Hands of Clay Ch. 18

Hey... So I stopped posting on this story because I thought no one was reading it and I thought it didn't matter if I finished it or whatever. And then I got an email and I guess there is someone who wanted me to finish this... maybe.

Anyway, this is for the "Texan."

Cheers.

Clay took the side of the hall where the camera didn't point. He juggled the containers of food he'd picked up from the chow hall as he got Brice's key out of his pocket.

Silently, Clay let himself into Brice's place like he'd been doing for weeks. Today Brice was nowhere around. That was a first. Generally, the grader was home before him. Sometimes the man waited naked to jump him. Other times Brice did a slow seduction of music, food, and then sex. Being the first one to the apartment was new.

Setting the food on the table, Clay walked to the bed and stripped out of his uniform. Past evenings had taught him that Brice hated seeing the outfit for H.S.P.C. training. He had the feeling that the logo reminded Brice that they were breaking the rules. That was the one thing Clay didn't want either of them to think about when they were together. He didn't want anything to change Brice's mind.

Since he only had until graduation to convince his grader they should be boyfriends, Clay didn't want to waste even one night. Over and over again, Brice said that he would only be with Clay until the blue gears were on his wrist. Well, if that was true, Clay refused to sit through a night hearing Brice woefully tell him how they were breaking H.S.P.C. policy.

After Clay put his clothes away, he showered and then used the healing gel for his ass. Although he'd laughed at Brice for giving him after anal sex care directions the first night, they were together, he still used the information. Clay dabbed Gears' healing cream on his sore skin and then returned to the bedroom.

Brice had been rough on him two nights ago. Not that he was complaining. Even though last night his grader had spent hours sucking on him and left his hole alone, Clay's ass still felt the sting from the previous pounding.

After Clay put on Brice's sweater and navy pants, he picked out his favorite CD. Once the sound of the sixties was on repeat, he strolled to the kitchen.

He'd just started to reheat the food when Brice walked in and slammed the door.

Brice looked tired, wet, and angry. The white antiviral spray that the H.S.P.C. used to combat Snow Flu covered the trainer from head to boots. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and water dripped from his H.S.P.C. jacket. Even the scar on his cheek pulsed with fury. The files in Brice's hands were damp, and he tossed them to the floor. The papers made a splat as a pen bounced. Angrily, his grader stripped off his jacket and strode to the bathroom. He stopped, and his head swiveled to Clay.

"I don't want to fuck." Brice's red-rimmed eyes glared. "Clear?"

"Crystal."

Brice stomped to his bathroom and slammed the door.

Clay finished heating the food and then picked up the files off the floor. After he gathered the pen and set everything on the table, Clay put the food on a tray and climbed into bed. Not much time had passed before Brice appeared out of the bathroom, showered, and wrapped in a towel.

Damn. Brice looked hot in a towel, but Clay had to admit, he looked even better naked.

"I said I didn't want to have sex." Brice crossed his arms over his muscled chest and scowled. Apparently, Clay didn't hide his desire well. He schooled his expression to a mild smile.

"I remember. It wasn't that long ago."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Brice took two steps toward the mattress and frowned at the food. When he stepped toward the bed, that's when Clay noticed that Brice had put his prosthetic foot back on. Normally, after a shower he left it off.

"You get a D minus on your situational awareness." Clay chuckled. "I got food from the chow hall." He patted the bed. "You can be angry while you eat."

"You want to eat in my bed?" Brice unfolded his arms as a look of pure confusion cascaded across his face. His eyes swung to his doorway where Clay had picked up his coat and hung it. He then looked at the table where Clay had put his folders and pen.

Clay laughed. "You've never eaten in bed?"

"No."

"How the tables have turned. Now you're the virgin, and I'm the worldly one. I will teach you the joys of eating in bed."

"We are going to make a mess." Brice hesitated.

"Instructor Brice." Clay made a circle to gesture the sheets and food. "We make a mess having sex. We make a mess of our lives. It's all a mess, so you might as well drink and fuck and eat and live."

"I'm not up for sex." Brice's eyebrows dropped low over his eyes. "I've had the day from hell. I'm not good company right now."

"Don't worry." Clay patted a pillow. "I promise I won't take advantage of you." Clay held up his hands when Brice didn't move. "I'll keep my hands to myself, and we don't even have to talk to each other."

