Work Text:
One advantage—the only advantage, really—of Eiji still being stuck in Japan is that no one Ash is living with knows when his birthday is.
And that's absolutely a blessing.
Not that Ash really thinks Max and Jess would do anything about it. They're not like Dino. Ash has been living with them for a few months now, and that's very clear. They're not like Dino.
But still, Ash knows that it's for the best if they just ... don't know. If Ash just casually doesn't mention his birthday, and it passes without incident.
It's not like they've thought to ask when his birthday is, anyway, so clearly they don't care. And—that's a good thing. Not caring is far better than ...
Than what Ash is used to.
Ash doesn't want to call his birthday a trigger, necessarily. That would be stupid, anyway, and if he starts thinking like that, he'll have to start calling fucking everything a trigger. And he's not really ready to acknowledge exactly how scared he is of everything all the time.
But he's dreading it, anyway. He can admit that much, if only to himself. He's dreading his birthday.
God, he's so fucking scared.
The days leading up to August 12th are torture.
Ash is anxious, more so than usual, and terrified that he'll give something away. That somehow Max and Jess will know, and not only will they take advantage of the opportunity to hurt Ash, but they'll be pissed that he didn't mention it in the first place.
Everything he does is more reason for them to—
He feels sick.
"You okay, kid?" Max asks at breakfast one day. "It seems like you've been eating even less lately."
Ash stabs at his food pointedly with his fork. "I'm fine," he snaps, then winces at his own tone.
"If you're sick or anything, you can tell us, you know. We'll take care of you."
Yeah. Ash is real used to being taken care of by men like Max.
He doesn't respond, forcing himself to swallow at least a bite of the waffle instead of just pushing it around his plate like he has been. He really doesn't feel good, but he knows it's all in his head, just like everything else these days.
"I'm sorry," Ash says after a while. He cut up the waffle and meticulously piled it onto one side of his plate, so hopefully it looks like he ate more than just that one bite. "I'm gonna head upstairs."
Max and Jess have repeatedly told him that he can call it his room, but it isn't. It's their house. He's not even paying rent—they won't let him—so it sure as hell isn't his room.
Still, he feels safer there than he does anywhere else in the house. They even let him keep the bedroom door. He hasn't bothered testing the lock—he knows there's no chance it works. Still, it's nice that they give him the illusion of privacy, or anything close to it. It's more than Ash is used to.
Ash curls up on the bed in the upstairs room, pulling the thin blanket over himself. He gets cold easily, and Max and Jess keep the house colder than he would like it, but he's afraid to ask for another blanket. They have blankets that aren't in use in the living room, but they'd notice if one went missing—or if not, they'd recognize it if they ever came into Ash's room.
Ash could lift one from a store, but he's trying to be honest, now, and quit doing that kind of shit. He's thought about getting a job, but his mind keeps going back to the same job he's used to, and he doesn't ... doesn't want to. He doesn't want to do that anymore.
He closes his eyes. He's almost nineteen. He's been legal for a year, but he could definitely still pass as underage—especially if he tried to, playing it up.
He brings his hands in close to his chest, wrists together. He's depriving Max and Jessica of their chance to fuck him while he's still eighteen ...
That was how Dino would always advertise him leading up to his birthday. The last chance to have him before he aged up to the next year. And then, of course, there was a new appeal once he did age up—the word barely added onto his age for the next couple months. Not barely legal, like he is now, but barely double digits or barely thirteen or whatever the occasion called for.
He really should tell Max and Jess ...
He's just so—so afraid. He doesn't want to be like that anymore. Like he used to. He doesn't want to do that stuff anymore.
There's a knock on the bedroom door, and Ash is silent. Maybe they'll think he's asleep. But after a bit, Jessica's voice comes through: "Ash? Can I come in?"
"... Yeah," Ash calls softly. He's not going to tell her no in her own house. Not to anything she wants from him.
Ash sits up as she opens the door, keeping the blanket draped over most of his body as though it offers some false protection.
Jessica sits down at the foot of the bed, away from where Ash is. "Michael is worried about you."
"He's only worried because you and Max make such a big deal out of everything with me," Ash mumbles. "If you two just didn't mention anything—"
"He'd still worry, Ash. He can tell that something is wrong. He's a kid, but he's not stupid."
I know that! Ash wants to snap, but he holds himself back. He doesn't need to give her even more reason to be upset with him.
After a bit, Jessica just sighs. She leans in toward Ash, but Ash avoids eye contact. Whatever she's going to do, it's not like Ash can do anything to stop it. It's not like he would.
Jess stands, and it takes everything in Ash not to flinch away from her.
Stupid whore, he tells himself. Just sit still and take it. Don't move away. You know better.
But Jessica takes a step away from him. And then another.
