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It starts, as it usually does in this town, because of Orel. He comes back from his mandatory time with his mother at her house, where she lives with Roger Papermouth and occasionally his daughter when she isn't with his ex-wife, immediately frantically obsessing about something. Which is nothing new when it comes to Orel.
That's how it usually is with his son and Clay is perfectly capable of handling it, thank you very much. There was a time where he dreaded having to see Orel but it's been getting easier after the divorce. It helps that Clay now has the option to just dump him on his father's doorstep when he can't deal with him. His old man made it clear that he doesn't mind.
Clay is drinking his coffee and minding his business and doing a fantastic job of ignoring the casual, yet overly excited way in which Orel attempts to breach the new topic he's interested in. With Orel, it's usually a particular passage of the Bible or something Reverend Putty said in one of his sermons. Nothing bad, at least not in theory.
Well, it never starts as anything bad but that changes quickly whenever his son is involved. He might just be talking about it now but soon he could be out there trying to put his ideas to work in the worst way possible, whether that be buying and smoking crack to help the "poor" or selling people his pee. Clay shudders just to think about it.
This time it seems to be something he came up with. That can only mean trouble and Clay does his best to not entertain whatever's on his son's mind, even not knowing what he's thinking. He knows that it's bad, it has to be coming from Orel. So he tries his best to avoid it, lest the whole town decides to blame him for the boy's actions again.
Unfortunately for him, Orel isn't letting it go anytime soon. No amount of lack of interest in his part is enough to get him to take the hint that they shouldn't be talking about whatever he keeps trying to get at. Orel can be so persistent sometimes. If he wasn't too old for it, Clay would consider having a little "talk" with him in his study.
But, alas, he stopped that when Orel was thirteen. Not only because asking him to drop his pants so he could spank him got awkward the older he got but also because his dad insisted he just talk to him. Usually Clay wouldn't listen to anything the man said but he did help a lot during the divorce and he watched over Orel more than Clay did.
So he decided to listen to him and took the spanking out of the lecturing and spanking, which didn't necessarily make things magically better. Orel still takes his ideas too far when he gets them, he still doesn't seem to be able to just get advice from someone and interpret it the correct way. But he has been less destructive lately.
Which means sooner or later Clay will have to deal with whatever's on his mind right now so it's best if he just gets it over with. So Clay takes a deep breath and prepares for whatever he's about to deal with this time.
"Alright," he says, finally engaging in the conversation. "Spit it out."
Orel has the gall to act confused, like he hasn't been trying to subtly hint at this new obsession of his like he always does. And his son is as subtle as a brick.
"Gosh, dad. What do you mean?"
Clay narrows his gaze at him, "The thing. Your thing. Whatever it is this week. It's always something with you. Just spit it out already."
Orel opens his mouth like he's about to protest but he only sighs instead, giving Clay a determined look.
"Dad, I want a sibling."
Clay blinks at him, his mind trying to comprehend why on earth he'd ask for something like that. He thinks back on anything Reverend Putty said lately that could have prompted this but he usually lets his mind wander when he's in church. It's hard to keep track of everything being said, don't blame him. It's all the same, either way.
"You have Shapey," Clay offers as a rebuttal. "That's a sibling. A half sibling but still."
Shapey's with Bloberta full-time now, which means he might as well be alone. Clay knows that Roger likes taking him out to teach him and his daughter incredibly basic things that any child should know. Like how to fire a gun. Clay can't even remember the last time he saw the kid and, honestly? He'd like to keep it that way.
He doesn't blame Orel for wanting a different sibling, a better one. Maybe one that doesn't scream so much. Still, he can't help but find it weird. He knows he most certainly would not want a little sister or brother running around and stealing his mom's attention from him as a child. So why does Orel? It's not like it was any fun taking care of Shapey.
But honestly, why does Orel do anything, really?
"But Shapey's different," Orel declares. "I want another one. A little sister would be good this time."
Clay shudders to even think about it. A girl with his and Bloberta's genes? Well, of course now that they're divorced if Orel wants a sibling he better be ready for it not being Clay's child. He's not fertilizing anymore of that woman's eggs. In fact, it makes no sense that he's telling Clay this and not Bloberta. She's the one with the oven.
"And why in God's name are you telling me this instead of your mother?"
Orel beams at him, "That's the thing, dad. Mom said she's done having kids. She told me if I wanted a sibling, I'd have to pray for a miracle."
Clay laughs at that. Bloberta getting knocked up again being referred to as a miracle rather than a fatal mistake. It has to be a joke.
"Well, are you gonna pray that your mother's very much not virgin womb miraculously grows another baby against her wishes?" he mocks.
"Golly, pop. That's not it at all. Mom says she's done having kids."
Clay takes a sip of his coffee, wondering why they have to sit here in the middle of breakfast and talk about something as revolting as Bloberta possibly popping out more babies. God knows two was more than enough. If he had to deal with yet another kid to keep track of, it'd be incredibly stressing. And he's only responsible for one.
"I guess I'll just have to pray for God to make another miracle baby and give Coach Stopframe the ability to get you pregnant."
Clay spits his coffee all over the table, turning to his son with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock.
"Pray that God does what now? To make your coach do what?"