Finally, Brice climbed into the bed and sat next to him. He didn't remove his towel or his foot as if he was making a point. After a minute or so, he began to eat, and his shoulders relaxed. Brice leaned against the pillow.

"The day was a shit-show. BOHICA."

"BOHICA?"

"Bend over, here it comes again."

Clay laughed and then sobered. "Were you standing in the rain? There are these things called umbrellas. I know a trainer who has one."

"One of Ponce's team got into a fight with Zac. I had to break it up, and I got knocked into the mud. By then, everything I wore was soaked. Then Janis and Abdul were caught having sex in a lab, and when I went to handle that, someone lost the key to the storage container I needed. Typical HQ," Brice grumbled. "I was told I had to find it. I was back in the rain looking for the fucking thing, and while I was out, someone entered HQ without being cleared of Snow Flu. That caused a freak-out. HQ made everyone outside or on the main floor go through the Snow Flu checkpoint, and..." He sighed. "I just want this day to be over."

Clay took the empty plates and rose. After putting them in the sink, he stripped out of Brice's clothes. Naked, he walked back to the bed. Brice's eyes tracked him as he climbed onto the mattress and got between the sheets.

"I'm not up for sex, Clay."

"I heard." Clay grabbed Brice's hands and tugged him into his arms. Brice set his head on Clay's chest, and with relaxed movements, Clay stroked back his grader's brown hair.

"What are we doing now?" Brice exhaled.

"Do you have work? I saw you brought files."

"A few things. I missed a couple of meetings while I was in the mandatory quarantine until I was authorized re-entry into the building." Brice jerked his head toward the files on the table. "All my clothes are covered in that damn antiviral white shit."

"While you work, I'll toss your clothes into the washer." Clay got up a second time and headed into the bathroom.

After tossing Brice's clothes in the machine, he washed his hands before he strolled back out into the main living area. He grabbed a book he'd spotted in Brice's place a few days ago. The hardcover was under a pile of compact disks. This novel was tucked next to the manuals for explosives and field operations. After Clay grabbed the story, he collected the folder and pen and returned to the bed.

The look of confusion was back on Brice's face.

Once Clay was curled in the covers, he flipped to the first page. He didn't read one word. Brice's eyes bore into him.

"What?" Clay looked over his shoulder.

"You have a book."

"Yeah, I have a book. I know how to read. However, why you have a romance novel might be a conversation we'll have later."

"I don't know what this is." Brice waved back and forth. "I told you I didn't want to have sex. Why aren't you leaving? We aren't fucking. You just did my laundry."

Clay met Brice's curious stare. The grader was serious.

"Haven't you ever hung out? Just talked or worked or read with someone you care about? Maybe listened to music? You like music. I picture you sharing that with someone you like."

"No." Brice stared at his files. "They were agents. They had places to be. I was an agent. I didn't have time for that. And when I asked to hang out, I was considered clingy."

"Do you want me to leave?" Clay closed the book. "I didn't figure that this was a booty call." Even though Clay didn't say it, he thought they were building a real relationship. He had hoped that this wasn't just sex between them. But thinking that Brice only thought of him in this apartment for a hook-up was a sobering idea.

"I want you to stay. It's not a booty call." Brice propped up his pillow and flipped open his files. "I'm just having a hard time believing you want to be in my bed... reading."

"Your bed and I have a range of enjoyable activities. Stay out of our relationship."

Brice chuckled and then started working.

A few hours later, right as the hero was fighting bandits, Brice rose and clicked off the main overhead lights. He then turned on the bedside lamps. After the instructor set his files on the table, he climbed back into bed and removed both his prosteic foot and his touwel. When he was naked, Brice curled close to Clay's side.

"My brother had that book. That's why I have a romance novel in my apartment. I guess he liked it."

"Your brother had good taste. I like tactics, techniques, and procedures for observed fire manual as much as the next guy, but this has merit too." Clay closed the novel and rolled until he set his head on Brice's chest. "I don't want to be here if it's only sex. I hoped that we would keep getting to know each other. I want to be here and talk or read or listen to music and..."

"Fuck?" Brice asked.

"I was going to say and hold you, but yeah, and sometimes fuck."