Ash watches her curiously. She pauses before she leaves the room, but all she says is, "You can talk to us, Ash. We're here for you, okay? We want to help."
She closes the door behind her when she leaves.
... Huh.
— — —
Ash avoids calls from Eiji, just in case Eiji happens to mention anything about Ash's birthday in a way that Jessica or Max might overhear. Or, worse—Michael. Ash doesn't know what he'd do if Michael found out and wanted to celebrate. He wouldn't be able to explain that Ash's birthday isn't a good thing, like Michael's is—that the way that you celebrate Ash's birthday isn't something that Ash wants to do.
He tries to avoid doing anything else that would cause suspicion from everyone, but he knows they're worried about him. They don't hide their concern. Still, Ash will take worry and concern over ...
He shudders.
Dino fucked Ash in the back of the Maserati before he was ever allowed to drive it. Ash remembers it vividly—he remembers a surprising amount of his times with Dino, despite how many blend together. It was his sixteenth birthday, and Ash had just hit a growth spurt despite how little he was eating, which Dino was pissed about. And it was so cramped in the car—Ash was hoping Dino would just grope him a bit, but he wanted to go all the way. Ash wasn't prepared for it—as he got older, Dino would give him even less preparation than before so that he still felt younger—and Ash had so badly been hoping that he'd have a day off ...
Ash curls in on himself in the bed, but after a while, everything feels all too familiar. The mattress is too soft, pulling him in, and he almost feels like he's tied to it again, though in reality his wrists and ankles are free.
He all but leaps off the bed, pulling the blanket with him onto the floor. He puts part of it under his body to soften the feeling of the wood laminate a bit, and the rest over him to guard from the cold.
He's getting Max and Jessica's blanket dirty from the floor ...
No dirtier than it already was from touching me, he counters himself, and that shuts his mind up.
He doesn't check the time, so he's not sure if he's asleep by midnight, when he turns nineteen.
— — —
Ash wakes up still tired, and stiff from sleeping on the floor.
He stretches, joints popping, before he remembers—it's his birthday.
He pauses at the thought, trying to make sure his breathing stays even. He can't betray anything when he goes downstairs. Or—he could just spend the whole day in this room. That's an option too.
But that would make them suspicious too ... Fuck.
Swallowing down his fear, Ash carefully descends the stairs.
"Ash!" Michael calls, running up to him and wrapping his arms around Ash's legs. "Happy birthday!"
Ash freezes, breath stopping dead in his lungs.
"Oh, Ash is awake?" Jessica's voice carries out into the living room. She appears in Ash's vision, walking from the kitchen. "Come on, Ash, we have breakfast and presents."
But Ash can't move.
"Ash?" Michael asks after a second, releasing Ash and stepping away from him. Normally when Michael hugs him, Ash scoops him up, or crouches down to hug him back.
But he can't—can't fucking move. He can't.
"What's wrong?" Jessica asks, glancing from Michael up to Ash. "Are you okay? Are you sick after all, or—"
Ash bolts. He doesn't know where he's running to, but he knows what he's running from. He makes it to the front door but fumbles with the lock, and then suddenly there are hands on him—hands that are stronger and larger than his own, hands that are pulling him back, holding him down and—
"I'm sorry!" Ash shouts, cowering, trying to pull away and shield his face. "I'm so sorry. I'll be good, p-please just—"
"Ash." Max's voice is as stern as Ash has ever heard it. "You're scaring Michael."
Ash manages to glance over to where Michael is hiding behind Jessica, a few yards away, peeking out from behind her legs to look at Ash.
He does look frightened. But that's Max and Jess's fault for bringing another kid into this, isn't it? If they wanted Ash to be the only one to suffer, they should have waited to hurt him until Michael wasn't home, or at least not in the same fucking room.
Still ...
"I'm sorry," Ash mumbles. He tries not to flinch away anymore. Tries not to do anything that would scare Michael too much more. "Can we go upstairs?" He looks up at Max, pleading. Gives it his best childish begging expression. "Just you and me?" He has to get Max away from Michael.
Max sighs, scratching at his neck. "Yes, but Ash—what do you think is going to happen once we're up there?"
Ash glances at Michael, then back to Max. "I don't mind," he explains. "Just take me where we can be alone." Jess can join later if she wants, but Ash's first priority has to be to get any men away from the other kid.
Max exchanges a look with Jess, and Ash holds his breath. After a bit, Max nods, gesturing for Ash to head up the stairs. He follows behind Ash, of course, so that Ash can't change his mind and bolt again.
When they make it to the bedroom, Max blinks.
"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" he asks, looking at the blanket still nested where Ash was sleeping.
"I'm sorry," Ash blurts. "I—the bed was—" he stammers. He tries to collect himself and start again: "Kept thinking I was tied to it," he mumbles. "But I mean—if you want to do that, that's fine too."
