hey hey friends! so i’m working on a long-ass hockey au for ao3 which is taking up pretty much all of my time. i thought i’d share a teeny snippet with you that might??? be in the final cut but who knows really
anyway, have some dumb boys being fond
He pulls back from where his nose is buried into Luke’s hair to place a soft kiss along his jaw. It’s getting long now, curling up at the nape of his neck and along the sides. He doesn’t mind, though. It makes him messier, less perfect in some ways. He likes it best when he doesn’t style his hair because that means Ashton can run his fingers through it as much as he wants, and without the haze of product, he gets to smell Luke, just the way he is, no frills or tricks.
“You always smell like a bakery,” he says.
He laughs. “Do I?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. I expected you to smell like Axe or Irish Spring or something.”
Luke wrinkles his nose. “You think I’d wear Axe?”
“Half the team does.”
“Yeah, and it’s gross.”
“It’s manly,” Ashton says and flexes his bicep before kissing it.
Luke laughs and shoves at his shoulder, making him flop onto his back. They’re still close, Ashton’s other arm trapped under Luke’s back and their legs tangled together. He tries to shift closer into his side without being obvious but Luke catches him and smiles.
“My mom bakes bread twice a week,” he says quietly. “That’s why I smell.”
“You don’t smell.”
“You said it’s weird,” he says a little petulantly.
Ashton snuggles closer, presses his nose back into the soft almost-curls behind his ear and inhales deeply. “It’s a good weird. A nice weird. A home-y weird.”
“Yeah. Like you remind me of home.” He takes an uncertain breath, presses his face harder into his neck. “You are home.”