We've kissed before, a lot, but this one feels different, tentative. The context of... this, is shifting, and I hope Clay feels it too.
Clay hums into my mouth, pleased, and lifts a hand to my waist, slowly dragging it up my back. I break the kiss to breathe. I pull back and look at his face, seeing him completely relaxed, almost vulnerable. I take a second to readjust, planting one hand to his stomach, and lean back in.
Maybe it's just because it's dark out, or just because i've been up so long, but I feel brave. I let my kiss go deeper, nipping at Clay's lip, and swiping my tongue into his mouth. He smiles and moans into it, encouraging me and leaning back.
I follow, nearly crawling on top of him to push the kiss as deep as it'll go without me literally crawling onto him. Clay's hand tightens on my back, and I find myself returning his moan into his mouth. I quickly realize I have to pull out of this kiss or I am going to physically mount him.
I plant my hand firm on his chest and push back, breaking the kiss. Clay makes a small noise of protest and immediately chases, hand darting up to grab my neck and tug me back down into another heated kiss. I whimper and breathe into it, not strong enough to stop moving against his lips.
I barely tug myself back again, only for a second. "Clay—" Another kiss.
"Clay ju—" Another kiss. I moan this time.
"Wait one s—" Clay bites my lip this time and I immediately whimper, melting.
Though, he does pull back. "What? Literally what?" He asks, voice pitched low, searching my face.
I shiver at his voice, only getting worse. "I— we— I can't kiss anymore. I'm one good lip bite away from swinging into your lap and riding you right here." I say, breathy, heat blooming on my cheeks.
It's probably a little too honest, but it's close to 5 am, and I've lost my filter.
I watch Clay's face go lax in surprise, then he swallows and clears his throat, shifting away to lay on his back again, blush obvious on his face. I have to laugh, and lean in to peck his cheek one more time before settling my head on his chest with my ear pressed over his heart.
I listen to the rhythm of it beating, then reach down for Clay's hand. I hold it with both of my hands, gently tracing the veins, splitting the fingers, and playing with it. I physically hear his heart thump when I finally thread my fingers with his and hold his hand, immediately lifting it to my face to press a kiss to his fingertips.
We've accidentally fallen into an appreciative silence, both staring at the minimal amount of night sky still visible, trying to savor this moment of closeness. It's funny to me how simple and easy having sex can be, but holding hands like this has us both frozen, scared, tender. For however much I'm afraid to make a shift, I realize he probably is too, and I'm briefly thankful we're taking our time. No matter how annoying it is.
The moment only lasts a second longer, before there's a flash of lights, and a truck towing a boat pulls into the lot. We break apart like teenagers caught necking, sitting up, squinting awkwardly.
I hear the crunch of gravel before I see two older looking men hop out, one immediately addressing us. "Good morning for some fishing!" He calls out, and I have to turn to hide my laugh in Clay's shoulder.
"Yep." Clay responds for us, and for that I'm thankful, though, I have to fight another laugh at how awkward it is.
"What're you kids doing out here at five am?" The man asks.
So it is 5am then... oops.
"Just— watching the stars, sir." I respond, then feel Clay turn to hide a laugh in my hair, probably because I'm a suck up. This guy definitely thinks we're teenagers that snuck out or something. Though, I don't blame him, we're acting like it.
He hums, and looks up. "Not many stars left to watch." He says, like he's caught us.
"Yeah!" I call out, "We were about to leave." I say, then tug Clay's shirt, informing him that it's time to dip.
We both hop off the hood and make our way toward our respective sides of the car.
"You kids get home safe!" The man calls, and Clay responds with a tight-lipped awkward smile and a wave.
The second we're in the car my head drops and I dissolve into wheezing laughter.
"Stop. We're still—" Clay starts, fighting a laugh of his own. "C'mon, just, wait until we're on the road."
I shake my head, laughing hard enough it's gone silent, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes. "I can't— I can't—"
I hear Clay laugh, then swear, then laugh again. He starts the car and nearly peels out.
"Let's go— let's—" I start, trying to joke, but it devolves into me just laughing. It's not even funny. I'm just sleep-deprived.
