So here's what's what: I have a collection of drabbles here that I hope you will all enjoy and if any of you wish for me to ellaborate on any of them, just lemme know :D


~Love~

Desmond looked so cute when he got all flustered like this. His usually tan cheeks would flush red and his words would become a stammering jumble and he'd twist the edge of his shirt in his hands, his brown eyes never truly looking into Clay's blue, always glancing around nervously or simply focusing on his feet. And Clay would just stand by and smile, poking fun and toying with him.

"Clay?" he called hesitantly, those chocolate brown eyes finally rising to Clay's face.

Clay just hummed in question and raised an eyebrow.

"I...I want to tell you...I-I mean-it's just-you see..." he stuttered. Desmond huffed and frowned, exasperated at his lack of right words.

"No, please, go on, I'm enjoying this." Clay said, a smirk touching his pale lips. He crossed his arms and leaned on the stone to his right, enjoying the glare that was sent his way.

"Don't be an asshole, I'm trying to say something touching." Desmond snapped.

"By all means," Clay waved a hand, motioning for Desmond to continue. In response Desmond took a deep breath and managed to collect himself slightly.

"Clay, I...I love you." he said, his eyes wide, earnest, and slightly nervous.

Now that Clay didn't expect. It was his turn to be flustered, his pale cheeks coloring slightly. He rarely blushed.

"R-really?" he breathed, barely above a whisper.

Desmond nodded, biting the scar on his lips.

"Really."

Clay lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Desmond neck and pulling him into a passionate kiss. His hands roamed all over Desmond's body, wanting to feel more of this wonderful, perfect, amazing man that treated Clay far better than he deserved. Finally when they broke away both were gasping and Clay rested his forehead against Desmond's, a scarce, genuine smile on his face.

"I love you, too."


-Fight-

They were fighting again. It seemed to be happening more and more recently. It had started two weeks ago when Clay suddenly just shut Desmond out. He was very closed off and didn't speak much, hardly ate, and often locked himself in the bathroom for long periods of time. Whenever Desmond would ask him what's wrong Clay would just say it's nothing and refused to speak further on the matter. And Desmond was fed up. Concern and anger swirled within Desmond, contesting for his attention and he decided it was about damn time Clay started talking.

"Clay, what's going on with you lately?"

Desmond decided to confront him in the kitchen. Clay was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, his eyes not even moving to read it. When Desmond spoke, Clay lifted his pale gaze to the other.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You know damn well what I mean. You've been acting weird and won't talk about it." Desmond pointed out impatiently. No more waiting. He was getting to the bottom of this now.


_Tragedy_

Desmond pounded on the door, screaming as loudly as his lungs would allow.

"Clay, please, don't do this! I need you! Just, please, don't! Open the fucking door!"

He was sobbing by this point, warm tears streaming steadily down his face. Desmond tried again at the doorknob, only serving to jingle it in it's position, not able to unlock the door.

"Clay! Are you even listening to me!?" Desmond yelled desperately, his voice cracking.

There was a soft click that Desmond almost didn't hear. He wasted no time in throwing the door open, smacking Clay who had just unlocked it and sending him down on his butt. Desmond quickly rushed into the small bathroom, but stopped in his tracks when he saw all the fucking blood.

"Clay..." Desmond's voice wavered as he stared in horror.

Clay was sitting with his back leaned up against the bathtub, his arms laid out across his jeans now damp with blood, making the wounds there clear to Desmond's eyes. Harsh lacerations zig zagged across Clay's forearms, spilling blood across the previously white tile floor. His blue eyes were half lidded and he looked about ready to pass out.

"Holy shit, Clay!"

Panic suddenly took hold of Desmond and he dropped to the ground before Clay, his hands shaking as he reached out to him.

"Hey there, Des." Clay said in a weak voice.

"Clay...Why?" that one word was enough to bring the tears back to Desmond's eyes.

"I just couldn't stand it anymore, Des." Clay spoke softly. "All the voices...All the pain...It was too much..."


