Chapter Text
This was one of the most mind-sapping dinners Clay ever had the unfortunate chance of attending. He wasn’t the only victim in this blatant crime either as his sister sat across the table from him moping about in her mashed potatoes and stewed collard greens while they both listened to Clay’s mother's monotonous droning. His dad, ever the helpful creature, was as equally fixated on the food on his plate as his sister was and only gave the occasional, “Mhm,” to keep his mother’s one-sided conversation alive. He had come under the pretense of “discussing an important matter” but that had yet to come into conversation and he could already see his precious Netflix time slipping away as this dinner drew on and on.
“Have you seen Mary Ann’s lights yet? You should go over to see them, they are so pretty. She has truly outdone herself this year,” his mother rattled to Clay. Sadly, he sat across from her at a table adorned with a frilly white table runner and equally tasteless chairs, so feigning hearing her was an unfavorable option.
“No, Mom, I haven’t yet, but I’ll be sure to see them sometime soon,” Clay forced himself to reply. He just wanted to go home. This dinner was physically draining him because his parents -- read: his mom -- obviously brought him over to talk about something , but it seemed they wanted to wait till the end of this grueling torture to bring it up. He knew he would be ruining his mother’s perfectly paced setup, in which she would drop subtle hints all throughout dinner until she finally spilled the beans on why she made him come over here, but he could afford to cut his losses. He came over here with only one real motive, to satiate his mother’s desperate attempts to get him to come to family dinners. He always had an excuse, every time just in case, but alas, tonight his plans got cancelled at the last minute and somehow his mother mysteriously found out and insisted that he come over. After all, she had been wanting to deliver the “important news” to him for sometime. What really happened is that Clay made the mistake of bragging to his sister over text that he was going to binge watch the Great British Bake Off that night and not interact with their parents. Soon after he got a text from his mom with an invite to this special circle of Hell. Thinking back on that moment, Clay glanced across the table and he swore he saw Chole smirk at him. That bitch, if she was going down, she was going to take him with her. He couldn’t help but be a little proud.
“So, what important news did you guys have to tell me?” he muttered.
Clay’s mother perked up at the sound of that, obviously mistaking his desire to rip the metaphorical bandaid off for eageringness. The first of many fatal mistakes he would make tonight.
“Well I’m so glad you asked Clay!” she said, “I don’t know if you know, but Mary Ann’s daughter, Hailey, the one who’s studying to be a nurse at the University of Florida, the one who you used to play with all the time as kids,” she made eye contact with him as if to anticipate an acknowledgment of his prior acquaintance with this girl.
He begrudgingly gave a quick nod.
Joy spread across his mother’s face as she continued, “Well, she’s coming back into town for the holidays, and Mary Ann and I were thinking that maybe you two could give it go? You know? Like, you could take her on a little date to Guido’s down on 7th Street. Mary Ann and I think you two would be a perfect match!”
Note to self: next time, learn to keep your mouth shut, Clay. How could he respond in the most respectful way possible that didn’t make him seem like an asshole for not wanting to take this random girl, wait, not random, some estranged girl he apparently knew from his childhood, on a date?
“I appreciate the suggestion, Mom, but I’d like to just spend the holiday with the family if that’s okay,” he replied with a huff. Good answer, Clay, nice, respectful, and to the point.
Apparently his mother did not think his answer was nice, respectful, or to the point as a slight frown began to form on her previously shining face. “Clay,” she spoke sternly, “I think you should really think about this before saying no. Hailey is a very nice girl, very pretty too, and I think if you just gave her a chance, you’d really like her.” His mother sat her fork down on her now finished plate, creating a stilling silence in the room. He wished he could enjoy this silence, but Clay just sat there underneath the glare of his mother wishing he could be on his couch with his cat watching Paul Hollywood talk about bread.
His father, ever the opportunistic bastard, quickly stood up, uttered a quick, “Let me get those dishes for you guys,” and sped away to the safety of the kitchen.
Not even a second later, his sister stood up and announced, “I just forgot I haven’t finished my math homework yet. I’ll go do that now,” and sprinted up the stairs to her room with such vigor Clay questioned as if the speedrunning skill ran in the family. He grinned at the thought.
Clay wished he could escape like his spineless family members did, leaving him to the jaws of the quite unforgiving kraken-mother. Unfortunately, he would have no such luck.
“Mom, again, I appreciate the offer, and I’m very sure Hailey is a lovely girl. It's just I’m not looking for a relationship right now, so there’s no point,” Clay responded.
“Are you ever ‘looking for a relationship’ Clay?” his mother clipped back. Damn. She went right for the jugular. “Not once have you brought a girl home to meet us. Not once have you even told us that you’re dating anybody. So, I don’t think it’s too much to ask of you to go on this date with this rather sweet girl just to see where things go, okay?” She worded it as if he had no say in the outcome.
