( he follows after him like a dutiful puppy to heel, not half as uncomfortable in the face of luxury as he was a decade ago, in prague, beside embry who sweats diamonds and cries pearls. it's still a change for him — this isn't how ash prefers to live. it's been a long time since he was shamed for his upbringing, but he was so uncomfortable for all his shortcomings during breakfast, he hadn't actually managed to eat anything. most of his shame comes from being embarrassed in the first place — he's a red blooded, middle class american, and he's proud of missouri and his foster home and the amount of fried ravioli he once ate at six flag in his youth, like he was breaking some sort of record.
still, he follows behind embry, uncomfortable by extreme signs of wealth, not sure if he's allowed to touch anything. he's never been to embry's family's home. he's not sure how it compares. and then it strikes him — why embry is so upset.
they are public figures, and ash did just share a kiss with him in public, at a party, in front of people. sometimes it's hard to remember he's supposed to be in the closet when he's positive he wears his love for embry like a second skin, impossible to remove, ever present, blatant in his longing eyes and lingering touches. he shakes off his discomfort swiftly, following embry inside the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and observing him. if he squints, they could be at the white house — this could be one of those nightly rituals where he watches greer methodically take off her makeup, shake out her hair, apply serum to her face. embry at the husband's sink, stealing her skincare, wearing matching bunny earred headbands. )
I am.
( lots of places to look. embry's nose rubbed raw, his eyes bloodshot and vibrantly blue. his soldier's chest. the hickey. the fucking hickey, because he loves making ash feel fucking insane. ash shuts the door with a little more bite than what was intended, tapping expensive shoes on expensive tiles as he crosses over to him. he can't even pretend not to be jealous, leaning over him, pining him to the vanity with hands spread on either side, trapping him in. ash's nose inclines, sliding up his throat, bottle green eyes locking onto his in the vanity's mirror. )
You should get cleaned up first.
( said while he sinks his teeth meanly into the hickey, because ash doesn't play nice — because embry isn't allowed to be marked by anyone but him. he won't permit it. he called him achilles, and that makes him complicit. )
no subject
still, he follows behind embry, uncomfortable by extreme signs of wealth, not sure if he's allowed to touch anything. he's never been to embry's family's home. he's not sure how it compares. and then it strikes him — why embry is so upset.
they are public figures, and ash did just share a kiss with him in public, at a party, in front of people. sometimes it's hard to remember he's supposed to be in the closet when he's positive he wears his love for embry like a second skin, impossible to remove, ever present, blatant in his longing eyes and lingering touches. he shakes off his discomfort swiftly, following embry inside the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and observing him. if he squints, they could be at the white house — this could be one of those nightly rituals where he watches greer methodically take off her makeup, shake out her hair, apply serum to her face. embry at the husband's sink, stealing her skincare, wearing matching bunny earred headbands. )
I am.
( lots of places to look. embry's nose rubbed raw, his eyes bloodshot and vibrantly blue. his soldier's chest. the hickey. the fucking hickey, because he loves making ash feel fucking insane. ash shuts the door with a little more bite than what was intended, tapping expensive shoes on expensive tiles as he crosses over to him. he can't even pretend not to be jealous, leaning over him, pining him to the vanity with hands spread on either side, trapping him in. ash's nose inclines, sliding up his throat, bottle green eyes locking onto his in the vanity's mirror. )
You should get cleaned up first.
( said while he sinks his teeth meanly into the hickey, because ash doesn't play nice — because embry isn't allowed to be marked by anyone but him. he won't permit it. he called him achilles, and that makes him complicit. )