+Idiot+

Their tongues lazily explored each other's mouths, swapping spit. Desmond's hand came up and found it's way into blonde hair, tugging slightly when Clay nipped at his lips, his teeth kneading Desmond's scar. He tipped his head back and moaned as Clay moved his lips down to Desmond's neck. Desmond wrapped his free hand around Clay's waist and gave a little tug, trying to pull his lover on top of himself. Clay complied and tipped Desmond onto his back, only it went all wrong. Just half of Desmond's back landed on the bed and the other half tipped right over the edge, inadvertantly taking Clay down to the floor with him. They both tumbled onto the cool hardwood flooring with a series of thumps. Clay and Desmond quickly sat up, rubbing new sore spots, and stared at each other. They simultaneously burst into laughter.

"You idiot." Clay chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know." Desmond agreed, grinning broadly.


}Angel{

"Who...What are you?" Desmond asked, staring in wonder at the obvious angel before him.

Clay just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Gee, I dunno, maybe I'm the boogie man." he drawled out sarcastically. "How stupid do you have to be to not know an angel when you see one?"

"There's no such thing as angels though." Desmond argued dumbly.

"Oh well that's just excellent to know!" Clay suddenly exclaimed, pretending to sound excited. "I'm not real! I thought something felt off today, I just don't exist. Phew, that's a load off the chest. Good to know I'm impossible."

Desmond frowned at the sarcastic angel.

"You don't have to be an ass about it." he snapped.


=Staring=

Clay's pale blue eyes were locked onto him again. It was almost unnerving the way he stared at Desmond, his eyes sharp and hungry to drink in the other's form.

"Why do you do that?" Desmond asked.

"Do what?" Clay played innocent.

"That. I catch you staring at me all the time. It's kinda creepy sometimes."

Slowly, Clay stood from his seat and made his way over to where Desmond sat on the couch. He leaned down and straddled Desmond's waist letting his legs sink down into the cushions while his arms wrapped loosely around the brunette's neck.

"Maybe," he drawled out lazily, leaning closer into Desmond's personal space. "It's because I've gone so long without seeing another actual human. Or maybe," Clay's eyelids dropped to hide half his icy blue eyes and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips. "It's because you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen." Clay leaned forward and captured Desmond's lips as his own.

It wasn't until after a minute of passionate kissing that Clay released his lover, both seperating, gasping for breath. Clay smirked down at Desmond who was flushed and panting.

"You decide the reason."

"I think...I like the second option better." Desmond decided with a small smile.


\New Year's/

"Guys, the count down is about to start!" Lucy called through the door.

"We'll be out in a minute." Desmond made a promise he had no intention of keeping.

His half lidded brown eyes locked with pale blue ones. Desmond sat contently on Clay's lap who in turn sat on the toilet, warm hands clamped around his waist.

"You don't mind missing it?" Clay asked in a teasing way.

Desmond smiled and leaned in closer to Clay's face.

"I'm not missing anything." he replied.

A smirk split Clay's face.

On the other side of the bathroom door the two could hear the countdown blaring from the TV and a chorus from people filling the apartment.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Desmond descended on Clay just as the clock struck midnight. Cocoa bean skin pressed against pale porcelain as their lips met in a passionate affair.

"Happy new year, Desmond." Clay purred when they came up for air.

"Happy new year."

Clay's hand wandered up Desmond's back under his shirt as slow kissing persisted. His fingers brushed over toned muscles before coming to rest on shoulders. Desmond moaned as Clay trailed kisses down his neck. He arched into his boyfriend's touch, wanting to feel more of him.

"You know what I just realized?" he mumbled, distracted by the lips and teeth teasing his flesh.

Clay hummed in question against Desmond's collar bone.

"I haven't been laid since last year." Desmond looked down at the blonde head for a reaction.

Clay gave a cheshire grin. He reached up and captured Desmond's face in another kiss.

"I'll have to fix that, now won't I?"

With a heave, Clay pulled the brunette down into the bathtub, landing on top. He straddled Desmond's hips and arched down to continue his attack.


*Hogwarts*

"Hey, Clay, what answer did you get for number fourteen?" Desmond asked, turning his head but not tearing his eyes from his homework.