Orel doesn't seem to realize there's an issue with what he just said, he keeps looking at Clay with that same peaceful smile and serene expression on his face. Like nothing about what he just said is wrong. Like that was the most common sentence ever spoken when it should be considered a crime. Will be, if Clay has anything to say about it.
"Impregnates you," he chirps happily. "So I can have a little sister!"
Usually Clay is able to get by without having to resort to getting drunk in the first hours of the morning but God, he needs a drink right now. He can't handle this sober. Part of him knows Bloberta's somehow responsible for this, that bitter woman. She probably told their son some offhand joke that lead to them having this conversation.
He wants her dead. He needs everyone responsible for the fact that he just heard that from Orel's mouth dead. He doesn't even know what to say to this, to this absolute blasphemy of a suggestion. He's suddenly terrified by the prospect that he might have to have another "talk" with his son very soon. How can he not understand how nonsensical this is?
"Orel, you know that's impossible," he says, his voice weak as he's still processing this situation.
"But that's what miracles are for, dad! Mary was a virgin, after all."
God, he hates this. He can't handle this at all. It's too early for him to be even contemplating all of this. He needs to keep it together. So much of his life is depending on his ability to not drink as much as he used to. His court mandated time with his son, his somehow intact reputation, his relationship with Danielle. He needs to get through this.
No drinking, no hiding, no running. Those are the rules he made up for himself and he intends on keeping himself in check. Locking himself in his study and drinking until he forgets about this conversation is all he wants to do. It's not what he needs to do. What he needs to do, unfortunately, is take this as an opportunity to lecture his son.
"Son, listen to me," he starts, hoping that sharing some wisdom will put an end to all of this before he loses his mind. "The best thing about being with a man is that there's no chance of any babies ever coming out of it. It's like a blessing from God. To show us that what we're doing may not be natural but it's sure easier to get away with."
And if a man really could get another man pregnant, which is a whole other bridge for them to cross, he would be absolutely screwed in every way. He and Danielle would likely have had at least three babies by now. Because Clay cannot stress enough how much of that man's seed ends up inside him one way or another.
Even thinking about it makes him go red. He had been so sure the first time they did it that he wouldn't want a mess to deal with, couldn't handle having to get up and shower when he usually just falls asleep as soon as he's done. But the idea of Danielle not spilling his seed inside him felt offensive. Why would he finish inside Bloberta and not him?
"But if you and Coach Stopframe managed to make a baby, that'd be like... a miracle baby!" his son cheerfully explains. "Like Jesus. And I'm sure you know this by now, dad, he's kind of a personal hero of mine."
As if he could ever forget. Even with how much he tries to spend as little time with Orel as possible, painfully aware of how easily he could mess up the kid, he knows by now that Jesus is someone he's very passionate about. That's probably why he loves the idea of a baby born of miraculous circumstances. God, this really has Bloberta written all over it.
"Where did you even get the idea that two men having a baby is anything but an abomination of god's plan? I know Reverend Putty's not teaching you that."
Reverend Putty is much more accepting of "unnatural urges" since reconnecting with his daughter. The chick with the tattoos that he's almost sure he saw the reverend flirt with once, hopefully before knowing that was his daughter. It's really no surprise that someone like her is living a sinful lifestyle. But if the reverend says it's fine, all the better.
It's convenient since it makes it harder for anyone to judge his entanglement with Danielle. They still try, of course. But Danielle has taught Clay the simple fine art of not giving a crap what other people think. If you walk around doing whatever you want, people eventually get used to it. Still, Reverend Putty doesn't shy away from making long sermons condemning homosexuality.
But unlike how this usually goes, Orel seems entirely unconcerned about what the reverend says.
"Mom said it'd be the only way for me to get a sibling."
Of course she did. She most likely meant it as a joke but even Bloberta knows how easily impressionable their kid is. His ex-wife knew damn well what she was doing, he just can't shake the feeling that she definitely wanted Orel to share her little suggestion with him when he got home. She's probably having a laugh about it now, just imagining it.
"She said that to you, huh? Of course she did. That... woman... who's also your mother and who I can't call any names you could ever repeat in front of her or else I'll look like a horrible dad."
Orel chooses to ignore that, as he does anytime Clay makes any negative comments about Bloberta and vice versa. A skill that any child of divorce should have already developed by the first year.
"Gee, dad. It'd sure be great if you could get miraculously pregnant and I could be a big brother again, huh?" Orel says, entirely indifferent to Clay's emotional turmoil.
He focuses on his coffee and tries to get that out of his mind, shaking his head as if he could physically rid himself of the thought. He tells himself that there will come a day when this will just be a funny thing Orel said once and he won't feel so weird about the whole thing. Clay hopes that day will come soon, for now all he can hope to do is forget about it.
Clay does not forget about it.
And it's not for lack of trying either. He occupies his mind with anything he can find, with that stinking dead end job he absolutely hates, with any slightly annoying thing Bloberta says or does in the rare times they're forced to interact, with Reverend Putty's sermons, phone calls with his father where they talk about nothing other than Orel, anything.
It doesn't work. He's brushing his teeth and he remembers what Orel said and physically trembles like a ghost just passed through his body. He's trying to sleep but he keeps shifting on the bed, trying to find a better position because his usual fetal position reminds him too much of, well, a fetus. Has him feeling like there's one inside him.
