Chapter Text
Ashe sat on his bed, music blasting in his headphones. His legs swung back and forth to the rhythm, fingers drumming on his legs. And finally, for the first time that day, he was able to sing along.
Not too loud, of course. But hell, he hadn’t had the chance to sing since Mark had showed up earlier with those other kids.
As he skipped through his playlist, the door slammed open. Shit . He wasn’t too loud, was he?
“You’re really good at singing!”
He pulled his headphones off, looking up at the short, red-haired boy in the doorway. “Are you in a band? You should be in a band! We should start a band!”
“Wh-” he began. He took a breath, preparing to berate him, when-
Fuck .
His binder was still on.
And he’d taken his hoodie off.
And now Dakota knew. He didn’t look the type to be transphobic, but it wasn’t good enough to base the prediction on looks alone.
“It- it’s two in the morning,” Ashe managed. “What are you-”
“I was going to say the same thing!” he declared.
“I-”
The boy crossed his arms, furrowing his brow. “You shouldn’t sleep in your binder, y’know.”
His head swam. He knew Dakota was… not the smartest, but he didn’t expect him to point it out .
“I slept in mine once ‘cause I was so tired,” he continued, “and it didn’t end well.”
Wait.
“Hold on, you wear a-”
Dakota grinned. “Yeah! You didn’t know?”
He only shook his head, speechless.
The boy’s smile widened. “Woah, I can pass better than I thought!”
Ashe chuckled, relaxing and letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“Alright! I’m gonna go now, and you’re gonna go change!”
“R-right,” he stammered, watching as Dakota left, closing the door behind him.
He did as Dakota had suggested, no, demanded, switching his binder out for a sports bra and oversized t-shirt. He flopped back onto his bed, resuming his music.
Only a few songs had passed when he started feeling lonely . Not the regular loneliness he felt from day to day, but something completely different. Like if he’d kept talking to Dakota, there was a tiny, miniscule chance that he could actually have a friend of some sort.
He let out a sigh, standing back up and leaving his headphones on the bed.
He padded into the hallway, walking through the living room and into the den. “Hey, Dakota?”
The boy was sitting up on his knees with his back to Ashe, arms crossed on the windowsill. His head rested on his arms, nose pressed against the cool glass. He didn’t look up.
“Dakota?”
“Yeah?” His voice was quiet, and he still didn’t move from his spot.
He held out his hand, clearing his throat. “You… you wanna hang out in my room?”
He beamed, turning to Ashe and taking his hand.
“Sure.”