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The sun was barely in the sky, the large studio apartment clattering to life as a tall man yawned at a Keurig, brewing a cup of hazelnut coffee. Dressed in a simple white shirt and black boxer shorts, his ensemble matched his half coloured hair. The floor creaked as the man made his way towards a Sota Cosmos turntable, slender fingers skimming over his records, another weary yawn escaping his lips. The man knew he had something to do later, and despite time ticking faster in his mental clock, he decided to squat down and look through his records more thoroughly.

Finally deciding, soft bass strummed and echoed through the apartment, the man making his way back to the kitchen. Passing by the metallic fridge, he opened it and pulled out two different creamers, shutting it with enough force that the single note left fluttered off. 'Winter: 9AM park shoot'-- the hastily scribbled note crumpled as Winter himself walked over it, resting the two creamers on the counter. Changing the kcup from his coffee to another's and starting a second brew.

Winter mixed creamer into the coffee until it was practically white, large hands grabbing a jar of sugar cubes and pouring a handful in. He took a tentative sip, shrugging at the taste before glancing at the oven timer. Pushing himself from leaning on the counter, he made his way past the turntable, jazz swelling as Winter made his way to the only bedroom. Pushing the already slightly ajar door with his foot, he knocked lightly with his free hand.

"You awake? It's already almost six."
He elbowed the lightswitch, floorboards creaking as he walked in, opening the curtains to reveal a slightly lightening sky, still mostly dark, the moon grinning at them. "I got a shoot in a few hours," Winter said aloud in between sips, pausing to stare down at the city below, billboards and signs and joggers and traffic, "Also you're almost out of your coffee-- I'll buy some on my way back if you want."

"Mmm--"

Ash was having a nice dream. A nice, surreal, Ash-style dream. Acres of land spread out beneath his feet, bright green and red and pink with grasses and wild flowers that gathered at his hip and waved wildly in the blistering gales that pressed against his back. The sky above was pitch black and dotted with stars; crisp with winter chill and endlessness. Ash breathed out in this dream of his, watching with a mystified expression as his sigh escaped him in the form of a cloud. He sighed again and again until the stars above were heavy and hidden behind his own creation, a storm of cosmic proportions.

The wind picked up, bringing with it a familiar voice he could easily tune out but decided not to because it was a pleasant sound to focus on over the rumbling above. The storm brewed in the dark sky as he settled onto the hard dream-earth and listened to the voice, the small whispers that urged him to forget the lightness of sleeping despite his body's wish to stay dormant. Hands reached up from the earth slowly, curled across his ankles and wrists and hips, holding him steady and gently as his dream tried to continue on and on and on.

And then everything vanished in a burst of light and the rustling of fabric. Ash flipped over in the bed and buried his face into the pillow, muttering out a curse that even he couldn't decipher. The dream lived on the tattered remains of his unconsciousness, showing images of lightning and scattered flowers and familiar eyes, and then it was gone all together and Ash was left awake and groggy. Grumpy. He sat up slowly and blinked out at the room, lower half wrapped tightly in a sheet which he didn't have the energy to get out of. His eyes turned to the open window and he sighed, staring out at the curling moon and still-starry sky with a dubious gaze.

"Early..." Was all he managed to say as he swayed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The smell of coffee and Winter was enough to drag his eyes over to the man by the window and, despite his irked state, he forced a tiny smile and carded his fingers through his horrendously tousled hair. Instead of moving from the bed to greet them, however, he leaned forward onto his elbows and curled his legs to cross lightly in the air above his sheet-covered backside. "Good mornin-- wait, wait. I'm out of coffee already?"

Ashley twisted slightly stare out the door, as if prepared to see his diminished stock from just a glance. Instead of seeing the kitchen, he heard jazz echoing from the rest of the apartment. Classy. Doesn't make me anyless coffee-less however. His eyebrows furrowed, again, with annoyance and he turned back to Winter to share the exaggerated expression, "Coffee guzzler-- you're a menace on my household~." Despite his harsh words, however, his lips were spread into a snarky, tired grin, and his face slid down to rest against the rumpled bed. The northern light falling in through the window pressed against his bare shoulders and sleep-ruined hair, and it reflected in his dark eyes as he said, "I'd appreciate it, though. The getting me coffee thing. That'd be sweet of you." Ash sighed again, eyes sliding shut as a second wind of sleepiness threatened to steal away his mind again.