It becomes especially hard to forget about it when he's around Danielle. And that sucks because being with Danielle is the only thing that makes life worth it for him these days. The only part of his day that gives him joy is the part when they see each other. All of that, tainted by his son's bizarre comment. Because it's all he can think about.
It's different than it is when he's alone. When he eats something odd and thinks "this is just like when Bloberta got pregnant and kept craving the cleaning products". Or when he looks at himself in the mirror and briefly wonders if his stomach is getting bigger. Or even those weird dreams he has of being Virgin Mary giving birth on a stable.
No, with Danielle it's somehow even worse. He puts his arm in front of Clay when they almost get knocked over by two guys fighting at the bar and Clay thinks, how protective, he'd make a good dad. Which is ridiculous, because Clay has children and he's not protective of them in the slightest. One of them is even Danielle's.
But it becomes even worse than that. Because this is Clay's life and he should have known by now that it can and will always get worse. They're enjoying an Orel free day while his son is with Roger and Bloberta. Naturally, Danielle flirts. And even more naturally, Clay flirts back. They do their usual mating dance. And of course, they make love.
Because they can do that now and Clay doesn't even have to be drunk for it. Doesn't even need to drink so he'll forget about it and not feel horribly guilty in a way only a catholic would. He used to think he'd never be able to go through with actually doing anything physical with Danielle. He'd forever be teasing the man, unable to actually commit.
Instead, it was surprisingly easy. Mostly because he let Danielle take the reigns and he's exceptionally good at making sure Clay feels relaxed. Which is why it's so good whenever they do it. Passionate, vibrant, it's hot, it's relieving. And it's great. It's always great. Having Danielle so close he might as well be part of him. The headboard banging, the moaning.
And it's one of the rare moments where Clay forgets about the whole miracle pregnancy fiasco and doesn't wince at the reminder. In fact, for the first time in weeks, he's not thinking about it at all. Danielle feels so good inside him and he has no reason for, doesn't understand what compels him to suddenly scream, just as he feels Danielle's about to finish:
"Come in me!"
And Danielle does. Clay has some time to not think about what he said because his own orgasm hits him like a door to his face and it's so intense he nearly says those three words he has a hard time saying. So it's only after Danielle's managed to pull out and roll over, panting, that he actually realizes what three words he actually said.
He stares at the ceiling the whole night and doesn't sleep at all. It's a testament to how horrifying this is that he doesn't even have it in him to get up and get a drink. He just lies on the bed. Never takes a shower, never says anything. Just stays there until Danielle falls asleep. And stares at the ceiling. Barely blinks. Barely moves. Refuses to think.
He tells himself that it had nothing to do with that. And just like that he has a whole new incident to forget about. It helps that he has a really busy week. The days blend together and it feels like he's always working, even though he also feels like he barely did anything. So he's exhausted by the end of the week, he's made sure he would be.
Just so he didn't have to ever stop to think about what the hell that was.
That's why he accepts it when Danielle offers him a foot rub. And that's why he doesn't complain when that foot rub turns into a full body massage. And he's sighing in delight by the time Danielle starts kissing him all over. And when he takes his pants off, he's so hard he could do anything to have that man inside him.
So he rides him. And it's great. Once again, he forgets about every single thing that has ever plagued his mind. Gets so caught up on finding a rhythm and managing to keep moving even though it's much more work than he's used to doing in bed. Gets lost in the way Danielle moans his name in that deep voice of his, tells him all about how good it feels. He gets distracted.
That's why he fucks up again.
"I'm close, baby," Danielle warns as he usually does.
Clay nods his head repeatedly, keeps bouncing on his lap like his life depends on it. It's crazy that he has the energy for this when he could barely even walk when he got home, practically collapsed on the floor the second he was in the house and no one could witness his pathetic display of laziness. All of that because he couldn't bear to think so he worked like his life depended on it.
"Me too," Clay breathes. "So close."
And Danielle helps him through it, grabs his hips and holds him in place as he fucks into him like he's test driving a sex doll. It makes Clay nearly scream but he manages to keep his voice down, which is impressive considering just how fast and hard Danielle fucks him. Just how he likes it, he likes it when it hurts a little. He likes it when his lover leaves a mark.
"Gonna come," Danielle chokes out, breathless and undone.
And then he seems to remember what Clay said and would very much love to forget he even said last time they did this, because he adds:
"Gonna come inside you."
And Clay could just ignore that and enjoy the peak of his pleasure while he still can but as was already established, there is something very wrong with Clay. He's not sure what it is. If it's his issues with his mom or his issues with his dad or a mix of both with religious bullshit sprinkled on top to make it even better.
Whatever it is, it has him whimpering:
"Yes! Put a baby in me."
Directly into Danielle's ear. And then Danielle looks at him for a brief moment of pure horror but soon he's digging his fingers on Clay's hips and grunting like a beast, suddenly desperate.
"Oh, fuck," it's what he says the moment he loses composure and comes deep inside Clay.
And Clay can feel it spilling inside, too. He feels the mess he makes inside him and part of him is overjoyed at that. He wants to grab his good ol' Gunny and hunt that part of him for sport, then kill it. He has never been so deeply ashamed of himself before. And goddamn, he's had some rough times. This isn't even close to the worst he's ever been.
