Pet [m/m]

Ash Cameron snapped back to awareness the moment something cold touched his neck.

“I’m not sleeping!” he hissed, swatting it away. He turned on the chair and sent his sister a withering glare in time to see Layla shove the ice cube in her mouth. Done with that, she beamed and leaned her hip against the edge of Ash’s desk, crossing her arms over her breasts.

“Sure you weren’t,” she drawled sarcastically while fluttering her lashes. “You weren’t drooling either, right?” she snorted when he automatically wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared again, feeling the way his whole face grew far too hot. To cover it, he looked down at the notes that were scattered across the surface of his desk, and Ash grimaced. The essay he had been working on – when he dozed off – looked as if someone pulled it out of the dog’s throat.

Perhaps I could use that as an excuse, he thought to himself, trying to straighten the crumpled page.

“Do you need something?” He asked without looking at his sister.

“Kind of,” Layla snorted again as she pushed away from the desk, then inelegantly flopped on the edge of his bed – no less messy than the desk. “I want to offer you a deal, little brother,” she leaned back on her arms while putting one leg on top of the other.

“Whatever it is, I don’t have the time,” he sighed, then turned sideways in his chair and frowned toward her far-too-innocent smirk.

Two years older, Layla Cameron was undeniably pretty. She had shoulder-length red hair – precisely the same shade as Ash’s – surrounding her heart-shaped face, and her dark blue eyes most commonly seemed brighter with the typical for them cheer. Her outfit – a matching set of pink sweats – suggested that she was free today, which wasn’t very common. Between their studies and part-time jobs, neither of them had much free time, and that thought made Ash grimace as he tossed a glance toward the watch on his wrist.

Raised together by a single mother, they were extremely close. In not that far-off teenage years, while most guys his age were busy chasing skirts, Ash, alongside Layla, was swallowing an unhealthy number of romantic novels, series, and movies – fully enabled by their Mom, Skye, who honestly believed that one’s gender didn’t matter when it came to interests.

Considering their precarious financial situation, he caught whatever part-time job he could find around their small town whenever Ash wasn’t daydreaming about true love or studying. Same as Layla, with whom he shared an honest yearning to one day be able to provide for their Mom a comfortable life in gratitude for her sacrifices in raising them. After their father disappeared when Ash was a year-old – leaving behind only a note about how ‘adult’ life sucked – watching their Mom struggle to provide for them was very clear and stark in Ash’s mind. But even working two – sometimes three – jobs at the time, she never complained or blamed them for her difficult situation. Herself being orphaned at a very young age, and despite having no other support than an elderly widow who insisted on watching them while she worked, their Mom regarded them like her treasures.

When he and Layla started working, their Mom refused to let them add to the bills, instead having them save whatever they earned toward their further education. While she got pregnant with Layla and married their father in the last year of high school, she was very adamant about wanting them to have a brighter future. A future that in their small town they wouldn’t be able to get.

After high school, despite graduating atop her class, Layla decided to take a two-year break and fully focus on working and saving up until Ash also finished school. She openly admitted – without shame and only laughing about it – that she was scared of moving to a bigger city for college without him. In the end, that ‘break’ afforded them renting a not very big but cozy apartment with two bedrooms when they did move, and it was something that he could only be grateful for. Because, despite keeping up the brave face, the city honestly terrified Ash.

Not only the city itself, being overwhelming enough, but the college too. On the very first day, he was insanely relieved to see his best friend, Sarah, during the beginning ceremony. Sharing at least some of his classes with her again was a relief, no matter how otherwise school was hell.

Ash quickly realized that the people raised in the city were very different from what he was used to. It wasn’t that hard to notice that most of them treated college like one huge party. And while he understood the idea of networking – at least in theory – he preferred to stay out of sight and get by on merit alone. And not like he had the time for parties, between studies and his part-time job. He already considered it lucky that the owner of the internet café he worked at didn’t mind that Ash spent a huge amount of time during his shifts – mainly in the evening when it tended to be mostly empty – on studying. The café was situated near his campus too, so in the evenings and weekends, it was a ghost town – with most students out partying or curing hangovers.

