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Ash was tired.
He was the kind of tired that had surpassed shaking limbs and gritty eyes. No. Now his body throbbed with exhaustion. His arms and legs heavy, his head swimming in a hazy, unreal blur, like the moments on a roller coaster where the turns move faster than the eye can process and the world becomes smudges of color and sound. It can be beautiful, but it also leaves you sick to your stomach more often than not.
The guards murmured a quiet hello, standing sleepily to report that all was quiet. It had better be. Fifty-eight floors into the sky, like a bird, and surrounded by wealthy people accustomed to ease and safety and a world where pain and blood and drugs and death had nothing to do with them. Every person in this building expected to die peacefully in their sleep.
Everyone but him.
It was laughable. Ash can’t remember a time like that. Not really. Some glimpses of soft blue eyes and gentle hugs and stories. Words and words and words first told in silly voices and then later scrawled in old, yellowing notebooks accompanied by lopsided drawings with mismatched eyes. Ash loved them. He loved Griff. He knew he did.
Back when he remembered how.
He loved Shorter too. And Nadia.
And a tiny, shameful, hated part of him loved Papa. And his old man. He knew they were fucking monsters. He knew they were the kind of people to take and hurt and hurt and take until you were nothing but a skeleton rattling in the breeze. But he still loved them. It was perverse, but what choice did he have? Children are compelled to love those that take care of them. Even when they hate them too, hate them more.
Ash shook his head, dislodging the thought and making DanDan flinch. “Go,” he grumbled, not interested in coddling the feelings of his men. Let them jump. They should jump and flinch and cower away from dangerous things. He could kill them with his bare hands, rip out their throats with his teeth like an animal.
They sensed it. He could see it in their eyes.
DanDan bolted with a muttered “Yes Boss!” But Alex looked at him shrewdly.
“Nah, man. I ain’t got a trip back to Eagle’s Roost in me tonight. Ima crash on the couch if ya don’t mind it.” His lip quirked in a barely there cross between a grin and a grimace, like he wanted to smile but didn’t dare. Ash didn’t sigh. What was the point? It was his fault Alex was so wary. It was necessary.
Don’t get too close. Don’t care too much. Don’t touch the wild lynx. He bites. And his poison spreads.
Ask Shorter.
Ask Skip.
He nodded. He wasn’t fooled. Far from it. But Alex was right. He was too tired. Too weak. They needed a guard with their wits about them, and he wasn’t fucking ready to claim the role. He hated that Alex could see. If Alex could see the tremor in his frame then Lee could. Blanca could. Papa could. Rico and Snake and… And.
And was dangerous. And got people killed.
Not him though. Never him. Other people took bullets meant for him. They bled for him and cried for him and… He pinched the bridge of his nose, pretending to disguise they way he wiped his eyes. Alex saw. Bones too. But they let him pretend.
Sappy. Soft. He should beat it out of them.
But he couldn’t bear to. He couldn’t take any more of these beautiful, broken boys. He couldn’t make them harder, colder, more monstrous. So let them smile their secret half-smiles and care . They deserved care. They deserved better. But all they had was him.
He was sorry. He was so so sorry. But he kept them alive. That had to count for something.
He kept them alive. Mostly.
He kept most of them alive.
Not Shorter.
Not Skip.
Not Griff or Digger or Teeth.
But most of them. Mostly.
Ash unbent. Enough to stretch, to yawn, maybe enough to let his shoulders droop. Just a little. Just enough. He could feel his humanity rattling around like his poor posture made space for it. Like when perfection slipped he could be a real boy.
Suck it Pinnoccio. Ash couldn’t afford it. Not ever. And certainly not now. Not when--
“He up?”
Alex didn’t need to ask who. That was bad. Good too. Because Alex was good. Damn good. He knew which resources were precious. Irreplaceable. “Nah. Conked out a couple hours ago. He ain’t a night owl like us.”
It was true. Adorably true. Ash smiled before he could stop himself.
Alex pointedly didn’t notice. “You wanna crash for a couple? I slept in, so I ain’t draggin’ too bad.”
“I gotta figure out food for the guys. Then maybe.”
“Eiji already did it.” Alex handed him a table with a cracked screen. On it was a grocery list and a menu for the week. It was separated into categories. Soups and stews and sandwich fixings for the guys. Salads and shrimp and fish for Ash and himself. A note marked at the bottom that noted that Bones wanted to try the salted fish and miso.
Because of course Eiji was keeping track of things like that.
He smiled again. Didn’t even fight it. Bones would wrinkle his nose, but he’d probably like it. He liked almost anything that even pretended to be food. The other end of the spectrum. Another kid who was hungry a lot when he was small.
Ash typed in a note to feed poor Bones natto before handing the tablet back to Alex. “Who are you sending?”
“Kong and Bones are taking Eiji tomorrow morning. Store’s in Chinatown and Sing’s guaranteed safety while they’re there.”
Ash nodded. He wished it was Shorter. He liked Sing. Honestly. But god he wished it was Shorter.
“Have them swing by Chang Dai to check on Nadia while they’re there.”
Alex nodded.
“And send Two-bit with them as extra muscle. Nothing happens to Eiji. Got it?”
“Yes Boss.”
Ash didn’t say he was going to bed. He didn’t need to. Alex knew.
He didn’t shuffle or sag until he was out of site, door closed and persona put away. Now he could sway on his feet, blinking owlishly at the sight before him. Smile a soft, dopey smile that said too much and not enough all at once.
