I won a dollhouse today!!! My local dollhouse shop had their two year anniversary party and they gave away a dollhouse and I ended up winning it! I still can’t believe it!! I love this little house and have so many ideas for it!! The furniture didn’t come with it, most I bought today but some I already had :)
Can’t wait to work on the front!
Prompt: classic trope - “looks like there is only one bed”
Count: 890 words
Tags: preslash, pining mostly.
The only reason Clay agreed to this ridiculous trip with Tony was to get away from it. But the cabin in the woods, where he was convinced he was going to murdered, was tiny. It wasn’t so much the size that mattered - because it didn’t. It was cozily small. But the fact it only had one foldout couch was the specific problem.
“Looks like there is only one bed.” Tony observed; the kitchen, and dining room, and lounge room were all connected. There was three doors around them, one for the bathroom, one for the pantry and one for the exit. In short, there was no bedroom. So Clay didn’t have a choice but to probably sleep with Tony - not sleep with, together on the same bed. Whatever.
“Looks that way.” Clay nodded, dropping his bag by the kitchen bench, and glanced around. On the plus side, there was a fireplace, which Tony was already examining. He’d dressed relatively comfortable, and Clay found himself at Tony’s sweatpants. Clay then coughed, and became very, very interested in the ornament on the bench.
They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring the several rock faces, the single lake that the hut looked out upon, and the miles of woodland surrounding them. By nightfall, Tony cooked while Clay set the bed out. He groaned when he realised only one blanket, and neither of them had brought their own. Of course, the universe was once again shitting down Clay’s throat.
They ate, and talked for the night, before curling up on separate sides of the sofabed. When Tony felt Clay’s shivers running through the bed, he turned to see Clay without anything over him.
“You’re an idiot.” Tony muttered, punching Clay’s shoulder playfully. He threw the comforter over Clay, as Clay tried to reject it politely. Instead, Tony gripped Clay’s forearm, giving him a stern look. “I didn’t ask.”
Clay pushed a short smile out, and looked back at the ceiling. He could feel Tony’s gaze burning into his cheek, but he was too nervous to make eye contact with the other. So instead, he closed his eyes, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Tony was the one to wake Clay, accidentally. Clay could feel something warm against his back, and for a foggy moment, he didn’t know why, but he also didn’t ware. He relaxed into the body, vaguely aware that he wasn’t in his room. Tony shifted, his chest hitting Clay’s back enough to jolt them both awake. Tony’s arm had snaked around Clay’s waist at some point during the night, but in an instant, Tony yanked it away.
“Sorry…” Tony mutters, sitting up. The windows remained frozen, mist gathered along every inch of it, with only ribbons of moonlight scattering themselves through the panes. It wasn’t morning, and Tony was thankful. The Latino’s shirtless torso moved like fluid, drifting slowly across the wooden floors without causing so much as a squeak. His tattoos moved with his skin. As Clay’s eyes began to focus, he realised that Tony was only wearing boxers, and probably apologised for something less innocent than Clay assumed. The door clicked behind Tony, and Clay dragged a pillow across his own face.
“Why are you like this?” Clay mutters into the pillow. He is too busy scolding himself to hear Tony open the bathroom door again. Tony stands in the doorway, curious, but not wanting to embarrass Clay. “You have Tony in the same bed as you, and you’re too much of a pussy to make a move. He told you he was gay. Just start a conversation.”
Tony waits until Clay pauses to pull the bathroom door open, making some sort of noise to cover up his eavesdropping session. He slips back next to Clay, who has since stopped talking, or moving. At one point, Tony’s convinced Clay has smothered himself and Tony was going to get charged for a murder he didn’t commit, and it would just be a terrible situation. He then assumed Clay had fallen back to sleep, and decided to just close his eyes.
“How much of that did you hear? You already had the door open.”
“Enough.” Tony chuckled. “And you know, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
Clay nodded, and pulled the pillow from his face to tuck it under his head. “Sorry. I hope you don’t think it’s weird of me or something. I don’t know.” Clay turns his head to Tony, who places a finger under Clay’s cheek.
“Clay, you’re hot, and funny and kind, and I think anybody would be lucky to hear that from you.” Tony smiled gently.
“So you find me hot, hey?”
“Of course that’s what you get out of it. But yes. I do.” Tony puckered his lips. Boldness trickled through his veins, and he shifted closer to Clay, running his fingers up Clay’s chest.
“Are we supposed to like, fuck now? You know, romantically slow and whatever. I feel like confessing feelings warrants some sort of release of sexual tension.” Clay grinned. Clay patted his chest, and Tony took it as a place to rest his head.
“How can you be horny at two a.m.?” Tony laughs.
“I was joking.” Clay kissed the back of Tony’s head. “Mostly.”