can i have you (and your hand in marriage), best friend?

by fraudulence

Summary:

even with their lack of moments to be summarized as 'best friends', they sure do have a duty to make sure they're each other's helping hands. that's normal, and that's what friends are for!

to say they're much of an idiot to cope with those shenanigans.

Notes:

for the ashlyle childhood friends truther (me) this is for you (also me)

Chapter 1: corner i: what should we say to the cameras?

“I think we should normalize saying people to fuck off.”

Karlyle halts.

“Pardon?”

Perhaps his way of explaining is a bit too strong, and a bit too vague. Ash, having been silent since the time he came to his house is saying things like this after he bid his greetings to him, is now visibly on edge.

He sighed, slowly, before coming down from his unpleasant emotions springing down to his throat. Maybe he is too strong on that.

“What I meant to say is,” he started, after getting closer to him. He sits on the vacant chair nearest to Karlyle, eye to eye with steady hue of gray and silver. “I think we should tell people to start shutting up when they’re starting to get on your nerves. Like that one on the pub? Take that as an example.”

Oh, Ash is talking about that incident at Waterloo, two days ago. They’re hanging out again after decades of hiatus, both were so lucky to bumped each other on their way home after work, so Ash made a hasty decision of them having a meal and catch up to each other’s situations. It was a perfect date to him, to be honest. Karlyle is content enough to have Ash again, since it has been a long time they have each other.

The main issue Ash is talking about must be the time when someone come to their table and asked for his phone number, five minutes before the dish is served, also very unethically. Karlyle’s phone number cannot be exposed to random people he does not have any significant business with, so he shook the intruder softly, very politely. Because in whatever situation, he must remain intact. The moral of a gentleman is first and foremost.

That’s not the only error happening, but he did feel Ash’s mild pheromones vary to something prickly, then. His expression may fooled one’s clueless mind, but his way of incite an emotion is by his change of pheromones. Tho it is, very briefly occur to that situation—even Karlyle himself is questioning the slight differences, or he’s simply being sensitive—Ash is back to his usual, bubbly sunshine he is after that scene.

“I know you’re very polite, but it’s really okay if you sometimes just snap at them. They’re imposing you, and if you’re in a situation like that again,”

Ash touched the back of his hand, quietly, then his hold gains power. “Don’t be shy to crack their neck.”

One thing Ash doesn’t know, probably, Karlyle is very attentive about him. He knows him since childhood days, and even if they’re not spending time with each other as proper friends, Karlyle values him more than one can imagine their string is. So, judging by the accident in the pub, even if he’s trying so bad to prevent the looming expressions, he could definitely saw those cold razors in the shape of his gaze.

If he can be honest with Ash, he could conclude that it’s actually Ash that’s about to break their necks. Not him.

But that could be his delusional romantic mind speaking behalf of him—mostly, if he could be brave to admit—that Ash is actually a jealous man, getting defensive over him being approached with ill intentions. Which there is no way, again, because they barely spend the past of their boyhood with each other.

“I propose another alternative for that.” He suggests, small stretch on his lips barely concealed—the image of him knocking people down for something as trivial as asking for his status of relationship is not especially appealing. “I cannot brace the shame if I caught red-handed beating people over those matters, Ash. I’ll be everywhere in the news not even twelve hours after.”

That’s most necessary. There’ll be news and flyers flying around without time to process the day. Oh, dear. The headache he would have to face by his grandfather’s wrath is unnecessary.

“You’ll look good in the news, tho.” It’s what his conclusion—Ash offered a smile, doubtful as he placed a kiss on the back of Karlyle’s hand. “But of course, we cannot get you in trouble, Karlyle. I’ll handle the trouble to myself, then.”

Is that a good thing?

His conscience can tell; that is, indeed, not a good sign.

“Don’t worry getting your hands soiled.”

“Ash,” he called. The anxious in his voice is masked with some kind of warmth, a tingle of affection and worry. There’s no way Ash is so invested at those type of interactions. Ash is a gentleman, very soft and most definitely cannot even imaginable for him to hurt a fly.

“You can count on me, Karlyle. I will tear them apart for you.”

This is supposed to be a joke. The flash on his eyes is quite unfortunate of denotations. So he tried harder, alarms ringing on his head. “Ash.”

