Just two dudes chillin' (Robert Small x Dadsona)

A monster made of clay

It was weird. Really weird. Why did it have that shape? Why was it so long? Why was it so big?

"Robert, my very dear friend, I hope you'll pardon me for asking in such manners, but what the fuck are you doing?"

"Language, Hector. Language. You'd not want to scandalize a poor little innocent boy like me, would you?" Hector raised an eyebrow, still eyeing the weird statue.

"I would never. It's not like said poor little innocent boy is creating a giant di-"

"You lack artistic vision", he replied, interrupting the younger man. Hector clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to be mortally wounded.

The memory of him, Damien, Joseph and Hugo at the museum was still very present. He was a changed man after that: he finally understood art after many years of his relatively long but actually short life. Everything, everything, in art - and it didn't matter from where and when a piece was - revolved around butts. That's how it was. That's how it should have been. Amen to butts, one of Mother Nature's most lovely creations.

"Lacking artistic vision? Moi? That's it, cruel word. I'm ready to go." Hector hurriedly touched his throat as if he was suffocating, one hand still on his chest to stop the imaginary bleeding. Robert went back to smooth the surface of his, ehm, anatomically bizarre work.

"There has to be someone funnier than the other between us, and I happen to know who is who." Robert didn't bat an eye, apparently focused on his project.

"Hghkk... Robert, I'm dying." The other man huffed the hint of a laugh, trying to create a vein with a stick. Hector stopped his theatrics then and rolled his eyes, bored by the minimal reaction. He blew a lock of curly hair away from his face, his own hands covered in green clay.

They both had stains here and there because they kept trying to make the other fuck up. Hector had to start again whatever he was trying to do at least three times, Robert just two.

"I don't find clowns funny" was his calm reply, a second later. Hector gasped, pretending to be hurt.

When Robert eventually appeared to give him attention, he stuck his tongue out at him and went back to his work with a raised chin.

"You bitch!" he whispered, getting closer to Robert with an exaggerated angry face.

"You don't deserve me. I'm gonna stop talking to you."

"Thank God, finally. Another word and I was going to toss this at you", joked Robert, showing the enormous dick of clay he had been working on the whole time. Hector laughed at the vision, though when the handsome older man went to fake-throw the thing, Hector almost fell out of his chair, attempting to dodge it. At that vision, it was Robert's turn to laugh, trying to hit a giggling Hector with his clay dick.

He, Mary and Robert had become a good trio with time, they always met for drinks essentially every weekend. Sometimes one of the other dads was invited too, but it was mostly the three of them. Mind you, Hector had some veeeery embarrassing moments he'd like to bury in the back of his mind, but with the two he also created some of the best memories in his life.

Yet, this week Mary and Joseph were out of town visiting her parents with their children.

For the first time in a while, it would have been just Hector and Robert.

When Hector heard the news, his heart skipped a few beats. It felt nice, knowing it was just the two of them for once. Really nice. And also extremely fucking stressful.

There was no need to make things weird, right? It wasn't even the first time they hung out alone. Deep breaths, no touching, and acting like an adult would have done the trick. He was awkard already on his own, no need to overthink it and make things worse for the both of them.