Work Text:
"Do you want to go to a show with me?"
The question startles Ashton from their focus on the strings of their bass. Sitting on the other end of his couch is Fearne Calloway, her furry legs tucked up into the cushions. Ashton leans their bass from their side, resting it upright on the carpet, held in one hand. The crystalline body catches the light from the living room window, sending glittery sparkles across the otherwise dull carpet.
"A show?" Ashton asks, "Like, a concert, or is there some weird thing coming up?"
Weird being subjective. Ashton likes weird. He especially likes Fearne's flavor of weird; she's taken them on multiple expeditions to taxidermy exhibits and traveling conventions of antiques and supposed cursed goods.
"A concert." Fearne says, smiling in that way that makes her dimples more prominent. "I heard those Tealeaves are going to be doing some sort of summer concert."
"You like Tealeaves?" Ashton says, "They don't really seem like your type of music."
"I mean, I don't hate them. I just don't really know them." She admits. "But Nana asked if I wanted tickets. And I like taking you places."
That's a nice feeling, Ashton thinks. Being wanted around.
"I wouldn't mind going. What's the venue?" Now Ashton pulls his bass from the floor once again, hands needing something to do. They attempt once more to re-tune it just so they don't have to look at the way Fearne is batting her eyelashes.
"Well," Fearne hums, dragging out the word. She twirls a bit of her hair between her fingers, over her carefully manicured nails. "It's at that pool downtown. Well, the hotel. But the pool at the hotel. The one they do the parties at. Um. The one Bertrand took us to."
"I can't go too deep into the water there," Ashton laughs, "But fuck it, yeah, that sounds fun. When?"
"Next weekend," Fearne says, "Nana already has the tickets. I don't know how she got them…"
Ashton thinks he has an idea. Fearne can be very convincing when she wants something, even to her Nana. Maybe especially to her Nana. Faewild stuff still boggles their mind a little. Does Nana Morri have internet in the Faewild?
"Anyone else going?" Ashton says.
"No, I only got the two tickets." Fearne says. "Just us!"
Strange that she wouldn't offer Orym or Dorian, first.
Or maybe not so strange. They both have a lot on their plates. Ashton, meanwhile, has a pretty open schedule doing odd jobs and a few classes at the university. More often than not, he's running errands for Milo now that Bertrand is out on vacation or whatever. Having such a flexible schedule has made him a prime target for Fearne's need for company these days.
Resulting in Fearne often inviting herself over, and if Ashton isn't home, someone usually lets her in — though more than once he's come home to see her with her lockpicking kit on his table, curled up on his bed for no reason other than she was lonely.
Ashton appreciates it, really. Even with multiple roommates, he gets it. They get a bit lonely, too, but being the one to broach that topic has never been a thing they like to do, so Fearne acting on impulse is a blessing.
Part of their dynamic. Like Ashton had told her when they'd barely known each other and had been pocketing each other's things: they want to not have to ask for things.
"Just us." Ashton says, bringing his focus back to the topic at hand. He tries not to think about how that phrasing makes their head feel light. They fiddle with the strings on their bass once more, internally scolding themself for possibly over–tightening it.
"Yulisen night," she says, "I'll meet you here…?"
"Yeah," Ashton says. "We'll meet here."
———
When Fearne shows up the day of the event, she's clearly dressed for the late summer heat. Ashton has to wonder for a moment just how unreasonably warm she must get with all her fur — but they shake the thought from their head because thinking about Fearne's legs is embarrassing enough. Today, though, she's definitely taken a note from Imogen's book in terms of fashion, wearing one of her button-up shirts tied up into a crop-top. Her hair is pulled up and away from her face and ears, and there's an asymmetrical skirt tied around her waist.
Ashton, looking at her, feels a bit less extravagant — shorts, swim trunks (very rarely used, for obvious reasons, being made of stone as they are), a tank top that's half-mesh on the sides. Because it's summer. Where Fearne doesn't bother with shoes (or rather, can't wear them), Ashton has some rather comfortable sandals — a far cry from their usual boots. They hope they don't look too strange beside her.
They decide to walk together for no reason other than that they have some time before it starts and the weather is nice. Fearne talks about her recent classes — apparently one of her professors is now dating one of the Tealeaves.
"The one who does the basis of magic classes," Fearne explains, "You know when I was complaining about having to remember all the sigils and runes?"
Ashton nods.
"Seems like a weird choice for a popstar to get with." They say. "But I don't know their personal life."
"It was weird at first," Fearne admits, "But then it just kind of made sense. And Professor Widogast is a bit more relaxed these days."
"So the bonus to your teacher getting fucked on a regular basis is like, what, less homework?" Ashton says, and laughs when Fearne snorts and nudges them. It's only slightly uncomfortable; by now Ashton's friends know the right amount of pressure to use with them to avoid causing him pain.
