'You know where to find me then.'
Dave hadn't even signed the letter but Clay knew it was him; the paper was a light baby pink, and the envelope itself an incredibly bright white, its seal of a fine crimson wax with the pattern of a pig's snout stamped into it. It was beautiful and delicately done. Dave's penmanship was far better than Clay's, that was for sure.
Clay felt his body unconsciously slow its pace as he got closer to the large portal leading to the region in which Dave resided. He was nervous—justifiably so—considering who he was about to go see. Clay would've prayed to not let it impact his performance but prayer didn't seem to do him any good recently. Begrudgingly, Clay forced himself through the plasma, coming out on the other side to a much quieter, small
town full of Tudor style buildings packed tightly together. It was rather odd, since there was still modern commodities like cars and vending machines, but the overall aesthetic of the place was much older. It was no secret that Dave lived on the northern most hill, so that's the direction Clay began walking in.
It was tough to believe such a violent man was surrounded by such peace.
Along the way he asked for directions, making his journey to the northern gate much, much faster. Beyond the metal bars, a quaint landscape of rolling hills and tall grass went as far as the eye could see, Dave's giant home sat atop the tallest hill, all of its chimneys puffing out heaps of gray, cloudy smoke.
It was a refreshing change from the crowded, loud inner-city that Clay lived in. Atop the largest hill was a gigantic manor, obviously Dave's. Clay's jaw dropped and he just stood there for a moment, staring at it. Furthermore, there were zero power lines in sight; they must've been underground then, right?
"Ah! Are you Clay?" a man by the gate asked, the reins of a horse tight in his hands.
"Yeah-"
"Lord Brauner instructed me to wait for you so you'd have a mode of travel to the manor, please," he beckoned to the horse at his side, handing the leather straps over to Clay.
Clay knew Dave did a lot of things in a more traditional way but he didn't think horses were a part of his daily life; somehow, it didn't surprise Clay though. It was a very Techno thing to do. Clay hoisted himself up into the saddle, sitting up as straight as he could. It'd been a long time since he had to ride a horse, his only experience being in events, but he remembered the necessary basics. Clay gently tugged the reins back and the horse broke off into a light trot down the rock path; it was either barely used or highly well taken care of based on its appearance. Clay was genuinely unsure which was the correct answer.
Clay never had the horse fully gallop—that would mean arriving faster. The closer Dave's residence got, the stranger the feeling in Clay's gut became. It was beautiful, though—Clay thought so. Around halfway down the path to it small bushes began, slowly trailing into more and more white lilies growing everywhere around the place. Short, stout trees were dotted around as well, getting taller the closer they were to the giant building. Everything still looked brand new, like it was just built yesterday. The front entrance was in full few now, a large slab of concrete surrounded by greenery leading up to the steps to the monstrous front door. A small fountain was in the center, a few birds resting on the lip of its lowest tier.
Dave was already waiting at the top of the steps, without his crown, shockingly.
"You can just tie its reins to the base of the railing," Dave informed.
Clay nodded, dismounting and doing as he was told, "What if it storms?"
"Servants will take it over to the stables where it'll be safe. Come inside."
Dave pushed open the grand, rich brown doors and stood off to the side, beckoning Clay inside. He looked around the place in bewilderment, slowly walking into the middle of the main entrance hall. The stereotypical double, curved staircase and big, fancy chandelier combo he'd seen in so many movies was a reality here. Servants could be seen hurriedly walking down halls and a few cleaning the windows in the room. The doors loudly shut, sealed tight.
"You look like a kid in a candy store," Dave grinned.
Clay scoffed, "Excuse me for not having the luxury of growing up like a Disney prince," he rolled his eyes.
Dave's eyes showed nothing, "I wa-"
"Dream!" Tommy interrupted, running down the left wing hall, "Hey!!"
Dave sighed, "Phil's runnin' a bit late, he'll come and bring Tommy back home soon; it might end up bein' Wil, though," he explained.
"Hey, Tommy," Clay smiled, waving to the boy.
"Can I... Can I shake your hand?" Tommy asked shyly.