He offers another hand to rest on his shoulder, small pats and caress because he cannot provide another service more sufficient to calm those nerves springing on his blood. He’s not very helping, he noticed.

But Ash melted easily to him, wrapping his arms around him as he gets pulled close—until he could feel his breath gently fan the back of his neck. He sighs, then. A series of disappointment unwind to a simple solution. Karlyle reckons, as they grow up and he gets the chance to thread their fragile alliance, a physical form of affection is his best way to communicate with each other. For as long as he is a son to a marquis, he cannot possibly spend his time with Ash as his heart longs for—vice versa for Ash, a commoner with no string linked to anything similar to noble world.

This is what they made, with their lack of quality time and chances slim to nothing.

“Have you calm down?” A gentle pat on his back, and Ash did not suggest any alternatives for verbal commutation aside sinking his face closer to his nape and shook his head. Very cute indeed, strain bangs tickled his exposed skin. He almost laughed out loud. Instead of that, he just chuckled.

“We still need to think how to chase off those people, Karlyle.” He stated, voice muffled. “Do not try to win me over this.”

Karlyle replied with a gentle ‘sure’, because he sure does look forward to what he could come up with and bring it to the table. Ash is quite creative with his solutions, after all.

Chapter 2: corner ii: place me anywhere next to you

Summary:

he does not have any regrets for the past, but the only thing he hold is his memories.

one thing that seems illegal by his grandfather than in the eye of law, is how dangerously close they are to each other by the label of ‘The Nice Kid from the Neighbourhood’.

nice.

look, by sane person’s logic, how could a family member still have their hands on a business of an adult? nosy grandparents exist, sure. but so much as monitoring their circle of vicinity? lunatic, really.

one thing he always hold a grudge in his heart is how devastatingly rich and influential karlyle’s family is, they had this special circumstance where everything that’s beyond comprehension for commoners like him to understand, is likely normal for them with high status.

he realized he was far too rooted in hatred for their status difference.

was it normal, tho? for him to get so mad for something he cannot control? karlyle’s situation is the same, both of them had no idea and clearly cannot chose which family they will be born to. and for such matter, neither of them expected to have this bond for over a decade and still going—he does not, in fact, expect karlyle to keep their friendship because he was a bastard with so many suspicions to think that his best friend would end him the same way, as much as the nobles do.

such a friend he is. he assumed much.

or simply, he was being paranoid of how he will be perceived.

perhaps that’s the case.

the duration of their usual walk extended to two hours. for the sake of the ‘upcoming exam study’ that will happen in the next two months, karlyle ended up tutoring him a course that’s … not exactly his department to teach.

“i want to know your perspective of arts and culture,” he reasoned, the confusion in his eyes is so adorable, it shakes him to his core. “like—you know, your point of view for the market as an investor.” explain it to me like I’m five, like he has those curriculum in his syllabi.

then, karlyle told him about how art affects people and their influence on the market. His very thick papers of the theories titled as ‘economics’ got this eerie presence on the table, as well as the blank sheets for scratches because he’s getting oddly specific. his words are simple enough for people outside the business majors to understand, ash could even swear kids would had a prodigy if karlyle is tutoring. he had this intrusive thought of moving from his major to whatever karlyle is taking for milliseconds.

and then ash told him about the how the market for art has been expending from time to time, how viewers would react psychologically to an art and how a form of art itself were made. until his throat starts to dry, karlyle listens to him with his pair of eyes glimmered with warm glow of the café lights. he looked innocent there. ash could talk shit and lied about the conspiracies of queen of england and the forces behind her, he had this gut feeling karlyle would take it and listens to him even if he’s just yapping nonsense.

ash takes him home then, side by side as usual after a long day of study. (was that really a study, tho? he’s kinda doubtful.) he talks about the soccer tournaments like he’s some official commentator and his view of the new kitty café near his neighbourhood. karlyle responds to him with shy portions of excitement and his plan to come with him to the said kitty café. he briefly told ash his plan for upcoming holidays, another thing that brought his attention is his little brother’s current interest of a pet, and how kyle is quite resembles this type of cat he visited two weeks ago.

