Clay was currently going up to Dave's bedroom to tell him where he'd be—which was Nick's house. He just needed to talk about everything that was going on and he also just wanted to spend some time with his friend in general. He had been over there the previous week, but there wasn't a whole lot to say at the time.
It was still pretty early, and he didn't see Dave downstairs at all or in his office, so Clay assumed this was one of the so called "lazy days" Dave had occasionally. He knocked as softly as he could on the sturdy wood door, slowly pushing it open.
'That's weird, he's not here either?"
He opened the door wider, planting a single foot into the room and just staring at it. Clay gasped as he was pushed inside, hearing the door click shut. He whipped around, facing Dave's chest.
"What do you think you're doin', huh, Smiley?" Dave murmured quietly, barely touching Clay's hips.
Clay shivered, looking up, "I-I was just gonna tell you that I'm going to Nick's to hang out for a little while. I didn't see you downstairs or where you normally are so I thought you'd be in here," he quickly explained.
"I assumed as much," Dave said as he brought Clay's chin up and tilted his head to the side, "You sure you don't wanna cover our mess up before you go?"
"Mess...?" Clay mumbled before his eyes widened with realization.
Dave smirked, "I'd prefer if you didn't, but I figured you'd want to."
Clay blushed, "I don't have anything to cover them so I guess it doesn't really matter."
"Sure you do. Hold on," Dave said, leaving the room.
It wasn't long before he returned, a small stick of concealer in hand.
"This wasn't exactly my shade but I think it'll match you, if you want to use it."
"Oh," Clay hesitantly took it, "Thanks... Why do you have this?"
"Unimportant."
"Anyway," Clay stepped back from Dave's grasp, "I won't be gone for too long. I just thought you'd wanna know."
Dave hummed, "I appreciate it."
~~~~
"Clay!" Nick beamed, giving the other man a quick hug before letting him inside, "How's living with Techno been?"
"It's been, uh... insightful. Eventful," Clay chuckled quietly, rubbing his neck and hoping he didn't rub the makeup off; the last thing he needed was to display the array of hickeys he acquired, even if he knew Nick wouldn't care.
"I see you've had a costume change," Nick eyed his outfit, "You definitely look like you'd live with him now."
Clay quietly sighed as he plopped down onto the couch, "Yeah, I figured I was gonna wear my old stuff whenever I went out, but these honestly are pretty fun to wear, I won't lie. I guess I assumed it'd be on Techno's more extravagant side of the spectrum but there's casual stuff."
"Let's hurry up to the interesting parts," Nick waved his hand, "What's Techno like?"
"He's still not quite himself around me but he's nice. Techno becomes, like, this cool big brother figure whenever Tommy's around—it's kind of cute. You kind of forget that he's known for the championships and all those events; he acts like anybody else—well, aside from the narcissism and that kind of stuff. He's definitely nice to his servants though, one of the maids told me all about that."
"I always thought he'd be a big softie," Nick grinned, "cause he's built like a bear, y'know?" Nick suddenly gasped, "Have you hugged him?! Does he give good hugs?!"
Clay laughed, "Yeah, I guess so? He's really warm."
"Are you suuure you don't like Techno? 'Cause everything you're saying he is makes him sound pretty compatible with you~," Nick sang teasingly.
"Yes, I'm sure," Clay rolled his eyes, "If there's one big bonus I hadn't really thought about it's the food—God, all of it is so good. I know he's not an actual king but he fucking eats like one."
"Don't rub your new privilege in my face," Nick joked, "You think he'd let me come over, anyway?"
"I don't see why not, he basically said there's nothing that I can't have, so I don't think he'd tell me I couldn't invite you over."
Nick hid a smirk with his hand, "He's simping for you?"
Clay blushed, "N-No, he's not simping!" he spluttered.
"Hey," Clay sat up properly again, "has George said anything else to you since last time?"
"Ooh, yeah...." Nick paused, "Well, after a while George said he didn't mean what he said to you but he wasn't sure how to come to you about it and apologize. He kept backing out every time he said he was going to talk to you."
"...He still likes you," Nick added quietly.
Clay sighed, holding his face in his hands, "God, and we're still gonna have to film Manhunt together! All the camera crew and producers and everybody are gonna feel so awkward because of us both. What do I even say to him when I get there? 'Hey! Sorry I crushed your feelings and all hope of us getting together by fucking some random giant that I live with now, but it's all past us, right?' God!" Clay groaned.
"Let's go back to talking about the other stuff," Nick swiftly changed the subject, "You shouldn't be worrying about George so much, it's not good for you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Clay mumbled back.
Clay's visit lasted slightly longer than intended, but not by a great deal. After telling Nick a little more about Dave and what it was like living in such a different space, they moved onto their usual stupid conversations that still left Clay chuckling as he arrived back at the manor. Clay stretched his arms over his head, glancing around and hearing nothing around him; where was Dave?