While Layla earned much more from her gig at the restaurant that tended to draw in the more affluent crowd, and with them sharing bills and household chores depending on their schedules, Ash thought that they went by pretty well. His aspirations weren’t that huge, but – if allowed by his scores – he planned to apply for a teaching position at the other college in their town. It was sitting on the other side of the city from his, and – teacher-wise – had the reputation of accepting only the best on a wholly merit-based system. At least that was the information about it that Ash gathered from various rumors and websites, and it seemed like a given that he believed that should be an over-the-board standard for all the schools sponsored by federal funding. Honestly, if he had known better at the time, that would be the college that he would have tried to get into. His scores in high school were good enough that – after checking that online – they would give him a pretty plausible place on their long waiting list… if – obviously – he wasn’t blindsided by the scholarship. When he learned about it – and somewhat timidly discussed that with Layla – she eagerly encouraged him to apply for a transfer to a better school, but that’s when they learned that by signing the application for the scholarship, he obligated himself to attend the college that he was at. His sister – after they consulted the snide counselor with neither of them having much knowledge about the law – bitterly suggested that the school purposefully bound good students like him into stupid contact via this scholarship so they raise the overall scores of – what it looked like for them – the idiot children of the people rich enough to buy them a blanket immunity and high grades.

“I have about two hours to finish this,” he said, motioning toward the crumbled pages. Then he would need to take an extremely quick shower and get to his part-time job at a nearby internet café. His fault, because he would already be done with that essay if he didn’t fall asleep… but there was no point in crying over spilled milk. The paper was due in the morning, so he still could take it to work and rewrite it on the computer. He did plan to print it in the café, anyway, considering they didn’t have a printer. “So…?” He hummed, turning back toward the desk and gathering the pages into a neat pile.

“How would you like to be free from chores for a week, Ash?” Layla asked, and he froze mid-move, then turned and tossed her a highly suspicious stare when she grinned, pressing her right hand over her heart. “I’m serious.”

“Okay… Who do you want me to kill?” He drawled, leaving the mess on his desk in favor of looking at her. If there was one thing he hated more than the chores about their home… Well, he couldn’t remember anything he liked to do less. And it was a sentiment that he knew his sister shared.

“Who…? Don’t be so melodramatic,” Layla snorted, and he grinned involuntarily, shifting to sit sideways on his chair. His room was small and, other than the one-person bed she sat on, an open closet, and his desk, the rest of the space was consumed by the books stacked on the floor. While most were connected to his studies – ancient history – others, set aside, were his own. And not doing the chores would mean that – maybe – he would have finally some spare time to read them… or sleep more than a few hours, caught here and there. “But, yeah, I need a favor.”

“What is it?” Ash asked impatiently, though he was already certain that he would do that… Well, short of a very few things. And watching the way her smirk turned wicked, he felt a foreboding sense of premonition sink in his gut. Especially when he did remember that there was one thing that he hated more than the chores…

“A blind date,” Layla said and laughed when Ash groaned loudly in reply. “Come on! It’s on Valentine's!”

“Hard pass,” he muttered, grimacing as he turned back toward his desk. That – his sister’s attempts to set him up – he did hate more than even washing the dishes… Which he hated with passion!

“Don’t be like that!” Layla whined, and though he didn’t hear her move, he groaned again when she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and leaned heavily against his back. “It’s already arranged!”

“Still pass,” he scowled, fruitlessly attempting to dislodge her vise-like grip. “You shouldn’t set anything up with some poor, unsuspecting person without asking me first, sis.”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” she said with amusement, refusing to let go as she rested her chin on top of his head. “Theo won a bet with his best friend.”

“That’s even worse!” Ash groaned, rubbing his face before he sent her a glare over his shoulder. Layla didn’t seem that intimidated, which was predictable – while she finally leaned away, but not before meaningfully touching the white scar covering his face.

When she wasn’t studying at the same college he did, Layla worked part-time as a waitress in a pretty high-end restaurant. That was where she met her boyfriend, Theo Ellis, about six months ago. Though only a month ago, Layla brought him home and introduced them, Ash genuinely liked the tall blonde guy with green eyes, who tended to grin a lot. He did suspect that the dude was so friendly because of Layla, of course, but he could also see on more than a few occasions that Theo seemed to genuinely care about his sister. Well, more like he seemed to be completely – and surprisingly openly – head-over-heels in love with her, and seeing that did make Ash feel envious sometimes…

He grimaced again, turning away from Layla’s far-too-knowing gaze as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

When Ash was five, he had an unfortunate encounter with a dog of their neighbors that left a wide and nasty scar on the left side of his face and torso – a huge reason behind the fact that he didn’t date.

Ever.

Another reason was that though he found that he was attracted to both men and women, naively sharing that fact with the wrong person had made him a pariah at their school.