“a ragdoll,” he said. his lips stretched to a gentle smile. “they have blue eyes. It may not the same colour, but they remind me of his eyes.”

he does not picture karlyle to be a cat person, but when he said he saw kyle’s reflection to a ragdoll, ash see this absurd vision of karlyle being a parent to an adorable furry fella out there. strangely, his mind is so far invested in it, karlyle is suddenly in the position to lay down in the bask of sunlight, the same way the said pet to lay down on his chest after a play, and karlyle would comply and laughter deep and—

“ash,”

strange indeed.

when he is finally back in his right mind, he’s probably an inch or two away from hitting the brick wall—well he will, if karlyle doesn’t hold him just in time. just a pinch on his sleeve, but that too is enough to send his heart ablaze.

he’s being a goddamn weirdo now, isn’t he.

“sorry,” he started, meek and docile. “i think the caffein finally hit.”

karlyle made a face close to concern, and it’s so so adorable, how does it feel to have that face close to him any day? he wonders. “that seems bad.”

“not at all.” he snickers, karlyle is still holding to his sleeve. “I was wondering why my stomach feels funny.” let’s be real now, was it really because of the caffein, that his whole body is trembling?

“we should get you home, quick.” karlyle pulled away then. and ash does not given time to grief, because karlyle is pressing his cold handkerchief to his cheek. “you’re sweating. are you feeling sick anywhere?”

no coherent enough for him to think, the bells are ringing in his ears.

FUCK. He swallowed a groan, in the poorest ever masked laughter. shit, that’s not the wedding bells he’s hearing.

so to sum up, ash ended up aided in karlyle’s home, his nanny is there very coincidentally because she’s usually home after dawn. he may or may not almost pass out on the way to his house—apparently, he did forget to have a bite or two of some café’s dessert for the cause of not strong enough to stomach a two-shot espresso. his nanny made them dinner, nothing’s new about the ever chatty mariam and her cheery voice talking about them both.

(“i remembered the both of you are attached to the hips when young master and mr. jones are still a small baby,” she started somewhere between dessert, today’s menu is special—lemon meringue pie as he favoured. “i was saddened because young master had no time to rest after coming of age, but i am so glad you both find each other again.”)

how has it been? a year, two, twelve years ago, perhaps?

he stayed for the night at karlyle’s mercy. there’s so many layers before karlyle finally agreed to let him stay instead of taking him home. he got this morning class that he’s always brought up in a horrible tone in the way he’s trying to beat everyone’s grade (especially mackenzie, his senior he looked up but too prideful to admit) and karlyle remembers every small detail of it. his reasonings are risky, a take home quiz he made up in the span of ten seconds after karlyle kind of caught him red handed (he had to contact mackenzie after this).

“my sister had her own home to take care of,” he reasoned number two, then received a call from a shouting natalie because he forgot to give the package she entrusted to, and came to an empty house. (this one is embarrassing. she shouts loud enough for karlyle to get startled. but he’s so cute tho. that will forever keep in his core memory.)

and ash brought up the last one, “it’s been a while since we had a sleepover.”

remember elementary years? he told him like he personally just arranges the whole sleepover party with karlyle and his little brother and his friends. when he had campfire settled in their backyard, sharing marshmallow pack because that was the only time karlyle could consume as many sugars allowed. he had that gummy smile back then, a blanket for two and—

and karlyle tried his best to swallow a hard pill after the departure of ash’s existence then.

they talked a bit before heading to bed, small conversations in the sitting room, dim light with a swish of nostalgia.

god, he wishes he will never have to lose karlyle ever again.

“i’m more of a dog person, actually.”

“i can see that.”

“but what do you think i suit the most?”

“between a dog and a cat?”

“this is a critical question, karlyle.”

ash saw karlyle’s dimming eyes, a soft crescent formed in his eyes. he told karlyle how his friends are torn between him being a dog or a cat person, so he told ash that he suits more than what they can offer.

“what does that mean?”

karlyle stared at him. “should we start looking for a pet?”

oh, my god.

"we can start by sightseeing, too. whatever you wish, ash."

fuck, the fucking bells are in his ears again.

“a dog,” ash started, twinkles of something warm and obvious. “we should start adopting a dog.”

he smiled. “i thought so, too.”

 

Notes:

i swear i didnt mean to leave this fic hanging ily childhood au ashlyle i will come to serve anywhere and everywhere

Notes:

this is a small part of daily best friends ash jones and karlyle frost. will they kiss tho? stay tuned to find out!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of you're the place my life begins, and you'll be where it ends