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Clover’s having a good night, but since he gained his powers, they’ve all been good. After years and years of misery, girlfriends that never worked out, jobs that always fell out from under him, an endless train of misfortune that kept ploughing through his life at every opportunity, he’s finally getting his reward.
The Felt’s celebrating tonight. Clover’s at the bar, getting good and drunk, and the rest of the Felt is spread out over the place. Itchy’s plastered and honed in on Die, both of them on stools on the other end of the bar, and though Clover can’t hear what Itchy’s saying, the way Die’s shoulders are slumped in on themselves says it all. Some of them are dancing out on the floor with girls in black and white, while most of the others are crammed together in a booth, a steady haze of cigarette smoke wafting out of it.
The bar's super packed with carapaces, both the black and the white variety. Clover always thinks it's funny they've got different names, even though they're completely identical, except for the colour of their shell and eyes. The names are funny too: Prospitians and Dersites. They remind him of comic book names, only they're real, and they're aliens, and they're all from some weird chess game.
He pulls the cherry out of his drink and pops it into his mouth, looking around for Cans. Clover’s got luck, but in a busy place like this, he still likes keeping Cans by his side just in case. That and Clover just really like spending time with the big guy. He’s such a nervous nelly anytime Clover does anything dangerous and Clover enjoys having Cans fuss over him.
The truth is, and Clover will never ever say this where anybody else can hear him, Clover likes Cans. He really likes Cans. It's funny. Back home, he always chased after girls and never got anywhere, and figured it was just because he had bad luck. But now that he's got good luck, he gets it. It's not that he has bad luck, it's just that he doesn't really like girls. He likes men. He really likes Cans. It's a doomed crush, the sorta thing that even all the luck in the world can't fix, but he's okay with that. At least he gets to be Cans' friend, even if anything more is off the table. Right now, that mostly means having Cans take care of him, which Clover always really likes. It makes him feel special when Cans pays attention to him and him alone, and beats up anybody who starts trying to push his luck, and carries him home when he gets too drunk.
Cans is nowhere to be seen, and that's kinda worrisome. Clover quickly finishes his drink and slides off of his stool. He slips through the crowd of dancers, around Sawbuck doing the Peabody with some tall white carapace, and out to the hall leading to the washrooms. Clover peeks around the corner, grinning when he spots Cans’ wide back. It looks like he’s talking to some Prospitarian, a big guy with arms that look like they could squeeze somebody’s head off. Clover heads around the corner, prepared to grab onto the back of Cans’ jacket and just climb him like a big brick wall.
Except as he gets closer, he hears what they’re talking about and that brings Clover to a stop, “-no one’s taking you home, you know I’m interested.”
Cans laughs and Clover’s never heard him laugh like that before, his voice almost shy when he speaks, “Maybe. I’ve got to take care of the others but...” He trails off, and there’s so much promise in what he’s not saying.
“Just come and find me,” The Prospitian flirts with Cans, not even being subtle about it. Clover just can’t stop staring at them, especially when the Prospitian leans in and Cans does so too. They don’t kiss, but it’s a near thing. Clover feels a tight ball of emotion build up in his chest, a mix of jealousy and anger, and just a little lust. Maybe a lot of lust, “I’ll be near the bar, or bouncing somebody off the pavement.”
“I’ll keep my eyes on you,” Cans promises, and Clover’s still staring at them when Cans turns around. Cans spots him and goes a little pale before squaring his shoulders, “Clover. Something wrong?”
“No! Nothing’s wrong!” Clover giggles nervously, fighting very hard to keep from blurting out a ton of questions while the strange man is in the hall, “I just thought I’d come looking for you! Looks like you have a new friend! That’s exciting!”
“Looks like you need to handle this.” The Prospitian just gives Cans a friendly pat on the shoulder, though it sure is a lot more than just friendly from the way his hand lingers, “You know where I am.” He passes by Clover, giving him sort of look before continuing on.
Then it’s just Clover and Cans in the hall leading to the washrooms and coat check. Clover sort of nervously fiddles with his hands, all those questions still bouncing around inside of him. Cans looks terribly serious, and that just makes Clover want to ask even more questions. As soon as Cans takes a step forward, they all come bubbling out, “Are you queer? I didn’t know you were queer! You don’t look like a queer! You’re all big and… not fey looking! You’re really queer?”