"That's heading into enemy territory, Clay." Brice slipped from the bed and hopped to the fridge. He used to chairs to keep his balance as he opened the door. The light glowed on his face.

"Stop saying enemy territory. There is nothing wrong with wanting more than sex from you. Maybe I want the whole package? Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me domestic. I can take the insult."

"I haven't changed my mind. I'm still letting you go at the end of the cycle. You're leaving to be an agent. I know I should tell you to leave now." Brice grabbed a bottle out of the fridge. The wine was from two nights ago. They never finished drinking it since sex had become more important. When Brice turned back to Clay, he stared at the cork. "I should say all sorts of things about how this is wrong. How we can't keep doing this."

"I've heard it," Clay muttered.

"But you haven't. You aren't listening."

"I'm listening, I'm not agreeing with you. How about instead of telling me all the reasons this isn't going to work, instead of that, you ask me to drink wine with you and then sleep here."

"I keep asking you to stay. I do it night after night." He sighed. "I know I'm sending you mixed signals. I'm weaker than I thought."

"It's no biggie. Whatever signals you send are fine. Come here."

Brice manuvused to the bed with the wine in his hand. He climbed back into the sheets holding the bottle. Once he was stettled in the blankets, he popped the cork. After Brice handed the wine to Clay, he drank directly from the bottle before passing it back.

"One of the trainers called me a shell. Sometimes I think they're right. I don't know how to do stuff like this." Brice gave the wine back to Clay. "I was so busy learning to fight and do what Keith wanted that somewhere along the way, I missed the lesson on having fun and relaxing."

"I can teach you that." Clay drank again. "My friends, I won't say their names," —Clay waved to his naked body— "They call me corpse-cock. Sometimes I think that I was so busy with my family moving and Butch and my sisters that I never got the lessons on how to find pleasure in the bedroom."

Brice reached for the wine, and then his hand stilled. "Corpse what?"

"I've never done this before. Sex, like what we do," Clay clarified. "I don't really like sex normally. You know how you have a list of failed relationships? So do I. All five of them involved me going soft, getting grossed out, or them getting fed up with begging me to be intimate with them."

"I have a hard time imagining that." Brice cushioned his back on his pillows. "You're hot in the bedroom, and the office, and the storage closet."

"You forgot the top floor of HQ."

"I'm so undisciplined," Brice groaned.

"What I'm trying to say is that this thing between us is special, Brice. In more than one way. I don't want to let it go. I want to stay here. I want it all with you."

"You can't ask me for more than I can give. I don't have it in me to keep you. It's too painful. It's not worth it."

Clay exhaled. That stung, but he had to be patient. Brice would change his mind. The man was damn stubborn, but he would come around. Clay would have to give him more time.

"Then let's stick to the original mission. I will hang out with you until graduation. We will keep meeting in secret, and you can keep teaching me advanced skills."

"Did you have some specific skills in mind?" Brice grinned.

"Yes." Clay kissed Brice. "We need to keep going over all the ways to suck and fuck, and I need to lick everything. Oh, and if we have extra time, you can show me how to adjust a scope."

"You're not good at adjusting a scope?" Brice gave a mock cry of disgust. "I'm ashamed I slept with you."

"Fuck that noise." Clay pushed him. "And I can teach you some advanced skills too."

"Advanced skills like how to eat in my bed?" Brice brushed crumbs off a pillow and scowled at him. "No, thanks."

"Yes." Clay shoved him again. "I'm going to show you how to smile more and stop being so damn unhappy. We can read books and listen to music, and sometimes talk. You don't want to be a shell? I'll make you human."

"I don't need human lessons."

"I think you do."

"Just until graduation," Brice muttered.

"Until graduation." Clay was sure that Brice would be so into him that he would beg him to stay by that time. "That's the mission parameters. And if by graduation day you want me to stay, we can adjust to the new alterations."

"I'm not going to ask you to stay. This thing between us is only until those gears are on your wrist. I told you that."

"Is that a yes?" Clay wiggled his eyebrows. "Until the gears are on my wrist?"

"Affirmative." Brice set the wine on the floor and pulled Clay into his arms.

"I think we should celebrate this mission," Clay teased. "Especially since we just ironed out the details."

"By mutual blowjobs?" Brice licked his lips.

"I think you have a thing for that. I'll have to remember that."