Molding Clay

Clay had a very strange dream that night... Not to mention vividly surreal. It isn't even the kind you may expect someone to have after a night like he just had...

He was eight, and he was at the park near his home. The scene was straight from his memory, the trees, the benches, the playground equipment, even the birds and their many songs were the same. He was laughing, holding hands, and spinning around in circles with his mother. She was something else that hadn't changed at all.

Clay's mother was a shorter, petite lady that wore sundresses everywhere she went, today was no exception. In this case, she had a large, matching, white, straw hat with a pink bow around the middle resting over her long brown wavy hair. She was classy and beautiful. She was twirling barefooted with her young son while singing a nursery rhyme.

"Ring-a-round the rosie,

A pocket full of posies,

Ashes! Ashes!

We all fall down"

And they both fell down. A younger Clay giggling incessantly as they did, cheerily requesting to do it once more.

"Again Momma! Again!"

His mother smiled lightly towards him, and then looked towards the setting sun in the distance. Her smile faded. She looked back at the boy, and spoke in that melodious voice he missed so dearly.

"Alright, Clay. One more time, but it's getting dark now, and I need to go soon."

"Ok Momma, just one more!"

She gently clasped his hands in her own, and they began to twirl once more. She started to sing again.

"Ring-a-round the rosie,

A pocket full of posies..."

The younger Clay had his head thrown back in laughter as he spun around, his mother's hands clasping his own tightly, preventing him from falling... Too tightly it seemed... From his spiraling view, he saw the sky darkening. But far too quickly for dusk...

"Aaaa-shes..."

Something was wrong, his mother didn't sound the same any more. He tried to look at what was happening, but he started spinning even faster... He couldn't pull his head back forward from the force.

"...aaaaaa- sshhes..."

He was getting scared. Why was his momma scaring him? The last line was barely a scratchy whisper. He tried crying for her to stop spinning so he could look at her. She did not. Not yet anyways.

"we all... fall... down."

Her death grip released. He fell backwards immediately from the inertia and hit the ground hard. His head was hurting from the fall and dizzy from the spinning. It took him a moment to orient himself enough to get his body upright to see what was wrong with his momma. He wished he never had.

She was on the grass... laying on her back with her head turned towards Clay, her cold, glazed eyes staring at nothing for all eternity. Her mouth was ajar and yellow bile leaked from the part in her lips. She was very much dead... The same way she looked the day Clay found her a few short years later. His eyes watered and his heart stopped at seeing her like this again. He couldn't stop staring at her leaky mouth. His gaze was frozen on her lips for what seemed like hours. And then she quietly whispered.

"I'm sorry Clay, I love you."

Clay awoke lightly sweating and panting heavily as he jerked up from his nightmare. It was 8 in the morning. He was alone in his Sir's bed. Alone wasn't exactly how he wanted to feel at the moment though. As if he was coming to the kid's rescue, Coach Duncan stepped through the door wearing only a pair of shorts a moment later. He paused when he saw the kid was awake and sitting up in the bed.

He was carrying a wooden serving tray with a large plate, a small glass of milk, and a cup of steaming coffee placed on it. The plate had two eggs, 4 strips of bacon, 3 sausages, and a biscuit with white gravy on top. Clay didn't think he could manage to finish all of that, but the gesture and smell was amazing. The ball of panic lodged in his gut from the nightmare loosened almost entirely as the coach smiled towards him from the doorway and spoke happily.

"Well damn, was hoping to wake you up to this and a kiss... Ah well, since you're up, I made brekkie!" He stepped forward and walked to the boy's side. He carefully set the tray on the bedding over the kid's lap, before gently leaning against the side of the bed and giving the kid a quick peck on the forehead.

"I know, I know, it's a cliché... but I figured you'd need the energy considering last night. Not to mention your workout routine..." Clay had picked up the fork and started cutting into one of the eggs, stopping as he heard his Sir speak that last part. He glanced over to the man and raised an eyebrow.

"Workout routine?" Coach only smiled on boldly.

