Dont read this, this is just stories I want to read

Baby, then you're in luck

This was the fourth time this week that this man had rented out a room. Clay knew that running a no-tell motel would attract plenty of interesting people but the boy specifically caught his eyes, he always checked out the same room, the same days of a week, every week, for at least a month. Clay usually didn’t question the actions of his guests a lot, some were obviously sex workers, a few quite open about it, some made a lot of noise but the boy was always silent. It was weird, he looked like he could be a sex worker, his body slender, soft brown hair, his eyes were a soft hazel brown, the colour of coffee. He always looked neat and put together, clean clothes in and out, only ever having a backpack on him. Clay could for sure tell that he wasn’t a traveler and he wasn’t homeless. That left either a sex worker or just a weird guy. Clay watched as the guy walked out the lobby, his backpack slung over his shoulder casually.

The next day he left, Clay smiled at him, checking him out as he walked out only muttering a small thank you. Clay knew to expect him in two days, he would do the exact same as he had all the other days, check in quickly at 11:00, only talking to be polite, stay the night, and leave at 8:00. Nobody would claim to be visiting him, he was always alone.

11:00 came around, the boy wasn’t there. Clay paced until 11:30 when the door swung open, the boy walked in, slightly soggy from the rain that was pounding down outside. Clay’s shift was over in fifteen minutes and so he checked the boy in, smiling at him.

“Hey, uh,” The boy looked at him nervously, “I was wondering, when does your shift end?” Clay blinked for a second, he had a british accent, he’d never noticed it.

“Uh, fifteen minutes.” Clay answered, not really knowing where the boy was going with this.

“You wanna come to my room? You’re just really cute and I’ve wanted to talk to you and I never brought myself to and I-”

“I would love to,” Clay smiled, not knowing if there was sexual intent behind the boy’s words, if he was a sex worker Clay could have some fun and if he was a murderer then what was the worst that could happen? He ends up on the floor of the room with a knife in his chest? That wasn’t exactly something he wanted to happen but he figured it was highly unlikely. Plus the guy was cute and rather hot so even if Clay’s luck was against him he wouldn’t mind being stabbed by him. The boy nodded, taking his key and blushing as he walked away.

Fifteen minutes later Bad took his place and Clay made his way up to the room. He knocked, the boy almost immediately opened the door.

“Hi, uh-” The boy hesitated, not knowing his name.

“Clay.”

“Clay.” He smiled, “Come in.” Clay stepped in. “So uh, well this is embarrassing but, you’re really hot and well maybe, I know you don;t know me and I’m just some random guest but-”

“Are you asking to have sex with me?” Clay straight up asked, not wanting to dance around the topic, “or am I getting stabbed?” The boy’s face was red, he stuttered for a moment before nodding. “Is that at the sex or stabbing?”

“S-sex.” he stuttered, flustered. “I saw you a while ago and you’re just really hot and I couldn’t stop thinking about you so I came back.”

“Stalking eh?” Clay cocked his eyebrow jokingly.

“No no no no.” the boy tried to explain himself but before he could figure out an explanation for his actions Clay had grabbed his wrist.

“Stoplight safe words ok?” Clay’s voice dropped an octave, the boy nodded, “Come on darling, I need words please.”

“Y-yes” He breathed.

“Now, George,” Clay remembered his name from when he’d gotten the room the first time, “Tell me what you want.” He stepped forward slightly, George being backed into a wall.