"Wha-a-at?" Clay laughed, "Yeah, obviously."
Tommy urgently snatched Clay's right hand and excitedly waved it up and down for a few seconds, raturning hie arms to hie sides, still smiling wide "With you on our team there's no we can lose the championship! You were basically our only competition and now you're with us!" Tommy said.
"I'm, uh... glad I could be a part of it."
"Tommy, let us chat for a sec," Dave patted the boy's shoulder.
"Oh, alright..." Tommy mumbled, watching Dave guide Clay upstairs.
"I have some conditions," Dave muttered as he shut and locked the door behind them.
Clay's heart instantly began beating faster, different ideas of what could happen in these circumstances flooding Clay's thoughts, some more pleasant than others and a few a little bit too pleasant. Clay blushed, trying to calm himself down as Dave further explained.
The pig removed his red cape, folding it neatly and placing it in the large, leather chair at his desk, which he sat up on instead.
"You're on my team; remember that. You listen to me, do what I say, and you have your authority over what you're specialized in and that's the extent of it.
"What happens if I disobey then?" Clay asked without thinking, quickly raising a palm to his mouth.
Dave glared at him, standing up and backing him up against the door, caging him in place with his arms against either side of his shoulders; Dave had to bend down just to be at the right level. He roughly grabbed Clay's face, bringing them so close together Clay could feel every breath Dave took.
"You won't like what happens, Dream," Dave said lowly against Clay's ear.
Clay shivered, still trying to keep up a strong persona, "Did you just invite me over to threaten me?"
"You're the one who only came to get fucked."
"I-I did not!"
"I'm not a fool, Smiley. And you're not gettin' what you want," Dave said as he walked back to his desk, "At least, not for right now," he smirked.
Clay perked up at that, taking a small step forward.
"That got your attention, didn't it? If someone wants something from me then I make them earn it. You're no exception."
"So, I just... cooperate during the championship?"
Dave nodded, "Yes. That's all."
"And if I do that, you'll..." Clay trailed off.
"I'll...?"
Dave would make Clay finish that sentence if it was the last words he ever spoke.
Clay blushed, leaning against the door once more, his hands fiddling with the knob, "U-Um..."
"Just say it. It's only us in here. Nobody's listenin' but me," Dave pressured tauntingly.
Clay shakily exhaled, staring at the floor. Just them. In Dave's office. Alone. Oh, the sinful things he'd ask for if he only had the courage to speak up about it.
"You'll..." Clay gulped, taking a deep breath in, "You'll fuck me after, as long as I do everything right?" Clay rushed the words out, quiet as a mouse.
"That's the deal. See, it wasn't that hard, was it?" Dave cooed, "We're havin' lunch soon, if you're willin' to stay and wait just a little while. My servants make the best meals, so it'd be sad if you missed the chance for a taste."
'I just wanna taste you, you fuckhead,' Clay thought.
"Sure, I'll stay. It's not like I have friends anymore to make plans with," Clay said with an annoyed, passive-aggressive tongue.
Clay stiffened as Dave walked towards him again, this time looming over him to unlock and open the door behind him.
"Come on, then."
Clay silently sighed in relief, following Dave downstairs into the primary dining hall—the much larger one used for more special occasions, but Dave enjoyed using it for average things like a casual lunch sometimes.
"So, your last name's Brauner?" Clay asked.
"Yeah, it is; why? You want it?" Dave teased as he reached for Clay's left hand.
The man snatched his hand away, "S-Stop doing that!" Clay barked, his cheeks hot.
"What?"
"Flirting!" Clay exclaimed, "And... teasing me," he mumbled, glancing away.
Dave wrapped his arm over Clay's shoulder, pushing their bodies close together as they walked towards the dining hall, "But it's fun. You've gotta like it at least a little bit... I know at least one part of you does."
"I hate you," Clay grumbled.
"Me too."
Dave grinned, pulling out a chair at the long table for Clay. He sighed and sat, letting Dave push him in. The pig sat beside him and waved over one of his servants who was passing by.
"Bring Tommy here so he can eat with us."