"Damn it's early-- anyway you have a shoot? Tell me more, or uh, talk about it before I pass out again."

At the sound of his awakening partner, Winter's brows raised, turning his eyes from the streets to look at the disheveled mess that was Ash. Finishing pulling away the curtains, the taller man made his way to the bed, taking a sip of his coffee before lightly tapping it against the dark haired man's head. Despite being of similar ages, there was a difference between them that almost made Ash feel... much younger. A rawness that elicited a response in Winter that, usually, only young men and women in their twenties could.

"First of all, it's my household," said Winter as he took a seat on the bed beside Ash, taking another sip of his ultra sweet coffee. "Second of all, it's not my fault you like the good kind." Resting the mug on the floor, the man pulled his legs up onto the bed, wrapping his larger yet slimmer torso over Ash, resting his whole body on top of him, matching limb for limb. The older of the two entwined his fingers over Ash's head, resting his chin over it as the music continued to play.

At the mention of the shoot, Winter raised a brow. Pulling his hands from Ash's head and wrapping them around his torso, the man rested his head in the crook of the younger man's shoulder, his hair shadowing Ash's shoulder blade from the sun's good morning kiss, replacing it instead with one of his own. He tasted like skin and bed. "It's for a summer shoot, and today's the only sunny day," he started, speaking to muscle, each word brushing his lips against skin, "It's still cold as fuck out, though. It's with the actress--- ah. I forget her name... she's in that show you watch, the short one. It's her and some newbies."

A pause, and Winter looked up, the arms wrapped around Ash tightening as his fingers trailed muscle, leading up to lightly massage a pec. His chin rested on Ash's back and he voiced monotonously and yet, with concern, "Speaking of, we need to do something for you, soon. Has your manager got you any jobs yet? I hear there are a lot of shoe companies looking for commercial models and--" his bare feet kicked at the sheets until they were pushed aside, allowing him to carelessly caress Ash's toned legs-- "I'm sure I can do something for you."

Hands ghosted up and over Ash as Winter got comfortable on top of him, hands warmed by coffee mugs and a glint of light that Ashley couldn't understand. They pressed lightly against his back, his chest, bringing with them a feeling that shouldn't be foreign to him but still somehow was. Ash felt his lips rippled into a goofy grin, a smile so genuine that it scared away all the wariness from his face and left him with contentment. He remembered last night, remembered the ache in his hips and the whispers in his ear, and his smile only grew to hide the pink color that ran down his neck. The beating in his heart began again, the same that filled his mind with blood and lust only a couple hours prior. All this touching was distracting him from remembering that damned Actress, dammit!

Ash swallowed whatever warmth that threatened to soak through the rest of his body and laughed instead, pressing further into the bed as Winter toyed with his chest mindlessly. "Hope you're not touching Miss. Actress like this, bud." He whispered, voice full of warmth and jest that quickly faded away into a shocked gasp as chilling bedroom air met his thighs. He frowned and squirmed against Winter's touch, hands crossing out from under him to press down against the bed, lifting up both himself and Winter. Weight shifted with a huff and a crackling shoulder and suddenly Winter was on the bed beside him and Ash was left chilled to the bone and red with more memories.

Ash sat up, pulling the sheets up over his shoulders to mask the flush and chase away the chill of the apartment, and pressed a hand into Winter's chest as if attempting to keep him down. A silent apology crossed thrugh his gaze, twisted his lips and pressed against his posture like dead weight. Ash' face was twisted this time, a mixture of hidden admiration and disgruntled realization. Ah right, work, work, work. A distant memory of a phone call last night came and went. The caller ID was unseen, but he could assume it was his manager, because that idiot always seemed to call at the worst times. Ash leaned down and pressed his face against Winter's chest, staring up at him with wide, dark eyes, "Pretty sure Mike called last night but I was, ya know, busy." He shifted up a bit to press a few fluttering kisses to Winter's neck, so quick and light that he hadn't the time to take in his taste of scent. "I'll call him back later-- not ready for business talk yet."

