Clay felt the tingling sensation of Georges tounge against his. He pushed him against the wall, moaning, as he kissed him harder.
"Clay," he said. "Clay."
"Clay!" Shouted his mother. "Your going to be late for school, get down here."
Clay woke with a start.
"Wh-what the hell,"he stammered flinging the bed sheets off.
He lent down to get his bag, slung under the bed, when he felt something sticky.
"Ah shit,"he groaned, walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.
Once he'd got his bag ready, he walked out the door, a slice of toast in hand. At the bus stop he met Nick, his beastfriend.
"Hey Clay, done anything nice this weekend?" Nick asked leaning on a fence, not looking up from his phone.
"Wh- excuse me," stammered clay.
Nick looked up from his phone, a questioning look on his face.
"I just asked if you'd done anything this weekend?" He said with an even greater puzzled expression planted on his face.
"Oh, oh right, er, I mean I went to hockey and..." Clay said, a pink blush infiltrating his cheeks.
"And what?" Nick asked as one of his eyebrows lifted up.
"Oh there's the bus!"