“Mom. I don’t want to go on this date. End of story,” Clay argued, wanting to end this conversation as resolutely as possible.
“Well, I don’t want to be old and crinkly by the time you decide to marry some girl. I want to be able to hold my grandchildren,” she answered with the same old tired phrase.
“What if I don’t marry a woman?” Clay retorted, feeling his anger rise to the surface.
“Oh dear god, here you again with that whole half-gay thing,” she groaned. Clay knew he had done it now. “I know you think you like men, but I have yet to see any evidence of that. I have, however, seen evidence that you like girls. Pretty girls, with long hair, in dresses, why, I can even remember when you were little and how you went on and on about Hailey and how you wanted to marry her someday. Don’t you still want that, Clay? To get married to a nice girl and not a man?”
She reached her hand across the table to hold Clay’s own hand, but he quickly slipped it out from underneath her own and placed it in his lap. If she was hurt by his actions, her face did not show it. Instead, she gave an exasperated huff. They had had this fight before, several times actually. Clay came out to his family as bisexual years ago, and while his family was supportive, his mother simply only chose to see that he still had an attraction towards women.
She was pushing so hard for a girl, any girl, because...well Clay wasn’t sure as to exactly why, but he assumed it was grandkids. But couldn’t he and his future potential husband adopt? What was so wrong with that? Again, that had been rehashed in fight after fight that Clay simply gave up arguing at this point, now only bringing it up to attempt to validate himself. It wasn’t too much to ask.
“Darling, listen,” he internally gagged at the use of the word ‘darling’, “I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to be lonely for the rest of your life. I want to know that someone will be there for you when your father and I are gone from this Earth,” she softly spoke.
There she goes again. First, she refused to believe her son was into men, and second, with her stupid ‘I’m only looking out for your best interests Clay’. What a load of literal bullshit. She had been harping on him to get with someone, some girl , just so she can brag about it with all her other Wine Wednesday gal pals. If it were a man, then she’d become a social outcast, and she could not have that. All she wanted was a new status in her little societal circle. He was finally able to connect the dots when he was on his second helping of mashed potatoes because earlier in dinner she kept going on and on about Sandy’s daughter who recently got engaged. So, apparently, the ladies started having book club at her house under the guise of needing as much time as possible for “wedding preparations”. He didn’t understand much about white Southern mother cliques, but he knew that if you were a host, you were equivalent to that of a god. He couldn’t imagine what a new relationship with a little Miss Perfect would do. No hate to Hailey, but he imagined that if he’s pressured into this date, then he would be susceptible to a lot more things with her, and the next thing he’d know would be standing at the altar with her saying “I do’s”.
Oh God. He can’t do that. He can’t marry Hailey. It’d only fuel his mother’s fire for years to come. He’d probably get coerced into marrying her after a year of dating and then have babies not a few months after. Then he’d probably have to settle down so they could afford an actual house, and he’d get some sad nine to five desk job. Then he’d raise his son, because of course it would have to be a son, with his dutiful wife, go to his kids’ football games, pressure his son into dating some sweet girl, meet his grandkids, move into a retirement home and then die. That’d be his life if he agreed to dating Hailey, and he just couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t even have the chance to try a relationship with a guy. No way, no how. Thus, Clay said, what he thought at the time, was the most logically, soundproofed idea possible. In retrospect, he could’ve just excused himself from the table and never come back, but mistakes are, of course, meant to be made.
“I can’t go on a date with Hailey because I’m in a relationship right now,” Clay clamored out in what felt like two seconds.
His mother’s mouth sat agape for a moment before she quickly snapped it back and began to bombard him with questions, “What’s her name? What does she do for a living? Is she coming over for Christmas? How long have you two been dating? Why haven’t you told us about her yet? When you get in a relationship I expect you to at least have the decency to tell your mother about it, Clayton.”
Now, it has already been previously established that Clay was very poor, terrible even, at quick rational decision making. So, it should be to absolutely no one’s surprise as to how he tangled himself up into this horrid predicament. Clay’s mind was racing with one thought and one thought only. What is a valid reason for not telling your mother your current relationship status? So Clay uttered the only words that could possibly complicate his current predicament even further.
“Uh...well...that’s-that’s because it’s uh not a uh she but a um he,” Clay spoke barely above a whisper, scared of the response himself. I mean, at least she would have no more reason to think her son wasn’t attracted to men anymore. Clay soaked in the victory in all its short-lived glory.
This time when his mother's jaw dropped, she was not quick to regain her composure. She sat in a shocked state locking eyes with Clay to confirm that what he just said was true. Clay was afraid to back down from his statement for fear of the reparations, so he met her stare back, letting her absorb the ‘realness’ of the events.