Much like earlier, the library didn't yield many results, but before Clay could waste time looking upstairs in Dave's office he noticed a servant hurrying toward one of the halls which led outside, carrying a big thermos with them.
"Hey, are you bringing that to Techno?"
"Y-Yes sir!"
"Where is he? I'll bring it to him," Clay said, reaching for the bottle.
"Outside at the East Wing's overhang—training."
'Again?' Clay thought, internally sighing, 'He's gonna kill himself.'
"Thanks!" Clay chimed and waved shortly before making his way outside and across to the right side of the house.
The eastern side of the manor had a large porch outside with columns running up to a short gabled roof, a pathway at the end of it circling back around the rest of the outdoor space. Clay could already see the outline of Dave ducking and running around the large space, swinging his sword wildly. Whoever he was fighting wasn't someone Clay knew; they were nearly as tall as Dave himself. Dave also wasn't using an elegant Rapier like with Tommy, he had his longsword. Clay picked up his pace and the scene came more into focus, revealing that what Dave was fighting wasn't even a person at all.
A fully black figure, fuzzy at its edges with seemingly no real sharp outlines, fading into its surroundings and looking like a hole punctured through reality. Dave was drenched in sweat like he'd been fighting the thing for forever.
"Techno!" Clay called as he ran over, staying back closer to the doors which led back inside.
Dave gave him a glance but that was all he could offer, preoccupied with defeating whatever in Hell he was training against. Clay marveled at the man's reflexes as Dave swiftly evaded attacks by mere millimeters, waiting carefully to strike at the right moment. An opening finally appeared as the frightful creature readied itself for a large strike, only to have Dave's sword thrust through its gut; having leaned back in preparation for its next move it exposed its abdomen perfectly in the process.
Dave ripped the blade back out, taking a few tired steps away from the thing as it slowly melted into the floor, reaching its hand up before it was reduced to a mere puddle, already turning to steam as it evaporated into nothing. With one final huff, Dave turned around to see Clay starting to walk to him. They met in the middle, walking back to the steps together.
"I-I have your water," Clay held it out to him.
Dave thanked him quietly and gently took the thermos out of Clay's hand, abruptly sitting down on the stone steps. Clay sat beside him, looking over the man loudly gulping down water. Clay stopped breathing entirely for a second, staring at Dave's throat as it moved while he drank. Clay looked down at the ground as he pulled on the neckline of his shirt, taking a deep breath in to make up for the lost oxygen. Not looking didn't really make much of a difference though, as Clay could still hear every time Dave swallowed, finishing his drink with a long sigh.
"What're you starin' at?" Dave asked.
Clay looked away again, "Nothing."
Dave set the thermos beside him on the step, sweeping back his messy hair, "God, that was awful. I've been slackin' lately," he brought his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face.
"What was that thing? It seemed like it knew all your moves," Clay questioned.
"A trainin' dummy, basically—although they're definitely not dumb. I summon them with magic, it's one of the more complicated arts I've learned."
"Are they... alive?" Clay hushed out.
"Somewhere, they are. Not here."
'Because that's not an ominous reply,' Clay thought, examining Dave's longsword as he picked it up from theground.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you use this. I only ever saw it on TV, though."
Dave raised his brows in surprise, "You watched my old games?"
"Yeah, I did. You've come a long way from Skywars and Bedwars on the Hypixel Network. Their ratings have still been going up though."
"Didn't expect to end up like this when you watched teenage me stab people for money up on the screen, did ya?"
"Not mad about it though."
"So," Dave put his hand on Clay's thigh, squeezing lightly, "how was your time with Nick?"
Clay stiffened, staring at Dave's pale hand, "I-It was good. I'm glad he's so understanding of me... I've made some pretty stupid decisions and he's always there—should have him over sometime, I think you'd get along."
"Maybe. Anyway, they delayed the next championship to the end of next month."
"What? Why?"
"They wouldn't say—believe me, I tried to persuade 'em. To me that just means more time to train."
Clay scoffed, "It's the end of next month. So why not just relax the rest of this month? We'd still have plenty of time to practice."
Dave grinned smugly, "We?"
"Yeah, why not? Doesn't matter if we're not on the same team. And I seriously think you could use some time off," Clay pulled Dave's hand off his thigh, rolling his sleeve up the rest of the way, "just look at yourself."
Dave's arm was covered in bruises and marks from constantly training, always doing something that ended up with him getting hurt.
"I'm fine, it's not a big deal. I've been quite literally stabbed before, I think I know my own limits."
"Do you know your limit? Or are you just pushing yourself as hard as you can because you can?"
"Little bit'a both," Dave chuckled, starting to stand back up, "God, I need to eat," he droned.
"I'm not letting you train tomorrow," Clay asserted, "I don't care what I have to do to make you take the day off," he said as they walked inside together.
