Chapter Text
As Ashton walked into his apartment, bag being flung off his shoulder and hitting the floor with a thud, he groaned a long tired groan and threw himself onto their couch, ready for the day to be done. He’d been at work for more hours than he’d like to think about, but it was fine, because now he had the long weekend to sleep and not have anything else to deal with.
“Smiley da- er, night to ya, Ashton!” His roomie, a diminutive olive skinned man by the astonishingly amazing name of Fresh Cut Grass, said, walking in from their kitchen. “Didn’t realize you’d be done with yer big job this soon, I could have gotten some food ready.”
Ashton just kept his eyes shut and gave a mumbled ‘hmm’ as the other came and joined him on the couch. “What’re you watching?” He said, slowly sitting up so there would be more room for his friend. As he shifted and got into position, his eyes drifted towards the screen, only to see his own face staring back at him. “-the fuck?” His thoughts felt slow, and his own television appearance wasn’t helping much.
“Yer season is finally airing! Isn’t it great?” F.C.G. said with a smile, passing a glass of water to Ashton to help him keep hydrated, because of course they did… They always were looking out for Ashton like that. “I thought it’d be kind of fun to watch it together!”.
Personally, Ashton wanted to just shut himself in his room for a while, but he knew it’d been too long since the two of them actually hung out due to their schedules. ‘Grass must see some of his trepidation, because the other backs off a bit, voice falling. “Or, I know you must be tired after today. It was a pretty long one.”
Oh, hell… he hated hearing FCG like that. Gah, just knowing he was disappointing the other, Ashton couldn’t help the tired sigh that came out. While he wanted to do this with Fresh Cut Grass, he really did need at least some sleep before he’d be any sort of good company.
“Tell you what,” Ashton said, sitting up and turning to look at the other. “Let's put this on hold, I have tomorrow off, and we can watch whatever episodes have been released so far, make a whole thing of this.”
That perked up their friend considerably, with FCG almost jumping out of their seat at the invite. “Oh! Well, that sounds just swell! We could make some snacks too, really just have fun with it.”
“Yeah, I’ll remake some of the dishes from the show, tell you all the ‘secret’ techniques they tend to make such a big deal out of, all the backstage drama and behind the scenes shit.” Ashton’s smirk was palpable as he also grew more fond of the idea.
“Can you really remake them? Don’t they have a big ol’ set up and special or expensive ingredients and equipment?”
Ashton couldn’t help but scoff, “Honestly, they may try and make it look all fancy and nice,” he said with an eye roll, “but that fuck fest didn’t spend more than they needed to on getting the good stuff. I’ll double check what we have here, and maybe swing by the store in the morning, but they didn’t have anything that I can’t easily get my hands on”.
That seemed to settle any worries FCG had, and instead they relaxed back on to the couch, smiling the bright smile Ashton always gets when he makes his friend happy.
Holding back a yawn, Ashton stands up and stretches, “Alright, with that settled, I’m going to crash.” He takes a moment longer to stretch, purposely keeping his body open to signal ‘Grass that tonight was an okay night for touching. The other quickly stood up and went for a hug, hands lightly gripping the back of their jacket.
“Sleep well, Ashton”, Fresh Cut Grass said as they let go, and Ashton finally got a chance to just crash in his room.
“The fuck is this shit?” Ashton choked back a laugh at how the show was portraying the contest. Had he not actually lived through it, Ashton would have believed it was a legit, perfectly run, no problems to be had, production, but as it stood now, they could only give props to the editors who were able to compile the mess that had been the show.
FCG and Ashton had been having a blast the entire day, talking smack and sharing laughs of just whatever the hell chaos went on in the show.
Okay, Ashton was the main contributor, but F.C.G. knew just the right questions to ask to get them started on all the juicy details of the behind the scenes. The little guy was the one to notice how awkward one of the other contestants was moving, making some strange sounds as well. They voiced their concern that she had had some sort of injury, but Ashton knew it had been because her uniform, completely provided by the company as all of theirs were, had been mishandled by the cleaners or some other shit, and they just had her deal with it.
Ashton couldn’t remember if she had ended up with a different wrong fitted outfit, or just dealt with her measured one. He did know that either way, it would have been uncomfortable. It was also after that that Ashton decided to take care of his uniform, ignoring the producer’s warning that any damage to it would come out of Ashton’s pocket.
Hell, like he could do worse than they already did.
They were a little worried about it, once it got in their hands and they saw the strange tag with the ‘instructions’ on how to wash and clean it. Ashton remembers sitting on the couch in the main gathering area, holding the cloth and squinting, trying to decipher it, when Orym had come into the shared space. The other had also taken their uniform into their own hands and had far more knowledge about all of that shit than Ashton had, and had gladly offered to help the other cook with theirs as well.
That had been before all the shit went down during the competition, and Ashton hadn’t thought anything of it, but now as they thought back to those moments, it only built on the already impressive image and character Orym had become in Ashton’s mind.
Thinking on it now, Ashton was surprised the guy was even a part of, what they knew now, was a cheap company looking to get free views and money from young and stupid down on their luck bakers who apparently couldn’t take the time to think for a single moment to realize that maybe these weren’t the best people to try and make a deal with, and the whole thing just ended up being a mess-
“You better not be thinkin’ of mean things about yerself, Ashton.” Fresh Cut Grass’ voice cut through Ashton’s thoughts, and they turned to look at their friend. “I know that face you were making.” The shorter man continued.