Danielle pulls out and turns away from Clay like he just finished emptying himself inside a hooker. Like he can't bear to look at him. Clay is very close to tears but Danielle finally looks back to him and forces a smile. A strained one, that makes Clay feel even worse. They stare at each other, both looking like they're waiting for the other one to talk.
He's still sitting on Danielle's lap, which only serves to make this even more uncomfortable. They're far too close to each other to feel so distant. And they both keep staring at each other like one expects the other to break the silence. In the end they do it at the same time, both saying variations of the same thing as they pull away from each other:
"I need a drink," Clay says.
"I need a smoke," Danielle says.
And they go their separate ways. Clay locks himself in his study like he's still hiding from Orel and drinks. Danielle, he assumes, is most likely smoking on the backyard. When they get back to the room, Clay is slightly tipsy and Danielle looks more calm, doesn't have that deer in the headlights look in his eyes. They sit on the bed, they look at each other.
Danielle is the one to break first because he needs Clay like he needs water and so he kisses him like it. Clay kisses him just as hard. Needs him just as much. He's so desperate for reassurance that they'll be alright that he clutches painfully at Danielle's shoulders and continues to cling to him when they're done kissing, like he's afraid he'll leave if he lets go.
"We don't really need to talk about it," Danielle says, patting his back as Clay hugs him tight. "It's nothing."
"Talk about what?" Clay asks. "Nothing happened. We just had some really good sex and now we're gonna sleep. Nothing to see here."
Danielle hums, kisses Clay's forehead as he does every night before sleeping. Clay is so relieved that he's acting like he always does, that nothing's changed. He could cry. Danielle holds him that night and they both pretend not to be thinking about the exact same thing. Ignoring the elephant in the room like they hope that will make it go away.
That night, Clay dreams that he's giving birth. He doesn't know how. Doesn't know why. All he can see is Doctor Potterswheel between his spread legs. Which is absolutely terrifying for anyone that ever had to have a doctor's appointment with the man. It's very dark and it's just him and Potterswheel in the room.
To him, that classifies as a nightmare. There's screaming and he doesn't know where it's coming from. The whole thing is very terrifying, he wonders if that's how Bloberta felt when she gave birth. He wouldn't know, he was too drunk to notice. The baby has a head full of blond hair, like Shapey. But it has Clay's eyes and that's deeply unsettling.
Orel gets in the room and he gets to hold it first, calls the thing the second coming of Jesus Christ. The whole scene feels like it came out of a fever dream. In the morning, Danielle is doing a fantastic job of acting like nothing happened. So much so that Clay ends up convincing himself it didn't happen. That it was all part of the weird dream.
It helps that Danielle doesn't seem to be hung up on it. He acts normally, still flirts with Clay every chance he gets, still takes Orel out to do anything the kid wants to do when Clay is too hollowed out from work to deal with him. Things go very great for the next week and once again, Clay gets lured into a false sense of security.
They're having sex again and that's a good sign. The fact that Danielle still wants him so much after how long they've been together is honestly baffling. Love usually fades earlier than that. It's a good thing they legally can't get married. Marriage would kill that. They're in Clay's favorite position: missionary.
Because not only is he able to look into Danielle's beautiful eyes and see all the love in his face that's all for him but he also gets to just lie back and not have to put in any effort. He used to be annoyed at Bloberta for how stiff and lifeless she was in bed but now he gets it. It's very much easier. No one talks about how hard it is to keep your body lifted and thrust at the same time.
This time it's going great. Clay doesn't say anything weird, Danielle doesn't say anything he figured he should say from what weird thing Clay said last time. It's perfect, just the sound of their bodies joining each other and their heavy breathing. When Clay starts whining nonsensically it's because he's close and Danielle knows it.
He comes with a very satisfied shout and trembles all over, his body becoming dead weight as he immediately starts feeling sleepy. Danielle is almost done, he can feel him twitching inside him and he feels the way his hips stutter, his rhythm becoming more frantic and more clumsy as he reaches his peak, using Clay like he's just a hole.
It's hard for Clay to stay awake after sex, once he's had an orgasm it's like his body decides that it's done. And that's because it always was, the rare times he slept with Bloberta. Sex is not supposed to be fun or good. At least not for women. Hell, half the time it wasn't even good for Clay. It just felt weird, uncomfortably hot and awkward.
So that's why it's a conscious effort on his part to stay awake and alert while Danielle finishes. It's the least he can do since he's already doing all the work for him. He patiently waits for him to finish, knowing it's coming soon based on how desperately he's moving. He usually gets more careless as he gets close, Danielle is really giving his all this time.
Suddenly he makes a move like he's about to pull out and Clay freaks out, immediately trapping him with his legs and grabbing him closer until he has no choice but to let it all spill inside him. Danielle moans loud and unabashed, breathes like he just got back from running a marathon directly on Clay's ear. Then he sighs.
"Why..." he asks, stopping for a minute to catch his breath. "Did you do that?"
Clay shakes his head, wishes he had an answer to that, an answer that isn't:
"Had to make sure you'd do it inside."
Danielle takes a deep breath. He winces when he finally pulls out, stares at Clay in a way that has his cheeks burning from the embarrassment. He wishes he could dig himself a hole and live in it. The shame has him silent as Danielle settles on the bed next to him, he doesn't even look at him. He hopes to God they don't have to actually talk about this.
