Chapter 9
Standing up first, Ash slides an arm around Kieran’s back, giving him a little hoist.
“You’re not coming home with me,” Kieran informs him, letting himself be pulled up to his feet. His hand comes up to push Ash away, but instead ends up grabbing the back of his shirt. For support.
“Okay,” Ash humors him, voice dripping with amusement. He leads them towards the exit silently, but when Kieran looks at him, he can see him smiling.
Wait, why is he smiling? And why is he so eager to make sure Kieran gets home? Could it be…
“I’m not sucking your dick,” Kieran yelps when the thought strikes him. Why his mind has steered in the direction of Ash’s balls and dick over the course of the night, he’d rather not ponder.
A muscle in Ash’s cheek twitches, as if he’s fighting off an even bigger smile. “Okay.”
“You’re not sucking mine either,” Kieran clarifies, not trusting Ash not to get ideas. Not that the idea itself is bad. It has been a good while since Kieran got any action. Still, he’s not that desperate. He’s not.
“Okay,” Ash repeats.
Fucking hell, how can someone be so irritating? Or is it just Kieran that gets the honor? While Dawson had mentioned Ash likes to stir shit up on the regular, something tells Kieran he’s getting ‘special treatment’. Could this be karma for his unintentional catfishing on the dating app?
More importantly, if Ash is as much of a pervert as Kieran believes him to be, why isn’t he walking away? Even drunk he’s perfectly able to call an Uber, like he did last time. Why is he following Ash to his car—
“This yours?” His face scrunches up in disgust as Ash unlocks what’s quite clearly an electric car.
“No, I’m breaking into a random car,” Ash snarks, not without an eyeroll. His hand disappears from Kieran’s back in favor of opening the passenger door for him, and Kieran does not miss the contact. Not at all. “In you go. And put your seatbelt on.”
“I’m not getting into that thing.”
Ash gives him a very unimpressed look. “It’s better for the environment. Don’t worry, it won’t make your dick smaller. Now—” He opens the door wider. “Get in.”
“Nope.” He crosses his arms in defiance, swaying a little as the action throws him off balance.
“Kieran,” Ash says, and something about the way he says Kieran’s name, low and borderline threatening, has alarm bells going off in his head. “I don’t like to repeat myself. Get. In.”
And because he clearly has the self-preservation instinct of a panda, Kieran lifts his chin and asks, “Or what?”
Even in the dim lighting of the parking lot, he can see Ash’s eyes gradually darken, his fingers curling tightly around the edge of the door.
The air around him seems to shift too, charged with something dangerous that has the hair on the back of Kieran’s neck standing on end.
It also has him rooted to the spot, waiting with bated breath for what will happen next. You know, like a complete moron.
He watches Ash’s chest rise and fall with a particularly deep breath before he says, with eerie calmness, “Are you sure you want to find out?”
Kieran’s never moved so fast.
His flight mode activated, he throws himself into the car, nearly banging his head on the roof.
His heart is pounding erratically, and there’s an alien, prickly sensation under his skin, like something trying to claw its way out.
The back of his neck feels cool with sweat, but for some reason his belly feels warm.
He jumps when Ash closes the passenger door, despite it not being very loud. Their eyes meet through the window, and he swears, swears, that the way Ash looks at him is almost proud.
Before he can analyze it further (which he doesn’t want to do anyway), Ash is walking around to the driver’s side, opening the door and sliding behind the wheel.
“Not too bad, huh?”
Kieran blinks at him. “What?” Whatever he’s referring to, it is bad. Everything is so, so bad right now. Terrible.
“The car.”
Right. Kieran was giving him grief about that. He wriggles in his seat, pouting about the fact that his body practically melts into it. Why does it have to be so comfortable?
He sniffs. “Still a sissy car.”
“Brat,” Ash says. Then he’s suddenly invading Kieran’s space.
“Hey—!”
“Move your arm.”
“What—oh.” He holds stock-still while Ash reaches around him to grab the seatbelt, pulling it across his chest. Does he think Kieran is a child or what? This shit is supposed to happen only in K-dramas. Not that Kieran watches those. “I could’ve done that myself.”
The buckle locks in with a click, securing the seatbelt, but Ash doesn’t move away. His gaze seeks out Kieran’s, and a saccharine smile blooms on his lips. “But then I’d miss out on your reaction.”
“Crazy bastard,” Kieran grits out, sighing in relief when Ash finally moves back.
He tries to take a deep breath to regain his composure, but he only manages to get a lungful of Ash’s scent, which reminds him of freshly roasted almonds.
In the confines of the car, it’s even more pronounced, making it impossible to think.
