[With Ash's eyes closed, he allows something of a cynical smile. Neither the real Ash, nor the Ash he thought of when trying to predict him, were particularly forward enough to call suitors. Neither had anything to earn, or to prove.
It was at least in part because Blanca himself spared few pains to let Ash know, often with flamboyance that would make Cirque de Soliel blush, has was especially smitten. If anything, it was so overstated that any doubt would merely be that some of it was empty theater, but he liked to think he 'put out' in more than words well enough when the time came.
Even if he can't seem to do much more than talk now. The bath is Ash's own, and drawing it, putting out a bit of oil, some salts in the bath to soothe without risking anything that could react with his injuries, but it's not quite 'the dawn aurora live in the skies off the coast of Ash's ancestral homeland.' No, not even with the salad.
Either way, that Ash considers himself even vaguely in a category of those who have an errant little crush or two on an attractive, competent older man, with no real regard for him other than being a stage onto which to project their own ideals, is amusing. Even if said with a hint of sarcasm.
They're not exclusive. Nothing has or will stop Blanca from humoring them if it suits them. He has always been an obliging sort. But there's no obligation, to Ash.]
no subject
It was at least in part because Blanca himself spared few pains to let Ash know, often with flamboyance that would make Cirque de Soliel blush, has was especially smitten. If anything, it was so overstated that any doubt would merely be that some of it was empty theater, but he liked to think he 'put out' in more than words well enough when the time came.
Even if he can't seem to do much more than talk now. The bath is Ash's own, and drawing it, putting out a bit of oil, some salts in the bath to soothe without risking anything that could react with his injuries, but it's not quite 'the dawn aurora live in the skies off the coast of Ash's ancestral homeland.' No, not even with the salad.
Either way, that Ash considers himself even vaguely in a category of those who have an errant little crush or two on an attractive, competent older man, with no real regard for him other than being a stage onto which to project their own ideals, is amusing. Even if said with a hint of sarcasm.
They're not exclusive. Nothing has or will stop Blanca from humoring them if it suits them. He has always been an obliging sort. But there's no obligation, to Ash.]
"Other", is it?