(Max P.O.V)

      "Clay is here!"

     I felt my head slip a beat and started silently praying to God he wasn't an asshole. I really wanted this to work for my mom, but the last thing I wanted was be roommates with some mountain jerk. Please let him be cool.

      I walked into the kitchen and spotted Clayton instantly. He was big, really big. He was bent over un-tying his boots, but I could already tell he was head and shoulders taller than me and almost two and a half times and wide. His hair was short and black except for one long section running along the middle of his head that was dyed bright red and stuck up in a way that reminded me, stupidly, of a rooster comb.

      He slipped off his shoes and looked up. I felt my eyes widen slightly. He had two black eyes blooming spectacularly on his face, a split lip that looked horribly fresh and a bruise on the bridge of his nose that was swelling slightly. Clearly he had been in a fight.

     "Jesus Clayton!" Roy exclaimed, turning from the stove and jumping before he hurried to examine his son's face. "Well...how was the fight?" He asked sheepishly.

     Clayton grimaced and turned his, rather pretty, green eyes away from his father. "I went out in the fifth. Knocked flat for thirty seconds." He groaned.

     The realization hit me quite suddenly; he wasn't some big guy randomly beating the snot out of people. He was a boxer.

     "So you lost?" Roy asked peering concernedly at his son's painful looking bruises.

      "Nope, I won. The dirty rat put iron bars in his gloves and broke his fingers when he smashed on into my nose. So I won." Clay said with satisfaction.

      Well shit, no wonder you beat to shit. You lucky your nose isn't broken." Roy said pinching the bridge of Clay's nose.

      "Oh God the pain!" Clayton yelped, shoving Roy back with one hand and using the other to gingerly cover his nose. "Damn, damn, damn." He whispered in a pained voice. He looked incredibly tired.

     Roy wasn't paying attention. He pulled a first-aid kit from under the sink and dragged Clayton's hand away his face. He, carefully, put a couple of butterfly strips over his nose and poked at his bleeding lip.

     "Nope! Done!" Clayton said smacking his dad's hand away. His smooth deep voice was filled with a definite finality and Roy didn't press further. "Hi Jill, you look beautiful today. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you." Clayton said spotting my mother from over his father's shoulder.

     "Hi sweetheart, how are you?" She asked pleasantly. "This," she said swooping down on me and dragging me to stand in from of Clayton. "Is my son, Max.

     I was right, a whole head and shoulders taller. "Hi, it's good to meet you." I said politely extending my small, pale hand to him.

     Damn this sucked, I was already short to begin with, he wasn't helping my confidence.

     "Hey, it's good to finally meet you." Clay said warmly, exhaustion tainted his voice. He grasp my small cold hand in his own, much larger, calluses, tan, pleasantly warm, hand.

     Now that I was closer I could tell he was good looking under his bumps and bruises. I wished I could wipe them away and see exactly what he looked like.

     "Clayton do you sleep tonight?" Roy asked. He nodded and I stared. That was such and odd question...like what? It was bizarr wording at least. "Go up and sleep then. You don't have to force yourself to eat with us."

     "Really? Clayton asked tentatively, but hopefully.

     Roy and my mom nodded. He sighed in relief and trudged out of the room and up the stairs.

     "Go talk to him before he falls asleep." My mom urged. She wanted badly for us to get along. "We will call you down when dinner is ready."

     "Okay," like I said, I wanted this to work! My mom deserved it. So, I trappesed up the stairs and down the hall. The door was open and I arrived just in time to see Clayton strip off his bulky sweatshirt.

     Damn...it must be something about this place, because everything here was beautiful.

     Clayton was big, I was right, but not because he was fat. He was muscular. His back facing me, he lean back and he stretched his broad muscular shoulders.

     Clay flopped face down on his bed and hissed in pain. "Ow fuck! Fuck, fuck, so much fuck." He mumbled rolling over his eyes squinted shut, holding his tender nose.

     Once again, damn... he had a strong chest, sculpted arms and abs to die for! To top it all off, he even had a graceful black and grey Celtic cross tattoo blossoming over his heart.

     He groaned, his eyes still shut, and started talking to himself.

     "I need to take a shower," he mumbled, but he made no move to get out of his bed. "Or," he said slowly. "I could just sleep and shower later... I like that one so much better."

     "Do you often talk to yourself?" I asked conversationaly.

     Clayton opened on blacked eye to look at me, his eyebrows raised. "Oh damn, how long have you been there?"

     "Since, 'fuck, so much fuck'." I said grinning.

     "Damn...I guess I really need to shower than." Clay said, pouting. Again he made no move to get off his bed. "Or..." he said slowly. "In the spirit of our new roommate-ship, you could light a candle and pretend I don't smell repulsive and I'll shower tomorrow and frebreeze the room." He asked hopefully. I laughed.

     "Sure I don't care."

     "Oh, awesome." He sighed, rolling over on his bed and hugging his pillow. "We can be friends." He mumbled sleepily.

     I smiled, I really wanted to know what he looked like. I didn't realize I was staring until Clayton said something.

     "Why are you staring at me." He asked, not opening his eyes. I blushed slightly.

     "... well-" but Clayton cut me off.

     "I don't usually look like a roster-panda. Well, maybe I always look like a rooster, but the panda thing is new."

     Damn...one: I had the feeling I was going to be thinking that a lot, and two: I think he could read minds.

     "So what do you look like? I didn't see any pictures of you hanging up."

     Clayton chuckled softly, he was almost sleeping. "I don't know," he mumbled, his exasperation almost  lost in his exhaustion. "I take all the pictures of me down, but I think there is one in my bedside table."

     I opened the table drawer and rummaged through the contents before I unearthed a rather tattered picture.

     It was of Clayton, he was really handsome. He had a nice face with a strong jaw and beautiful green eyes. There was another person in the picture too. He was slightly shorter, bit just as stocky with dirty blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. He was looking...lustfuly, at Clayton, who was laughing, his legs wrapped around the other boys waist.

      My brain jammed for a moment. It processed the picture slowly and in stages. First it registered how cute Clayton was without two black eyes. Next it registered Clayton's legs around the other boy, then I vaguely noted the lustful look on the other boys face and his hands on Clayton's legs...and then, and only then, did my poor, slow brain put two and two together.

     Was Calyton...gay?

      It was an interesting notion. He didn't look the type, but screw that. Sterotypes were just that, Sterotypes. "Clayton," I asked innocently.

     "Mmm?" He hummed sleepily, his mouth partially open, his breathing slow.

     "Are you...now don't take this the wrong way." I said quickly. I knew how touchy people could be on this subject. "This is an honest question and I'm not trying to offend you. Are you gay?"

     Clayton waved his fist slowly in the air, flicking his wrist back and forth.

     "What are you doing?" I asked perplexed.

    "I'm waving my gay pride flag." He murmured, as if this was obvious.

     "How gay?"

     What a stupid question I could have slapped myself!

      Clayton actually lifted his head up and opens his eyes to look at me before sinking back into his pillow. "How gay?... are there different levels of gay? I don't know how gay I am." He said the exasperation definite in his voice now. " I'm gay, just gay. You know, anal, buttsex, ysoi...penis," Clayton mumbled rather incoherently. He mumbled something completely incomprehensible but trailed off. I leaned in a bit closer and realized he was sleeping.

     "Well, that was the most interesting conversation I've had in a long time" I said shrugging.

*** hi people!! What do you think of Clayton!?!?!?! What do you think of the second chapter? Please let me know! Vote, comment, whatever! Much love!***

Also! I do not own that picture, I'm not sure who did it, but that did a beautiful job!