“Come on!” Layla whined without shame, nudging his back until he had to lean against the desk. “Don’t be like that, Ash. I swear, his friend is really… something else,” her tone sounded suspicious enough that he turned his head and sent her a highly dubious look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, keeping his tone neutral while watching as she snorted and then again flopped on the edge of his bed. “You met her, then?”

“Him,” Layla corrected with a cheeky grin, and Ash blinked rapidly. “His name is Bastian Rivas, and he has been Theo’s best friend since childhood. A fun fact is that all of Bastian’s friends are already trying to set him up for quite some time, but to no avail. They even have a betting pool running about who’s going to succeed!” she snorted at the sight of his expression. “And before you ask: he’s gorgeous and openly gay but extremely picky.”

“That…” he trailed off, genuinely unsure what to say.

“And he’s nice,” she hurried to add, and her whole expression turned into an epitome of innocence. “You know I wouldn’t agree if he wasn’t, Ash. I met him a few times with Theo, and I’m sure you’re going to like him. So… please? I swear, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll never ask you again!”

“Layla, I don’t think…” he started, involuntarily touching his face and grimacing. He didn’t care whether that person was a guy or a girl, but the few dates she coerced him into taught Ash that there were a few things more humiliating than seeing either pity or disgust, which he was used to when confronted with strangers.

“Believe me, he doesn’t care about appearance,” his sister shook her head, smiling hopefully. “So, please? Two weeks off chores? And even if it’s a bust, I’ll still do everything around the apartment, okay?”

Ash considered it as his hand dropped into his lap, and then he sighed with resignation and nodded. Reluctantly, but his sister still beamed with relief.

“Awesome!” She jumped to her feet and headed toward the door of his bedroom. “I’ll call Theo and tell him it’s on… You’re not going to regret it, Ash, I promise!” she sent him another big grin before closing the door. And once she did, he dropped his head on the desk with a soundless groan.

Not very surprisingly, he was already regretting it!

Bastian regretted agreeing to the bet until he lost. It was a damn stupid one, too, considering he knew he couldn’t drink for shit. Still, at the time – with already a few drinks too much – Theo’s dare got him to drink more – far too much – and he woke up the next day to his best friend crooning the win and to a raging hangover.

Theo’s prize was something Bastian hated – more than anything else in the whole goddamn world – which was of course another blind date. With a wide circle of friends – increasingly missing in singles – it was like fucking disease how all of them seemed bent to set him up. He honestly lost count of how many times he was ‘accidentally’ introduced to every freaking gay/bi guy they could find – and at times he wondered if somewhere out there on the internet they put up an ad or something.

He should expect it, too, after Theo wouldn’t stop singing the praises of his girlfriend’s younger brother. Bastian liked Layla just fine – more than other girls his friend used to date even – but it didn’t mean that he was interested in meeting her kid brother, no matter how Theo whined, swearing the dude was cute, if a bit reticent. That by itself sounded like a red flag, reminding him of the last time Zara, his other friend, set him up with a guy she also described as ‘reticent’ and Bastian spent an evening swearing vengeance. Praying for her words to be true, which they weren’t because the moment the dude opened his mouth, Bastian’s ears wilted.

He still had no idea how his friend could even stand working in the same office if he strongly suspected that guy had a gag as a standard part of his equipment... or something. He never before - or later – heard as unpleasant voice, for fuck’s sake.

He wasn’t – as often accused – fucking picky. He just had standards, and those didn’t account for guys chewing out poor waitresses who seemed as unhappy to be there as Bastian felt. And he did not tolerate assholes who attempted to make themselves feel important at someone else's expanse. But he did have quite a temper... and ended the evening by slamming the dude’s face against the table to teach him good manners.

Zara rolling her eyes aside, that was pretty satisfying.

Bastian also rolled his eyes – the evening his loss culminated in yet another blind date. He couldn’t help it when a familiar waitress sent him a sympathetic smile before leading him to an empty table in the back. He was by this point in the same place – for the very same reason – so many times he suspected she had his usual order memorized by now. It was confirmed when the blonde didn’t even ask him to order, but a short moment later brought a chilled glass of cherry Coke from the bar. He accepted it with a smile – as her confidential wink – that turned rueful at the reminder of how many times already he ended the evening by splashing the same drink in the face of many of his dates.

He wasn’t even sure if that was the effect of his unlucky mug – or something else – but the rate of guys who thought the offer of quick fuck in the bathroom was something he would be into, was downright staggering! It was nearly as bad as the times women ‘confused’ his table for theirs and refused to get lost.

