(Max P.O.V) I woke up the next morning, a little cold. I rolled over and saw Clayton in exactly the same position where I left him last night. His mouth slightly open, just in his sweatpants, hugging his pillow and just laying on top of his blankets.

     How was he not absolutely freezing? It was colder than a witch's titty in a brass bra in this house. I got up quickly and pulled on the warmest sweater I owned and hurried downstairs.

     Roy greeted me in the kitchen with a cheerful wave and pushed a plate of French toast into my hands.

     "Max," he said his gruff voice very serious. " I need you to eat these. The people in this house eat a lot of food and you are so thin, it scares me. You aren't going to survive the winter up here if you don't gain at least ten pounds."

     I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised. "Ten pounds?" I asked seriously. "How...Roy I'm not that skinny. I have abs and I do eat, I'm just not six feet too damn tall, with a beard and the ability to fight off bears with a spork."

     Roy laughed. "Well after breakfast grab a spork and we can go kill a bear for lunch." He joked. "What do you think of Clay?" He asked pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on front of me.

     Seriously Roy was amazing, he knows I need coffee. If my mom hadn't gotten there first, I would have married him.

     "He is interesting." I said sipping on my coffee to wash down my mouthful of French toast. "Does, does he have a disorder?" I asked realizing I just sounded like an ass. "I mean a sleeping disorder." I said quickly when Roy frowned at me. "Like yesterday you asked him 'if he sleeps tonight'. It was just a bizarr question and he dropped off while we were...talking, and hasn't budged an inch since."

     Roy nodded. "Clay sleeps one night every three days. He has been like that since he was six, so when he finally does fall asleep, he falls asleep." Roy said grimacing.

     "Cool, and weird." I said. "Since he was six? Has he tried taking pills?"

     Roy nodded again. "Yeah, we've tried everything. He is fully awake, happy and lucid for three days and then around eight-forty at night he just crashes. A couple times a month he goes into a state of self-comatose and doesn't wake up for twenty-four hours. Its like his body is trying to catch up on all the lost sleep by binging." Roy explained putting more French toast on my plate.

     "Dude! Stop putting food on my plate! I'm only as big around as your arm!"

     Roy opened his mouth to retort, when "King for a Day" by Pierce the Veil started blaring from a leather jacket. Roy fished in the pocket and found the phone.

     "Good morning my sweet." He said answering the call. I glared at him; this basterd better not be cheating on my mom. "Yes, he is sleeping...what are you wearing? Oh got it," my mouth dropped open.

     Does Maxie Verde have to cut a bitch? "I will. Okay, tomorrow it is. Love you too. Bye!" He sat the phone down, casual as you please. He looked up and noticed me glaring daggers at him.

     "Roy? What the fuck was that?" I asked trying not to sound accusatory... and failing, I might add.

     "Relax Max. This," he said handing me the phone. "Is Clayton's phone. That was his friend Emmy. I practically raised her, she is like a second daughter."

     I sighed. "Oh," I said slightly embarrassed. Woops. I was being an unintentional ass this morning, but Roy was smiling at me. He ruffled my hair, putting even more French toast on my plate.

     "Sorry I scared you, but don't be embarrassed. Your looking out for your mom." He suddenly grimaced. "Oh shit," he gave a sort of crooked smile. "If I was you, thinking what you were just thinking, I would have already laid my ass flat. I was a violent, protective teenager, with four younger sisters."

     It was my turn to laugh. When he was a teen he was probably big as Clayton. He could kill a bear with a spork! I, at least, could kill a spider with my foot, as long as I had shoes on, and it wasn't to big.

      Hmmmm....maybe I was a pussy. Naw, spiders were cold blooded killers.

      "Alright I'm leaving. Work sucks. If Clayton isn't out of bed by eleven, will you wake him up?" Roy asked draining his coffee and standing up.

     "Yeah sure." I said, watching as he put one last piece of French toast on top of the stack on my plate. He smiled, pulled his shoes on and left.

     "Was that dad?" A groggy voice mumbled from the doorway leading to the living room.

      I looked around and saw Clayton, clean and changed, running a hand over his cocks-comb.

     "Yeah he just left. Do you want some French toast?" I asked, holding my full plate out to him. "Your dad is determine to make me gain ten pounds, so I survive the winter. I'm not a cold winter person, so exactly how cold does it get here?" I asked a tad nervously.

     "Score!" Clayton said happily accepting my plate and starting to eat.

     His eyes were really back and purple this morning and the bruise spreading across his nose and on his chin were also darker.

     "Six feet of snow is normal here, soooo..." Clayton said trailing off. "I'd invest in some wool socks, sweaters and a nice pair of boots."