Fingers trailed up Winter's waist, twisting above his white shirt, dragging lines against hidden flesh. Ash worked his hands mindlessly over Winter's waist and chest, eyes blank with memory as he stared up and out at the strong jaw that laid above him. A devious smile pressed against his lips almost too suddenly, and with a few quick motions he was eventually pressing his lips against Winter's neck again, breathing wordlessly against the flesh. Sighs danced across the swath of skin, warm and ceaselessly, and he spoke quietly as if afraid to shatter a human's throat with words alone. "You're right, ya know," He whispered, eyes resting shut gently, "It is chilly outside. Why not stay in? Where it's warmer, less crowded..." His hand fell down to search out the other man's fingers, tapping against his knuckles playfully. Ashley liked to play this game, spurring lusty words in an effort to forget about the responsibilities that lay just outside this bedroom door.

Such a mischievous thing rarely worked on Winter, however. Ash knew this. But he would try anyway.

The sight of Ash's skin burning red made a small smile play on Winter's lips, enjoying the effect he had on the younger man. It boosted his ego-- and though it's not to say Winter's ego needed any boosting, but honestly, what man wouldn't be flattered by someone melting under them? He let his hands pause in their massaging, resting under the shorter man, tucking his head between Ash's neck and shoulder, resting his lips on his heated skin.

A small laugh vibrated in his throat at the other half's quip, Winter responding in a joking, "Trust me, it's too cold outside to be touching her like th-- oh-" The comment was cut short by a mild comment of surprise, easily replaced with laughter as he landed on the bed with a light bounce, his hair tangling in his face as his slender limbs automatically reached for the covers, tucking it under his chin and batting his lashes playfully, letting them go without a fight as Ash took them in his hands. "Ooh, dominant, I like that," said Winter at the hand on his chest in an almost deadpan, except for the small smile in his eyes and the dimple playing on his cheek.

When Ash rested his head onto his chest, Winter played with his hair instantly, shuffling himself until they both were comfortable. He gathered spare bed sheet into a fluff, to prop his head up with and look down at his partner's deep eyes. Another smile. "Don't blame the good times," he said, his fingers gliding over the short hairs on the nape of Ash's neck. In a slightly more serious tone, lower and vibrating closer to his chest, he poked, "But seriously you should get on that. No one's ready for business talk, but we gotta do it."

Shivers ran instantly through Winter's body at the surprise attack on his neck, his cool facade instantly broken with a flush over his ears. He laughed breathlessly, the hand Ash was tapping entwining with the other man's. Their holds were similar and different all at once, with Winter's more lengthy and thin, just like the rest of him. Ash's, however, was protective and large, somehow both calloused and soft all at once. Winter tugged the hand up to kiss at it, quipping a playful, "Mm, you're right. That does sound better," the redness in his ears turning pink and cooling down.

"Still gotta get out and buy you're coffee though," he said, in faux reluctance, kissing Ash's knuckles again before tilting his head to kiss his nose, as though talking to a child. "This place won't be as warm without all the coffee."

Ashley pouted when Winter pecked his nose, eyebrows raising as he realized, belatedly, that his plan to lounge in bed all day was quickly uprooting itself. With an exasperated sigh, Ash buried his face into Winter's chest. He inhaled first before saying anything else, breathing in the scent of coffee and sugar and sex, and then flipped over onto his back to exclaim, "Fine, fine! Go be a successful adult already!" The sheets that curled around his legs hung low, showing off the wide-set V of his hips and the barely-visible hair that curled from his naval down, and Ash couldn't care less about the chill now. He just wanted to be asleep again, lazy and free. He just wanted to sit in this room that wasn't his and be fine with that. He just wanted everything worth working towards to fade away.

The buzz of his phone reminded Ashley, sadly, that there was indeed a life for him outside of Winter's loft. He didn't move immediately. There was a spell placed on him, again, that kept him pressed into the mattress with his hand full of Winter's and his mind full of morning mist. Sleep would welcome him, more so then a steady job. Ash couldn't help but feel his calluses rub against the soft flesh of his partner's hand, couldn't help but remember how he got them, couldn't help but know that if he would be able to stay this carefree if he went back to his old life.

Flash, crack, bang.

Ashley slipped his fingers free of Winter's when he felt his palms grow clammy with anxiety. The phone had gone silent after two more buzzes, and from his spot on the bed he could see three segmented messages gleam out on the cracked screen. With a grunt he sat up again, reaching over to unlock the nasty little device and skim the words sent to him by one Michael Wilde. Job offers rested between his calloused hands now, two possible jobs-- a fashion magazine wished to use his face for some organic makeup brand advertisement, and another commercial offer wished to dress him up in a new designer's label. Both were well over the amount of money he would be making back at his old haunts.