Cans crosses his arms over his chest, sounding far more serious than Clover’s ever heard him sound, “What’s it to you if I am? You going to turn this into something?”
“What? No! No, I wouldn’t do that! I mean it is funny and all, you being so big and a gangster too! It’s like a joke, only I guess the punch line is your life!” Clover giggles nervously, barely paying attention to what’s coming out of his mouth, only that yes, Cans is gay, “You really like guys like him? His arms were huge! I bet he’s got more muscles than brains! I always figured you’d like smart girls! I guess you like the opposite!”
He narrows his eyes and turns around, heading for the exit. Clover mentally goes over what came out of his mouth and smacks himself in the head when he hits the punchline part. Stupid, stupid! He runs after Cans as fast as he can barely keeping up with Cans’ long legs.
“Wait! Cans!” Clover grabs onto his tailcoats and yanks, but when Cans whips himself around, Clover’s yanked behind him, and he ends up behind Cans again. He drops his grip and slips between Cans’ legs, looking up at him, “Wait please, don’t go! I didn't mean it! You know I didn't mean it! I just lost control of my mouth! You know how I just talk and talk and things come out and I don't really mean them, not really, it's just-"
"It's just that you do," It hurts when Cans speaks so coldly to Clover, "I need some air."
Cans steps outside and Clover follows, wringing his hands. It's quiet outside, nobody around but them, and Clover lurks in Cans' shadow, trying desperately to find the right thing to say that won't send Cans further away. He finally settles on assurances, "I won't tell anybody. If that's what you're worried about, I won't say anything. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die."
"I'm not-" Cans glances down at Clover, his voice a little too loud, and when he speaks again after a pause, it's much quieter, "I don't care if they know. They'll find out sooner or later. It's nothing here. None of these people care if- they don't give a damn who you like to sleep with. So I don't give a damn if you run back and tattle on me. Go ahead and laugh."
"I'm not laughing at you!" Clover covers his mouth, feeling those damned nervous giggles swimming around in his stomach. Cans doesn't look like he believes Clover, so he repeats it again, mumbling around his hands, "I'm not laughing at you. I. I just didn't know. I... I couldn't tell."
Cans narrows his eyes, as if waiting for Clover to deliver the punchline to an especially cruel joke. But when he doesn't come, he stops looking at Clover like he wants to kill him, "You're the only one who couldn't."
Clover just stares at Cans, trying to make sense of this turn of events. Cans isn’t the one everybody knows is gay. It’s Clover. Even before Clover realized that maybe he wasn’t straight, everyone else seemed to know. He’s heard the word ‘faggot’ more times than he likes to admit. But Cans is different. Cans is big and strong, and the sort of guy that everybody admires, or is at least a little afraid of. They wouldn’t suspect him, and if they did, nobody would say a thing.
“No they don’t!” Clover insists, still trying to make sense of it, “Nobody thinks that about you! You’re not the kind of guy who everybody questions!”
“That’s right Clover; nobody ever thinks that a man with a college education in literature and a shelf full of poetry is hiding something. Nobody ever questions a man who doesn’t make crude jokes about women, or never, ever takes them home with him.” Cans bunches his hands into fists, and Clover finds himself suddenly afraid that Cans will try to punch him.
Clover flinches back, even though he knows people can't hurt him anymore, even though he's got all the luck on his side. It's just that Clover's spent so many years not having anyone to protect him, and he can't help it. There's a twist over Cans' face for a moment, self-loathing and self-hatred, and he just squeezes his fists and breathes in and out through his nose. Clover tries to find something to say but for once, words utterly fail him.
Cans steps away from Clover, putting more space between them as if to prove that he would never hurt Clover. The distance just makes things worse though. When Cans finally speaks, his voice is almost level, “Everybody knows. And if they don’t, then they suspect it.”
“They don’t! There is no way that they would know if I didn’t!” Clover looks up at Cans, and the look on Cans’ face, that angry cagey expression, hurts Clover a little, “I would know! I’m- I’m- I get called names all the time! You’ve heard Fin and Trace, and Matchsticks call me a faggot!”