And he's made sure to be extra careful for today. Totally prepared. Even if they weren't, Fearne knows better than anyone — minus Letters, maybe — the telltale signs of Ashton's pain scale. They nudge Fearne in return, trying to fight off a grin.
It's going to be a fun night.
———
The venue is packed, as expected. Though most people are trying to aim for the front end of the large, curved pool, Ashton and Fearne are more than happy to stay near the far side. The setup is interesting to say the least: the main pool is almost perfectly shaped like a crescent, with the main stage for performances in the center of the arc. Beyond the main pool there are two shallower ones made more for the smaller folks or kids, and then to the edges of the vicinity there are hot tubs. Or, rather, hot pools, by the size of them. They're made to accommodate even the larger races of Exandria, with shallower ends to make sure everyone is included.
Ashton is content to sit on the edge of the crescent pool while Fearne sits in the water, her furred legs turned dark. She's leaning her back against the wall of the pool, turning her head to look up at Ashton while he situates himself.
"They're about to start," Fearne says, having to raise her voice over the last notes of the opening band.
"You here for the music or just to … be here?" Ashton laughs.
"Hmm," Fearne hums but doesn't answer. Her gaze drifts from Ashton to the Katari man approaching the two of them. Ashton doesn't hear him coming and jumps slightly when the catlike man sets a case of alcohol next to them.
"Thanks!" Fearne says, and the man only nods before hurrying off to his next delivery. In moments Ashton recalls the fact that Fearne had mentioned getting drinks at the bar. Apparently they're allowed near the pool. Or in it. He doesn't care.
"They might be a little fruity for your taste," Fearne warns, "But I've had them before."
"Hey, a drink is a drink." Ashton says, opening one of the bottles for themself, and then doing the same for Fearne. With the darkened sky and the glittering lights across the stage and the surrounding venue, there's definitely… a certain air about the situation. But Ashton doesn't think on it.
Instead, they take a long drink and watch Fearne do the same. Whatever it is she's ordered for them, it's incredibly sweet and tropical — definitely a Fearne thing. Which he likes, come to think of it. Things like this that remind him of her. There's an inkling in the back of their head that the next time they go looking for drinks to stock the fridge at home, they might just wind up picking this up.
Fearne spends some time watching the performance once it starts — there's a lot of loud noise and bright colors, as to be expected from the Tealeaves. Ashton really only knows a few of their songs and so far none of them have come up, so they're more than happy to just watch Fearne's enjoyment of the show than the show itself.
Which gets him thinking about why he likes watching her instead of the show. And they try not to linger on those thoughts for too long.
Eventually, Fearne turns away from the stage to lean her arms against the cool tile where Ashton is sitting. They have one leg pulled up and one dangling into the water, swinging idly.
"Hey," Fearne says, and motions with her head to the warmer pools near the back.
"You … want to go into the hot tubs?" Ashton asks. "Aren't you already…?"
"I can handle heat," Fearne says, pulling herself from the water. Ashton does his very best not to stare at the way the water drips down her form, or the way her fur is clinging to her body. He picks up his bag in one swift movement, using that as an excuse to look away for a moment.
"If you say so," they laugh. Fearne's trail of hoofprints and puddles gets exactly one comment before Fearne breaks into giggles and pushes them along quicker toward the hotter water. Ashton drops his things on a nearby chair and goes for the deeper end of the pool, now, knowing this one at least has seating so they won't sink right to the bottom.
(They can swim. They just prefer not to have to fight the water against their stony form.)
Fearne joins them and settles in beside them, stretching her arms up over her head before leaning back, resting her head against the raised lip of the pool.
They're pretty far from anyone else at this point. Most everyone is in the actual pool, avoiding the heated pools since it is the middle of summer. Ashton, however, feels their joints and muscles turning looser, less strained in the heated water. And Fearne, with her hair pulled up messily, her face flushed, looks as though she's thriving in the heat.
Something they have in common — Ashton's always been pretty vocal about heat and hot water helping their joints. Fearne being proficient in fire magic has been rather helpful over the time they've known each other. More than once, she's helped soothe the pain in their neck and shoulders with hands warmed by some cantrip or spell.
"Thanks for bringing me," Ashton says, their throat raw from needing to shout earlier. "This has been really great."
"You were my first pick," Fearne says, needing to pull herself a little closer to not strain her voice. "I thought you'd like getting a chance to soak."
They were?
"I was?" He says. When Fearne nods, Ashton rubs the back of their neck with one hand, looking up toward the sky. There are too many bright, flashing lights to make out any stars.
"Yeah," Fearne says, and when Ashton looks at her face again, he could swear she was blushing. But it's also pretty hard to tell, given the lighting. On stage, there's another flash of rainbow lights, coloring Fearne in gemstone hues.
