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Critical Role Summer Wildflowers Exchange 2023
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Published:
2023-07-31
Words:
949
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
13
Kudos:
64
Bookmarks:
6
Hits:
325

transitive properties

Summary:

He has a respect for Chetney as a co-worker, because under the bullshit the old gnome has kept himself alive for a stupidly long time in ways that can’t be just luck, and he is generally a pretty good person to have on your side in a fight. He’s come to like having Chetney around. He accepted Chetney’s offer for a massage because it was a really bad pain day and it didn’t seem likely to make things worse.

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“You’re carrying a lot of tension up here,” Chetney says, nimble fingers gingerly testing the space between Ashton’s shoulder blades.

Ashton can’t help but scoff. “How can you even tell?”

“Tension’s tension,” Chetney insists, unhelpfully, prodding further. “Even stone carries stress in it.”

“Well, what, am I supposed to put it in a box?” Ashton groans, not lifting their head up from their arms. He’s lying prone, Chetney a dense, warm weight on his back. At first Chetney had knelt by his side, but Ashton had urged him up.

“You shouldn’t have it.” Chetney punctuates this with a firm sort of stroke down Ashton’s spine. “You need to get somebody to work this out more often.”

“Thought that was why you were up there.”

“Sure is.” There’s a popping noise of Chetney cracking his knuckles. “But you can’t rely on old Chetney all the time. I haven’t been licensed to practice massageology since that big hullabaloo in oh-seven.”

Ashton, at this point, doesn’t bother to ask whether that would be 807, 707, or frankly -207, and they’re glad Chetney doesn’t leave room for them to. He brings his hands back up Ashton’s shoulders, and begins kneading him with firm, steady fingers.

Ashton doesn’t really ever get to zero pain, period, but there is a state where good hurt and bad hurt balance out in a way that might approximate. It takes some time for him to relax into the motion of Chetney’s hands, but when he does it’s a total sort of feeling, a place where very little could entice him to get up. Chetney talks on and off, mumbling enough that Ashton doesn’t feel like giving any response.

“Nice tone here…and here…” Chetney moves on to his arm, lifting it gently as he works. “It’s one thing to watch you go at it with that hammer, but you really are more than built for it, arentcha.” A shiver travels up and down Ashton’s spine that doesn’t quite have to do with the massage.

It’s been long enough since Ashton traveled with a sizeable group that he’d started to forget the problems that had led to his main rule of relationships these last few years, namely, don’t shit where you eat. Don’t get into feelings with people who you need to get by on a day-to-day basis. The Nobodies had never been good at this, Ashton among them in those days, and even with the group’s tight collection of bonds forged out of years and habit, they had hit more than one near breaking point over relationship drama. Any group less closely tied together probably wouldn’t have lasted it out. And since he’s lost that one, he’s had to have a rule.

It was an easy rule to keep when those people Ashton needed were Milo (not interested in feelings), Anni (not interested in Ashton), Letters (whose feelings on romance have only gotten more puzzling with time), and Hexum (who knew when to mix her business and pleasure and when to not).

It’s not so easy when there are people like…well, there have been moments with just about everyone in the present party. Orym’s muscles, Laudna’s fingers, Fearne…a lot of Fearne. A lot of temptation. He spends a week where his strongest memory of Fearne was her lips on his head, and by the end of it he’s broken that rule in every way besides telling her about his feelings. When they do meet again, before he has the chance to say anything Fearne is telling him about she’d slept with Chetney and this woman Ashton’s never seen before in his life, and he remembers just how complicated things have the potential to get.

He doesn’t want to be jealous of Chetney. He doesn’t want to be jealous of anyone, because it’s plain to see that would be a losing way to approach anything with Fearne. He has a respect for Chetney as a co-worker, because under the bullshit the old gnome has kept himself alive for a stupidly long time in ways that can’t be just luck, and he is generally a pretty good person to have on your side in a fight. He’s come to like having Chetney around. He accepted Chetney’s offer for a massage because it was a really bad pain day and it didn’t seem likely to make things worse.

“Is this still working for you?” At the sound of Chetney’s voice, Ashton blinks and their body feels like a heap of wet noodles, not in the worst way they’ve ever felt like a heap of wet noodles. Chetney’s just been working away at what feels like all of them. How long have they been out in their own head?

It’s not a zero pain, but it’s less than when they started, and less than they felt yesterday, and apparently that’s enough for them to go limp as a cat and daydream.

“..Yeah, s’working,” they manage.

“How much more do you want?”

How much more does he want? There’s an urge to roll over onto his back and just…whatever with Chetney. Make out with their hands down each other’s pants. It’s what he would have done some years ago — though no, that’s not quite right, because he wouldn’t have been looking so far out of his age range that many years ago. Was it the accident that gave him the interest in more than just young bodies, bodies with some real wear on them, or was that just the process of getting older?

More could change. More will change, regardless of what he does. Ashton breathes again, relaxes, aware of Chetney’s body on top of him. “Gimme what you got.”