“I’ve heard them,” Cans makes a face, and Clover remembers all too well how Cans always the one who gets up and walks away when the jokes get out of hand. Clover always stays and tells the loudest jokes, the harshest jokes, because if he says them first, then they can’t, and then nobody can tell them and look at him and smirk because they know. Except, now it becomes so obvious that Cans thinks that Clover believes what he’s saying when he tells those jokes, “If you want to go running back to them to give them a real target-”
“No! I would never do that to you! Never!” Clover grabs onto Cans pant legs, and after months of staying quiet, years of keeping his trap shut, he finally finds the courage the force out the words he’s been keeping bottled up inside of him, “Look at me! I- I’m like you. I’m queer too. I don’t like women either. I’ve spent years trying to figure it out, and I never could and. And now, Cans-”
“That’s not funny Clover,” Clover has never heard Cans sounding and looking so angry and upset, not unless he was not punching somebody into entirely different calendar years, “Don’t. Just… don’t. Leave me alone.”
He shakes Clover off and walks away and Clover stares at his departing back. This is the bravest confession of his life and Cans is just walking away from him.
Clover runs after him, runs faster than he has in ages, and grabs onto Cans’ tailcoats, scrabbling his way up Cans. He’s a big man, and though he reaches back and tries to grab Clover, Clover’s quicker, “Clover! Get off of me!”
“Nuh-uh!” Clover’s hands find purchase in the clothes where anyone else would slip and fall, and handful by handful, he climbs up Cans’ back and up to his shoulders, perching there for just a moment. Cans grabs onto him, pulling, but Clover holds on tight, going hand over hand around Cans’ collar.
“Clover, let go of me right now, or I swear to god I’ll-” Cans doesn’t get a chance to finish his threat. Clover kisses him. It’s a bit awkward, since Cans is so big and Clover’s so small and his lips can't quite cover Cans’, but Cans goes quiet anyway like he was muffled, his mouth dropping closed and his hands letting go. Clover keeps holding onto Cans’ collar, his feet digging into Cans’ jacket buttons to stay upright. He presses his lips against Cans’ again and again, sweet, brief butterfly kisses that make his point in a way that his words continually fail to.
His fingers start slipping, but before he can fall, Cans’ hands come up, holding onto Clover and lifting him up. Clover settles his hands on Cans’ face, “When I asked you if you liked guys like that, I just. I wanted to know if a little guy like me had a chance or not. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything else.” There’s been a lot of emotions running over Cans’ face tonight, but this one is new and slightly frightening because Clover doesn’t know what it means. He starts babbling, anything to keep things from getting worse, or to keeps Cans from walking away, “I just. You know how I say things. They just come out of my mouth and I don’t really hear them until afterwards and then everyone thinks I’m an asshole but I’m not. Okay maybe I am but I don’t mean to be one. I just want to make people laugh because when they’re laughing at the things I’m saying, then they aren’t laughing at me and maybe there’s not a lot of distinction there but it’s a big one and-”
It’s Clover’s turn to go quiet when Cans leans in and kisses him, and Clover just holds on tighter to Cans’ head. This is more than he could have ever hoped for. Clover had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to never be noticed by Cans. Only maybe it turns out that he doesn’t have to be resigned to anything.
They don’t exactly pull apart or anything. Clover just leans up and presses a kiss to Cans’ nose, smiling nervously when Cans chuckles, “You really have to ask if you have a chance?”
“Well.. yeah,” Clover doesn’t wring his hands, but only because they’re on Cans’ face and he doesn’t want to stop touching Cans, “It’s not like I have a lot of experience here. I don’t know how we’re supposed to let each other know we’re queer without alerting everybody else. Is there a handshake or a signal or something? Can you teach me?”
“There’s no way of knowing just by looking,” Cans sighs, and Clover’s a little disappointed to hear there isn’t something, “We just… guess. Sometimes you’re right. Sometimes you’re wrong.”
"Am I right? About... who you like?" Clover anxiously asks, wanting so badly to hear Cans say yes and dispel all confusion, "Or do you only like big Prospitians."
"I like a lot of people," Cans smiles softly, almost shy, "I like you. And... it's less that I liked him as much as..."
