go off of.
“So…” she responded back, a faint smile tugging at her lips and sending some
warmth back into her eyes. So far so good. He’d need to lean into it and avoid
the rather unsavory bits. More importantly he would need to be blunt, an expert
combination of them all and Clay the aim wasn’t even to get her pants off. Now
that was certainly a first.
“So, why is it that you were staying after so long? I didn’t think you were a
part of a club or anything?” he leaves out the part that joining a club of any
kind would require mingling with other human beings, and seemingly everyone
Hannah had come into contact with usually broke off contact with following a
public yelling match. Except for Alex of course, he never did get a straight
reason out of him. Then again their time together wasn’t much for conversation
aside from the countless “oh gods” the other could moan out when Clay was
slamming into him from behind. Well that and a brief conversation in which
Alex, much to Clay’s bemusement, wondered if the latter would mind being called
an honorific during which. The exactitude of which was “Sir” and Clay was not
quite sure he wanted to get into something like that, it lead to reliance and
that was not something he wished to get into.
“Oh that,” Hannah began, her face lighting up with a faint crimson blush at her
cheeks, “Actually that’s kind of embarrassing honestly,” she struggled out and
covered with a sip from her own drink. Possibilities whirled through his head.
Maybe she was there just to yell at him and dip out. Anyone willing to make
that much of an ass of themselves in public completely sober would have to feel
some kind of shame. If that were so he might as well coax it out of her and try
to make amends as platonically as possible.
“Don’t worry, Baker. You’ve seen me miss shift just to get some free screening
time of Eleven Elven Wars 3: Wrath of the Dwarves. There’s peace her amongst
the nerds.” That drew a laugh from her, a high singing note that carried on for
perhaps a bit too long and crumbling near the end. He’d scene that trick before
countless times amongst his peers. It was that tell, that same tell of “oh my
god just ask me out you idiot” that countless bottle blondes cast to the
rapidly un-babbyfacing athletes. Alright maybe it wasn’t a yelling contest she
wanted then
“Well, I am going to hold you to that then, Clay Jensen. I...actually stayed
after since I wanted a chance to talk with you. Alone. That is, without anyone
else,” Clay cast a head turning glance around the room and its countless
drinking occupants, “that’s why I was trying to lean in on the creep factor
with Jeff. I-I’m not like that usually I swear.” she attempted to cover it up
with a giggle and another sip of a poorly named icy caffeine drink.
“Hannah,” he said with a chuckle that did not betray the fear rapidly rising
within him, “you know we work together. You could have just waited until our
shift tomorrow to have a chat right?” He found himself wishing for a return of
another night at work. A night where his will was tested and found wanting, the
consequences of it sitting before him and robbing him of a fun evening with
Jeff, and Sheri the other day though he doubted that was the only reason she
decided to start screaming at Alex. He caught the latter on the round out
though which wasn’t all that bad, the insistence of an honorific being used
against his wishes then.
“I know. I just felt like I needed to do this as soon as possible and not to be
weird but every time I tried to talk to you, you seemed to be sidetracked by
something. Like you were always caught up with someone else.” she wove her
hands there, the double meaning that she oh so certainly meant being horribly
waved away, “Not like that. I know what’s its like for everyone to call you a
slut and be judged so harshly. Like what they say about you and that you’re
some kind of whore that’ll sleep with everyone.” Her eyes captured his, a sad
smile playing against her lips as she took one of his hands between two of her
own. Whether she noticed the reflexive pull back or not Clay did not know, nor
did he think she cared.
“What we shared that night was something special. I opened myself up to you and
you to me and it felt so pure. I feel like that’s how its supposed to be not
some sweaty smashing like animals that everyone else does. Or like they say I
do, I guess.”
‘Or like I actually do,’ Clay thought
As most are fans of saying mistakes were made. With Hannah Baker Clay could say
that he made, without a doubt, the biggest mistake of his life. For it was with
pity at her sad stature, at her disheveled uniform that looked as though it had
been pulled on, and at her face with countless streaks of tears tracking down
the expanse of her face that he felt something. It was beyond the simple hunger
of the void, though it was pleased by his actions to her. It was something that
made him reach out with words that did not first whisper pillow talk but
instead reach out to Hannah herself. The rest of her came after as it always
did, the void taking its own in a moment of weakness that was as alien to him
as the exact surface of Mars.
