[ic] [Ash] Awkward Phone Calls
The combination of lingering jet-lag and an impressive amount of sleeping pills to avoid the onslaught of nightmares had left Lacroix blissfully dead to the world for several hours. He very rarely slept deeply, or well, but drugged enough he could pass out for long enough to feel rested, and that had been his plan the evening following the trip to
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This wasn’t a repeat client; he’d met with Ash once, and it had been his first ever session with a professional dominant -- perhaps that was why he was fixating on Ash, and had ignored his request not to receive calls while he was away on vacation.
“...Master, I know it’s late,” the caller began, sounding rather uncertain, as if he expected Ash to snap at him. It was probably 3AM back in New York City; the caller didn’t profess any knowledge of the time difference because Ash hadn’t told anyone where he was going -- save for Vince and his friends list on his journal, all people he knew wouldn’t go running off and telling Hector. Instead, he’d posted on his pro dom website that he would be absent for two weeks before returning home to resume work.
“But I was hoping that maybe... maybe we could have a phone session. Just a short one, if you’re not busy,” he continued, sounding a little desperate, a little needy. “I already sent you tribute. Did you get it? If it’s not enough, I’ll send more. Just tell me what to do, please.”
Blissfully unaware, Ash was still showering in the other room; if it had been him answering the phone, he’d have just hung up right there -- anyone disobeying him by calling him on his vacation really didn’t deserve any special treatment.
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Lacroix just blinked, slowly, entirely certain he hadn't even heard the words correctly, and he knew for a fact that the voice on the other end of the line was not Hector calling to check up on him.
"Huh?" It really was just about all he could manage, very fully confused at first by thinking he must have misheard the words and then hearing more clearly the longer the voice continued in that desperate tone.
"Excuse me?" Lacroix didn't know what to say, he had no idea who would be calling him period, aside from Hector the only people that had his number were Ash and Senri; and he was more than certain that it was neither of them.
Since even a practical joke from Senri might have been odd but not that odd, plus it was easy to recognize his friend's voice by the accent to his words in English.
As he sat up slowly, lifting a hand to rub his eyes and push his messy hair away from them, Lacroix peered around the room to get his brain in proper working order while he made an effort to understand just what the person on the phone was saying.
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“Whatever you want me to do -- I’ll do it,” the caller continued; even if he was new, he was educated enough to know that requesting something specific in-scene would have gotten him verbally berated by Ash for trying to run the show. “Please don’t hang up on me -- whatever pleases you, I’ll do it.”
The shower finally turned off in the bathroom, but Ash would still be a few minutes getting dressed. If he knew what Lacroix was being subjected to right now, he’d have probably freaked out -- he did not want Lacroix knowing about this.
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Once it became clear that the guy on the other end of the line was going to continue that conversation in spite of his obvious confusion Lacroix was just baffled.
"I think-" Lacroix paused long enough to scratch the side of his neck, some of the things the guy was saying left him perplexed and feeling a bit awkward attempting to deal with it.
Wait.
Lacroix looked at his phone for a moment, slow clarity and reason sliding over his scattered thoughts. The small device in his hand didn't look quite right; it wasn't his phone.
That just added another layer of utter confusion to the moment; who would call Ash like that?
That left Lacroix sitting there just staring at the phone, not sure what to do at first. Well, it was Ash's phone, so he couldn't just assume it was a wrong number, maybe...it wasn't.
"Hold on just a second," he quickly added to the silence he had left on his end of that phone call.
Hearing motion in the other room, Lacroix placed his hand over the phone to cut down on the noise as he untangled from the sheets and straightened his t-shirt and sleep pants before climbing out of the bed. After making his way to the bedroom door and nudging it open he peered out into the hallway, not hearing the shower running but seeing no sign of Ash either.
He walked to the bathroom door, feeling a bit awkward when he lifted a hand to knock on it lightly.
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“Morning,” he voiced with a smile, pleased that Lacroix was finally awake. He was already thinking about what they might do today, the places they might go; even though they’d only been here a few days, he was already happy with the time spent with Lacroix so far. He lifted his eyebrows after that, curious; obviously Lacroix must have needed something if he’d knocked on the door.
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He handed the phone off to Ash, trying very hard not to just stand there and look at him; because who didn't find themselves just looking when somebody half clothed was right in front of them.
Right, that was rude though; he left Ash to deal with that phone call and edged back off to the bedroom to find his suitcase and dig up something to wear; he did need to get dressed and that was a great excuse to give Ash some privacy without making it seem like a big deal, hopefully.
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...or at least no reason to be alarmed until the caller began talking. Immediately after a “Master, is that you?” Ash promptly ended the call without another word, and turned off his ringer to boot; it really, really annoyed him that a client would have the gall to bother him on vacation. He wanted to escape work completely, to just spend time with Lacroix for the two weeks without any distractions from back home.
Normally it would have been just a minor annoyance, easily forgotten. But... what had his client said on the phone to Lacroix? A little stab of panic formed in his gut with the possilities; he hoped that it had only been ‘Hello, is Asher there?’ Shoving his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Ash turned to reenter the bathroom long enough to pull on his shirt and toss his towel in the hamper before exiting. He didn’t want to barge in on Lacroix, so he knocked on the doorframe of the bedroom, a silent request for entry.
