dreamlikenewyork | "I get by with a little help from my friends..."

Who? Ainsley Ashwood and Clint Chevalier
What? Boy advice
When? Thursday, after school
Where? Clitty and Em's apartment

Ainsley had a weird way of thinking about things sometimes. He couldn't deny that. He chalked it up to being a teenage boy. But while Ange had been more than understanding and helpful with his whole crush on Harry situation, his thought processes were telling him that maybe asking a guy would be a better way to go... Preferably a guy in a relationship with another guy. And who better to ask, at least in his teenage mind, than Clitty? He could almost hear Ange protesting in his head, but he needed a guy's advice, and Clitty was like a brother to him, so it only made sense that he would go to him for big brotherly advice about crushy feelings.

He made his way to Clint and Emily's apartment and rang the buzzer, pounding on the door when Clitty didn't open up right away. "Clitty, it's me!" Ainsley yelled through the door. "Let me in! I know you're home!" He didn't really, but he might as well put on the false bravado for kicks and giggles.

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“I’m not pushing anything,” Ainsley protested, but he had to admit he wasn’t sure if he was or not. He certainly didn’t want to be. “And I’m not trying to go too fast with my feelings. I just want to get to know him better and see what happens. I know he may not have feelings for me like I do for him, and if he doesn’t, I’ll live with it, but there’s nothing wrong with trying, right? I mean, with going for it and talking to him and asking him out and all that stuff?” He paused, nodding his agreement with that. “He’s dealt with teenagers being cunts. I don’t think he’s a cunt himself at all. He’s been made fun of for being gay a lot by people he thought were friends. I know I can be annoying, though. It wouldn’t even really be being a cunt if he thought I was. It would just kind of be true. Even Ange says I’m annoying sometimes, and she’s not a cunt at all.” Clint had been one of the first people Ainsley told when he lost his virginity, and Ange had been sure that Ainsley knew he didn’t have to fuck as many people as Clitty. “I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “He had a boyfriend before. I know that doesn’t mean he’s had sex, but he’s dated someone. And he’s gay.”

“I never said I didn’t jerk off over him,” Ainsley replied, shaking his head. “I just hadn’t thought as far as him dancing in tights, but now I have…” and as if to emphasize that point, he got a dreamy, faraway look in his eye for just a moment before coming back down to earth. “I don’t have a death wish. I just really like him. Dude, you’re like my big brother. And you have a boyfriend.”

Maybe it was the lack of coffee and lack of orgasm, but Clint looked at Ainsley with a small frown and a shake of his head. "You're an argumentative little shit when you want to be. 'I'm not doing this!' 'I never said that!' 'I know this!' 'I know that!' If you know, why the hell are you here? Do you want my fucking advice or not? If all you did was come here to listen and then argue against everything I'm saying, seriously, go to Renz because this is not my area of expertise. If you're crippled in how to talk to another kid and get to know them, then hook up with a therapist, because that's real clinical shit and definitely out of my skill area. When I was your age, I was slashing tyres, fucking teachers, and punching jocks in the face for the hell of it. You're not trying to go too fast with your feelings but already plotting on asking him out? Kid, fucking stop and listen to yourself."

He gave a huffy sigh of frustration and was aggressively stirring the sugar into his coffee. He took the spoon out and tossed it in the sink, taking a long sip before speaking again. "So what? You're not taking on anything I'm saying. I could be your fucking father right now, and what I say would be pointless because I'm not saying what you wanna hear. So, stand there and get it off your chest. I'll zone out and think of cock while you answer your own questions. I'm going outside for a smoke, so follow or discuss your teen angst with the fridge. You might like its answers better than mine."

"Sorry," Ainsley said, embarrassed. He had been arguing everything that Clitty said, and he hadn't meant to be. "I do want your advice, Clitty. I dunno. I never wanted to go on real dates with a guy before." He shrugged, irritated at himself for arguing with Clint when his whole reason for coming here had been to listen to him, not to argue. "I know. I don't mean that I don't know how to make friends. I do know that. I just don't know how to date. And you were probably the least likely person ever to date, and you figured it out, so I figured you'd have good advice. That's all." He paused, and arched an eyebrow as he looked at Clint. "Wait... You fucked teachers? How the fuck did you..." He paused, shaking his head. That was not the topic of conversation that he'd come to talk about.

Ainsley followed Clint outside and leaned back against the side of the building as he watched Clint light up a cigarette. Ange would kill Ains if he ever started smoking, and it definitely wouldn't be good for his physical health when he went on to the police academy after school. But he had to admit he'd always been curious about it if only because Clitty made it look so fucking cool. Only the smell was gross, and he liked being able to breathe well, so he'd avoid it. That and not wanting Ange to murder him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a twat," Ainsley told Clint.

Clint sat down and lit up a cigarette. He took a long drag from it and then held the cigarette over the balcony between his fingers so the smoke would blow away from Ainsley in the breeze. "You gotta know he even wants to date first, before figuring out if he wants to date you. Not every kid wants to date. He might just want fuck buddies or someone to hang out with and share fart jokes with. You can't fucking know how to date anyone until you know them first. Everyone's different." He knew some incredible couples who had worked their relationship around many hardships, but it all boiled down to having a significant connection that they wanted to build on. That was the traditional way to go about dating someone, and Clint hadn't started his relationship traditionally in any way, shape or form.

"You gotta connect with someone to build on it. There's not gonna be a connection if it's all one-sided. Connection means two people fucking joining together on mutual ground. It doesn't fucking matter what that mutual ground is, because it's different for everyone. You gotta find that before you even start thinking about dating him or you're gonna fuck it all up and piss him off. You go in like a fucking bitch on heat, what about that is he gonna care about finding a connection with?" he reasoned with a shrug.

"I get by with a little help from my friends..."

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