sleeping

It wasn’t that his own bed wasn’t perfectly comfortable.
He wasn’t even all that tired.
He’d just needed someplace to lie down, stretch his back, and Orlando’s bed had seemed a good choice.
Warm.
Safe.
Smelling of Orlando’s shampoo.
Skin.

But the sun was so warm and he had drifted off – not quite sleeping – disappearing into confused half-dreams filled with people he knew.

At davidshaw's

Clay spends time working on the shelves for David, sanding them over and over. He doesn’t feel like sleeping. When the wood beneath his hands is silken-soft he sits down on the futon, cross-legged, unpacking his bag. He’s brought some things that David had left at Orlando’s; library books, some clothes.

Turns out that Spartipus likes bird-song. She’ll sit fascinated and look at Clay when he whistles at her, even going as far as to jump up on the futon next to him, batting at his mouth with soft paws. Maybe she is trying to catch the sound.

He’s pretending that it’s a given that David will come back. Callie always did that. She’d have set the table for two and smile and kiss him but he’d known the desperation, had been able to taste it in her mouth. On her skin. And yet she’d pretend that he was coming, that he’d just gone out for 10 minutes and would be back in time for supper.
And it had worked.

There had been a note for him at Orlando’s. From a friend of his. Named Jason. He wanted help with making a garden and Clay had decided to have a chat with him, to see if they could reach an agreement. He’d left a note for Orlando as well, telling him that he’d be staying at David’s for a bit.
He doesn’t mention the note Orlando had left for him, figuring he’ll draw his own conclusions.

He doesn’t like the thought of leaving, in case David comes back and needs company, but he decides it will be okay.

He sleeps a while, rolled up on the futon, Spartipus as a warm ball resting against his stomach. He dreams, confused dreams, where Orlando is cooking for him while David and Callie sits at the kitchen table, looking deep into each other’s eyes. Callie keeps stroking David’s cheek and it’s strange, like watching himself with her. In the dream Clay is running around outside, trying to keep the house from falling apart. But everything he touches crumbles.

When he wakes up he composes a note for David, saying that he’ll be back later. With food.
He leaves it sitting in the middle of the futon, held partly down by one of the books. Just in case Spartipus gets excited.

He leaves for Jason’s.