But when has God ever listened to his prayers?
"Clay," Danielle starts, looking unsure. "Is this about that thing Orel said about a miracle baby?"
Clay's eyes go wide and he finally turns to look at his lover.
"He told you that? God, what is wrong with that kid?"
"Apparently, he really wants a sibling."
"It's all Bloberta," Clay grumbles. "She's been putting ideas in his head, I just know it. Telling him to pray that you can magically impregnate me. That woman."
"Clay..." Danielle hesitates. "Why are you so fixated on that?"
There's many things he could say to that but the thing that pops into his mind has him stunned by how obvious it is. Clay really wishes he didn't have to talk about this but unfortunately, he's been consistently doing this for almost a month. It's starting to get concerning. He sighs, tired from the talk they didn't even have yet.
"I guess it's just unfair."
He can sense Danielle's confusion without even looking at him but he looks anyway, because Danielle looks weirdly adorable when he's confused. It's not usually he doesn't understand something and Clay almost doesn't want to share this with him. But they'll have to talk about this sooner or later, ignoring it hasn't been helping.
"I mean. You gave Bloberta a baby. Why can't you just... give me one too?"
Danielle sighs, burying his face on Clay's neck and breathing him in.
"So that's what this is about, huh?"
"Well, you don't have to say it like that. That makes it sound stupid."
Danielle shakes his head, laughs like he can't believe this is the man he's in love with. Clay can hardly believe it himself most of the time. Best not to argue with a good thing, though.
"You know I didn't really give Bloberta a baby. That was for you. I was thinking about you the whole time. So I guess, in a way, I knocked you up."
Clay blushes. Then he has another physical reaction. One that makes his face get even redder.
"Are you... hard?" Danielle asks.
Clay wishes God would strike him down at this exact moment. But as it usually is with him and God, he's thoroughly ignored. Which is actually what got them into this mess in the first place, ignoring. Still, he has hope that they can just pretend this never happened so he won't have to live with the shame of his own unnatural desires.
"Can we just ignore everything I say and do from now on? This is embarrassing enough without you needing to point it out."
He tries to act annoyed but Danielle has him smiling again in seconds when he kisses his cheek repeatedly.
"All I'm saying is I would gladly get you pregnant. But you barely like the kids you have now. We should just be grateful it can't happen."
They really ought to be grateful for that. Even thinking about another baby makes Clay shudder. Some other kid running around the house, screaming whenever it doesn't get its way. Asking too many questions, making him look bad. Getting way too involved in things that don't concern him. Asking for things Clay can't provide.
"But I guess I can admit I like it just a little bit. The idea of something of mine growing inside you," Danielle puts his hand over Clay's stomach, caressing it gently. "You walking around carrying living proof that you're mine. That you gave yourself to me. Opened your heart for my love, after so long. Opened other things too, if you know what I mean. Heh heh heh."
Clay likes it too. Mostly because it makes him think of being bound to Danielle somehow. Of him being metaphorically chained to him, unable to leave him with such a big part of him growing inside Clay. It makes him smile. He lays his head on Danielle's chest, feeling less bothered by the whole thing. Surprisingly, talking actually helped.
"Still, you probably think it's so weird," Clay groans.
"Not at all. I really enjoy filling you up."
Clay hits him in the chest weakly, too tired to put any force behind it.
"Stop saying these things," he mumbles. "I'm too old to go again."
It becomes something they joke about. When Clay throws up after drinking too much the previous night, Danielle says he's not ready to be a father. Clay is incredibly upset about the jokes at first but they slowly make the situation less embarrassing. He gets into it. Jokingly tells Danielle that stress isn't good for the baby.
In bed, it's less funny and more weirdly hot. Danielle promises to fill him up, has him ask for it. Clay begs him to come inside, tells him he wants another baby. It's not something he ever pictured doing or saying to Danielle but then again, life has a way of throwing you in the most unexpected situations. It's not the worst thing he ever said or did.
It doesn't take long for him to stop feeling so ashamed about it. It gets to a point where he's asking Danielle to please make him pregnant and not even batting an eye. Danielle comes inside him and asks what he thinks about baby names. They have a laugh about it. It helps that it's still very much impossible, makes it a bit less real.
But it is so easy to forget about reality with Danielle's eyes darkening as he looks down at Clay on the bed, naked and ready for him. In moments like these, what's on the realm of possibility completely goes over Clay's mind and he's convinced it will happen. Danielle will find a way to make him pregnant somehow.
It's helped by the fact that when he looks at him like that, like he's important, like he's worth something, he feels like his entire body is willing to do anything Danielle asks of it. So he feels like he can do it, he can find a way to make it possible if that's what Danielle wants. And maybe that's the appeal of it for him.
Danielle thinking he's good enough to carry something of his long-term. God, it's messed up. But Clay loves it, only thinking about it makes him weak on the knees. On top of him on the bed, Danielle kisses him reverently, like he's made to be worshipped and taken care of. He wants Danielle to take care of him, like he's something precious.
"Look at you," Danielle says as he takes in the sight of him. "So beautiful for me. It is all for me, right?"
What a stupid question, Clay thinks. Who else would it be for? Clay is his to take.
"All for you, Danielle."
