#unfortunately I still find David duchovny stupid hot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morningfears · 6 years

Text

1996

Rating: PG-13

Request: “Hi! Can you write an Ashton fic where the two are best friends (btw this is gonna be a real cheesy request I’m sorry) and the reader has been in love with him for years. I found the prompt “it’s okay. You don’t have to love me,” and this just came to my mind. If you have a better idea with the prompt feel free to use it! There needs to be more Ash fics in the world ❤️” for @cxddlyash

Word Count: 2.3k

The chime of the bell hanging above the door is lost among the sounds of the newest Marilyn Manson album filling the empty record shop. It’s half an hour until closing, the sign still reads ‘Unfortunately, We’re Open,’ and it causes a grin to quirk Ashton’s lips as he reads over it for what must be the millionth time. He loves the character of the little shop, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles traffic, and he’s almost certain that he would’ve still found his way to Atomic Records even if you hadn’t gotten a job there. He loves it, almost as much as you do, but he knows that he doesn’t stick around for the burnout regulars or the shitty coffee place next door.

He could find a million record shops, just like Atomic, scattered around the country.

But he sticks around this one because you’re there. You’re there, usually standing behind the counter littered with copies of Rolling Stone, a bright grin on your face as you talk about the latest Soundgarden record, and he’s never far from you. He hasn’t been farther than a fifteen minute drive away from you in almost twenty years and he doesn’t plan on that changing now.

Ashton thinks about how permanent you’ve been in his life, how when everything else changed, you didn’t, and he can’t help himself as he creeps up behind you. You’re focused on organizing the vinyl, your fingers thumbing over record sleeves without a second thought, and he’s overwhelmed by the urge to launch himself at you when he notices that the flannel you’re wearing is his. So, without a second thought, he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you into a tight hug.

You tense at the feeling of someone touching you, your mind instantly running through the self-defense moves from the class that your mother insisted you take, until you hear a familiar voice hum your name. “Get off of me, Irwin,” you laugh, not even feigning annoyance, as Ashton squeezes your waist tighter and rocks you side-to-side far too quickly, “some of us have jobs to do!”

“That’s why I’m here, doll,” he informs you with a grin as he finally unwraps his arms from your waist and reaches his arm over your shoulder for the re-stock pile of vinyl on the table in front of you. “We’ve got a gig tonight, wanted you to be there. So, I’m gonna help you close up.”

“Cal still hell-bent on being the next big thing in grunge?” you question as you grab a Soundgarden record from his pile.

“‘Course he is,” Ashton nods, “he’s sure we’re gonna the next Nirvana. Luke keeps telling him that grunge is dead, that rap is what’s in, but he’s determined.”

“Guess it’s a good thing,” you shrug as you reach for a copy of All Eyez, on Me, “but Luke’s sorta right. Rap’s in, can’t keep Pac, Eazy-E, or Snoop on shelves. Had a guy come in looking for an N.W.A album a few weeks ago. But, like, a lot of different styles of rock are in, I guess. Manson’s doing alright. Weezer, too. Sublime has had a good year. But, who knows? Maybe the twenty-first century will be good for four wannabe-punks.”

Ashton rolls his eyes as he nudges you with his elbow. “We’re not wannabe-punks,” he scoffs before he puffs out his chest exaggeratedly and grins, “we are punk rock.”

“Right,” you nod, “let the punk kid that works down the street hear you say that. Feel like he can take all of you by himself.”

Ashton laughs at your comment as he mutters something about you being right and the sound makes your heart skip a beat and the butterflies swirl in your stomach. There’s always been something about his laugh, even when the two of you were children, that made you desperate to hear more. You want to be the reason that that stupid, cheesy grin quirks his lips. You want to be the reason that he giggles so hard his cheeks flush brilliant pink. You want to be the reason that he smiles on the worst of days.

You want to make him happy.

You want to be his.

You’re not sure when you developed a crush on Ashton (or when you became the rom-com cliche you swore you’d never be) but it happened somewhere between graduating middle school and packing up your shit following your high school graduation to move across the globe with him. Los Angeles was his dream, music was his passion, and you promised the day that he joined his first cover band that you’d be right there beside him as he made it all happen.

You’ve never regretted that promise, never even come close, but you’ve always wondered what the past few years would’ve been like had you told him sooner. Maybe he would’ve left you back home, crossed an ocean to avoid your feelings, or maybe you’d be sharing the same bed instead of the same apartment and listening happily as he wrote love songs about you instead of some hot blonde he met at The Whisky.

But you try not to let yourself dwell on it because it’s okay. You know that he loves you. Not in the way that you love him, of that much you’re certain, but he loves you and that’s enough.

However, since you figured out your feelings and how deep they run, it’s been harder and harder to keep them from Ashton. You’ve never kept a secret from him, especially not one this large, and it makes your stomach churn with guilt every time you imagine a romantic future with him. He loves you, that’s enough, but he deserves to know that you love him.

“Hey, Ash?” you breathe, your voice shaking slightly as you fumble with a GWAR album, “Can I-“

Before you can finish your sentence, the ringing of the shop’s telephone interrupts you and Ashton grins. “I’ve got it,” he assures you happily, “finish shelving. I’ll be right back.” Before you can stop him, he’s bolted across the room to the telephone and is answering with, “Damn the man, save Atomic. How can I help you?”

“Ashton Irwin,” you shout, your voice lightening with amusement as you dart across the shop and reach for the phone, “give it!”

“It’s just Calum,” he laughs, not bothering to cover the receiver. You hear a shout of indignation from Calum’s end of the line before Ashton rolls his eyes and sighs, “I’m on my way, Cal. Was just helping close up Atomic. Yes, I know I don’t work here. She says fuck off. I’ll be there soon. We’re not doing another fucking Nirvana cover. Bye.”

