He turns to Link, thoughtful, placing a palm in the middle of his chest when he leans in to say goodnight. On the spur of the moment, he decides that he very much wants to find out.
Thatmight be the booze, but to hell with it.
“Something wrong?” Link asks, his fingertips grazing Ashton’s bicep, smile sweet as honey.
“Do you think—would it be strange if I said that I wanted to share your bed tonight? Just… ” Ashton pauses and squints, tilting his head to the side and regarding Link thoughtfully. “I want to suggest ‘cuddling’, but I’m wondering if it will insult your manly sensibilities.”
Link first looks surprised, and then scoffs. “Realmen aren’t afraid to be the little spoon, Ash,” he replies, doing an eyebrow wiggle that makes Ashton chuckle. “Would it bestrange?Hell, no. It would be fuckin’ awesome,” Link clarifies, reaching out his hand to once again take Ashton’s own and squeeze.
“My boots are in your room, anyway,” Ashton reminds him. “It’s probably just as well.”
“Probably just as—” Link stops short in the middle of the hallway and throws his head back, laughing loudly and tossing Ashton that irresistible, dimpled grin when he does, the one that could light up an entire city. “Whatever you want, sunshine,” he says, patting Ashton’s hand with his free one. “Whatever you want.”
?
Chapter 6
Inside the sanctuary that is Link's room, it’s surprisingly easy for Ashton to strip down to his boxers and slide into bed next to a man who has somehow, in just a few week’s time, become the molten, exigent center of his universe. As wholly ludicrous as that may sound, it is (at least in Ashton’s current, tipsy state) still easily recognizable as the truth.
Pressed up against his chest, Link is warm and welcoming, mind and body. He is all the things Ashton has pined away for, hoping to find in a friend, apartner,a lover. Link's lips are soft but sure as they trail over stubbled jaw, his hands interested but respectful where they grip Ashton’s hip and slide across his back.
It feels so obvious. An undisputed, universal truth: Link—Linkis the reason Ashton left Whitaker to begin with, Link is what and who he was missing all along. He’s the answer, the reason Ashton jumped when he saw the cliff. Maybe he didn’tknow exactly what he was seeking then, but his gut told him to try, that somewhere out there wasmore. Still, he assumed that such stories were merely fodder for fairytales. That happy endings were unicorns, a long shot at best, but mostly a lie.
And then along came Link, turning every one of those assumptions on its head and forcing Ashton to acknowledge that thisthingthe two of them seem to share—this unearthly, gravitationalpullthat currently has Ashton unable to resist pressing his lips against Link's over and over and over—was out there all along, looking forhim.
Cocooned in the nest of Link's bed, they lie together, kissing with limbs entwined for what might be an endless eternity. Hours, days, or perhaps mere seconds—Ashton’s savoring it all and hungry for more. No amount of time could feel like enough to spend in Link's arms, and he finds himself almost desperate to hold onto tonight. The way Link kisses is tender, thoughtful, but still passion-filled enough to get his motor running. Runninghot,in a way that Ashton hasn’t felt in years.Perhaps ever.
Wrapped up in each other, Link kisses using his whole body, and Ashton isveryinto that. He molds himself to Link's curves, sliding their legs together and allowing Link to cup the back of his head and tilt it about. To press a thumb against the soft pad of his chin when he wants Ashton to open, to brush lips and sigh against his throat. It’s nearly magical, what sparks between them, and that’s saying nothing of what itfeelslike for Ashton to lick into Link's mouth himself, to have Link's tongue moving against his own, to feel Link's heart racing beneath his hand.
He can’t deny this—Link's lips on his make Ashton feel alive and worthy, or maybe justgood.It’sniceto simply feelgood.
After a while, the deep, intense kisses they’re sharing slow to something easier, more gentle, less all-consuming. Just simple, easy presses of lips traded back and forth, neither one of them seemingly anxious to be the person who ends things first, the unfortunate soul who succumbs to the warm, sated energy they’ve created and (however understandably) falls asleep on the other.
Link slides a hand down Ashton’s jaw, thumb tracing over a cheekbone as his dark, green eyes blink slowly, hazily at him in the dark. “Can I tell you something?” Link asks hoarsely. Ashton nods, leaning forward to steal another sweet kiss, which Link accepts with a delicious, tiny hum that Ashton is happy to swallow. Link licks his lips as they separate again, flashing anunbelievablysoft version of his usual cocky (but charming) grin. The sight of it makes affection swell almost inexorably in Ashton’s chest.
“Anything,” he replies fondly. His fingertips are on an explorative journey, trailing down Link's neck, over his amulet, and across his chest, cataloging curves and planes before coming to rest lightly wrapped around Link's ribs. Truly, Ashton is beginning to suspect that he could never get enough of this man. However silly, he can’t shake the feeling that he should becloser,that he can’tgetclose enough to Link at all, and he can’t bring himself to stop touching because of it.
“Tell me,” he affirms, instead of giving voice to any of that sheer insanity.
Link shifts against the sheets, shimmying over onto his back, presumably to make himself more comfortable. This unfortunately dislodges Ashton’s hand on his torso, but Link seamlessly reaches down and threads their fingers together beneath the blankets instead. Once he’s settled, Ashton leans in, propping his chin onto Link's shoulder and pressing a kiss to the delightfully smooth skin that he finds there. He waits patiently in silence, wanting to give Link the same breathing room and respect that he’s always provided.
“So. You know Violet, the Hellhound?”
Ashton nods, chin pushing into Link's bicep. “From your books. Named for the color of her eyes.”
“Sort of. She… wasn’t a tattoo I ever wanted,” Link admits, avoiding Ashton’s gaze and speaking into the darkness. He pauses, pulling a deep breath into his lungs that Ashton can feel expanding his chest,hearas he releases the air with measured intent. He stays quiet, the break in conversation carrying on for long enough that Ashton feels the need to make it clear that he’s listening, that he’s indelibly invested. He squeezes Link's hand.
“Not actually one of your favorite characters?” he ventures, shooting for light and gentle teasing.
Link doesn’t laugh, just shakes his head,no,before turning his face and burying his nose in Ashton’s hair. The gesture is unexpectedly intimate, grounding, and yes, somewhat surprising, but Ashton relishes it. After all, Link has brought him so much comfort, been unwavering in his support since the day they met, the veryleasthe can do is return the favor, in whatever small way Link might accept.
“Book three wasn’t written when I got this tattoo,” Link explains. “Violet—at least, the Violet you know—didn’t exist.” Link shifts, lips grazing Ashton’s temple as he relaxes back against the pillow again. “Thing is, there was this guy. Another tattoo artist, actually.”
Ashton immediately hums in understanding, and that, at least, makes Link laugh.
“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart,” he says, the hand holding Ashton’s releasing it in order to snake underneath and around his shoulders, pulling him close, instead. Ashton goes easily, settling into Link's side and breathing his spicy, musky scent quite happily. “Always comes back to some guy or girl, doesn’t it?”
“The things we do for supposed love.”