"Don't worry about that just yet, focus on eating before it gets cold. I'm surprised you're up so early, I figured you'd still be out after that pounding you took last night... Sure fell asleep quickly enough, Didn't think you'd even make it through the shower at one point hahaha!" Coach rested a hand on the boy's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze through the sheets at the word pounding, making Clay's member jump just a bit as he did so. Clay thought to himself that it really wasn't even fair how easily that man could get him all fired up.

"Oh I definitely still feel last night coach..." He felt overworked and drained for sure, but also like a dark cloud had now passed over his heart. He felt refreshed, he felt relaxed... He felt renewed. He sat his fork down after he finished the first egg and went for a strip of bacon.

"...But I loved every minute of it." He blushed at his statement the tiniest bit before his Coach replied.

"I'm glad I wasn't the only one." He gently rubbed the thigh some more, and smiled before he spoke again.

"Eat up, we've got things to do." His Coach patted his inner thigh lightly before he stood up and left the kid to his "Brekkie."

Twelve minutes later, Clay was walking the tray back to the kitchen. He'd actually managed to finish everything but the coffee, surprising himself at how hungry he really was. Now he felt stuffed and bloated from the big meal instead. Coach Dunc met him as he crossed the threshold to the kitchen to take the empty dishes, smiling down at the compliment to his cooking.

Clay sat down in one of the dining table chairs and stretched heavily as his abused muscles struggled to catch up with the rest of his body. Coach joined him in the chair beside his after he finished putting away the dishes. He again flashed his big smile at the boy before he spoke.

"I'm glad to see you finished your breakfast Clay. Let's go get your sets in and put that protein to use." Clay just looked at the man with a raised eyebrow.

"My what now? Sets? You want me to go to the gym?" Coach chuckled a bit at the remark before explaining he had an entire spare room filled with weights and a bench. He didn't see any good reason he shouldn't push the kid to get healthier. Especially considering the boy had volunteered to work out with him only two days ago. Clay felt he really couldn't find a reason for not doing it either, laziness aside, so he submitted and agreed he would.

Coach had a well planned workout routine for the kid. He had him do multiple lifts with the weight he knew the kid could handle from the previous Saturday. Squats, pull-ups, push-ups, and even some sit-ups for his core were all incorporated. Before he was finished, he felt as exhausted as the night before. Coach Duncan eagerly coaxed him on as he tended to his own routine beside him. Nearly an hour later, they ended with bench presses again.

Neither Coach nor Clay could prevent themselves from thinking about what happened the last time they were in this position, and both showed some excitement at revisiting that moment. When Clay had finished his last set and the bar was secured on the bench above him once more, he commented about needing a drink. Coach slyly suggested he had to piss if the kid was up to it, grabbing his hardening dick though his shorts to emphasize the point. Clay just smiled and agreed. Why the hell not?

Clay propped himself up on his elbows to reach the coach's needed height as the man walked to stand beside the boy. He pulled his shorts down and his swelling member bobbed up lightly in front of the kid's face. Clay smiled and grabbed a hold of it, speaking quietly before he placed the large tip inside his mouth.

"Try to keep it inside this time? I don't feel like taking another shower right now..." Coach just smirked and agreed. He'd keep it from getting too messy.

Coach steadied his boy's head with a hand on each side. He began adjusting himself so the kid's lips had a good seal, and with a "Here it comes, boy," a heavy flow of piss streamed into Clay's mouth once again. Only this time, he didn't hesitate or spill a drop. He simply swallowed gulp after gulp of his salty treat until the spurt died down to nothing. Clay added a heavy slurp to the head as it popped free from his mouth afterwards, glancing up into the mischievous face that was glowering down at him.

"Thanks Coach, I needed that."

"Good boy." He received two light pats on his cheek along with his praise. The coach finished his own sets while the kid adjusted the weights and spotted for him. When he was finished and the weights were finally racked again, Coach aimed a question at the kid resting on the vacant bench as he toweled off the light sweat he'd built up.

"So, it is Spring Break, and I'm sure there's something you'd like to do with your vacation from school besides roll around the bedroom with an old perv like me. Have any ideas?" He'd paused to look at the boy, the towel hanging loosely over his left shoulder.