Clay had asked how she was. It was an awful icebreaker, a bastardized stab into
conversation that was bound to be riposted by a monotone “fine” as she
continued stacking the many condiments behind the counter. Normally, Clay would
have forgotten it and let it die. That was not a normal time. Instead he
reached out, both physically and conversationally, probing for the truth that
was already evident. She broke then, the genuine pity not mattering so long as
it was at least genuine, and embraced him. Clay had of course returned the
gesture, letting her sob into his chest as she recounted the countless wrongs
enacted against her or whatever sort of speech the strangled sobs were supposed
to be. If he were honest that was when he began to lose interest. The
temptation to let her go and pat her back, to offer a tissue and a reminder to
chin up rising in tandem with the mawing of the void. One beat the other down
of course as the void always did. No ice was available, nothing to sooth the
burn that was spreading through his body and becoming bearable only where their
two forms met and so like an idiot he followed it instead of making the wise
decision to break away and stick his head in a bucket of ice.
He’d lifted her face up to his, tears still streaming and the faintest line of
snot oozing from her face and he kissed her. Sweetly at first. The faintest
brushing of lips upon lips, savoring the taste the lack of experience and the
innocence behind it. He’d enjoyed it then, before the void stirred and he went
deeper. Clay had claimed her mouth, exploring it with his tongue as he did most
of his fellow bedfellows though she was easier. Not knowing much of the act she
followed his lead, enjoying it as he did and attempting to return the fire back
with her own. Though, all that did was make it into a sloppy wet sounding mess.
More he had wanted, and so did she. The rumors and the harsh reputations pushed
aside he wanted it all as she did. A primal dance between the two that
inevitably led to the back storeroom and the beginning of a far more friction
based one. It was almost nice. She was a pretty lay without a doubt but in the
cramped room having to sport their combined weight as he drove into her and she
waved madly back and forth with all sorts of forced noises above him. At the
very least he was able to prove the theory of her promiscuity false, she had
most certainly never done something like that before if the bleeding and awful
performance were anything to go off of. That and the fact that she could only
get her bra off of one breast that pressed against her with the other
constrained. Even the void seemed put off but nonetheless sated when it finally
ended.
“Yeah, they say its the deepest contact you can ever have with another person.
The highest level or something like that right?” Sloppy and uncultured. Aided
not by the promise of a bedroom nor the use of mutual goods that usually added
a rumbled tone of voice, it instead fell flat. Foolishly and dorkly it feel
between them though Hannah was of no high standards. Her demand of company was
already met, the threat of ridicule abandoned and buried by the lowering of his
own status to that of hers. Clay felt for his phone once more. He considered
his ability to fake a phone call of importance but without prompting and the
initial report that Clay should message Jeff first he tossed the idea aside
entirely. Feigning fatigue what out of the question, the caffeine was already
running through his system inspiring a force of action that sadly lacked a
proper outlet. A quick glance throughout the room confirmed that, though Zoe
tried to appear disinterested regardless of how he caught her staring.Curious.
“So-” Clay began mouth just beginning to form the words
“Do you want to know why I really asked you to come here today?” her face is
hard as she said it, her eyes glassing over to become a solid screen that did
not allow light to pass through.
“Sure, go right ahead then,” he attempted to cover up his unease with another
sip of his drink. He didn’t react when only foam was left lest it break the
hold that came over her.
“I was thinking about doing something horrible that night Clay. I thought that
if I did something...crazy, something very, very crazy that everything would
get better and that I wouldn’t have to keep going the way that I have been for
so long if I were just brave enough to do something about it-” brave or
cowardice? Clay had enough problems but unfortunately he couldn’t run away from
it if that was she was implying. Though as he stared into her eyes and saw the
wild light that had overtake them he had a faint inkling that it was.
“-That I could finally just be happy again after so long. Then you came along
and you helped me when I needed it the most and I just wanted you to know that
I appreciate it Clay.” with a softening face and tentative fingers she grasped
his hand once more. It was a cooling touch, without heat or fire behind it and
the void was as disinterested as Clay was, though that did little to affect its
otherwise growing hunger. “You saved me Clay Jensen, and I appreciate that more
than I think you could possibly ever know.”
A smile was his only shield. It met with hers and had a growing effect that
spread from ear to ear before she chuckled and savored the rest of her drink.