You roll your eyes in amusement as you hear Ashton’s side of the conversation before you slap his shoulder when he hangs up the phone. “How did you know that was Cal? What if it was a customer? You can’t answer the phone like that!”

“Whatever,” he laughs, “you don’t care that much.” When you don’t argue, Ashton grins and tosses an arm over your shoulders. “Come on, walk me to the door so you can lock up. We don’t start playing until ten so you have time to go home and eat or change or whatever. If you do go home, can you grab my notebook? I wanna show the guys some of the stuff I’ve written.”

“Sure,” you nod as you flip the sign to ‘Closed’, “gonna grab Michael’s boots, too. Left them last week when he got drunk after we watched Empire Records.”

“Please,” Ashton sighs as he steps out of the shop and onto the sidewalk, “be careful! I’ll see you in an hour? If you’re not there, I’m coming to find you!”

You roll your eyes at Ashton’s words but nod as you lean against the propped open door. “Sure,” you laugh, “if I’m not there in an hour, it was the aliens. You’ll find me, though, won’t you, Scully?”

“Why am I Scully in this situation?” he questions as he turns and begins to walk backwards down the sidewalk. “Is it ‘cause I’m the hot one?”

“Excuse you, David Duchovny’s plenty hot,” you laugh, “but it’s ‘cause I’m in love with you and you haven’t noticed yet.” Ashton nearly trips over his feet as your words sink in. He pauses in place on the sidewalk and stares at you as you mutter, “Fuck, shit. Fuck.” As Ashton blinks at you, seemingly in shock, you quickly add, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. Shit, no, I did. I love you, I’m in love with you, but, like. It’s okay! You don’t have to love me. I mean, I know you love me, but, in the way that you love your sister, I guess. And that’s fine! I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just been on my mind and I felt guilty not telling you because we don’t have secrets but-“

You feel Ashton’s hand gently cover your mouth as he finally moves to stand in front of you. “Breathe,” he instructs, his eyes still wide and his cheeks impossibly pink, “just, take a deep breath.” He removes his hand from your mouth and nods encouragingly as you take a deep breath. As you focus on stopping the heaving of your chest, he blinks at you. “You’re in love with me?” he asks, wanting to clarify.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Again, totally okay if you don’t love me. You don’t have to! It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll, uh, move on or something. ’S’not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal!” he nearly shouts, his hands moving to drag through his messy curls. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. You loving me back is a really big deal!”

“I know it’s a big deal and I’m sorry I didn’t-“ as his words register, you pause and blink at him. “Wait, what?”

“I’ve been in love with you for ages,” he laughs, “loved you since you were my date to that dance in middle school.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cry as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against him. “We’ve wasted so much time!”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had. We’ve been so good for so long, just being us. And you can’t keep a secret. I thought you’d have told me by now if you were into me,” he informs you with a grin as he nudges you back into the shop. “I wouldn’t have asked just anyone to move halfway across the world with me. It’s always been you. I’ve always wanted you.”

“I wouldn’t have moved halfway across the world for just anyone,” you laugh. “I think I’ve known since middle school, too. I’ve known for sure since the day you asked me to come to L.A. with you. Anyone else, I would’ve called them crazy immediately. With you? I didn’t even have to think about it.”

Ashton’s grin grows wider as he scans your face. When he sees the love and adoration in your eyes, he can’t help the giggle that bubbles in his throat. “Fuck, I love you,” he laughs, “I love you so much. I never would’ve thought that you loved me back but I’m so glad you do.”

“I never would’ve thought you’d love me back,” you laugh, “but you do. And I love you. And we love each other.”

Ashton nods at your words and moves to wrap his arms around your waist once more. “We love each other,” he repeats happily, almost in a daze, “holy shit, we love each other. This is amazing.”

“It’d be even more amazing if the two of you were on your way to the fucking venue but, you know, priorities, I guess,” you hear a voice grumble from the shop door.

You glance over Ashton’s shoulder and roll your eyes at the sight of Luke, Calum, and Michael but your exasperation quickly turns into laughter as Luke and Michael slap Calum on the back of the head. “Way to ruin the moment, shithead,” Michael huffs before he turns his attention back to you and Ashton. “Sorry about him, pissed ‘cause we’re not doing Heart-Shaped Box again. Seriously, though, we need to get going. Hate to break it up, though. Glad you’re finally being honest with each other about how you feel! We will spray you both with water bottles like they do cats if you start going at it while we’re around, though.”

“Go,” you laugh as you untangle yourself from Ashton’s embrace. “I need to finish up here. ‘M gonna run home and then I’ll be there, front and center, for the show. Can’t miss my favorite band.”

“Oh, so it took Ash proclaiming his love for you to make us your favorite band? Rude,” Luke huffs, barely concealing a laugh before he gestures to the door. “We’ll see you at the venue!”

The boys step out onto the sidewalk to give you and Ashton a minute. “I’d apologize for them but you know how they are,” he laughs as he runs a hand through his hair. “So, I know we confessed our love and everything but I feel like I still need to ask. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course I will,” you nod, “wouldn’t want anything more. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he grins before he leans down to press a chaste, quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you in a bit! I love you, bye!”

And he’s out the door before you can truly register what happened. As you watch him and the boys rush down the sidewalk, you press your fingers to your lips and feel your cheeks heat. He loves you, just like you love him, and that’s more than okay.

It’s everything you ever could’ve wanted.

Author’s Note: So. My original idea was a greaser fic. Because Greaser!Ash makes me feel things. But then I started rewatching Empire Records and I decided, record store, vaguely 90s. Yes. So, please enjoy this vaguely 90s AU with the cutest boy. Also, I tried to drop a few 90s references but, like, I didn’t want it to be too much? Okay. Yeah. Bye!

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