Clay let his mind drift back to the nightmare from earlier. He couldn't place it, but it seemed relevant and important somewhere deep in his soul. He hadn't dreamed of his mother in years, then all of a sudden this...

Coach saw turmoil behind the boy's eyes. He was thinking heavily on something, he could tell by the way the kid spaced out and kept his gaze pointed downwards at nothing in particular. Coach had his suspicions confirmed when the kid spoke.

"I think I'd like to go see my mom. Would you like to meet her, Coach?" Clay turned and focused his eyes on the Coach's own as he made that offer.

"Yeah, kid, I'd be happy to meet her."

It took the pair roughly 15 minutes to get dressed and to the truck, partly due to Coach's kissing on the boy, distracting him as he was trying to get the clothes on. They drove for another 20 minutes to a grassy cemetery on the outskirts of the smaller town. Clay pointed out the closest place to park and they both got out of the GMC.

"She's over here." Clay motioned to his right with a tilt of his head before the pair began treading lightly to the marker of her grave. The brick-sized, ivory, stone was nothing special, it simply bore her name and her date of birth before the dash and the date memorializing when Clay had discovered his mother's body. His father didn't really want to pay for even this small of a tribute.

Clay knelt to the left of the headstone and sat with his legs crossed. He placed the three flowers he'd chosen from a floral store on the way directly beneath it. They were radiant, yellow sunflowers. Her favorite. Clay sat in silence for a moment as his coach stood behind him with his arms crossed solemnly. When he did begin to speak, it was directed at the grave marker, and his voice was barely more than a whisper as the words parted from his lips.

"Hey, mom. It's been a while... Sorry about that, just have a lot going on lately... Oh! This is Coach Dunc, he's been pretty good to me lately. I thought you might like to meet him."

Clay turned back to the sentinel behind him as he spoke the latter part. Coach just smiled at the boy gently and then nodded to the gravestone.

"Nice to meet you Ma'am, you've got one hell of a good kid." Clay smiled lightly at the praise and returned his attention to where his mother rested. He was silent for a moment, then let his head hang down a bit

"God I miss you... I wish I could see you... Wish I could hug you... There is so much going on that I wish I could talk to you about..." At this point, Coach felt a bit like a third wheel. He figured the kid probably wanted some privacy for his conversation, so he spoke gently with an empathetic smile on his face.

"I'll give you two some time alone, kid. Take as long as you need. I'll wait in the truck. Clay nodded at the man in understanding, and watched him turn and walk away. He appreciated it when he did things like that. It seemed the man was good at knowing when he wanted him close and when he wanted some space. It was one of the things that was making him fall so fast for the older man. Which he very much was.

Clay didn't mind admitting it to himself, but he was still afraid to speak it out loud, not that there were any people he could talk to about it anyways... Sure, he could talk to Coach about anything so far, but not this...Not yet. It was another reason he wanted to come see his mother, she listened... She would always listen... Clay only wished she could still reply at that moment. But someone simply listening was better than keeping it inside, so he turned back to the marker and let her do just that.

"I know, I know, what the hell right? Yeah, I'm sleeping with my high school coach... I'm gay mom... I'll give you a few moments to roll over down there." Clay had expected that to sound funnier, but his dry humor wasn't helping him this time. He just sighed, and continued.

"I know everything about it should be wrong, but it doesn't FEEL wrong. At all... He's into some weird shit, but I think I am too... I'm honestly not sure... It's possible I could just be that into him. Like, REALLY into him though, Mom. I know it's probably just some "Lack of a father figure," bullshit, but he feels so right. I feel safe... I feel warm at night... I don't have to be afraid to let my guard down...I'm happy just when he's in the same room as me... My walls have been crumbling mom, and that scares me... I didn't want anyone to find out about what I thought was just another flaw, some other way I was a fuck up in life... That I couldn't even like girls right... but Coach doesn't make me feel like a fuck up at all..." His voice trailed off. He felt like he was rambling. A small piece of himself even felt kinda silly just sitting there and talking to a pile of dirt and bones, but speaking to anything about everything did make him feel better. So he changed the subject.

