Ruin The Friendship

Chapter 7 : If she does it like this

We're in the car for only a few minutes before I realize... I have no fucking clue where were going. I pull out my phone, type: 'where r we going' then realize I can't make Clay read it while he's driving. I pause, chewing my thumb, then get a brilliant idea.

I open Google Translate, plug my phone into the aux, then retype my message.

"Where are we going?" Plays over the speakers, loud enough Clay flinches.

"What the fuck was that-" He starts, looking around.

I laugh silently, then type again.

"Google Translate. I'm using it to speak."

Clay turns to look at me, brief, before turning back to the road.

"You're a dumbass." He mumbles, but I can hear the humor in his voice. "And where we're going is a secret."

I pout my lip, going to type again. "You're really gonna keep it from me? Your poor, sick, fragile, dying, nearly dead, fresh out the hospital, health bar depleted, girlfriend?"

Clay laughs, brief, nose wrinkling with the effort. "Yes. I sure am." He says, simple.

I guess I'll ask my next question. "How long are we going to be in the car, then?"

Clay hums, head tilting. "Uh- I'd say like... another thirty-forty minutes."

Oh. That's quite some time. "Can I music?" I type.

"Wh-what? Yeah." He chuckles. "Of course you can."

I keep staring at him, inhibitions lowered due to my medication kicking in and making me a bit... looser, fuzzier. "Will you sing to me?" I type.

Clay pulls up to a red light, then fully turns to look at me, reaching his hand over to cup my face. I tilt into it, nuzzling against his palm.

"If you want me to, I can. Just put something on." He says, soft, then leans in, pressing a kiss to my nose.

I pull back from it, expression warped into one of embarrassment, then go to search for music. I almost pick something sweet, that'd I'd die to hear him sing, something that will make me melt, but stop myself.

I'm picking something stupid.

I tap Shake It - Metro Station.

The music plays for mere seconds, before Clay huffs, rolling his tongue in his mouth. "Fuck you." He says, simple.

I silently laugh, then go to type.

"Sing it, cracker." Plays over the speaker, immediately followed Clay's head rolling back on his shoulders, and a guttural moan drawing out of his throat.

"I'm not-" He starts, but I spam the speech button over and over, repeating my last typed phrase near constant.

"Tonight you're falling in love-" Clay finally mumble sings.

I slap my hand over my mouth in surprise, euphoria rushing in, leaving me giddy.

"Baby why are you fucking- this feeling's tearing me up- do you have a fucking humiliation kink? Why are you doing this?" Clay continues.

I'm beaming at this point, laughter burning in my chest as I watch him, hesitantly mumble singing the lyrics that I know he knows. He loved this song in middle-school. We loved this song in middle-school.

Clay takes a deep breath. "Now if she does it like this, will you do it like that?" He sings, fuller volume, more energy.

I thump into my seat, thrashing. I would be screaming if I could make noise. My little performance must amuse Clay, because his expression starts to soften, lips tugging into a smile.