In which you and Ashton have this friends with benefits thing going on, and you want more but he doesn't
Also shirtless Ashton because I'm giving the people what they want. Or what I want. Maybe a little bit of both.
Fuck he's attractive.
//
"I dunno, I guess I've just been thinking...I kind of want more than drunk sex and leaving at 6 am."
Light filters through the thin curtains of Ashton's bedroom. He's standing in his boxers by the window, his back turned to me. It's a view I'm starting to get used to. On the rare mornings where I don't sneak out of his house at the crack of dawn, this is how we wake up to each other. He says a brisk good morning and gets up, and I lie back against the pillows, half-naked and guiltily wishing he would have woken me with a kiss, or by wrapping his arms around me.
I didn't use to want him like this. For nearly six months I've been content with a quick text telling me to come over. It's been fun. I won't pretend I don't like partying with him, and I won't pretend the sex isn't good, but I guess I realised I never see him when we aren't drunk or high, and I started wanting more. I wanted to know him, know more than the snippets of information I get. I wanted to wake up next to him and not feel obliged to leave.
But I wasn't planning on saying anything. Because there's no way a guy like Ashton Irwin could ever feel anything vaguely romantic for me. I was going to keep quiet until our affair fizzled, and then I'd never have to think about him again. At least, that's what I hoped would happen. That's what I needed to happen.
And then he said 'Last night was fun", and I was stupid and blurted out "It was, but I kind of want more."
"What do you mean?"
"I dunno, I guess I've just been thinking...I kind of want more than drunk sex and leaving at 6 am."
I regret it as soon as the words leave my lips, and I feel even worse when he turns his back to me, and now I can't even read his face.
"That was stupid...I know you don't-look I'll just leave now."
I hastily swing my legs out of bed and reach for my dress, which is discarded at the foot of the bed.
"Y/N, I just don't have time for a relationship right now."
He's looking at me as I pull on a bra and my dress, a tiny black thing that he's said he likes a few times. I'll tell myself I didn't wear it to impress him, but I'd be lying to myself.
"Yeah, I totally get that. Forget I said anything."
//
Ashton's POV
As soon as she walks out the door, I regret it.
It's true, I don't have time for a relationship. But I'd make time for her.
I don't know the exact moment I started noticing her. Really noticing her. Noticing the way her hair fell over her shoulder, noticing the way her laugh made my heart beat a little faster, noticing the way her lips lifted before she smiled.
I wanted to know the little things about her. I wanted to know how she took her coffee, or if she liked coffee at all, and what her favourite colour is, and her favourite food. I wanted to be able to kiss her good morning or kiss her just for fun. I wanted to text her to come over not to have sex, but to watch a movie and just be.
And she wanted that too. After hours of telling myself she never would, she told me she wanted more.
And I pushed her away.
Out of fear? Probably. The truth is I'm terrified of how I feel about her. These feelings came out of nowhere, hit me like a truck and now they won't leave.
I don't want these feelings, but at the same time I'm terrified of losing them.
But I guess I'm weak, because all I do is lie on the side of the bed I've grown used to her occupying, and breath in the smell of her perfume.