Ash sighed and glanced back at Winter, eyeing his almost cautiously. He trusted this man's word more than his own, especially when it came to business matters. Mike hadn't said anything about choosing one or the other, but still Ashley assumed he could have to favor an option in the end. Winter definitely had a better eye for jobs. Ashley shifted back onto the bed, legs tumbling beneath the sheets noisily.

"Got two job offers currently-- I think. It's still a bit too early to read." He settled back down onto the bed, placing his phone screen-up onto Winter's chest, "One of 'em wants me modeling makeup, huh? Do you think I'd make a pretty drag queen?" Ash pursed his lips for a moment, turning to lay on his side, and then his mouth open to a wide smile and his eyes glittered mischievously. His hands, however, fumbled with each other by Ash's stomach. He pinched the callouses on his fingers and dragged hard flesh across his sweaty palms, forming a rather quiet shuffling noise of skin against skin. It was his anxious habit. Everyone had one, right? Some people chewed on their hair, or picked their cuticles, or bit their lip. Ashley twisted himself. Wound tighter and tighter mentally until his fingers were red from strain and bunched nerves.

He had no reason to be anxious. Ash tilted his head until he could easily see the shape of Winter's jaw, and then he said, "Which offer do you think suits me best?"

When Ash's phone buzzed, Winter was the one to move first, reaching for his own phone before realizing it wasn't his that was buzzing. Nonetheless, he continued to pick himself up, making his way to seat himself on the side of the bed as the dark haired model behind him moved about as well. Reaching for his cooling coffee on the floor, Winter lifted it to his lips, tentative sips warming the back of his neck as the sweet heat of the coffee made it's way towards his chest. The enveloping warmth almost made up for Ash's missing warmth-- almost. The older photographer continued to sip at his drink, glancing to the side as Ash frowned over his phone.

Resting the coffee mug once more on the floor and glancing discreetly at the time on Ash's phone, Winter decided the other man's licentious attitude finally got him, laying back and letting the back of his head hit fabric. A single eye opened at the feel of lightly warm plastic resting on his chest, an arm propping up behind his head as his other hand reached for the phone. He tapped it as the screen dimmed, barely reading the first word as his eyes wandered up to Ash's face.

"I don't think you'd make a very good drag queen," commented Winter with a grin, a huff of air leaving his nose in laughter, "I've seen you walk barefoot, can't imagine how you'd handle heels." His eyes went back to the phone, his focus switching between the way Ash ticked nervously to the words detailing the job offer. It had been a long while since Winter had been nervous for a job, but perhaps it was how intimate Ash tended to be and how close they'd become, but Winter almost felt the anxiety from every brush of skin they had. It made him comment, "I can teach you tricks if you want, though," nonchalantly, as though a joke, but underneath it an assurance that he was beside him.

As Ash asked for his professional advice, Winter fell quiet, putting the phone down and shutting his eyes, the hand that wasn't behind his head making their way towards Ash's and just holding them. He stayed like that for a little, pale thumb lightly caressing calloused knuckles, the morning light starting to harshen as the day began to truly start.
"I think you should do the commercial," said the white haired photographer, opening his eyes and glancing towards Ash. "You have a good physique and you should show it off for now. You should ask Mike the scheduling though, there may be a chance you could get them both."
He pulled himself upright and placed the phone beside him on the bed, reaching a hand to mess Ash's hair-- "And there's nothing wrong with being greedy now and again," he added, another lazy grin on his face. Pulling the coffee mug from the ground once more, Winter stood as he took a drink, resting it on a nearby table as he made his way to his closet, pulling out items of clothing meticulously, as though he'd planned the night before what he was going to wear-- which of course couldn't be true given he'd been rather preoccupied.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower-- your coffee should be done brewin by now," he said, wrapping a tie around the hanger of a black button down before hesitating and putting it back. "I think I accidentally left my creamer out, too. Just put it back." Carrying the items of clothing with him to the attached bathroom, he added, "I'm coming out in ten minutes. If you're still in bed, I'm not buying you your coffee." It was an empty threat, and Ash probably knew it, but it was at least a bit of motivation. As Winter shut the shower room behind him, as though it was timed, the jazz faded to a stop, and the apartment was quiet.

After a heartbeat, it was replaced by the muffled sound of the shower on the other side.