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The words are out of Ash's mouth before he really realizes what he's saying.
He doesn't know why, or what's come over him. Everything's been piling up lately, and he knew the pot was going to boil over eventually. He was just hoping that it would happen in a way that didn't have external consequences.
Jessica's already mentioned from the second she met Ash how his incorrigible mouth gets him into trouble. He knows there's a limit there, a boundary, and he knows he'll be punished for crossing it again.
So maybe Ash really does bring everything on himself. Maybe he really does ask for it.
"It's really none of your business, now is it, old man?"
Once he's said the words, he can barely remember the question Max asked. Something about where Ash was spending time—nothing he even had any reason to hide. But the defensiveness comes up from within Ash and lashes out, biting like a snake at anyone who cares enough to ask.
Ash feels the blood drain from his face.
He tries to stammer out an apology immediately, before any strike or hit can land, but his tongue is as frozen as the rest of him. He thinks he'd be shaking with fear if he could manage to move enough to even breathe. Instead, he's just stuck, like the rigor mortis has set in before even death has.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry— he thinks, but can't take enough of a breath to speak. Please, no, I didn't mean it ...
Max laughs, and Ash's mind is racing. He can't figure out what Max has planned. He's been living with the man for over a month now, but he still doesn't know what to expect, what various cues mean. Is this a hysterical laughter, like before clients would beat him within an inch of his life? Or is it a calmer laughter, where the blows are calculated but cruel? Will Ash be expected to act out his own punishment, or will it be the type where he can just take it?
"Damn, fine, don't tell me then," Max says. His hand comes up into the air, and it's not a closed fist—his palm is open, almost a waving gesture, but Ash knows anything can change at any moment. Anything can be a false sense of security, a way to give hope so they can crush it.
He flinches back violently, finally breaking the immobilization spell on himself, and falls to the ground. He lands hard on his ass, arms above him to defend from a blow instead of below to catch his fall.
"I'm sorry!" Ash finally blurts, grinding his teeth together and bracing his jaw. He might chip a tooth this way, but he's less likely to break his jaw. His arms can block the worst of it to his face, since he can disguise injuries and bruises to the rest of his body easier. He needs his face in decent condition to make money, but he's found that the rest of him can be in just about any state. By the time he takes his clothes off, they're not going to back out.
Someone's speaking, a man, but the words come through warbled to Ash's ears. He can't make sense of it, but it doesn't seem angry yet.
And the blow doesn't come.
He keeps his arms up and pulls his knees in to protect his core, not sure when the other shoe will drop. Meanwhile, he attempts to regulate his breathing enough to understand the voice above him.
"—Ash, hey, come on, I'm sorry. I don't know what I did. I'm sorry."
Someone else is apologizing? To Ash?
He risks a glance out from between his arms, keeping his expression guarded to not reveal too much. There's a man standing over him, but he doesn't seem to have a weapon. That doesn't mean much, of course—Ash knows well the damage men can do with their bodies alone.
Still, the voice doesn't sound angry or irrational, so maybe Ash can still talk his way out of this.
"I'm sorry," Ash tries again, blinking the figure above him into clarity. "I—I didn't mean to talk back or—I was just—"
Shit, now he's making excuses. He's making it worse for himself, isn't he? How does he backpedal from that one? Any wrong word, any slight movement could lead to a heightened consequence. If this one's into bondage, he might decide to restrain Ash before taking out his anger, which would prevent Ash's ability to choose where the marks land. He needs to avoid that, to keep just enough control of the situation that he won't be in more trouble later for ruining his chances with other clients.
"I'm sorry," Ash says, falling back on the only thing that's never wrong to say. It comes out as a sob.
"Talking back?" the man asks, sounding genuinely confused. "Ash, what are you talking about? You don't owe me an explanation. Michael has a worse mouth than that half the time." The tone is not only confused, but placating. Calming, almost. "Ash, it's okay." And he's calling him Ash, not slut or whore or toy or—
A few more blinks, clearing away the tears, and the figure comes into view. "Max?" Ash croaks. "You're not angry?"