"I don't think replacin' rigorous trainin' with rigorous sex would change a whole lot, physically—be more enjoyable though."
Clay blushed and spluttered, "You know that's not what I meant!"
"You were definitely thinkin' it," Dave grinned.
~~~~
It was another sore morning for Clay, not unusual now, so he ended up sleeping in until noon. As he staggered out of bed, he hustled to get ready as he realized Dave was probably training despite Clay telling him not to, and that no maid or anyone came in to wake him up just so he couldn't try and stop Dave—not that he physically could, anyway.
Clay fled downstairs, ignoring the pain in his back and thighs which almost felt like jelly. As he came to the living room he sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat; Dave was already in there and finished training—only because he was injured. He was shirtless, with bloodied gauze around the right side of his chest, all the red coming from what was probably a gash beneath his armpit on his side. He was scarfing down food like he usually would after a long day of exercise.
"Techno, this is exactly why I told you to take a break—you're tiring yourself out and it's not helping you to over-train," Clay huffed, sitting beside him on the couch.
"It doesn't help to under-train either," Dave retorted.
Clay rolled his eyes, "As if you could ever under-train if you tried. Let me see it," he demanded, lightly touching the gauze.
Dave gently peeled it up, showing a rather small but fresh, deep gash underneath it.
"And now it can join all the other scars," Dave joked.
Clay frowned, "You wouldn't have as many if you stopped doing this to yourself," he murmured softly, inspecting the stitches.
"It's what I've become accustomed to," Dave said quietly as he finished his last plate.
"Who did these sutures?"
"There's a few women here who used to be nurses," Dave said with a yawn.
Clay taped the gauze back in place, "Lay down," he ordered quietly.
Dave gave him a look, which was quickly reciprocated. Dave put his hands up into the air and slowly leaned back across the sofa.
"Alright, alright, geez. Dunno what you want me to do... this for..." he slowed as Clay laid down too and snuggled into him, securing his arms around Dave's waist as he shoved his face into the boar's chest.
"You're obviously tired and so am I, so take a nap with me. No training tomorrow, I mean it."
Dave sighed out his nose, "Alright, fine, you got me—are you happy?" he grumbled.
"Yeah, actually, I am," Clay said with a satisfied smile.
They laid there together silently, basking in one another's warmth and presence. Clay would never tell Dave—it would inflate his already giant ego far too much—but he really liked being held by the man. Strong, built up arms and a firm, trustworthy hold; everybody could appreciate that. Clay traced his fingers along the scars on the pig's chest and biceps and shoulders, wondering how they may have gotten there and what Dave might've done.
"Ya havin' fun there?" Dave chuckled quietly.
Clay smirked, "Lots."
The blonde looked to his wrist, following the rope burn to the little pig insignia on it. He was used to it now, but he still wanted a full explanation for why it was there and what purpose it really served. Dave's short excuse from before of there being a seal over the manor wasn't enough, not for Clay.
"What kind of seal is cast over this place?"
"Protective," Dave mumbled tiredly, petting Clay's hair, "It prevents outside spells from affecting the house or anything on the property and just makes everything easier. Plants rooted in the soil won't die, it won't burn down, you can't be poisoned—stuff like that."
"So why does it have to put a little mark on me?" Clay asked as he turned over.
"It's a conduit for the magic. All magic works better when there's a channel for it to go through," Dave paused, "I thought you said we were gonna nap, stop talkin'."
"So you are tired," Clay said smugly.
"Do you really want a repeat of last night?"
Clay blushed, "W-Well, not right now..."
"Horny bastard," Dave groaned quietly.
Clay chuckled, "You're one to talk."
Dave only hummed, keeping his eyes shut.
Dave's stroking of Clay's hair slowly came to a stop as he fell asleep. He breathed in long, even breaths, his large chest rising against Clay's back. Clay turned slightly to look at Dave, the larger man instantly tightening his arms around Clay and sighing quietly in his slumber. Clay thought his heart stopped for a second, carefully and even more slowly turning the rest of the way over.
Clay gradually brought his hand up to Dave's face, his shaking fingers hovering anxiously over the man's delicate skin. Despite having so many scars littering virtually his whole body, his face was void of any imperfections. He was tempted—again—to touch his ears, but didn't want to wake him up. Suddenly, Dave's brows narrowed as stress lines crinkled in his forehead and his nose scrunched.
'He's dreaming?' Clay asked himself.
Clay finally decided to just place his hand onto Dave's cheek, watching his face twitch a few more times before finally relaxing again. As Clay got a closer inspection on Dave's face, he realized Dave had bags under his eyes that weren't normally visible.
'That's why he has concealer.'
He huffed through his nose, lightly tracing his thumb across Dave's cheekbone, wondering to himself.
'What aren't you telling me?'
'And why?'