Asher's thoughts after a "visit" with Saint-14.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Asher comes down from it shaking.
His breathing is too loud and ragged in his ears. Asher doesn’t speak as Saint pries his hands off of Saint’s shoulders, doesn’t make a peep as Saint presses a kiss to Asher’s wrist. Asher looks down into Saint’s glowing optics and sees an understanding that strips him down and he can’t take it.
Asher is methodical in moving away and tidying up after the two of them. Saint doesn’t get in his way, being more help by simply being quiet as Asher gathers himself back into one piece.
The cot beneath them is not meant for two people, more accustom to a lone scientist than it is a legend. Saint presses his back against the wall to make just enough room for Asher to lay beside him. Neither of them speak as Asher settles in against the solidity that is Saint-14, neither of them speaking as he firmly closes his eyes and crosses his arms.
A hand settles on his hip.
Asher breaths slow, in and out, as Saint rearranges Asher just enough to pillow his arm underneath Asher’s head. The man has the gall to hum some rhythmless tune as he presses another kiss to the back of Asher’s neck.
Laying there, the weight of Saint’s hand keeping him firmly in reality, Asher lets his back relax and his clasped arms rest. Laying there, the warmth of Saint-14 all around him, Asher thinks that he could leave. Saint’s hand doesn’t grip him, doesn’t hold him place. The arm underneath his cheek is relaxed. There is nothing to trap him, nothing to ask him to stay.
Asher’s throat is tight as he wonders what it would be like to admit he wants Saint to ask.
"the next AO3 thing i post will be my Season of The Hunt fanfic-" PSYCH it's minific for a pairing that doesn't exist on AO3 and you've never seen mentioned anywhere but in your own incoherent twitter ramblings!
i've been suffering over these two [and osiris] for HALF A YEAR
alternative title of "i could tell you where the fuck this ship came from but you don't have the time"