     "Brilliant, even the snow is taller than me up here."

     Clayton laughed.

     "I'm serious. It is insane up here." I said imploringly. "Oh yeah, your phone rang, your dad answered," I said quickly. "Someone named Emmy."

     Clayton's face light up and he took his phone back from me. He sent a quick text and started eating French toast like a starving man.

     "Oh~God yes," he moaned through a mouthful of French toast. I looked at him him a bit startled. "Foodgasim!" He said his eyes half closed, a look of ecstasy on his face.

     "What. The. Fuck?" I asked.

     Oh shit, he was insane! Hide your kid, hide your wife!

     "I love food. Food is life. I love food more than people." He said thickly.

     "Clearly." I said trying not to laugh.

     "King for a Day" started playing again and Clayton answered his phone.

     "Top of the morning sugar tits. What's up?" He asked smiling.

     I looked at him from over the top of my coffee cup, my eyebrows raised. I thought he was gay?

     "No just a couple of bruises...no...haha no Emmy. Its just black eyes. Riiiiiiight." He drawled slyly, shoving more food in his mouth. "Bitch." He said happily, hanging up.

     His dad says I love you, and Clayton said bitch...interesting, it might take me awhile to get used to this place.

     "I thought you were gay?" I said off handedly.

     "I am." He said simply. There was silence between us for a moment. Clayton put down his fork and looked up at me.

     "You're not totally freaked out by me being gay, are you?" He asked seriously. "You're not going to turn out a homophoib that is scared I'm gonna rape you in your sleep or anything right."

     Wow he was straight forward. I was a little caught off guard, by his blunt questions.

     "No, of course not. Actually I'm bisexual, so, I won't rape you, if you don't rape me."

     Clay grinned. "Deal."

     "Dose your family know?" I asked, just to be safe.

     "Oh god yes." He said half laughing. "What about you, does Jill know?"

     "Yeah, I figured it out a few years back, and she was completely fine with it."

     "That's good." Clay said gently. ", because it really sucks when people try and tear you down for something you can't help."

     We looked at each other from across the island. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me shiver slightly. W-was...was he, gay bashed?

     That was ridiculous if it was true, for a number of reasons. The foremost reason being, Clayton was stacked!

      I let my eyes flick over his perfectly honed, muscular body. His black FFDP shirt was tight over his muscles.

     Seriously he was a boxer, if anybody was going to give him shit about being gay he could just knock their blinking block off.

     Back in the city I was never really got bashed. I was just called confused, which was actually really annoying. I wasn't confused, it's just that gender doesn't  matter to me. I feel you don't fall in love with someone because of their gender; you love someone for their personality, for their heart, and their soul.

     What really sucked was that I had lost quite a few relationships, with guys and girls, because they were worried I was fickle.

      I wasn't a cheater, and I wasn't confused! When I committed myself to somebody I was serious. Love is one thing you don't mess around with.

     "Are you alright Max?" Clayton asked waving his hand in front of my face.

     "What? Oh yeah, I'm, fine... just spacing out." I said blushing. Woops. I probably shouldn't do that, I might be labeled crazy.

      "Alright well I'll be in the back room. Do you need anything?"

     "Naw, I'm just going to un-pack." I said as Clayton put the plate in the sink.

     I went upstairs and un-packed slowly, thinking I could learn to love it here. When I got bored I found the land-line and called Penelope, I didn't get cell service here. We talked about nothing in particular for half an hour until she had to go.

     I hung up and frowned out if the glass wall in the living room. It was peaceful, too peaceful. I stood up heavily and wandered to find Clayton.

     Maybe we could do something to kill the boredom. I had no clue what there was to do here, way out in the middle of nowhere.

     I found him by following the sounds of loud music down the hall. Across from the back porch door there was a...gym. It had a bench press, weights, mats and a lot of boxing stuff.

     Clayton was beating the hell out of a poor punching bag that was more duct-tape than canvas.  The music, "World on Fire" by Slash, was blaring out of an old style radio. Clayton was shirtless in just a pair of shorts and whatever those cool looking boxing boots were called.

     "And we are wrapping up thirty minutes of requests with Slash" World on Fire" " a voice said happily out of the radio. "Now I get to play whatever I want! Whoop whoop! Unfortunately I'm torn between "Viva la Vida" by Coldplay or "Barbie Girl" by Aqua. So I'm going to play them both, coming up right after this!" He said as commercials began to play.

     "What station do you listen to?" I asked as Clayton paused in his relentless punching.

     "Max, I didn't want to say anything, because I knew is would come as a shock, so I'm  going to be completely honest with you." He said his expression grave and he looked sadly at me.