"As?" Clover tries not to fidget with nervousness. There are lot of things Cans could say here and not all of them are good. He hopes Cans goes with a good thing though.
"As... I was looking forward to actually going home with someone," Cans is a little bolder when his answers, but the slight red flush on his face betrays the shyness still lurking beneath, "It's... been a while."
"Oooooh," Clover can't stop the grin on his face, "I cockblocked you! I'm sorry! But really Cans you could do better than him! His arms were too big! He would probably accidentally squish your dick in one meaty fist!"
"Clover," Cans tries to sound like he's warning Clover, but he can see that spark of amusement in Cans' eyes.
"You deserve a better class of guy! Somebody that won't make you admire his weird ugly muscly arms all night! Like me! I've got no muscle at all!" Clover flexes and Cans snorts, not managing to keep his poker face up. It's all the encouragement he needs and Clover keeps going, "I'm a much better choice! And then, then, you can tell everybody-"
Cans must see the pun coming because he shakes his head, but he can't stop grinning, "No Clover, don't you say it-"
"Tell everybody that you're... getting lucky!" Clover spreads his arms in a ta-dah! fashion and Cans just bursts into laughter, his head sagging down in resignation. It's easy to up the ante and turn the jokey-flirting into something a little more serious, a touch cheekier, "See! That's why you should choose somebody like me!"
"Somebody like you, huh?" Cans gets himself back under control, looking at Clover semi-seriously. There's a blush in his cheeks, and it only gets more intense as Clover leans in towards Cans. Cans tips him away from his face momentarily, "I'm not usually this kind of guy. I don't do hook-ups."
There's a joke on the tip of Clover's tongue, but he sees that look in Cans eyes and crams it back down, going for sincerity instead, "I've never had anything that lasted longer than two weeks, except our friendship. This is kinda scary for me too. But! How are we going to find out if we'd be good anythings if we never try? Let's see if we can even have sex first, and then everything else can sort itself out."
He looks hopefully up at Cans, who glancing around and then back at Clover, this thoughtful but worried look on his face, "What if it doesn't? Sometimes these things don't just work out."
"It'll be okay," Clover assures him, stroking Cans' cheek to calm both of their nerves, "I've got all the luck. It has to work out good for us."
"No, just for you," Cans presses his lips together. He's got such a stern face but Clover doesn't let it bowl him over. Clover wants this. He's wanted this for quite a while. Sometime after he and Cans became friends, and shortly after Clover realized why he always had such bad luck when it came to finding anybody to sleep with, he had realized that he was actually attracted to Cans, "I just... I don't want to ruin anything."
"It won't. I swear," He crosses his heart, and though Clover had done that plenty of times before, this is the first time he's really meant it.
"Okay," Cans' answer is quick and rushed, nervous but excited too, "Just this once. And if it doesn't work out-"
"We'll still be friends! And if it does, then we can figure that out!" Clover assures him. He brings his mouth in again, pressing a whole string of kisses along Cans' lips before pulling back, "Let's find some place where other people aren't."
Cans nods, and starts heading to the right. It takes Clover a moment to realize what's going on. He titters with excitement as Cans unlocks the van and they climb inside. Clover's set on the seat and he starts pulling off his things while Cans gets in behind him, tugging the blackout curtains over the windows around them. By the time he turns back to Clover, Clovers' got his clothes off, and he stops dead. His cheeks are faint red, and Clover looks up at him, eyes wide and excited.
"Clover," He sits down besides Clover, and his hands hover near, clearly not sure if he should touch Clover, "You're so small-"
"And you're so big!" Clover slips under his hands, climbing into Cans' lap and sitting down right on top of his groin. He can feel Cans get hard, his flesh firming beneath Clover's hands and legs. Cans' breath catches in his chest as Clover unbuttons his pants and works them open, and then Clover's does too as he realizes exactly how big Cans' dick is, "Oh my god, you really are big all over! Somebody must have been popular with the boys!" He sing-songs, and Cans goes even redder.
"I don't know how we're going to do this," Cans admits. Clover tsks. This isn't the first size difference he's dealt with. Okay, usually it's woman who laugh at him because his dick is tiny, but Cans isn't laughing, and when Clover settles his hands on Cans' dick, pulling it out of his trousers, he actually moans into his hand.