“Anyways I guess its time we get going. Do you need a ride?”he accepted of
course, the long walk home being too daunting to undergo. Though as he took his
seat in the car he couldn’t help but feel some trepidations, mostly because
Hannah took every chance she could to turn and cast a smile his way. It would
be a long ride home.
 
Luckily he did not perish in a car crash. As he waved Hannah goodbye at the
front of his house, he reflected briefly on his options. The void had recovered
from Hannah’s undue influence, flaring against him even as he stepped into his
empty home. His mother would still be at work by now, a hard working legal
battle taking her attention away from tedious notions like family or security.
Clay’s father was likewise disposed, though the exact reasoning why had been
lost to him some time ago. Besides, it wasn’t worth the effort of trying to
remember, not when the searing reached his heart.
Clay groaned as he grasped his chest. A gnawing feeling tearing at him from
inside. He had placed too high of hopes in Jeff today, he’d not planned on that
idiot girl interrupting them and ruining everything. Clay had especially not
counted on Jeff’s cowardice, and the gnawing that was rapidly clawing along his
limbs. Clay struggled to the kitchen, retrieving a bucket from the closet left
there from a leak long ago and raided the refrigerator for ice. It soothed his
skin where the two touched though removing it caused the pain to return in full
fury. It was getting worse now, a gnawing becoming a clawing with razors in
place of claws, and the burning an inferno from the very bowels of hell itself.
The struggle up the stairs to his bathroom was as comical as it was blurry. The
scramble to his bathroom was triflingly slow, the water filling the tub a
question of patience as he stripped off the clothes that rubbed against him
like sandpaper. Retreating into his room as the tub filled he retrieved a
hoodie from the bottom drawer of his dresser.
It was a pathetic thing in truth, the color had diminished greatly since it was
first given to him but as he pressed it close to his face and breathed in the
scent nude, the burning eased a slightest amount. Not enough to be sated, no he
had waited far too long for that. Instead he returned to the bathroom and its
rapidly rushing waters. A quick upturn of the ice into the bath waters created
a top layering that blocked both his vision and the lights. Perfect.
Clay set the old hoodie aside next to the rest of his piled closed and stepped
into the water. It leached the warmth from his bones, soothing the burn that
was all but consuming. Better but not enough. Clay took a deep breath and
slipped beneath the surface, closing his eyes as the ice rose up to cover him.
Beneath the surface the void had no power, its many gnawing teeth and horrible
fires could not reach him.
‘You saved me, Clay Jensen,’ stop.
‘Not some sweaty mashing like animals that everyone else does,’ please stop.
‘Its the deepest contact you can have with another person,” shut up.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t. I just-I just can’t anymore Clay. I love you,”
Clay bolted up from beneath the waters, his lungs grateful for a return to
oxygen as he leaned back in the tub and rubbed at his eyes. A sting had risen
there. Not a device of the void though he tried his best to convince himself
that it was. It didn’t matter that the ice had robbed the fire from his body.
It did not matter that he could not bring himself to look at the hoodie save
for when he pulled it over his head and, against better knowledge, breathed in
along the collar line. It didn’t matter that the action brought an ache to him.
It mattered that his phone started to ring. Jeff the screen read.
“Hello?” his voice was empty into the phone, an action he quickly corrected
with a chuckle that was devoid of humor.
“Hey Clay. I’m sorry about earlier I was just worried she might have seen
something and-” normally a fair hand would be used. A promise that it would not
matter so long as some act of playful intent were to be used. This was not a
time he felt for it, however he felt a return of the void even less.
“Don’t worry about it, Jeff its ok. I’ll tell you what though, you can make it
up to me?” his tone took on a velvet tone at the end. A slight rumble that was
sure to resonate in the other’s ear in the perfect way that got the athlete
whirled up.
“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” it wasn’t a question more of an ask for permission.
The baseball game would go on later tonight but not for several more hours.
Enough to have their fun and quite possibly fatigue Jeff for the night. Now
that would be fun to see.
“Well I’m all alone and just got out of a bath,” Clay looked around trying to
find something to extend the fantasy and finally landed on his clothing, “I’m
in nothing more than a hoodie, and I’m in dire need of a warm up.” the last
part is a purr as much as it is a truth. The heat had been sapped from his
body, all forms of it. It would need to be replaced and Jeff always did seem to
run warmer than everyone else.
“Be right there,” and the phone clicked dead. Clay grinning to himself as he
pulled on his boxers and let the tub slowly drain.
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