After a few moments of silence stretching far too long, his mother pulled herself together in one big breath, smiled the fakest smile he had ever seen, and simply asked, “Well, Clay. While this certainly is a surprise, will your boyfriend,” her tone was forced, “be joining us for Christmas?”
You see, this is when the victory began to turn sour which meant, to be short, that Clay was no longer winning. And Clay liked winning. So it should be noted that Clay could have made up literally any other excuse than the one he was about to say. He could have said his ‘boyfriend’ already had plans with his family for the holidays. He could have even said he was too far away to come visit Clay’s family. Hell, he could have even said they had only been dating for a short while so it’d be too much too soon; that would’ve solved his mother’s previous query on why he hadn’t told his family about the relationship yet. But no. Clay was full of awful, stupid, treachorous impulses where he simply had to say the first thought that ran along his mind because he simply had to win.
“Of course,” came Clay’s shaky reply.
“Great. I can’t wait to meet him,” his mother responded curtly.
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” he questioned, a foul look hidden in his eyes dared her to plead yes.
“No,” she smiled that sour smile, “I don’t imagine it will be.”
“Who wants desert?” his father said, suddenly coming into the room with a steaming hot pie, but upon seeing the tense layout of the situation asked, “Wait, what’d I miss?”
Oh that lucky bastard and his aloofness, how Clay wished he had that now. Following in his sister’s previous footsteps, Clay took this opportunity to toss his parents a short thank you and goodbye as he sprinted out the door and into the safety of his car. He put his vehicle into reverse and sped away as if the house were a twister itself, which, for the most part, was honestly true.
Eventually, Clay arrived at his humble abode racing to the door unlocking it then locking it behind himself as he walked into his bedroom and flung himself onto the bed to just dream the events of the evening's dinner away. He had no idea how he was to solve this issue though. He needed a date for Christmas. He absolutely could not show up empty handed, not after how his mother reacted. Surely, out of nothing but pure spite itself, he’d be forced to attend that date with Hailey and down the swirling drain his life would go. No, he could find another way. He’d just have to think of someone willing to go along with his stupid, desperate plan. Someone that he already knew and could convincingly pull off being in a gay relationship with.
A number was quickly dialed, and before the other even had the chance to utter a friendly ‘hello’, Clay began his spiel, “So, essentially, I went over to dinner with my parents tonight which was really just a cover for an attempted coup to try to get me tied down into a relationship where I’m sad and married at like 25. I don’t know what came over me, but the only excuse I could think of that wouldn't have offended them, because let’s be honest, if I brought up the bi thing she’d continue to deny it and still make me go on this date, and I couldn’t have that. Anyway, the only excuse I could think of was that I couldn’t date this girl because I was already dating someone else. However, I still needed to cover my tracks because my mom was super suspicious as to why I didn’t tell her I was in a relationship in the first place and I said it was because it was with a guy and she asked if he was coming over for the holidays and I said yes like a dumbass and, in short, I fucked up and I think that if the internet believes we’re fucking from short clips and casual shit we say to one another then it’ll be super easy to convince my parents that I’m in a relationship with you and I won’t have to marry Hailey,” he took a deep breath, his lungs heaving.
“I want you to understand three things,” started the hushed, yet mildly concerned, reply, “One, you are extremely messed up in the head to think of being gay as a logical excuse in this situation. Two, I don’t think a date automatically leads to um, I don’t know, fucking marriage. And three, how much are you willing to pay me?”
“Does your round trip plane ticket plus $1,000 work for you?”
“I’m joking, drop the 1K and instead just pay for all my Uber Eats for, like, the following month.”
“Wait, are you for real?”
Was George for real? He couldn’t possibly think of accepting Clay’s insane offer that was literally sprung on him seconds ago. It would be totally absurd. He couldn’t, shouldn’t , say yes to this. Even though Clay did sound very desperate. He sounded so desperate. He wouldn’t call unless he was actually in need. George wasn’t going to actually agree to this, was he? I mean, the worst that would happen is he'd get a fun story out of it. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head questioning as to whether or not those were his real intentions for agreeing to this. Almost as if they were made for each other, George decided to act upon that terrible instinct that led Clay down his current path in life. What absolute fucking morons.
“Understand that I am only doing this because you sound desperate and my life is very uneventful right now. I need spice.”
“Oh my fucking god thank you so much George you have no idea how much this means to me and I promise I won’t let you down and --”
“--Dream. Go to bed. We’ll talk more about this in the morning,” George yawned loudly.
“I, uh, okay. Good night, George,” Clay said.
“Good night, Dream,” George replied before ending the call. What exactly did he just agree to he wasn't quite sure, but he trusted Dream, he was sure that this would all turn out just fine. Just fine.