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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, [b]"[color=ccb5e1]Fine, fine! Go be a successful adult already![/color]"[/b] 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. 

[b]"[color=ccb5e1]Got two job offers currently-- I [i]think[/i]. It's still a bit too early to read.[/color]"[/b] He settled back down onto the bed, placing his phone screen-up onto Winter's chest, [b]"[color=ccb5e1]One of 'em wants me modeling makeup, huh? Do you think I'd make a pretty drag queen?[/color]"[/b] 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 [i]twisted[/i] 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, [b]"[color=ccb5e1]Which offer do you think suits me best?[/color]"[/b]