"...Dad's getting worse, and that's really saying something. He hasn't even been to his shop in months, his head mechanic is practically running things... The drinking is non-stop now. First thing in the morning, last thing before bed... I hate him, Mom... I hate him and I don't see how you EVER could have loved him... Not as shitty as he was to you... What he made you do to yourself... But maybe I'm falling in love with a toxic man too though, I don't really know. That thought scares me also..." He felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. That pissed him off. He hated crying. He had done more crying in the last three days than he had the last three years. Why now? What was so different? He was perfectly fine bottling things up this long... Nightmares or no...

Clay reached a hand up to swipe his tears from their perches before they could fall. He was tired of crying. He felt like crying should have been buried with his mother in this cemetery. Finding your overdosed mom cold and dead on cheap vinyl flooring when you were 12 was a reason to cry. Not over some teenaged boy crush.

"I wish I was stronger, mom... I wish you would've been stronger too, even if just so you could be here to tell me what I should do... But you aren't here anymore, no matter how much I wish that you were... I am though. I'm still here, and I won't waste that time crying anymore, Mom." Clay stood up. His gaze stayed on the marker as he did.

"The next time I come to see you, I'll tell you all about it. I'll tell you all about everything that happens... But for now, Mom, I really just hope you like your sunflowers." Clay brought his fingertips to his mouth, and he lightly kissed the ends before bending down and placing them gently upon the small white gravestone.

"I love you." He turned towards the pickup truck and began walking back to it. He made it a few paces before stopping and turning to look over his shoulder to his mothers final resting place one last time.

Halfway back to the truck, he noticed the coach was now on his phone speaking to someone on the other end. Clay only made it close enough to hear the final words before the call was ended.

"...it would be nice to see you guys, I'll see what the kid thinks, Alan. Holler at you later, man." Coach ended the call and looked back towards the kid. He flashed a smile that helped to melt away some of the overwhelming sadness the boy felt at finally airing some of those long bottled emotions. Clay smiled genuinely back before the man motioned to the truck and they got in. Coach Duncan turned to the boy and began.

"Get what you needed done?" His voice was layered with genuine care.

"I think so... thank you for bringing me, Coach." Clay let his head drop as he finished. Coach gently brought his right hand to the boy's chin and pulled it back up to stare into his eyes. The setting sunlight illuminated every bit of hope, sadness, longing, and even the growing love for the older man in the kid's eyes. At that moment,, Coach couldn't believe how amazingly lucky he could be to have a boy so beautiful and strong. Clay may not have realized it, but Coach knew the kid was a fighter. He'd already been fighting a living hell his entire life... That was one of the things he loved about the boy. One of the many, he admitted.

"Thank you for letting me come, Clay." They met over the console of the pickup with a lasting, passionate kiss in the dimming light of a Texas dusk. Coach brought a hand up to delicately cradle the back of the boy's head as they did so. When they did finally part, Coach asked the kid how he felt about something.

"So, that was my friend Alan on the phone, we go waaay back. He's a great guy, and him and two of his buddies will be passing through this area tomorrow night. They wanted to know if I'd like to meet up for dinner and drinks... I kind of told them a little about you and now they REALLY want to meet you kid. I told them I'd see if you were alright with having them over for dinner tomorrow? They would stay the night in the guest bedroom, but if you aren't comfortable with other people knowing who you really are yet I understand. Completely up to you, Clay." Clay thought about it for a few seconds.

"That sounds nice, Coach. Maybe I'll even get to learn about some of your dirty little secrets, huh?" Regardless of how confused and frustrated he may have been a few moments ago at that grave site, the kid now bore his own devilish smirk at his remark. Coach had an uneasy feeling for a brief second at having his signature move used against him, but he could only really smile back at the boy.

"Great, I'll let them know. I'll be sure to warn them not to scare you with too many details though." He flashed Clay a wink at the end of that statement, and shortly thereafter they were heading back home.

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As always, feedback is appreciated guys! hope you have been enjoying the story thus far!