"Let's go to a park and—" I have to exhale to steady myself, "Make out in the backseat until someone calls the cops on us." I say, joking about getting 'busted'.
Clay sighs first, then ends up laughing back at me, rolling his eyes. "We're not doing that." He chastises, looking a little grumpier than expected.
He leans over to place a hand on my thigh, just barely moving his thumb against the skin, and my laugh dies off. Suddenly, I'm silent again, head vacant of any thoughts except 'Clay hand. On me. Feel good.'.
God, I'm really tired.
I manage to collect myself enough to place my hand on top of his. I curl my entire hand around his index and middle fingers and just hold. There's... a tension, and I know Clay has something to say.
"What?" I ask, only because I'm too tired to stop myself.
Clay opens his mouth, but hesitates before finally speaking. "I think... I think we need to have a talk."
I feel my stomach drop. Maybe I've been pushing shit too far on my own and never even realized. I shift nervously in my seat. "Okay... then let's talk." I manage to steady myself enough to say.
He shoots me a glance, then tightens his grip on my thigh, like if he lets go I'll float away. "Sorry. I don't mean to be a killjoy." He says, then sighs. "I know we have this whole weekend still, but it sounds like we're not going to get to see each other for like... a month after this."
Clay starts bouncing his leg nervously, and I feel my free hand tense, fingers twitching to pick. "How are we navigating that? The month, I mean?" He asks.
I don't know if it's just my exhaustion, or if I'm just stupid, but I have no clue what he means. "What— like, what do you mean?" I ask, blinking.
He sighs again, squeezing my thigh hard enough it hurts for a moment. "I dunno. Are you talking to anyone else?" He asks, cautious.
Ah. I see.
"If you're asking if I'm going to sleep with someone else while I can't see you, the answer is no, I'm not. But if you're asking to sleep with someone else... I guess... you can do whatever and whoever you want. That's your choice." I say, effectively hurting myself and pulling away, brushing his hand off.
Clay makes a small stressed noise. "I'm not asking that. I'm asking for the opposite." He says.
I tilt my face back toward him, still a little lost, plastered to my door. "Clarify."
Clay tenses both hands on the wheel, jaw ticking. "You wanna label this exclusive? Not— dating yet but. I dunno." His leg bounces again. "I don't want to sleep with anyone else and I definitely don't want you to." He says, a little quieter.
A smile spreads on my face, even if it's a little annoying. "Yeah. That'd... I'd like that a lot." I say, still leaning away from him.
Clay finally looks at me again, face relieved. "Okay then." He looks again and shoots out to grab at me. "Now get the fuck back over here."
I yelp and laugh, following easily enough, settling with my head on his shoulder, his hand planted back on my thigh. We stay like that for most of the rest of the drive home, slowly mellowing out as the all-nighter catches up on us.
We barely get home before 6 am and shuffle inside together, going straight up into his room and collapsing on his bed. I immediately get light-headed, and blink heavily.
"Oh shit." I groan, blinking and trying to settle.
Clay grumbles, still fully dressed, like an idiot, but working on it. He's next to me in the bed, thrashing, fighting to get his hoodie off. I laugh at him, finding it much funnier than I should, devolving into a laugh where I have to gasp for air.
"What?" He bites out, muffled from inside of his hoodie and I snort.
"Stop— Clay I can't— hhhhhhh—" I choke out.
Clay finally gets it off, banging his head on his headboard in the process. He groans, now fully grumpy, as I only get worse. I'm even more light-headed from laughing. I slap out at him, wheezing a laugh.
Clay grunts and rolls over to grab me, the second he's recovered from thumping his head. He plants one hand on my waist, the other covering my mouth to get me to be quiet. I immediately part my lips and lick at his palm, giggling into his hand.
"Stop laughing. I don't want you to piss yourself. I just washed the sheets from what you did earlier." He grumbles.
I immediately lift my brows, both of my hands coming up to pull his hand off of my mouth. "That's rich coming from you, pissbaby."
Clay deadpans. "Pop off, I guess."
