Sticks Are Hard (Clony)
“Sticks Are Hard.”
Prompt: Consider this: post-tapes pining Clony pre-slash. Tony offers to teach Clay how to drive a manual as an ‘inconspicuous’ excuse to spend time with Clay now that the tapes are behind them.
Pairing: Clony (Clay x Tony), 13 Reasons Why
Count: 444 Words - sorry it is so short, I didn’t really know how to fill this one out.
Tags: innuendos, pre-slash, pining!Tony, straight!Clay (mostly straight, at least)
Tony followed Clay out into the parking lot, gently shouldering him as he fell into pace. “Hey stranger.” Tony smiled, his eyes flickering between Clay’s.
“Hey, Tony.” Clay replies. “How are you?”
“This is very formal.” Tony frowns. “Everything okay?”
Clay laughs, in a short, sharp way that suggests everything was some kind of joke. “Not really. My parents are mad about the tapes. Well, about the fact I didn’t tell them that the dead girl left a suicide note. But anyway.” Clay’s expression is so clearly pained that Tony ignores it, not wanting to force Clay into a conversation.
Tony shrugged, and unlocked his car. “If you want, you could spend this afternoon at mine. I could even teach you how to drive this ol’ thing, if you’d like.”
There was a short nod, before Clay opened the passengers side door; he did find it slightly weird that Tony would let him in the driver’s seat, let alone drive his beloved car. He didn’t question it too much, more glad for the fact he had somewhere else to go. They’d only just gotten out the school gates when Clay blurts, “I heard about you and Brad. I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t going to last anyway.” Tony said, shutting down the conversation before it happened. While there was truth to what he said, it was the boy sitting next to him that really caused his relationship to end.
“Are you fucking kidding? Clay Jensen, of all people?”
“Talk about him like that again. I swear to God, Brad.” There’s a dangerous laugh that follows Tony’s words.
Afternoons were spent like that. With several innuendos every time, and only Tony seemed to pick up on them.
Clay: “You’re better at a stick than me!”
Clay: “This sucks, I hate sticks.”
Also, Clay: “I can’t work the stick.”
Surprisingly, Clay: “I’m putting it in reverse, the stick won’t move.”
Probably getting very homoerotic, Clay: “Sticks are hard.”
After the second week, there was very little that they could improve on, because Clay had made zero progress. So, on the Thursday afternoon, they sat in Tony’s bedroom, while Clay worked on homework. Tony stared at him, tracing the hunched over figure several hundred times, and never getting sick of how Clay looked when concentrated.
Week three rolled around, and slowly passed. It wasn’t until they were sitting on Clay’s bed, with Clay’s fingers tracing the cross and semicolon tattoo that things really went anywhere. Tony could say, from personal experience, that straight guys didn’t normally do that. So who could blame him when Tony caved, and kissed Clay?
Clay certainly didn’t blame him.