Max grimaces.
"Sorry," Ash says again. "I didn't mean to get the blanket dirty."
"I'm not mad, Ash."
Ash fidgets. He goes to sit down on the bed, but Max doesn't join him, so he rests one ankle on his knee, moving as gracefully as he can manage despite his panic. "How did you find out about my birthday?" he asks.
"Eiji told us," Max admits. "I don't think he knew it was supposed to be a secret. We didn't either. Eiji said he hadn't been able to get ahold of you recently, and asked us to tell you happy birthday for him."
Ash averts his eyes. "It's not a secret," he says, then mentally scolds himself for the lack of seduction in his voice. He tries again. "I'm just barely nineteen now, you know ..."
"I know," Max says. He's keeping his distance from Ash, and Ash can't figure out what he's playing at.
Ash rests his hands on his leg, wrists together, then brings them up his thigh and near his crotch, trying to draw Max's eye. He just wants to get this over with.
"Ash." Max's voice is soft, but Ash winces at the sound anyway.
"What're you thinking of?" Ash purrs.
"Not what you're thinking," Max says, sighing. "You really scared Michael, you know that? He trusts you."
He shouldn't. "You should have gotten him out of the house first," Ash counters, but he averts his eyes.
"Before what, Ash? What exactly do you think is about to happen? Actually—no. Don't answer that. Let me just tell you that you're wrong. What you think this is about—it's not."
Ash feels like shit.
He tries to remind himself of how he was thinking a few days ago. Max and Jessica aren't like Dino. It would make sense that they wouldn't celebrate Ash's birthday the same way. No extravagant parties with Ash as the centerpiece. But they still have to want—what everyone wants, right?
"I don't understand what you're getting at," Ash says carefully.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Max responds, voice even and measured.
It always hurts, Ash wants to explain. Instead, "So you're not into sadism? That's fine. I can do anything. Whatever you're into."
"I'm not into kids, Ash!" Max snaps.
"... I'm not a kid anymore though, am I?" Ash says with a sad smile. "I'm nineteen now. That's the point. You won't get in trouble or anything—even if I did somehow try to—I mean, I'm legal now. There's nothing I could do."
"Rape is still illegal?" Max says, like he's absolutely in shock at Ash's words. "And you're over eighteen, sure, but I'm thirty-four, Ash. You're a kid to me, and I'm not going to—fucking hell. Jess and I don't want this from you. We don't want anything from you. We just wanted to give you a half decent birthday, or at least try to."
"... But I scared Michael," Ash finishes. He fucked it up.
Max sighs. "Yeah. You did."
Ash looks down into his lap, dropping both feet down to the floor. "What are you going to do about it?" he mumbles.
"I'm not going to hurt you for it, if that's what you're suggesting," Max says, rolling his eyes. "I just want you to understand that your actions impact other people. It hurts Jessica and me when you act this way, and it scares Michael. I know that's not what you want, but that's what you're doing."
Ash hesitates. "It's hard to imagine myself having a half decent birthday," he admits. "And even this one. I already fucked it up."
"It's not too late," Max says. "And even if it were, you have a lot of birthdays ahead of you, right? You're only nineteen."
Only nineteen. Like Ash isn't already too old for everything he's ever been good for.
"Yeah," Ash whispers. He doesn't feel like fighting anymore. "I guess."
"Will you come downstairs with me?" Max asks. "We really do have breakfast and presents ready."
"I owe Michael an apology," Ash says, looking up at Max suddenly.
"Then apologize," Max says, smiling. "It's as simple as that."
"How? People always seem to—when I apologize it—" Ash cuts off, frustrated, and shakes his head.
Max nods slowly. "Just thank him for wishing you happy birthday, and then explain that you were a little confused earlier, and that you're sorry if you scared him."
"How do you do that?" Ash asks.
"Do what?" Max is still standing toward the exit of the room, but not blocking it—Ash just realized that he isn't blocking the exit.
"You just ... always know what to say," Ash whispers. "How to fix things."
"Nah," Max says, waving him off. "I don't always know. And what I do know just comes with having thirty-four years of experience. You'll get there, kid."
I hope so, Ash almost says, but stops before the words leave his mouth. He ... he hopes to keep living? That's new.
He doesn't say it out loud, instead just following Max down to the small birthday breakfast they prepared for Ash, and apologizing to Michael. But he can't stop thinking about the fact that—
He kind of does hope to keep living. He wants to spend his next birthday with Eiji—he knows that much. And he can't think of ever really having looked forward to his next birthday before.
So Ash smiles, carefully opening the presents that the family got him without damaging the wrapping paper. He even promises to eat a slice of cake later in the day. And, for the first time in as long as he can remember, Ash Lynx looks forward to the future.