"I bet," he drawls, his gaze intense and entirely fixated on Clay. "And soon everyone will know just by looking at you. They'll all know you're mine."
Maybe that's the appeal of it for Danielle, Clay thinks as the man in question sucks bruises into his skin. While Danielle isn't necessarily the jealous one in their relationship, he is very possessive. He's not shy about letting others know Clay is his, even if he can't be direct about it. Clay wishes he could sometimes.
As if marking him isn't enough, Danielle takes the time to rub one of Clay's nipples until it gets hard under his thumb and then he gets his mouth around it. It's incredibly unfair of him because he knows Clay is sensitive to that sort of thing and he has to cover his mouth to stop the embarrassing whine that caused.
It's too early in their foreplay for him to start whining, he reminds himself. Also he's a grown man, an adult man. A man in his forties shouldn't be whining. But he can't control the way he sounds and he especially can't control the things that come out of mouth when Danielle starts sucking on his nipple. Actually sucking.
He gets one of his hands in his hair, instinct making him try to pull him away when it gets too intense. Danielle does pull away but he brings his thumb to Clay's nipple again, rubbing it and watching curiously for his reaction. The reaction is a wince as he struggles to keep his embarrassing moans quiet enough that he won't hear.
"No milk yet," Danielle notes. "But we can keep trying."
If Clay had some more self-control and if he was less horny, he could actually get up and put an end to their lovemaking but as it is, he only gives Danielle a glare as his cheeks heat up. Danielle goes back to his neck, kisses it and starts nibbling on the skin there like he's trying to eat a piece of Clay. It's almost painful but then one of his hands rub Clay's dick, already hard under the fabric of his underwear.
"Danielle," he moans in surprise.
"You want to try, don't you, Clay? You're really excited to have my baby, aren't you?"
Clay nods so vigorously he hears something in his neck crack, though he barely feels it.
"Yes, please."
But Danielle doesn't look convinced, he always likes hearing it. Clay doesn't know if it's because he finds it funny how desperate he can get or if it genuinely turns him on. Could be both.
"Tell me how badly you want it."
"So bad, Danielle. Ah, you have no idea," Clay sighs, hoping to look as enticing as he's attempting to come off as. "I'm just so empty. Come fill me up, please."
In the face of Clay's lack of shame, there's no chance of Danielle resisting. Clay can see by the way he looks at him that he's won, he doesn't even have to wait a minute for Danielle to grab him by the hips and spin him around so fast it gives him whiplash. Clay rushes to get in position, knowing he'll be tired in no time but that it will all be worth it.
He feels the lube and feels how cold it is, which makes him tremble and move a bit like he just got shocked. Danielle is very generous with how much he uses and he soon gets a finger inside Clay. In and out, like he's just checking how tight he is. He makes no move to use another, keeps deliberately making sure it doesn't go deep enough for Clay.
"There. Isn't that nice?"
"Come on," Clay rolls his eyes. "I know you know I need more than that."
"If you want more than that, all you need to do is ask. You know that, Clay."
He does. It's just that he hoped what he said earlier would have given him enough points to get through this without having to beg for it. But Danielle seems to appreciate his begging.
"I need you in me. Please."
In true Danielle fashion, he takes advantage of the position he has for as long as he can. He keeps caressing Clay's thighs and butt, squeezes his ass before giving him another finger and moving them faster. Words like "please" and "like that" leave Clay's mouth without him really being aware, he gets lost on the feeling of being filled.
Just not filled enough. Not with what he'd like.
"Please? Don't make me ask again," he tries to make it a command but it sounds more like a plea.
It doesn't make Danielle even slightly more inclined to give him what he wants, he still moves as slowly as he wants to. It's clear that this will go his way tonight and Clay is both enraged at the notion of not getting to call the shots and ecstatic that Danielle's in charge here. It's fitting. And it almost makes up for how long he's making him wait.
When he feels Danielle lower his body to be just above Clay's, he's so ready to be finally filled that it hurts when he realizes he won't do that yet. All he does is reach out his free hand to touch Clay but he doesn't even have the decency to actually give him even a brief handjob. Instead, he brings his fingers to the tip of Clay's cock and smears precum all over it, making Clay jump in surprise.
"Danielle!" he gasps as his hips move on their own accord, trying to get friction.
His lover is cruel today. Unnecessarily so. He only laughs that same slow laugh of his, like Clay's reaction is the only thing he was after when doing that. It most likely was.
"I think you don't need anything else," he says in a low tone, his mouth so close to Clay's ear that it makes the hair in the back of his neck stand up. "You're already so wet for me."
"Ngh," it's what comes out of Clay's mouth when he tries to say something intelligible.
Danielle pulls back, presumably to get the lube on his own cock now, and he gives no warning when he gives Clay a solid smack in the ass before finally sliding in. The amount of lube and the amount of time he spent teasing makes the slide easy and Clay feels the stretch, feels how full he is the moment he's all in. He closes his eyes and breathes in.
"Good?" Danielle asks.
Clay knows he's basically asking if it's fine to move so he nods as convincingly as he can, can't find any words now that his mind is so blissfully empty of any thought that isn't Danielle, Danielle, Danielle. He thanks God for Danielle in his mind and that's his last coherent thought before Danielle starts ramming into him like there's no tomorrow.