"Yes, my Lord!" they replied swiftly, marching out of the room.
Dave hummed quietly as he waited, a few more servants coming and going through the room, setting out dishes and silverware—which were all a shiny, glittery gold.
"I'm here! Uh—we're here!"
Tommy came with Wilbur at his side, both of them sitting across from Dave and Clay.
"Ah, so you were comin' instead, after all," Dave said.
"I see you've replaced me," Wilbur joked, smiling at Clay, "No hard feelings though. How'd Techno end up getting you of all people, huh?" Wil rested his chin in his palm.
"I'm going through a rough patch with George and Sapnap right now but I still want to play. Your team had an available spot since you won't be able to make it."
"You'll crush the game, dude," Wilbur uttered, "I don't even know how they're allowing this team."
"Once," Dave said.
All four chuckled as their meals were finally in front of them along with a large pitcher full of cold, raspberry lemonade between them all.
"This literally feels like a fucking storybook," Clay commented.
Tommy and Wilbur both laughed, unfazed by it all at this point.
"You get used to it," Wilbur said.
Tommy hummed, "It's super cool, I always love coming over—I never have to do anything."
"Hey, Phil said no being a lazy ass," Wilbur lightly elbowed the blonde.
"I'm not! Not at home, at least. I'm allowed to be lazy here! You're lazy here, too" Tommy muttered.
"I really need to get the baby home for nap time," Wilbur sighed.
Dave snorted, "Please."
"Hey!! Rude," Tommy grumbled, crossing his arms.
Listening in on and being part of their conversations gave Clay insight on a whole new side of Dave; he could laugh and smile like everyone else. Obviously, Clay had seen him do so before, but not in the same way as this. Dave, Tommy, Wilbur, and even Phil too clearly had a familial bond that Clay completely overlooked before. The way Dave rubbed Tommy's shoulder and messed up his hair, how they'd play argue and Wilbur would help bully either one depending on the topic. He felt like a bit of a fourth wheel, but he also felt strangely familiar—as if, temporarily, just for that lunch, they allowed Clay to be part of their makeshift family.
Tommy and Wilbur had both left by this point, and it was just Dave and Clay in the drawing room, sitting on the large, plush red couch and talking. Very different from how they usually were in private, now. While the topics were normal and Clay felt fine, there was still an underlying tension that refused to leave and let Clay fully relax.
"Thank you," Clay softly mumbled, "This was... actually nice. Eating lunch with you and those two, I mean. It was good to get away from my apartment."
"You live in an apartment?" Dave asked sharply, snapping his head in Clay's direction.
"Well, yeah. It's hard to find houses in that area, plus it's loud and crowded anyway, so the houses wouldn't be worth it. Everywhere else just seems too expensive, no matter how much money I'm making."
Dave nodded, "I can see that happenin' —the market has inflated recently from the swarms of new people, huh? Unfortunate."
"I should probably go back, now, actually," he sighed, "Stuff to do," Clay stood and was headed towards the front entrance.
"Oh, you don't have to take that long way again. Now that you're here I can just make a link between your place and mine," Dave explained, digging through a drawer in a credenza placed against the wall.
Out from it he took chalk, crouching down low and drawing a circle around himself with it.
"Come and stand here."
"You... know magic?" Clay inquired as he shuffled over.
"Only the useful stuff."
Dave drew a series of four small symbols equidistant around the circle, connecting them with a cross in the middle.
"Close your eyes and just think about your apartment, okay?"
Clay did as instructed, feeling the temperature change. Dave didn't tell him to, but he instinctively opened his eyes, finding himself back in his living room. He spun around, looking to see if anything was different and maybe this was just a trick. He was back home; he was certain.
What an odd day.
It was only when he took a shower before bed that he noticed the tiny pig's snout emblem on his own flesh, the same as on the wax seal of Dave's letter. It was very tiny, on the outer side of his wrist, just a thin outline in a small circle in black. He didn't know what it meant, but he was pissed anyway. Surely, if it's from Dave, it's not a good sign, right? Did taking that shortcut sell Clay's soul to the stupid brute?
He'd ask the next time they saw each other.