“‘Grass, c’mon, I-”
“No,” They cut in, “No matter how disrespectful and… sloppy I suppose-” he said delicately, “-the show runners were, it was still a good experience for you.”
Ashton rolled his eyes.
“It was fun! You said so yerself when you got back. You loved getting to meet the other contestants and show off your skills”
That’s not exactly what he said. He loved meeting Orym . Honestly, the others didn’t stand out too much in his mind. Speaking of Orym, they were finally on the episode that Ashton completely derailed. He shifted in his seat and grunted out a “yeah, whatever” to his roommate, and instead turned his attention back to the screen.
They had completely erased it.
Ashton felt stupid the moment he thought it. Of course they would erase it. Ableist shit like that, or rather someone pointing it out would never have gotten through post-production.
Again, kudos to the show’s editors though.
Ashton had walked up to the judges, but the angle they chose hid his second plate. He walked up to the judges, and then it cut to the judges. This part had to have been filmed at a later time because those were not the same faces they were making at the time. The voice over was of Ashton himself, as he had calmly explained and shared his dish with Orym, there were shots of them eating the dish (the mess that Ashton had put down in front of them. Never the whole plate, but just the fork being raised to their mouths… nothing to give away what had actually happened. The show even managed to get a clean shot of the food as it was presented to Orym. If you weren’t paying attention, the hand holding the plate could have been one of the judges.
Ashton knew though. They knew those small hands, fingers gently curled around the rim, were Orym’s. They knew the face Orym was making right at that moment. The wide eyes, the small amount of surprise, like he doesn’t fucking deserve to be thought of and taken care of like that. Ashton knew that that food had been made for one purpose, and one purpose only. The producers could hide it all they want, but Ashton knew, and nothing could change that.
Ashton knew that Orym’s confused frown had turned into a smile, one too soft to be for rough, arrogant, rude, asshat Ashton, but it was… It was a smile for Ashton, because he did what should have been the bare minimum and showed a bit of common decency, and yet… Ashton knew it meant more to Orym… it meant more to them too.
A thought came to his mind, and he startled at it, almost dropping his bowl of snacks. A thought came, and it was a fucking bad one, because why the hell should he want to watch the rest of these episodes? Why should he subject himself to this over again, to the reminders of how shitty the production was, to the issues that came up, to everything that this was?
Why should he want to watch these final episodes.. but with Orym right alongside him?
Lounging on the couch, their hands slipped into their pocket, playing with the phone where Orym’s number was stored. They had been chatting a bit with each other since the production had wrapped up, but they hadn’t met up again, not really. This could be a good excuse to get together.
Once the thought came, it wouldn’t leave, and Ashton’s mind just kept coming up with more things they could do together.
‘ Fuck…’
They still needed to cook another dessert for Orym to make up for the previous one’s allergic reaction.
The two of them could easily bake together on something, either have their own little competition with none of the stupid rules in place from the show, or they could work on something together…. They could bake.
FCG had found a roller skating rink they’ve been wanting to try out, Ashton could finally concede and have Orym bring some friends too, get a whole group for it…
Ashton glanced at the dwarf to his side, trying to ignore how the other was also giving them side glances, smiling like they know what the other is thinking of doing..
The episode was wrapping up, his thoughts too jumbled to have been paying attention to most of it. Groaning out loud, their hands gripped their phone, and they made their choice. “You mind if I watch these episodes without you?” Ashton says, keeping his eyes on the screen and trying to ignore the flush rising in his cheeks..
Even though they couldn’t see it, Ashton knew ‘Fresh Cut Grass was smiling like they always do when they think Ashton is doing something good. “Oh, no, I think it’d be super sweet if you watch them with Orym!”
The fuck he have to say it out loud like that! The last bits of him trying to stay in control left, and he quickly stood up, gripping his hair in embarrassment, “Gah!! Why!?, It’s not that big a deal, ‘Grass!” Stomping into the kitchen to start putting away some of their mess, they tried to just keep from meeting FCG’s face.
“I know it’s not, I just think it’s sweet.” He’s smiling, Ashton can tell, just by the fucker’s voice. “Now, why don’t you leave that to me, and you can get to invitin’ yer man. Don’t want you pullin’ out now.”
Ashton was happy they had just used their cheap stuff, because he slammed the larger bowl down far harder than he meant to as a jolt of arousal ran through him at the thought of ' your man’’, and how he definitely didn’t want to pull out now.
Others might think the dwarf was naive, but Ashton knew, he knew that fucker said what he said, because Ashton loved it. Love it, and hated it, because those were the words to get him to commit to the invite, and he hated commitment of any kind, but he wanted this for himself. He wanted Orym, and he wanted to get to know Orym, and maybe it’d turn into something more, but maybe it’d also turn into something else , and it’s been such a long time since he did something like this for himself. He hadn’t wanted it for himself, but Orym made him want to try, to expand his circle of trust just that bit more.
“..Thanks, Fresh.” They said with a sigh of resignation, smiling a bit, because they knew the other was just trying to help, and he knew that in the long run, it would be better to try than regret. He turned to walk back to his room, giving an affectionate rub to FCG’s head as they passed. They don’t often do good feelings and hopeful shit, but as he pulled out his phone and brought up Orym’s number, he let himself have a bit of hope that this will all work out.