He was half-considering writing a manifesto – to present to each of his friends who were currently in a relationship – with the list of reasons why a person with his face shouldn’t be bribed/tricked/coerced in the fucking blind dates! He was at point five when a sudden noise startled him out of staring at the bubbles shimmering on the surface of the drink.

“Bastian?” Hesitant word – his name – in a voice that made his fingers clench around the glass a bare second before his eyes shot up, was something to hear. He wasn’t sure – thinking of it later – who was more surprised that moment, he or the cute blue-eyed redhead who flinched with those cobalt eyes shooting far too wide. Then he was given a smile – so sweet and shy his mouth ran dry – that looked very sheepish. “Sorry, my mistake,” the guy chuckled in the most fucking musical sound Bastian heard in his whole goddamn life and... bolted.

...leaving Bastian staring open-mouthed and completely confused.

He snapped his mouth shut, frowning as he watched the guy retreat to the waitress at the front of the busy restaurant. Then he leaned back and bit the inside of his cheek when the familiar blonde led the redhead right back to his table, unaware of how big those cobalt eyes were getting behind her back. When she stopped, pointing to the empty seat, the dude didn’t seem to know where to look – his face completely and adorably red – while he muttered stammering thanks and sat down, asking for a glass of water. Only when he did, Bastian noticed the scar on his face, but that still somehow took nothing away from the very distinctively adorable face.

The silence was deafening until Bastian snorted, startling these blue eyes to look his way as the guy’s face went even redder.

“Bastian, yes,” he finally got to answer, and the redhead smiled ruefully, folding his hands on the edge of the table.

“I’m sorry,” the guy whispered, looking at his fingers. “You just...”

“Don’t look like someone set up on dates?” He asked wryly, smiling when those cobalt eyes darted toward his face and away, accompanied by a delicate shrug. “You would be surprised...?”

“Ash,” the redhead offered, with another hesitant peek toward his face. “And... You don’t look like someone who studies veterinary,” It sounded accusatory, and Bastian grinned involuntarily. He was getting that a lot, anyway.

“Looks can be deceiving,” he stated sagely, smiling toward the waitress when she set the glass in front of his company, placed menus in the middle of the table, and wandered off. “I’m told that I’m good with animals.”

Especially those skittish, he couldn’t help but think, seeing another nervous and brief look toward his face.

“And you study?” He asked, pulling one of the menus toward him and opening it at a random page. Only in his peripheral vision, he observed how the tense line of Ash’s shoulders relaxed delicately.

“Umm, history,” he replied, finally unfolding his hands to pull between them the glass with water. “Of ancient Rome and Greece, in particular.”

“Neat,” he looked up and caught his stare, smiling when the redhead froze like a deer in headlights. For once, Bastian was grateful for his stupid face – which was new – watching those blue irises glaze over. And for once, he didn’t mind the obvious interest, considering as scarce as they were, words in Ash’s distinctive voice sounded like soothing balm for his ears. “And what do you do for fun, Ash?”

“Ah...” A blink, and that gaze escaped him again. “I l-like to read. You?”

“I don’t have much free time, but when I do, I like to tinker with stuff,” he admitted, then motioned toward the other menu. “Not hungry?”

“Um,” he could see the way he swallowed convulsively, then took a deep breath and cleared his throat before Ash looked straight into his eyes. The raw vulnerability behind those cobalt irises made the painful sensation form a tight grip around Bastain's throat. “Listen, it’s all right. You don’t have to pretend or... be n-nice. I’ll tell Layla it was okay, so your friend doesn’t get in trouble. So,” he looked away and pushed his seat back, then looked about to stand. Before he could, Bastian’s hand launched across the table and locked around Ash's wrist, making the guy freeze up again.

He waited – patiently – until those cobalt eyes hesitantly caught his gaze.

“I’m not nice,” he deadpanned, then shook his head slowly, while watching his skittish kitten nervously bite his lower lip. His mouth was gorgeous, too, full and plush, and Bastian was momentarily blinded by the image of these pretty lips wrapped around his cock. The pang of arousal with it was brutal, nearly as stark as the earlier need to wrap him up in a protective cocoon. And, funnily enough, Ash looked completely unaware of how he pushed all his buttons just right. “So keep that cute behind seated, babe, before I teach you the risk of running,” he growled, too soft for anyone else to hear, and being an observant – and obsessive – fucker, he didn’t miss the way his kitten caved. The noise that left his mouth – breathy and submissive – pushed his buttons all at once...

...and Bastian was instantly hooked, for once thrilled to lose a bet.