Ash/Robin. Sisters.
Apr. 20th, 2007 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
actionreactionDay 20 of 31_days. Not an easy topic when you're writing slash. I made it work. XD
It was nerve-wracking was what it was. Robin cast another worried glance through the doorway at his mother, refilling a drink in the hand of Ash’s mother, still sitting at the dining room table. They’d been there for almost two hours following dinner, talking, and talking, and talking.
He’s been nervous all night. Since his mother seemed to arbitrarily decide to invite both Ash and his mother for dinner. The seventeen year old figure skater had called Ash immediately, during work, at the firehouse, the first two minutes of his conversation nearly intelligible due to his slight hysteria.
Ash had calmed him down, but he was no less nervous. Their moms. Together. It had to have spelled doom, right?
The two women were still steadily chatting like sisters, exchanging jokes, stores, embarrassing details about their sons, as if the months of secrecy, hiding, and lying were unimportant. As if it didn’t matter that their sons were eight years apart and dating, one still in high school, and the entire situation quite illegal in Wisconsin.
Robin washed the last dish and handed it to Ash to dry; the older man put it aside, tugged him over and pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead. “Their getting along can’t really be a bad thing, can it?” Robin asked.
Ash’s answer was another kiss, this one to his lips as almost girlish giggling laughter rose from the other room.
Robin decided so long as Ash was kissing him, and their mothers weren’t keeping them apart, they could act as much like sisters as they damn well pleased.
It was nerve-wracking was what it was. Robin cast another worried glance through the doorway at his mother, refilling a drink in the hand of Ash’s mother, still sitting at the dining room table. They’d been there for almost two hours following dinner, talking, and talking, and talking.
He’s been nervous all night. Since his mother seemed to arbitrarily decide to invite both Ash and his mother for dinner. The seventeen year old figure skater had called Ash immediately, during work, at the firehouse, the first two minutes of his conversation nearly intelligible due to his slight hysteria.
Ash had calmed him down, but he was no less nervous. Their moms. Together. It had to have spelled doom, right?
The two women were still steadily chatting like sisters, exchanging jokes, stores, embarrassing details about their sons, as if the months of secrecy, hiding, and lying were unimportant. As if it didn’t matter that their sons were eight years apart and dating, one still in high school, and the entire situation quite illegal in Wisconsin.
Robin washed the last dish and handed it to Ash to dry; the older man put it aside, tugged him over and pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead. “Their getting along can’t really be a bad thing, can it?” Robin asked.
Ash’s answer was another kiss, this one to his lips as almost girlish giggling laughter rose from the other room.
Robin decided so long as Ash was kissing him, and their mothers weren’t keeping them apart, they could act as much like sisters as they damn well pleased.