dog days ━ scotty valens x male!oc!

1

//this fic is set in the Cold Case universe.

Chapter One:

Asher fidgets with the cuffs of his burgundy hoodie. It's old and worn out, but it's comfy. He nervously sucks in his bottom lip, teeth biting over the already abused flesh there. He flickers his gaze to his right and the woman beside him smiles down at him reassuringly. She's nice. Well, at least for now. She's dressed in prim and proper clothing and smells oddly like old books mixed in with peppermint. Asher rubs a hand under his nose and lowers his gaze down to his beat up, off brand converse.

The woman, Aleja, as she had introduced herself, knocks on the door in front of them. It's around four in the morning, the air is cold and biting and whenever Asher breathes out languidly, his breath swirls in front of his face like smoke.

The door creaks open and Asher raises his gaze to find a male. He looks wide awake, alert. "Aleja?" He asks, tilting his head in confusion. His voice is slightly low and it sounds pleasant to Ashers ears, so much actually that it sends a shiver running down his spine.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I Scotty?" Aleja asks, raising a thin brow. She gives a small smile, like the one an old friend would give and holds the files in her arms closer to her chest.

"No," Scotty says. "I just got back from work," he explains. He shifts his gaze from Aleja down to Asher, his coal like eyes accessing the younger male. Asher immediately drops his gaze. He's not allowed to look people in the eyes. He shifts, fiddling with the laces of his hoodie. There's the scent of something flowery in the air and it's making the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.

"Is this another one of your... cases?" Scotty asks, moving his gaze back to Aleja.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Aleja answers.

With a hum, Scotty motions for them to follow him inside. Aleja sends Asher another reassuring smile and he gulps, shuffling in after the woman. He closes the door behind him, eyes taking in the hallway. The apartment walls are painted white and it all looks basic. There are a few pictures hung up, but Asher doesn't pay them much attention. He's too busy rubbing his hand under his nose because of the intense flowery smell that hits him almost immediately. It's mixed in with the scent of coffee and something, something else entirely. It's completely throwing Asher off.

"Here," Scotty murmurs, pressing the palm of his hand against the small of Asher's back. He notices the way the younger male stiffens at the contact, breath audibly hitching, muscles tensing and shoulders hunching until they're pressing against his pale cheeks. Scotty leads him towards the living room. "You can wait in there, the TV's on so feel free to watch."

Asher jerks away from Scotty, giving a curt nod. He steps into the living room and eyes the decor as Scotty leaves to go back to Aleja. His heart is thumping against his rib cage and his senses are running into overdrive. He's not... okay with being touched by strangers. Shaking his head, Asher tries not to think about it. Instead he roams his eyes all over the room. There's a nice, plush sofa and a large TV mounted on the wall. A small coffee table sits in front of the sofa. It's covered in thick wads of papers, two brown boxes sit at the edge, the bottom one closed and the top one opened. Asher spots the cardboard lid on the sofa. The floor is covered in a fluffy, dark carpet and the drapes are closed over the windows.

Twisting his fingers around each other, Asher awkwardly stands at the front of the room. Should he sit on the sofa? No, he's not allowed to. He carefully treads inside the room. Slinging his backpack from his shoulders, Asher sits down onto the fluffy carpet and places his bag onto his lap. He blinks up at the TV, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as he watches some show.

He tries not to listen in on Aleja's conversation with Scotty. They seem to be in the Kitchen because when Asher strains his ears he can hear the sound of Aleja swirling her spoon around her cup of whatever beverage she's having. Sniffing the air, Asher smells some sort of herbal tea. Burying his chin into his backpack, he realises other than the occasional sound of Scotty moving around the kitchen or Aleja scribbling something onto a piece of paper, there isn't anything else. Aren't those two supposed to talk to each other?

After awhile of watching TV, and realising that Ross and Rachel are both idiots, Asher comes to the conclusion that Scotty and Aleja are talking. Just not with their mouths, but by writing on paper. He feels sort of cheated. Pulling on the laces of his hoodie, Asher feels his stomach drop. What were they saying? It was making him anxious not knowing.

"Asher." Aleja calling his name makes him jump. He swiftly turns his gaze towards the entrance of the living room where Aleja is standing. She gives him a smile. "C'mon," She says, motioning for him to follow.

Asher hurries to stand. He slings his backpack over one shoulder and follows after the female. They make it back down the hallway and then turn into the small kitchen. Scotty is leaned against the cabinets, his coal like eyes looking over some file. The moment Aleja and Asher step into the room, he raises his gaze up to them and flips the file closed. He settles it on the edge of the table he has nearby.

Aleja clears her throat and grabs her handbag. She pulls it over one shoulder, smooths out the wrinkles in her suit jacket and gives Asher a smile he knows all too well. It's not the reassuring one, or the kind one, it's a pitying one. Asher feels his chest tighten. Did she make a deal with Scotty? Did she sell him like the others before her? Was she going to leave him here and never come back? He thought she was better, nicer.

"Scotty's going to take care of you from now on," Aleja explains. "He's my younger cousin, so you don't have to be afraid of him."

Asher forces himself to nod, gaze glued to his converse. He tightens his hold on the strap of his backpack, knuckles turning even paler. He's not angry, he's just scared. Asher had spent less than a day with Aleja and honestly, he should have seen this coming. People were always trying to get rid of him for one reason or another. Usually after a week or two, sometimes after day and occasionally after a few hours.

Just like Aleja.

"You can always send me a message if you want to," Aleja softens her tone. "And I'll stop by every now and then."

Asher nods, not even sparing the female a glance. Instead he pulls on one of the laces of his burgundy hoodie. He feels awkward. What is he supposed to do? Thank her? For what? That she bought him from someone else and now she was passing him along? Asher bites into the sensitive flesh of his bottom lip. It's not like he can talk either, he's mute.

"Alright, I'm off." Aleja pulls her handbag closer to her side. "Goodnight."

"Night," Scotty utters, raising a hand in a wave.

Aleja disappears out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Asher listens to the constant click of her short heels and then the sound of the front door opening and shutting closed.

The silence afterwards is booming. There's just the sound of Scotty's breathing and Ashers own heartbeat drumming in his ears, but it's loud. His mind races. What's going to happen now? Is Scotty going to do something to him? Will he hurt him? Swear at him? Hit him like the others? Ashers hands shake.

"Are you hungry, Asher?" Scotty asks quietly.

Asher raises his gaze to stare at Scotty, brows furrowed in confusion. He avoids looking him in the eyes, instead opting to stare at the others shoulders. Why was Scotty asking if he was hungry? No one ever bothered with that. Usually people would give him leftovers. Sometimes not even that. He was used to it.

Hesitating, Asher twists his fingers around each other. He is hungry, but he's not sure how much he can stomach. He nods, unsure about the situation.

Scotty smiles, it's small but genuine. Asher has long learned to tell the difference between smiles.

"All I have is cup noodles. You okay with that?" Scotty leans off the counter, pulling the sleeves of his white button up further up his arms, until the edges are rolled up at his elbows.

Averting his gaze, Asher nods once more. Cup noodles didn't sound bad.

1499 words//unedited