Eiji had left on the bedside light on the table between their beds. A plate lay covered by a cloth napkin beneath it’s glow. Ash’s stomach rumbled and he thought about it. But the effort to chew and swallow was more than he could muster. He’d eat it in the morning.
Before Eiji force-fed it to him. He snorted in amusement at his own ridiculousness.
Eiji shifted at the sound, huffing a tiny breath and snuggling back into his blankets. He was hugging a pillow to his chest like a teddy bear as he slept. Long, full eyelashes brushed chubby cheeks, lips parted just a little. His shirt had ridden up as he moved, showing off toned muscles and golden skin that seemed to glow in the light of the tiny lamp. Eiji’s cheeks made him look soft. But his body showed his strength. Hard and soft. Strong and gentle. Eiji was a contradiction. Something entirely new in Ash’s vast experience.
He smacked his lips as Ash watched, entranced. Humming a quiet noise and wiggling into a new position before tiny snores once again escaped to dance and cavort across Ash’s exhausted heart and mind.
Beautiful.
He was so beautiful.
Ash didn’t have anything so grand as a thought as he stepped toward Eiji’s bed. He just went, pulled like a magnet to true north until he could ghost his fingers over Eiji’s arm, slide them tender soft through his fluffy hair.
Beautiful, he thought again.
He leaned down, then, the weight of his fatigue, of his own foulness, of his life bleeding away until a tiny, fragile light danced beneath the archway of his ribs. He paused, for a second or an hour or a lifetime, poised on the cusp of something incredible. Something utterly unknown.
The last few millimeters stretched on for miles and miles before his lips pressed gently to that lovely, eye-lash shadowed cheek.
Eiji’s skin was soft and smooth and perfect. Ash inhaled, pulling the scent of Eiji into his lungs, pulling Eiji into his tired body, his exhausted soul.
It was stolen. Like the other. And utterly unlike it too. The other had been for Griff. For Shorter. For the Lynx, trapped in a human zoo and ignored, completely forgotten by PETA. An animal that deserved his cage regardless of his innocence of this particular crime.
This was gentle, as Ash had not realized he could be. This was pure. Adoration. Maybe love.
He pulled back with a sigh to find Eiji’s sleepy eyes open and looking at him. There was no hurt there, no betrayal. Only trust. Only…hope?
“Ash?” Eiji murmured, fingers pushing Ash’s own sweaty bangs from his face, caressing his cheek as he nuzzled into the touch like his namesake feline counterpart. Pet me, Eiji he wanted to say, but didn’t dare. He didn’t know how to ask for gentleness, to offer… this.
Eiji smiled anyway. “I am glad you are home safe, Ash. Are you tired?”
He was, achingly so. But he shoot his head no, sat on the edge of Eiji’s bed to bask in the warmth.
Eiji huffed a tired chuckle. “Liar. I know you did not sleep last night.”
“I--just give me a minute Eiji.” He closed his eyes, unsure if it had been a request or a demand.
“I will give you every minute you need, Ash. Anything I can offer to you is yours.” Eiji blushed, hiding his face away. “Is it too much?” His voice was quiet. Worried. Hopeful.
“It’s the perfect amount.”
Eiji’s smile was radiant. Ash let his eyes close, leaning in until his nose brushed Eiji’s cheek. Eiji’s fingers in his hair didn’t pull, the ones at his back didn’t pinch or scratch. Soft. Perfect.
“Do I remember a kiss, my Ash?” Eiji’s voice was teasing, but his body showed how he really felt. How this mattered.
“I should have asked,” Ash replied, lips grazing Eiji’s cheek once again.
“I would have said yes.”
Ash pulled away blinking, surprise working to kickstart his brain. “You would?”
“I would,” Eiji confirmed. Eiji flushed bright pink before leaning forward to press his own lips to Ash’s cheek. “I would have done that too.” Eiji watched him carefully, but he didn’t pull away. “If you wanted me to.”
Ash blinked back sudden tears. “What about this?” he whispered, pressing his lips to Eiji’s forehead.
“I like that too.” Eiji pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss Ash’s forehead. “And you?”
He was so close. So very very close. And so very very kind. And his lips were parted as his eyes searched Ash’s face, questioning rather than demanding.
“Beautiful,” Ash whispered, closing the tiny distance to press his lips to Eiji’s. It was chaste, fleeting. It was wonderful.
Ash was filled with wonder.
Eiji smiled before leaning forward very slowly to press their lips together again, a smile spreading when Ash didn’t pull away.
When Eiji retreated, Ash reached up to cup his face, gentle. Reverent. He tilted Eiji’s head, holding his gaze as he leaned in, pressing his lips to Eiji’s, parting them, just a little to tease at his lovely, gentle mouth, and groaning quietly when Eiji’s own lips parted with a gasp.
Ash was slow, languid, as he kissed Eiji tasted Eiji, devoured Eiji. They were both panting when he pulled away.
“Is it ok?” Eiji asked.
But Ash heard the real question. Are you ok? Do you want this? Can I do this again? And he could. Again and again and again and again. He pressed another quick kiss to Eiji’s warm mouth in reply. “Yeah.”
“Good.” Eiji rubbed his arms, still heavy with fatigue but somehow lighter too. “That is good.”
Ash opened his mouth, perhaps to say something shocking, to make an innuendo or a dirty joke. But instead he yawned, loud and honest.
“You are tired, Ash.” Eiji looked at him long, long seconds. Then he lifted the edge of his blanket. “Come to bed.”
And there were a million reasons why he couldn't. Why he shouldn't. But there, in Eiji's eyes and Eiji's smile and Eiji's soft, gentle kisses was a reason why he could. Why he wanted to.
"Ok."