"Psh, I'm not giving you the answers." Clay scoffed. He turned the page of his book without looking up to Desmond.

Desmond groaned dramatically and flooped down in one of the four chairs before the currently empty fireplace. He draped an arm across his eyes while the other hung limply, still clutching his quiz.

"You're no help!" he complained loudly.

Clay continued to ignore him, reading happily away.

"Hey." a voice called out.

Both Clay and Desmond looked up at another Gryffindor that was standing before them with two friends flanking her. She had her arms cross and stared at Clay with a half digusted half angered look.

"What the hell if a hufflepuff doing in our common room?" she demanded.

Clay frowned up at her, but before he could speak, Desmond jumped to his feet, dropping his papers.

"Why do you care?" he shot back.

"You're actually defending him?" she snorted, now definately sounding disgusted.

"Of course I am, he's my friend." Desmond responded angrily.

"Muggle-born have to stick together, I suppose." one of the girl's friends commented.

Clay was on his feet now, his wand held tightly in his left hand.

"How about you three go find something else to do than let bullshit spew from your mouths." he barked, his pale eyes flashing.

"I don't think so." the ringleader said. "There is no way in hell that I'm going to listen to some hufflepuff, especially in my own common room." Her friends made sounds of agreement.

"Watch your mouth!" Desmond suddenly yelled. In a flash his wand was out and pointed straight at the offending girl.

"Or what? Everyone knows that you're terrible at magic." she scoffed. Her friends chuckled.

"Calvario." Clay spoke firmly and calmly.

As soon as the spell was spoken it went into action. The head bully gave a shriek as all her curly red hair fell off her head. Her two friends gaped in horror. Clay smirked smuggly.

"Done now?" he taunted, keeping his wand raised.

"You...You bastard!" she screamed.

The girl's wand shot up and she shouted, "Mimble Wimble!"

"Finite Incantatum!" Desmond intervened, canceling the spell his fellow gryffindor had just attempted to cast.

"Cantis." Clay said as if he was simply adding a simple opinion to the conversation.

The now bald gryffindor girl suddenly burst into song. She sang, not very well, barbara manatee from the veggie tales. Multiply times she tried to close her mouth and cut off the lyric, but her lips would always snap open again and continue to song with even more fervor. She glared daggars at Desmond and Clay as she was led off by her friends, going to the girls dorm. Clay and Desmond both laughed once they were gone.

"That was a good one." Desmond applauded. "But now I have to deal with a bald housemate who's bad at singing." He didn't seem too upset about it though.


#Camp Half-blood#

It was Desmond Miles's third year at Camp Half-blood. He had been coming ever since he was fifteen and this would be his last year before he went off to college. It certainly had been an experience. From the first time he'd arrived and been claimed by his godly parent, Apollo, it had been a whirlwind. He'd been on quests, fought monsters, made friends, made enemies, and met gods. It wasn't something he would forget this lifetime. Here in his new home, he'd made his own way with the tip of the knife he'd earned from a bet from capture the flag. Through the thick and thin, he'd trudged on, loving this place far more than his old house that he'd always wished to escape. In fact, he had first discovered the camp after running away from his respressive father.

Always at Desmond's side was his loving boyfriend Clay. Clay Kaczmarek became a camper two years before Desmond. He was wore around the edges and chipped in places, but Desmond had befriended him none the less and after a few years, they even became a couple. Clay was the son of Moneta, goddess of memories, and suffered from schizophrenia. Despite their problems and flaws, Clay and Desmond had stuck together through it all.

Today was the day. The last day of his time at camp where he and Clay would get their last bead and move on to the fake world, as Clay put it. This year's bead would depict a flooded camp. Crazy year. Desmond was sad to leave though. For a few years of his life things had been different and dangerous and exciting. He didn't want to leave this life behind. Though it was true that things wouldn't suddenly return to how they were before, Desmond also wouldn't constantly be exposed to the excitement that always engulfed Camp Half-blood. Instead he would be going to college and learning to be an average mortal. Not exactly the life he envisioned, but it was a comfort to know that Clay would always be by his side.