     What? Oh God what happened! Shit this house was built on an ancient Indian burial mound!!!

      "This is the only music playing station we get here. Its Brutal Bradly.  He is pretty cool; the guy lives, breaths and worships music. He also doesn't have bad taste." Clayton said stretching his arms over his head.

     "You only have one radio station?"

     Damn! It was worst than an Indian burial ground!!!

     Clayton laughed at my expression of clear abject horror.  "Welcome to the sticks! So far form civilization we have to have supplies flown in during the winter!"

     I must have looked stupid because he laughed again.

     "Oh God, the culture shock is setting in. Do you want to sit down?" He asked, grinning.

     I rubbed my forehead, letting it all sink in. "I am probably going to die up here. What do you even do up here!?!"

     "I box, read, eat, hang with Emmy, hunt. There are actually a lot of things to do. You wanna go for a swim?" He asked eagerly.

     "Swim? It's like fifty-five degrees outside!"

     "Exactly." Clayton said with a smirk. "That is warm for us."

     Damn... I was way out of my league here. I had the feeling Clayton was deriving pleasure from my obvious horror, but he went back to punching his bag, smirking.

     Brutal Bradly's voice sang out over the radio again as the commercials ended. "Oh God yes! Because I know how much everybody loves commercials!"

     You could practically hear the sarcastic smile playing across this guy's face. "And back to the lifegiving music! I must apologize to everybody first because I will not be playing "Barbie Girl" my mom called to inform me that she would, and I quote 'smack the shit out of me' if I played that song. So! On that brutal note!" He said with an indecent amount of happiness. "I'm going to play "It's Raining Men" instead! FUCK THE POLICE!" He whooped as the song began to play.

     I laughed at Clayton grimaced at the radio. "Shit his mom probably will smack the shit out of him now." He said chuckling.

     "I can't believe he can get away with saying 'fuck the police' over the radio."

     "Yeah?" Clay said in mild disbelief. "Wow and that's pretty tame for Bradly. If you listen at night just before the station closes at midnight, every other word is a cuss word. He gets away with it because him and his six older brothers set up and run the station. When is older twin brother Grant and Jake were the disk jockeys you could hear the two of them get into fist fights before Bill smacked them apart."

     "You live in a very violent area up here." I commented conversationaly.

     "Survival of the fittest. You live up here  too now, don't forget." Clayton said steadying the punching bag, panting slightly, sweat beading on his oh so sexy chest.  "Come on, let me show you around the property." Clayton said pulling his shirt on and wrestling his gloves off.

     Together, Clayton and I wandered around outside. He showed me the trails in the woods, I stood closer to Clayton than I normally might have, just in case a bear ridding moose with an AK-47 jumped us.

     We walked along the lake and I put my hand in the dark, clear water out of curiosity and I instantly regretted it.

     The water was DAMN COLD!! I snatched my hand quickly back and pulled it into the sleeve of my sweater.

     "And your dumb ass wanted to go swimming." I said scathingly, shaking my head. He just rolled his eyes.

     He took my partially frozen hand in both of his large warm one and rubbed it, occasionally lacing his finger with mine until it was warm. It was so weird...my hand seemed to fit into his so perfectly.

     "Baby," he said smirking.

     I felt my cheeks heating up, but when he let go of my hand it felt so cold and lonely.

     All in all, Clayton was a cool guy. I was glad we were going to be living together. He was just nice to talk to and he was funny and, never judge a book by its cover, he was one smart son of a bitch.

     He told me about his sister Amanda who was studying to be a biological psychologists and she sounded, personality wise, a lot like my mother, but all he had to say about his brother Franky was...

     "He is an insufferable asshole and I can't stand to be in the same vicinity as him." Clay said coldly. Ouch, the ice in his voice cut me.

     I decided not to press the subject and was about to suggest another topic when he turned to face me on the steps leading up the porch, looking serious.

     "Max, don't let him know you're bi. Actully, just avoid him at all costs. He is close minded to strives to break anybody he thinks is different."

     "He can't be that bad." I said reassuringly, but unable to keep the slight quaver out of my voice.

     Clayton's face darkened. "Trust me, he is not easy to get alone with. He really isn't that great a person. Hopefully you won't have to met him for awhile."

     ***good evening my lovelies!!, well evening for me xD sorry about the wait I was trying to find time between studying for my sociology exam. Whew, I hope I pass (●__●)
     tell me what you think of the story please!!! What do you think Clayton's deal with his brother is?!? I would love to hear from people!!!
     Keep reading vote, comment, eat food!
                    Much Love \^~^/