"Just because of that?" Ashton says, half hoping that's not the case. That there were other motives. Only half hoping, though, because, well…
Fearne is Fearne. She's chaotic, and weird, slightly off-putting. She collects dead things and has curtains made of (supposedly) animal skins, and at the same time she coaxes plants into living as their most vibrant and abundant possible selves. She has a gods-damned monkey as a pet. Son. With one of de Rolo's fancy toy guns that has been used on Ashton exactly once before Fearne put her hoof down and scolded little Mister. She's fun and confident and stunningly beautiful to a point where Ashton wonders why she's still single when she has every man, woman, and otherwise identified person wrapped around her finger. Themself included.
Ashton is … nobody, really. He's the face that shows up for a few weeks at a time at a job before fucking off to do something completely different, never sticking around long enough to mean much to anyone.
Except Bell's Hells.
But that's not enough, right? To be something more than just a member of a volunteer group that's currently scattered across Wildemount, Tal'Dorei, and Marquet, because family and jobs and responsibility. Hells, even Bertrand went off on some vacation a month ago so they haven't even been in much contact. Ashton's just been fumbling with playing for the Krooks at cheap bars.
"Well," Fearne starts, and Ashton feels their pulse quicken when she leans in closer to their ear. "I really just wanted to spend time with you."
Ashton's throat tightens. They're glad they're in the water, because otherwise their palms would be sweating. Probably.
They turn slightly, and find themself nearly nose-to-nose with Fearne. She's reaching for them and fuck, shit, he's dreaming, he has to be.
"Hey," Ashton says, voice low. They didn't even know they could get their voice that steady at that volume.
"Hey, yourself." Fearne says, her hand resting on the back of their neck. Her nails drag gentle rasping scratches there. Usually such a light touch would make Ashton flinch, but in the heat of the water and the summer weather, it feels… almost normal. Almost. There's still an ache, an itch, that won't go away. But it's easier.
He's not sure if he wants to make eye contact.
But he does know one thing he desperately wants.
Fearne's free hand rests now on their shoulder.
Take the chance, dumbfuck, Ashton thinks to themself. Do it.
There's a gentle, playful smile on Fearne's face. Nobody is looking their way. They're nearly secluded perfectly, actually, the moment feels right. The Tealeaves are on some song that's energetic, poppy, the lyrics just a blur to Ashton as he puts his hands on either side of Fearne's face. The lights filtering through the steam coming from the water and from their hands makes everything look dreamlike.
She pulls in closer.
Do it.
I want to not have to ask, Ashton thinks. He wonders if that's what Fearne is thinking, too.
Fearne doesn't seem surprised in the slightest when Ashton kisses her. If anything, she seems like she's been impatient for it, tightening her arms over their shoulders. She's warm, warmer than he'd expected. Her lips are soft, especially compared to their own.
They pull away almost too quickly for their own liking, one hand now on Fearne's waist, the other still cupping her cheek. It feels — it feels …
Fearne's smile looks like a combination of self-satisfied and smitten, and Ashton isn't sure how they feel about that. Their stomach is doing all kinds of acrobatics that he's not sure it's supposed to be able to do. Nuzzling against his palm, Fearne's eyes close as she sighs, her lips turning upward into the sweetest smile he's seen on her.
How is he supposed to resist that?
Thumb brushing her cheek in a way that feels far, far too sentimental, Ashton catches Fearne's attention and pulls her in again, this time kissing her with less urgency. It's less of a surprise the second go around, and they feel the anxiety slowly drain from their head as Fearne kisses just as sweetly. They feel her lips part, then the softest exhalation against their lips, the gentle press of her tongue.
For a second, he panics internally. They could be seen, and that would ruin this moment. Ashton doesn't care about the rules — but he does care about wanting to keep the moment perfect (maybe selfishly — he wants to be able to think about this again and again, because who knows if it'll happen again) so he draws back once more with one final, soft peck.
"Ash," Fearne breathes, settling in beside him so her legs are over their lap in the water. "Are your roommates going to be home tonight?"
Why does she—
Oh.
Fuck.
Shit.
Ashton feels their embarrassment rise in their cheeks, and they haven't been more grateful for being made of stone in so long. It hides the blush that would have otherwise darkened their face considerably.
"Not sure," he says, keeping his voice as steady as possible. "Your place?"
Is he really asking this? Is she?
"Totally empty," she says, "Just farther away."
Her claw-like nails trail up his chest, and that's it, Ashton is pretty sure he's dreaming. This has to be a dream, right?
Something big happens on stage. The crowd screams for something. But Ashton doesn't look away from Fearne's expectant face, her pretty pink lips curved into the most mischievous smile, cheeks flushed from the heat, and, well, maybe from that kiss.
"Wanna ditch the show early? Get a taxi?" Ashton asks, and the way Fearne grins at him lets them know he made the exact choice she wanted.