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Since he was still wearing what he had slept in it wasn't as though it mattered if Ash walked into the room, he sat there trying to find a t-shirt that matched the pair of black pants he had freed from the inner recesses of the suitcase.
"Yeah? I not like...undressed or anything," Lacroix spoke to the door rather than Ash directly since it was still shut between them. Shortly after that comment he returned to digging through his clothes, organized chaos; that.
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“...So many arm-warmers,” he mused, settling onto the bed on his stomach and peering down at Lacroix’s clothes. His hair was still a little wet, and he hadn’t bothered to brush it at all; he’d get to that later, yeah. For now, Lacroix had his complete focus. “You aren’t going to wear those on the beach, are you?” he asked, a curious question. That would have been a little weird, yeah, but if it really did make Lacroix uncomfortable to show his wrists, then Ash certainly wasn’t going to press the issue.
But he left the conversation there, still a little concerned about that phone call. He watched Lacroix very closely, trying to pick up on any discomfort in his body language.
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One would think that if he slept with them on he wasn't likely to venture out in public without them either, even to somewhere like the beach with all the sand and water. Some things were still just a little uncomfortable to deal with, and maybe they would always be.
To prove the point he held up a pair that sported a black and white checkerboard pattern with splashes of colors here and there, "I have swim trunks that match."
No, he wasn't kidding about that fact, and yes, he did in fact buy them specifically to match.
He was a little uncertain about the conversation, yes, since he almost wanted to ask if it had been a wrong number. If nothing else it had been a very...interesting way to wake up that morning.
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But he too was still a little uncertain about the phone situation. Part of him wanted to ignore it, but part of him really did want to know what Lacroix had heard, so... he asked, as casually as possible, “...hey, what’d that guy say on the phone?” ‘That guy,’ because Ash had no clue what the client’s name was.
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Of course he didn't answer, since it wasn't really the sort of comment that most people would have attempted to reply to.
Once certain he could trust himself not to do something as silly as blushing, Lacroix felt it was safe to glance up towards the bed where Ash was sprawled. But he shouldn't have, since that question came a few seconds later.
"Ah...some very interesting things to wake up hearing, heh." The truth, yes, but Lacroix saw no reason to lie; if it had been a wrong number then they could laugh at his expense and he didn't really mind but if not then Ash likely already knew the sort of things the caller had said.
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In his mind, he was damned if he told and damned if he didn’t, so he just... tried to make his explanation as harmless as he possibly could.
“He’s someone I act with. He was in-character; he was just acting, practicing his lines,” Ash explained, and while that wasn’t the whole truth... it still was the truth. Most of his clients weren’t lifestyle dominants, didn’t walk around general society in a collar and fetish wear. They were just playing the part for a session, before returning to normality after it was over, just like Ash himself did. “He probably thought you were me, and wanted me to practice my lines back, that’s all. Don’t worry about it. Sorry if he freaked you out.”
Even though his tone was a practiced calm, he was still inwardly nervous; he had no idea how Lacroix would react to that explanation.
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It also didn't explain just exactly what Ash was rehearsing that might involve a part like that; the guy had been very convincing, to say the least.
And there was the other obvious point, "He thought I was you, and didn't correct me when I was confused and didn't know what to say."
Lacroix was just very...perplexed right then, openly, trying to grasp the oddity of the situation. Unlike Ash he wasn't very good at all at masking the expression on his face or the tone of his voice; that was one of the reasons he had to lie so outlandishly when he did to peoples' faces, overdoing it at least covered up any doubt.
But while he couldn't really guess if it was the truth or not he probably wasn't the most justified person so far as demanding the truth from people given as much as he had to hide himself.
For all he knew it could have been as simple as Ash was seeing someone and had the sort of relationship with them that he was uncomfortable talking about, or else didn't obviously want him to know since he was there with him on vacation at the time.
There was no way of knowing the truth to that either; but the possibility did leave Lacroix entirely unsure of what to think if that were the case.
It was another of those moments, which happened a fair amount in the last few months as his life had changed so drastically, where Lacroix felt like a foolish, stumbling kid compared to the world around him; and there was a hint of frustration in that.
"I should go get dressed," Lacroix finally concluded as he overstated his obvious intentions with clothes in hand and already standing by the time he spoke.
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“Hey, come here,” he encouraged, reaching out from his place on the bed to gently grasp Lacroix’s nearest arm-warmer-covered wrist. If Lacroix resisted, Ash wasn’t going to force him to stay, but he really didn’t want Lacroix leaving feeling uncomfortable like that. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He couldn’t read minds; he wanted to know exactly what Lacroix was thinking so he could try to ease whatever exact worries those might be.
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It always felt very strange to have anyone touch his arms, from his wrists up to the bend of his elbow Lacroix kept covered and only removed those fabric sleeves when he was in the shower or sleeping, or now even on rare occasions when he was cooking or something else that was messy or too energetic to avoid getting uncomfortably warm with them on at the apartment since Hector already knew why he wore them.
Still, even that was a thin line he wasn't always at ease in crossing; people had their own sort of security blankets to mask their uncertainties.
And that's why he hadn't asked too many questions, even if he had wanted to; he felt that he had no real right to question anything Ash wanted to hide when there were things he didn't share with the world himself.
That touch had forced him to pause, it was very unfamiliar in a way, not uncomfortable so much as it was attention-demanding.
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