He desperately presses the window switch, even though the engine isn’t turned on yet.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” Ash asks, and fuck him for managing to sound worried.
“It stinks in here.”
Ash snorts. “Of what?”
“You.”
He doesn’t have to look to know Ash is rolling his eyes. Even so, once the engine is on, Ash slides the window open for him and Kieran gratefully takes in a huge breath of fresh air.
“Feel free to let your head hang out.”
“I’m not a fucking dog,” Kieran grits out.
Ash hums, like he’s pondering it. “You’re right, you’re more like a cat. A pain in the ass.”
“Hey!” Kieran protests, though it’s not untrue. Both for cats and for him. Still, hearing it out loud kinda stings.
Ash laughs. “It’s not a bad thing, just part of their charm.”
“Charm?” Kieran repeats with disbelief. “What charm? I’m not charming.” What he is, though, is fed up with Ash making fun of him.
“Sure you are,” Ash doesn’t miss a beat. What’s strange is that he doesn’t sound particularly sarcastic. Teasing, yes, as is his habit. But not mocking. “Charming and sweet.”
“Excuse me?!” He takes it back—Ash is full of shit, no exceptions.
“What are you getting so worked up for? It’s true.” He goes on before Kieran gets a word in edgewise. “I bet that when someone finally earns your trust and you let them in, they’re gonna be on top of the world.” He winks. “Just like with cats.”
Feeling as though the temperature in the car has climbed by ten degrees, Kieran sputters something unintelligible. When it becomes clear he’s not going to come up with a semi-coherent response, he turns away, pretending to look out of the window while his heart hammers in his chest.
What. The. Fuck.
He hears Ash chuckle. It’s a warm, not unpleasant sound, and it messes with Kieran’s head. “Are you being shy?”
“Fuck you! I’m not shy,” Kieran spits out, huffing impatiently. “Can’t you just drive? We’ve been sitting here like idiots for god knows how long.”
Something hard pokes his arm. “Put your address in.”
Reaching back without looking, he gets hold of Ash’s phone. “What, the faultless car doesn’t come with GPS?” The phone is already unlocked, so it’s only natural that Kieran’s attention goes to the background first.
He wasn’t sure what a guy like Ash would use for his background—maybe a pic of his stupid car, or his equally stupid face—but not this.
The photo is of four people, of whom Kieran recognizes three—Ash, Zeke, and Gabe.
The woman in her late forties or early fifties standing between Ash and Gabe with her arms slung over their shoulders is unfamiliar, but he doesn’t need to be an expert in genetics to know she must be Gabe’s mum, or at least related to him some other way. The resemblance is uncanny.
And it makes sense, since it looks like they’re celebrating Gabe’s birthday.
They’re all grinning from ear to ear, save for Gabe who’s pouting at the camera—probably because someone made him wear a conical birthday hat and gave him a whipped-cream beard to go with it.
Despite his grumpy face, the photo is brimming with happiness and love.
It causes a warm sensation to fill Kieran’s chest, before being replaced by something cold and hollow.
“Are you do—ah.” Ash looks over Kieran’s shoulder, giving his nose another blast of his scent. Kieran holds his breath. “That was Gabe’s 25th birthday.”
Blinking away his suddenly blurry vision, Kieran brings up the Maps app, punching in his address and handing the phone over to Ash.
“You didn’t have a beard back then,” he comments, and instantly wants to smack himself for it. What the fuck did he say that for?
“Yeah, well…” Securing the phone to the holder on the dashboard, Ash gives him an unnaturally wide smile. “That was before I realized it gets me laid easier.” He’s close enough for Kieran to headbutt him if he wanted—boy, does he want to—and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to do that.
“You’re a pig.” He doesn’t comment on the fact that he’d do the exact same thing if his facial hair was that cooperative.
“I’m just stating a fact.”
“Uh-huh.” Mumbling, he adds, “As if you need a beard to get laid.”
“What was that?”
“I said the beard makes you look old.”
“Does it, now?” Ash pretends to study his face in the rearview mirror, then turns to Kieran with a smirk. “Are you sure it’s not envy speaking?”
Kieran stammers. “W-why would I be envious? It’s much less hassle to just shave it all off.”
“Hmm.”
A touch to his cheek makes Kieran’s breath hitch. Unable to move otherwise, he turns wide eyes towards Ash.
“You might be right,” Ash says, stroking Kieran’s cheek with the back of his finger. “You look good like this. I don’t think a beard would suit you.”
The skin where Ash is touching burns, but it’s not until a few very long moments later that Kieran bats his hand away.