It's entirely unexpected and way too fast for Clay to keep up with it, all he can do is hang on for dear life and keep up his position by leaning on shaky arms as he grips the bedsheets. Honestly, it's insanely impressive that Danielle can do this and barely have to catch his breath. Clay isn't moving at all and he feels like the air is being knocked out of him.
"Take me so well," Danielle says and Clay's mind suddenly becomes clear as if the praise revived his braincells. "Like you were made for it."
All Clay can do is nod his head and try to voice his agreement as well as he can. Danielle's merciless pounding doesn't let him do much else.
"I was, I was made for it," he manages to say.
"That's right."
The movements cease and the sounds do too, making Clay confused until he feels Danielle pull out. He opens his mouth to complain but is promptly spun back around and only gets to make a slightly surprised sound before Danielle's lips are crashing into his, his hips are aligning with Clay's again and he's pushing back in as he kisses him.
Clay gasps when Danielle lets his mouth free, being momentarily too ashamed of how fucked out he feels to look him in the eye. But it's Danielle and he always looks at Clay with such intense and open adoration, eyes shining with love and lust and everything in between. Clay smiles and looks at him, how happy he always looks to be inside him.
It's a mutual feeling, he's always happy to have him inside him too. It's like he's been a puzzle missing its piece for so long and he finally found what makes him complete. That's Danielle's cock. His love too, in a way. Danielle looks down on him with fondness but he soon gets back to looking smug when he pinches one of Clay's nipples, making him yelp.
Before Clay can make any attempt to get angry at him for it, he's back to fucking him like he means business. It's much easier to take it when Clay can just rest his head, lie back and let him have him. His legs are wrapped around Danielle's waist as he slams into him fast and hard just like he likes it. And he doesn't even look like he's struggling at all.
"Look at this," Danielle says as he barely touches Clay's aching erection. "Are you gonna come soon? Go ahead. You can do it."
"Touch me."
Danielle looks at him like he just said something cute, like he's trying not to laugh.
"Oh, baby. You don't need it."
Clay furrows his brow at him indignantly, even as he can't stop making these embarrassing breathy noises as Danielle fucks him, never slowing down.
"Danielle," Clay whines. "Touch me."
It comes out more forceful so he's sure Danielle will give in, especially since he does enjoy touching Clay when he comes all over himself. But his lover is hellbent on being cruel today and instead of giving Clay what he asked for, what he claimed Clay doesn't need, whatever that means, he somehow manages to speed up his movements even more.
It's all very sudden and Clay can't breathe, he can't understand what's happening from how fast he's going. He has no hope of controlling his voice, can only moan out loud as Danielle keeps fucking him faster and faster, his every thrust aiming at and hitting his spot and making Clay feel something build up in the pit of his stomach.
"Sweet Jesus, oh God, oh my-"
"God isn't doing this to you now, Clay," Danielle mocks.
Clay nods his head in agreement, feeling slightly ashamed for taking the lord's name in vain in a time like this. He grits his teeth to keep the scream he's about to let out in, the second Danielle slams into him so hard his vision nearly whites out.
"Tell me who's doing this to you, Clay. Come on. Who's fucking you?"
He's unrelenting, Clay struggles to tell him what he wants to hear.
"You, Danielle," he cries out. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, Danielle, please."
"Come for me, Clay. You know you can."
Clay's about to tell him he can't, not if he doesn't touch him but then Danielle gets one of his hands on his cock and doesn't even touch him, he doesn't give him the satisfaction but it comes close. He rubs his head in a torturously slow manner as he fucks into him, making Clay feel like he's about to ascend to a higher plane before recognizing the familiar feeling of an orgasm.
"There you are."
When Clay comes he does with a shout and he feels how he spills all over his own stomach, making a mess. Danielle stops moving for sometime to give him a second to recover but that's really all it is, all it feels like. A second. Because soon enough, before Clay can even catch his breath, he's giving it to him hard again. That makes Clay actually cry.
"Too much," he weeps. "S' too much, it's sensitive, it's-"
"I know it's sensitive, shh. It's okay. You can handle it, can't you, baby? Don't you want me to come deep inside you?"
Clay looks up at him as he nods slowly, still sniffling.
"Yeah, I want you to come. But Danielle, I-I can't-"
"Of course you can."
He does stop moving, though. Enough to make Clay take a deep breath and wipe his tears away. He kisses Clay's cheek and looks at him with nothing but patience and love. When he starts moving again, he does it slowly. His thrusting is less frantic, more calm. The thrusts get slower and way deeper, Clay gasping loudly with each one.
"I'm almost there," Danielle moans. "Should I pull out?"
As if he's forgotten what's the point of all this, Clay suddenly comes alive on the bed and feels a very real sense of desperation.
"B-But you have to come inside me, Danielle. You promised you'd fill me up!"
Danielle shoots him an apologetic look even as he still moves and chases after his own orgasm.
"Not sure if you deserve it."
"No, I-"
Danielle grins at him, "You didn't manage to get pregnant all those times I came inside you. Why should I give it to you if you're just gonna waste it?"
In that moment, Clay forgets a lot of things. He forgets he doesn't have the ability to bear children. He forgets he has no interest in having any children, has no interest in even raising the one he already has. On top of all that, he also forgets about his sense of self-preservation and he throws his shame out the window while he's there.
