The next morning, Sam was aroused from sleep by a hot, wet mouth on his balls, which was a great way to wake up on a Sunday morning, or any other morning for that matter.

Since they'd spent a full night together a couple of weeks ago, Sam had fallen into a routine of staying over every weekend at Clay's place. Whenever they went out on a stroll or to a nearby pub for drinks, Sam never insisted on staying back, and Clay didn't ask him to. There was a thin, invisible line to their relationship that was never discussed but both of them were very much aware that the line was blurring.

With each new day they came closer and closer to falling over the edge together. Sam was constantly aware of it and he was happy that he was enjoying every second he was in Clay's company, and he didn't want to ruin things by trying to change anything.

"You do know how to make my morning." Sam sounded drowsy from sleep as he threaded lazy fingers through Clay's hair underneath the duvet and allowed the palm of his other hand graze over Clay's sharp stubble. Though Clay's face was hidden by the covers, Sam could feel the hollow of his cheek with his fingertips and imagine how Clay looked with his mouth stretched around his balls. The mental image turned his lazy arousal into something sharper and exciting.

Clay pulled off to lick all the way up Sam's length and nuzzle the throbbing head for a moment. "Good morning."

Clay's voice was muffled and Sam finally pushed the duvet down in impatience so he could see him. Clay's emerald-colored eyes glittered up at him, and his face was flushed. He looked hot.

"I could get used to this all day long." Sam leaned back against the headboard with his hands behind his head, sighing in content. "Do I get breakfast afterwards too?"

Clay's reply was a tug on Sam's balls and a growl which silenced Sam, and let Clay get on with it.

Clay was a pro at this now, so Sam just laid back, groaning at all the funny things that hot mouth was doing. Clay sucked him off slowly, teasing but equally efficient, knowing all the right places to flick with his tongue and nuzzle too. He circled Sam's hole — which was still sensitive and slippery from being fucked the other night — with his fingertip pushing Sam over the edge. Clay swallowed, humming in satisfaction.

When Sam recovered from his orgasm, Clay laid bareback, ass up in offering to Sam as he stroked himself.

Knowing fully well what to do, Sam kneeled and brought his lips forth to rim Clay pink hole, running his tongue in circular motions till Clay saw stars.

When he was finished, Sam sucked and licked him clean until Clay pulled away and scooted beside him to kiss him.

They made small talk for a few minutes, Sam's growling stomach interrupting and making them laugh.

"Daddy's hungry" Sam said, nibbling on Clay's earlobe. "You need to feed me fat babe.”

"Jesus, hell no. I don't want to get squashed by your weight when we're making love. Daddy needs to get to the gym instead."

Sam whimpered, doing his best puppy dog eyes. "But I'm hungry, and I have football in a couple of hours. I need to keep my strength up if you want Daddy to bring home the trophy. Besides, it's your fault I'm worn out."

Downstairs, they sat at the old Oakwood table in Clay's kitchen and ate platefuls of bacon, toasted sandwiches and waffles, washing them down with glasses of orange fruit juice because Clay was out of coffee beans.

"So, what are your plans for today?"

Sam usually left Clay's apartment on Sundays and didn't see him till Tuesday. They'd fallen into a routine of seeing each other only on Tuesdays and Saturday nights except recently that Sam had begun staying over every weekend. But Sam tended to sleep on his own bed every other night and he tried to ignore how much time he spent thinking about Clay when they were apart, but he supposed it was expected since they hung out a lot these days. It didn't mean anything, but Aria kept implying he was smitten anytime she opened that big mouth of hers and his mother had a knowing look in her eyes anytime Clay's name popped up in a conversation.

Sam wouldn't be surprised if he found out that they'd already planned down every detail of his wedding to Clay behind his back. This wasn't the first time they were playing cupid. but they were just seeing what they wanted to see. Sam adored Clay, they enjoyed each other's company and they had great sex together. They were perfectly happy with the no-strings attached arrangement, and it didn't need to be any more complicated than that. Sam figured he'd just enjoy it while it lasted.

"Nothing much to do really" Clay replied as he chewed from his last sandwich. "Might go out for a stroll later after I'm done with my writing update."

Clay didn't have much of a social life, Sam noticed, and the red-head wasn't the least bothered about it. Although his separation from Tina had been peaceful without any bad blood between them, it still left Tina entitled to most of their mutual friends, and personally, Clay would very much prefer to knock himself out with the reel of a shotgun than give socialization a shot. He hadn't seen Tina for weeks, ever since Sam moved in, despite telling the blond everything was amicable between them. But Sam could see it would be difficult at first.

Clay occasionally went out for a drink or two with some of his writing pals, but Clay was one of those men who seemed self-sufficient and happy in his own company most of the time.

"Why don't you head out and come watch me play?" Sam suggested. "Your cheering would motivate me honestly. You could be my very own cheerleader."

"I'll pass. I've never really fancied jumping up with pompoms." Clay shuddered, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, I bet it wouldn't sound as half-bad as you make of it when you eventually do it." Sam smirked. "I'd say you'd look cuter in a short skirt with pompoms and your hair's long enough for a ponytail."

"Ew. Freak." Clay shook his head in mock-disappointment. "I still don't get what I see in you."

"My enormous penis and the amount of pleasure it gives you?"

"Thank goodness you didn't say modesty." Clay scooted his chair back and stood, picking up their empty plates and placing them in the sink. “But I guess I could make time to come watch you chase a ball on a pitch. The prospect of watching your dick flap around is very appealing, I have to admit."

“Freak,” Sam beamed. He loved the idea of having Clay cheering him on, on the sidelines.