"I have no reason to be, do I?" Max asks. He seems to realize that he's standing over Ash, and moves to sit on the floor next to him instead. He keeps his upper body hunched over, closer to Ash's height. "And ... Ash, even if I were angry, I wouldn't take it out on you. Not like you're expecting. That doesn't help either of us."
"It helps you," Ash says quickly. "You'll feel better. They always do."
"I wouldn't," Max insists.
"Everyone always does."
"No one's ever been me, or Eiji, or Jessica before recently, right? No one's ever cared. You weren't with the right people. The right people—even if they're angry—will work with you to come to a resolution without hurting you."
Ash shakes his head. That doesn't sound right. It's never been that way.
"What does Eiji do when he's angry with you?"
Ash looks down at his feet, sock-covered toes curling into the beige shag carpet of Max's house. Eiji ... Ash remembers Eiji. Ash could never forget Eiji, even like this. Even now. "He usually scolds me," Ash says, almost almost a hint of laughter in his voice.
"Does it hurt when he scolds you?"
"N-no!" Ash says with a gasp. "He's never. He just ... When he's right, and he knows he's right, he won't let me pretend I'm right instead. He doesn't let me get away with shit or sweet talk my way out like I'm used to, but he doesn't hurt me either. He just shows me how I was wrong."
Max nods, and there's a soft smile on his face. It's not the smile Ash is used to seeing on adult men. "That's good. That's how it should be."
"But Eiji's like—a kid," Ash explains.
"Eiji's older than you."
"Not by much. And not in experience. And Eiji doesn't—doesn't have more power than me. Like the gang would never hurt me either, you know? Because I'm the one in control there."
"Would you intentionally hurt Eiji?"
Ash's head snaps up so quickly his vision blurs. "No!"
"Even though you have more power than him?"
"I—I don't, really. We're more—it's different."
"It's supposed to be different. It's not supposed to be unbalanced. And even when it is, people aren't supposed to use that lack of balance to hurt those below them."
"But they do," Ash insists. He settles his chin back onto his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs. "They do."
"Some do," Max agrees. He sighs, settling in on the floor a little more. "And I'm sorry that you've experienced that. But, if people like Eiji and I have our way, you never will again."
Ash picks at the nails of his left hand with his right, as though he's not practically in the fetal position right now. "So you're not going to punish me for talking back?"
"You were a little snarky, but hey, you're a teenager. Worst I'll do is send you to your room for an hour and call you back out for dinner."
Your room. Something in Ash glows, and he doesn't think Max even knows the impact those words have on him.
He has a place here.
A place where he won't be hurt. And imagine a punishment so creative that, rather than being hurt, Ash is sent to a place where he's safe. Incredible.
He swallows down the saliva pooling in his throat. "I was visiting the guys," he mumbles. "Alex and the others. It's not that I didn't want you to know. I just ... got scared, I think."
"What you say won't be used against you here, Ash."
"Everything else always has been."
Max's voice is soft. Unassuming, but somehow still understanding. "I know." He shuffles just marginally closer to Ash, and Ash lets him. Doesn't flinch away, and maybe—just maybe even leans toward him a bit.
"I'm sorry," Ash whispers again. "I really am."
"You don't need to be. You didn't do anything wrong. And when you make a mistake these days, the consequences aren't what they used to be. There's greater allowance for small mistakes, and fewer punishments for them as well." He leans just the slightest bit closer, affectionately brushing his shoulder against Ash's. It doesn't feel possessive or lustful, and it's gone before Ash really registers that it happened. It wasn't a threat. "You're still getting used to it."
"That's one way to put it," Ash agrees. "I don't know if I ever will. Get used to it, I mean."
"Then we'll all just be glad to keep surprising you every time."
Even that rebuttal, even that rejection didn't lead to punishment. Even that could be forgiven. Even Ash.
Even Ash.
"Thank you," Ash mumbles. "I know I'm not easy to deal with."
"No one's easy to deal with all the time, kid, but you're real easy to care about. And that's all it takes."