"I won't," he promises like it's the most important thing he'll ever promise. "I'll never waste it. I promise you, it'll take this time. Please. It'll happen. You'll get me pregnant. We-We just have to keep trying."
Like his pleading is all Danielle needs to get himself off, he keeps moving with his eyes blissfully closed and his movements picking up speed then slowing down again.
"I don't know," Danielle breathes. "You know, sometimes I think you don't even want to have my baby."
"I do!"
And in that moment, he truly does. He feels like all he wants is to carry Danielle's child. He doesn't even care that it's impossible, doesn't even think about how abominable it would be. How painful and troublesome. In that moment, Clay wants it more than anything else in the world. He closes his eyes and pictures himself pregnant.
Pictures himself full of Danielle.
"I want it more than anything, I want it so bad, Danielle. My god, you have to do it. You have to put a baby in me or else I'll die. Fuck, Danielle, please."
That gets him going, Danielle trembles and starts coming apart above Clay. His breathing picks up and he starts getting lost in the feeling. It gives Clay a rush of power to have him be so affected by his words. In that moment, he feels like he could do anything. Danielle rests his forehead on Clay's shoulder, his hips moving more and more desperately.
In an attempt to get Danielle off like he deserves, Clay turns his head so his lips are very close to his ear.
"Come on. Come for me, Danielle" he whispers. "In me, please. Inside."
"Y-Yeah, fuck."
Danielle is close, Clay can feel it. He doesn't have it in him to fuck him fast anymore but he fucks him hard, fucks him deep. Like he's trying to get as deep as humanly possible.
"Yeah?" Clay asks, his legs like a vice around Danielle's hips, stopping him from pulling out.
Giving him no choice but to spill it all inside him.
"Oh, Clay. Fuck, Clay, I'm-"
"Give me a baby, Danielle," Clay says, his voice clear as he whispers it to his lover. "Make me full. God, I'm so empty. Pump me full of your come, please. Make me pregnant."
"Fuck, I will," Danielle promises as he turns his head to give him a heated look. "Want me to make you pregnant, huh?"
"Yeah."
Danielle breathes in like he's trying to control himself and then he smirks, the way he usually does when he's about to say something that will ruin Clay's life.
"Want me to make you a mommy?"
There's something deeply, seriously wrong with Clay. He makes an aborted movement that could be a nod of his head but ends up being nothing, he bites his lip to try to keep himself from screaming and Danielle finally comes. He finally gives him what he asked for. Clay comes too. Again, which he didn't even know he could do yet.
"Yes, yes," he shouts when he comes for the second time. "Make me a mommy!"
Caught up on their fantasy as he is, all he manages to do is hold onto Danielle's shoulders as he fills him up for what feels like minutes. Danielle comes a lot. Clay is sure this time will take. That is, until he wakes up from whatever this delusion was. And his logical brain tells him what will take? You can't get pregnant. You're nobody's mommy.
They're officially done. Danielle pulls out after some contemplation, like he really doesn't want to but just has to. Clay misses him the second he's not inside him anymore. In the afterglow, he's full of Danielle's seed and full of shame. His face is so red he's sure he looks like an apple. His whole body feels boneless, he can't move.
Danielle kisses his cheek like the sweetheart he is, while Clay is still too far gone to think about anything else but what they just did. He thinks he might never get over the embarrassment. And this time was particularly embarrassing. Especially discovering that there's a small, deluded part of him that really wants to have Danielle's baby.
Clay shuts that part down as best as he can. He cannot believe sometimes that this whole situation started because of a nonsensical comment Orel made. It's enough to make him want to laugh until he cries whenever he remembers it. He really can't believe the things that end up happening in his life because of Orel. Maybe in a way, he should be grateful.
But a very big part of Clay also wished to keep these desires as hidden as possible. Like they were before, hidden enough that he himself had no idea he was into this until he realized he very much is. In his opinion, he could really go his whole life without knowing it. But since he does know it now, at least he can have some really amazing sex.
And maybe if he and Danielle joke enough about this whole thing, about how the idea of him being pregnant with Danielle's baby turns him on, it will stop being something that makes Clay want to bury himself alive and never face anyone he knows again. Maybe one day they'll joke about it so much Clay won't even be fazed by this weird fixation.
So he stops reprimanding Danielle for the jokes and starts making them too. Tells him he should massage him after a hard day because Clay's been doing his best carrying his baby. Jokingly calls him a future daddy knowing it's nothing that could ever potentially happen, not as far as he's aware. It becomes something of an inside joke for them.
"I want a sister," Shapey says once when Clay and Danielle go to pick up Orel at Bloberta's.
Bloberta groans like she's tired of hearing it.
"He's been going on and on about that ever since Orel put that idea in his head."
Orel is unapologetic about it, "It's true. I still want a little sister. Gee, mom and dad, when are you gonna get me a sibling?"
Clay turns to look at Danielle and he can't help it, he laughs out loud.
"Well, Orel, we've been trying."
Danielle nods, "We've been trying real hard, kid. Give us some time."
"Gosh, okay then!"
And Clay's cheerful, naive son goes to wait for them in the car as Clay stares with an intense look of smugness at Bloberta's shocked face. Next to her with a confused frown on his face, Roger doesn't seem to get it.
Clay and Danielle laugh in unison.