"I can think of lots of things to do!" Clover tells him, wrapping his hands around Cans' dick and starting to stroke him. He's got to rub against the closest side with his body, since his hands can't fit over the whole thing, but it seems to do the trick since Cans makes another soft noise around the palm covering his mouth.
Cans' struggles out of his jacket, and as he makes his way down his shirt, Clover decides to see exactly what he can do to get Cans worked up. He's not sure he can put his whole mouth over Cans' dick, even just the top, but he can sure as heck make it feel good anyway. He leaves one hand behind to stroke, but he brings the other up to assist. It's easy to roll the foreskin down and rub his fingers along the tender flesh of Cans' head. Cans chokes, a shocked "Oh my god Clover-"
"Oooo you liked thaaaat," Clover teased him, finally back in his element. He palms the head of Cans' cock and rubs it gently, and Cans makes the most wonderful noises. The temptation is too much. He leans in and licks the head with quick but thorough swipes, like Cans is a giant lolly. Clover keeps rubbing his body against Cans' shaft, hands stroking in their separate sections, one on the long firm flesh, the other over top the sensitive head. And Clover keeps licking, tasting pre-come and delightful heat. Cans' head falls back on the seat and he just gives up on undoing his shirt, settling for moaning helplessly instead.
Clover tries to figure out where to go next while he licks his way along the head of Cans' cock. He wants Cans' cock inside of him, but that's just not going to happen. And putting his own dick inside of Cans seems pointless. He's not entirely sure what to do next. None of the crude jokes actually prepared him for this moment, or how exactly it feels to hold another man's cock in your hands, or to see him slowly coming undone by your attention.
"Clover, keep doing that," Cans begs, and that solves that for the moment. Clover titters and grinds up against Cans' shaft, his own cock hard and happy to be rubbing over anything. He presses his mouth here and there on Cans' shaft, sucking gently and watching him shudder. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Clover."
He decides to take a risk and opens his mouth as wide as he can, trying to see exactly how much of Cans' dick he could fit. The truth is not that much, just part of the head. He's never tasted anything like this, and his tongue quickly works over the slit while the rest of his tries to suck. Maybe he can practice and be better in the future. He could give Cans a real blowjob. Cans really seems to like this one though, his moan echoing through the car.
Clover's not expecting it with Cans grabs onto him and yanks him off the dick, "Hey! Wait!" He tries to say, but Cans just holds him away with one hand. The other wraps around Cans' dick and he strokes it quickly, panting and straining, and then coming with a shocked sound. Clover watches with fascination and envy as Cans comes on his belly, utterly coating his half-buttoned shirt. The hand holding him flinches and twitches, but it never clenches shut and hurts Clover.
Only when he's done does Cans set Clover down, looking down at his belly, "S-sorry. But I didn't want you to get hurt," Cans explains, and then pulls the remains of his ruined shirt over his head, wrapping it all up in a bundle with the mess in the middle.
"Even when we're having sex, you can't stop fretting!" Clover climbs over Cans, stretching up to reach his face, "I could have handled it! You can't hurt me!"
Cans picks him back up, holding him gently in the palm of his hand. Only this time, his thumb slides between Clover's legs and begins to stroke, and Clover's the one who gasps, "Maybe. But we'll leave that for next time. Right now, I'm taking care of you."
"Okay, if you insist!" Clover tries to keep talking like normal, but all he can focus on is that he's being touched by somebody else, and that somebody else is Cans, and that Clover can still taste Cans in his mouth. Excited giggling with punctuated moaning is the only appropriate course of action.
He brings Clover up higher, his big mouth breaking out into a smile. Clover smiles back, his hands seeking out his chest and rubbing at the nipples there. The little extra sparks of pleasure make everything so much better. Cans' voice is so soft when he speaks, "I haven't done this is a while. Don't mind if this isn't all that good."
"You're doing fantastic, don't worry about it," Clover assures him.
"Not this... I mean... this." He smiles again, and his meaning becomes clear when he pulls Clover forward, and suddenly Cans has his mouth wrapped around Clover's cock.