Ooh, he's grumpy. He started it. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt your fee-fees?" I ask, antagonizing him further, sleep-addled brain not quite caught up.
Clay drops his hand to grip my jaw and tilt my face up, forcing me to look at him as I just keep grinning, barely not cackling. He looks angry for just a second, then his lips just barely twitch.
"Keep being an asshole. I'll piss the bed right now as punishment." He says, still deadpan.
I immediately burst into laughter, hard enough that I go light-headed again. It's hard enough that my stomach hurts.
"I feel like I'm fucking high—" I gasp out, between desperately drawn-in breaths, just trying to get oxygen back in my brain.
Clay grunts, voice still deadpan, even though he's grinning now. "Oh yeah. Classic you. Always high."
I blink in surprise, barely catching my breath enough to speak. "Woah, woah, what's this about?"
Clay shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "You don't— you hate drugs."
"Says... who?" I ask, slowly, matching his energy.
He protests immediately. "Says you. You always used to freak out when we were in high school and— YOU! You literally ignored me for a week that time I smoked when you were over!"
I'm annoyed.
"Keywords: when we were in high school." I fold my arms and pout, bright mood significantly dampened.
He's not like... wrong or anything. I used to be very uncomfortable with it. But that was more of a 'my parents will end my life' thing than a 'I don't like this' thing. I guess one of the problems of knowing someone forever is forgetting that they can change. Still, he's only acting like this because he randomly got grumpy.
"Sorry for assuming. But you used to be vehemently against it. So, I don't buy it." Clay says, shaking his head and huffing.
"Why are you getting so tilted over this?" I roll my eyes and turn away from him. "Okay big man. Fine. You're so cool and I'm so lame."
Clay makes a noise and grabs me again, pulling me back to him, then leaning over me. "That's not what I meant." He says, voice low, glaring down at me.
I sigh, and despite my mood, let myself relax. I lift to press a kiss to Clay's chin to soothe him. "I'll smoke with you if you baseball it to me. That might improve this mood you're in as well." I say, barely not rolling my eyes, poking his chest.
The being up for 24 hours thing is taking its toll, on both of us.
Clay blinks at me, briefly looking surprised and excited, considering for a second. "I'll hold you to that. Tomorrow. I'm about to pass out." He says, finally calmed down, then flops over, settling to the mattress at my side with his arm slung over my stomach.
I'm confused. "Aren't you busy? Like all day?"
He hums. "Nah. I'll be done by like 8 or 9. Plenty of time." His hand drags up my side, then idly gropes my breast. It makes my breath hitch, though I think he's just settling in.
I decide to just ignore it. I turn in his hold, into his chest, and squirm my way up until I can whisper in his ear.
"Ah, jeans. Perfect for sleep." I whisper.
Clay immediately groans and retracts his hand before turning to his back, drowsily pawing at his still-on jeans. I laugh and shoot my hand down to help, noting how much more conscious I am than him. I shake my head, endeared at the sleepy noises he's making, then I pop the button open for him. In the low light I try to find his fly, and end up just accidentally palming him over his jeans.
Clay's hand immediately comes up to grip my wrist, stilling my movement. I look up, frozen, and see his eyes are definitely open now.
I laugh nervously, face heating. "Sorry I— I was just trying to help." I say, retracting my hand. I didn't really think about the risks involved in what I was doing.
I swallow as his eyes stay locked on me, slowly blinking, like he's trying to wake up, then he finally releases my wrist and lifts his hips, getting out of his jeans.
I'm warm now, humor, anger, and drowsiness all pushed to the side in favor of heat blooming across my skin. Clay slowly smiles, somehow attuned to knowing exactly how I feel.
I get dragged into Clay's chest, with his arms tight around me, and settle there, trying to steady my breathing, not sure what's happening. After a tense moment, he relaxes under me.
"I'm so tired." He mumbles. "But just know that I'll dream about acting on what just happened." He says. I look up and see his loopy smile and closed eyes and shake my head.
"You're dumb." I say back. Though, what I mean is: I like you, I'll dream the same thing.
I let myself relax too, closing my eyes, leaning into my exhaustion.