Asher Greengrass, Sweet Promiscuous Prince (sacredeight) wrote in cultureic, @ 2015-12-28 11:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | asher greengrass, jacob sloper |
WHO: Jacob Sloper & Asher Greengrass
WHAT: Coyote Ugly
WHEN: 7am Monday Morning, 28 December
WHERE: Jacob's flat
WARNINGS: PG-13 for language and sexual situations
Pain. That was definitely pain, nice and splitting as it shot through his skull, and oh-- That was his gut rolling and rebelling as he tried to shift up onto his elbows, bile rising up in his throat. That was definitely horrible. His mouth felt like cotton and he didn't even want to try opening his eyes. How much had he had to drink last night? He flopped back down onto his stomach and took a few moments, trying to retrace his steps from the night before. But everything disappeared into a worrying haze around nine. Finally daring to crack one eye open, he grunted as the harsh light from the streets outside broke through his dulled senses, then shakily he rolled onto his side. Trying to figure out where he'd put his phone and then freezing when he saw the body laid out beside him. "Oh fuck me sideways…" "Wha-rrrrumph." It was half of a word, quickly enveloped by another snore as Asher lay half-asleep next to someone. Half a moment later his eyes flickered, opening slowly, sleepily… Only to find Jacob staring back at him, looking like a deer in headlines. It came rushing back to him then, the late-night hext while Asher was just sitting alone in his room, drinking and miserable for reasons he couldn't seem to put into words that might have had something to do with Perpetua not hexting him back. Then Jacob had hexted and Asher thought it was a joke at first, but clearly it wasn't, because here he was. "Morning," he murmured. Jacob blinked, bleary-eyed, once and then twice. But each time he opened his eyes, Asher was still there, he hadn't gone mad or been hexed. "Oh, fuck me sideways," he repeated, turning away from Asher and moving to sit up, even as his stomach screamed in protest against the sudden motion. "Did we--" He stopped himself, that was a stupid question. It was coming back to him now. "Greengrass, please, for the love of god, do not tell anyone about this." From behind Jacob there was a silence, then the sound of sheets moving as Asher pulled himself up to more of a sitting position. "Why not?" Jacob scoffed, as if he couldn't believe that Asher would actually ask that. Leaning forward, he cradled his head in his hands, elbows against his knees, "Uhm… because we work together? Because I was blackout drunk? Because I'm old enough to be your fucking father. Pick one." Asher watched Jacob for a moment, then looked away, pulling his knees up to his chest. A number of things were running through his head, but the only thing that really mattered was the tone of Jacob's voice, the words he was saying. "I mean -- fine, I won't, but-". He paused, mouth tugging into a frown. "You can probably call me Asher now, you know." Jacob let out a quiet noise that sounded something like disgust, then shook his head, "I'll stick with Greengrass. Easier to pretend that this never happened if we just go back to--" He stopped himself, not even sure what 'normal' was anymore. Scanning the floor, trying to figure out just where his boxers had ended up, he sighed. "I shouldn't have hexted you." Then, after a moment, "I'm sorry." And there it was, once again. The regret. Asher felt a sinking feeling in his chest and he ripped the sheet off him, rolling out of the bed and grabbing his underwear. "I don't want your sorries," he snapped, pulling one leg on and then the other. "You know, fuck you, Jacob." Rolling his eyes, Jacob didn't say anything, letting Greengrass have his anger. He probably deserved it. Reaching for the nightstand, he picked up his phone and checked the time. Fuck, about an hour before he had to be in at work. Before they both had to be in at work. In the same office. Burying his head in his hands again, he stayed silent, figuring he'd at least do Asher the favour of not making the whole thing any more awkward. This was the last thing he needed. Though ultimately inevitable. Boxers now on, Asher paused, looking over at the silent Jacob, unwilling to even say anything. "You think you're so bloody high and mighty, you do, but you're just an arsehole who doesn't care about anyone else, you know that?" Yanking on his trousers, he started to look around for his wand. "Jesus fucking Christ," Jacob muttered under his breath, not sure how exactly he wound up at a point in his life where he was getting a lecture from Asher goddamned Greengrass. "I said I'm sorry, alright. Let's not make this a whole fucking thing." Groaning, he started going through what he needed to do once Asher was gone. Aspirin. Shower. Coffee. "Besides, since when do you care who you shag?" That wasn't it. That wasn't it at all -- it wasn't about feelings. Asher was perfectly capable (beyond, even) of having casual sex. It was— "Forget about it." Finally finding his wand just under the bed, he snatched it up, grabbed his coat, and stalked to the door. "Piss off!" He shouted, storming out and slamming the door behind him. |