"Cans! Oh!" It's Clover's turn to be shocked and stunned, and to just make dumb incoherent statements. Cans' mouth is so hot and wet, and he sucks on Clover in the best possible way. His tongue slides over Clover's cock and Clover squeals, his hips jerking into Cans' mouth.
Cans doesn't seem to mind, actually giving Clover's bottom a little push to do it again. Clover does so, and his hands grab onto Cans' cheeks, holding tight as he begins to thrust into Cans mouth. He can hear Cans chuckle softly, and then his tongue curls over Clover and Clover can't help himself when he whimpers.
"This is so good, you're doing so good," He forces out, because he wants Cans to know that he's got nothing to worry about when it comes to quality blowjobs. The suction is just right, not too hard, not too soft, and Clover presses his cheek to the top of Cans' head, his cock slipping in and out of Cans' lips, "Aaah, oh this is amazing! I've wanted to do this with you for ages!"
The hand on Clover squeezes a little, ever so carefully. One finger strokes down Clover's back, resting just at the base of his spine. Clover thinks about how it would feel if Cans put one finger inside of him, and just the thought is too much. His hips speed up and Cans sucks a little bit harder, and Clover squeezes his eyes shut as he comes. There's not as much to come out of him, not the way there was with Cans, and Cans just swallows it all easily. Clover's breath comes out in shudders as that wonderful glow just radiates through him.
Clover lays limp and loose in Cans hands as Cans pulls him away from his mouth. He smiles shakily at Cans, who returns it, and leans in to kiss Clover. It's a bit awkward, but they manage to make it work anyway, sweet partly open-mouth kisses that move ever so slowly. Cans presses the final kiss against Clover's forehead, "Was it okay?"
"It was so good," Clover just wants to curl up on Cans' chest and sleep there, but he's too tired to move, especially when Cans is holding him so perfectly, "I was okay too, right? Even though I couldn't give you a real blowjob?"
"You did give me a real blowjob, and it was exactly what I needed," Cans points out. He turns and leans against the side of the van, settling Clover on his stomach. While Cans gets his pants done up, Clover just sprawls over Cans, soaking in the heat from his skin.
When Cans scoops up Clover's clothes and offers them to him, Clover does his best to ignore them, snuggling against Cans' chest. He has no interest in getting dressed and going back to the bar so he can watch the others make asses of themselves, which says a lot because that's usually one of his favourite things to do. All Clover wants to do right now is stay here on top of Cans.
Cans tries again, attempting to prompt Clover into doing something, "We should get dressed and go back in. They'll be looking for us."
"Don't care," Clover mumbles, not concerned about it. His luck will keep him safe, no matter what. And Cans is just so comfortable. And... if Clover is being honest with himself, he's never really had a chance to do this. Even when he did manage to have sex, they were usually gone as soon as they could go. Cans won't be going anywhere.
"You'll get cold," Cans frets and Clover giggles softly, "It's not going to look good if someone looks in here."
"I don't care," Clover does his best to sound cheeky, but the words come out defiant instead. He sort of means it, "Fin probably already knows and Trace will figure it out."
"Oh god," He can hear the shock in Cans' voice as he puts it together, his whole body tensing up, "... he was looking at me strange since we left the Mansion."
"It doesn't matter. They can't do anything to us, not when we're together. We'll have your strength and my luck on our side. Anyway, I bet he's just jealous that I get you all to myself," Clover closes his eyes, listening as Cans' quickening heartbeat. It's comforting, and it reminds him of how the ocean always sounded. Clover liked the ocean, even if it was big and scary. It always put him to sleep.
Cans sighs softly, and Clover can feel him moving his arms around, putting things away or getting organized. Clover lets him do whatever he likes, choosing instead to stay sprawled over Cans' chest with his eyes shut. After a moment, Cans settles a hand over top of him. Clover expects Cans to pull him off of his chest, but he never does. Instead, he just strokes Clover's skin ever so softly, and leaves him be.
Just before he drifts off, he hears Cans distantly speak, talking to himself instead of Clover, a soft, "Let this work out. Please... just this once."
Clover nuzzles Cans, his best way of sleepily assuring Cans that it will. And then he just drifts off to the soothing oceany sounds.