high rise hearts ☆ lifesteal smp au

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ✦

𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲: songfic (mostly fluff)
𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀: swagdoons
𝘁𝘄: n/a
𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆: n/a (ty to Oceanic_Joy for the song though, also _goaty_P wanted swagdoons when i got back from vacay lmao)
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁: ash wonders how in the world he'll ever find a way to measure up to (be worthy of) reddoons

─── ⋅☆⋅ ───

𝐏𝐎𝐕: ash

if i could begin to be
half of what you think of me
i could do about anything
i could even learn how to love

Ash knew, somewhere in the far reaches of his subconscious, that the city street was far from deserted. But when Redd was there, he never seemed to find the energy to care about that fact. The feeling of his hand, unreasonably warm even for a cloudy summer afternoon, fingers tangled tightly in his own, felt like fiery static running through his veins, a hazy quiet hum that clouded his brain and made it hard to remember the fact they were only walking down the sidewalk, just another unremarkable day.
They strolled along, no real purpose in mind, Ash losing himself in the gentle flow of one-sided conversation. Redd never seemed to run out of things to say, and he never seemed to run out of space in his head to fit every insignificant little word, his mind meticulously filing away the sentences while his gaze drifted away, more often than not finding itself somewhere on Redd.
He wouldn't deny it, the fact he'd despised Redd, at first. If only because of the way he effortlessly drew him in with that perfectly white businessman's grin; the searing warmth of his hands sending bursts of lava through his blood wherever they touched; the inherent bit of magic in every word that came from his mouth, no matter how unimportant; the sunglasses that constantly twinkled at him with something, some feeling, that Ash was never able to place.
He didn't understand why, exactly- why he'd never been able to figure out Redd, why he kept talking, on and on, insisting they were friends, how at some point beyond time and memory the words finally felt like they rang true. He didn't understand Redd, he wasn't sure if he ever would, and he certainly didn't understand the feelings he experienced whenever he found himself near him.
He felt them now, a secret fluttering hidden somewhere in his chest, as Redd raised a hand and waved it in front of his face, impossibly close and yet miles away, removing him from the world of his thoughts. "Hello? Earth to Ashswag-" He blinks, startled, and turns to look at Redd, only to find he's already staring at his face.
"Huh?" he manages to mumble in reply, having not quite found himself in the moment yet. Redd quirks an eyebrow at him, glasses sparkle in the sun, no doubt finding his slow reply out of character for him.
"You're being really quiet today," he remarks, voice pitched just that bit higher, as it always was whenever he was trying to make himself sound casual. "Something on your mind?" He turns again, back to facing the sidewalk, but Ash can't seem to turn his head, the nerve connections to his neck temporarily severed, he can't quite move because he isn't really there yet, so he keeps walking, staring at Redd through the frame of static and flesh.
"I-" He hesitates, because he realizes that he has been quiet, and wonders where the part of him is that revels in snappy replies and prying annoyance out of everyone he talks to, most especially Redd. Today it is dead, a withered part of his brain overgrown with thorns and roses that strangle it for air. There are a thousand things on his mind, and a response is not one. "No, not really."
"Hm." Redd hums agreement from beside him, and the faint thrum of his voice runs through his hand and into Ash's fingers, a calming tingling feeling. "You're not even gonna complain about how much I talk?"
"...No." He'd have liked to reply any other way, falsify his feelings behind arrogance and sass, but he cannot find a single word fitting of what he has to say, an easy cover for the truth. In the end, Redd's voice sticks to his brain like honey, so sweet he never seems to stop wanting more.
Redd chuckles, a low series of musical notes that fall from his mouth and into a little jar in his mind, bottled up mirth that he drinks like beer on lonely quiet nights. "Wow. Never thought I'd see the day that the Ashswag started to enjoy my talking."
"I'm not enjoying it, Redd." His voice comes back to him, its usual sarcastic tone, only because it fits nicely over the truth. He is not enjoying it- he is savoring it, absorbing every little detail within, holding the words close like fire on a cold winter evening.
Redd rolls his eyes behind the glasses, sparkling in beams of light that shine into Ash's eye and nearly blind him, were it not for the fact that his feelings had already done the job. "Whatever you say."
They walk on in silence for a while, a silence of summer nights and fireflies and streetlights and the soft smell of cologne and cinnamon and fresh rain. Ash floats just above it, watching the scene like a silent movie, while his body walks forwards, holding hands with Reddoons.
"You know," Redd begins, after a moment of hesitation of his own, just a little quieter than usual as it was when he had something important to say, gaze fixed forwards while Ash stared. "I really enjoy this- like, just us. Walking. You know?" He smiles, fingers tighten imperceptibly around his hand, and Ash does know, but cannot find the words to express this. So he stays silent.
Redd tries to fill the silence that follows, stumbling awkwardly over words, because being blunt with someone is a difficult business, and Ash knows because he's tried so many times before, and failed, so he disguises his words beneath neat painted prose with meanings between the lines. "I- maybe- even if you are kind of annoying sometimes. Even if I don't really understand you. I think you're a pretty good friend, Ash."
He knows he does not fit the description of "good friend" in the slightest, chalk drawing of a body splayed out all wrong, a piece of another puzzle. But Redd seems to think so, redrawing outlines, shoving pieces in even if they break. "Oh. Thanks, I guess."
It is in no way the best reply, but it satisfies Redd, who gives him that confidential sunshine smile and turns back to keep walking, talking, being Reddoons. Ash thinks about the feelings, blooming like flowers in the wind, and knows somewhere in himself that they're for Redd, and finds it strange he's willing to accept them someday, and maybe so much more.