#good timing too bc serialization is starting again after her hiatus!!

[xoxo-iska]

i’ve been reading my boyfriend in orange by non tamashima and found out the author married an actual fireman (her own boyfriend in orange!!) after getting to know him during her research for the manga and if that isn’t the triumph of shojo manga romance idk what is

[sleepy--cal]

hitched pt.1 | ashton

word count | 7.6k  →  fake dating, tinder, romcom au

synopsis | Ashton lies about having a plus-one for Michael’s wedding, sending his friends into an excited frenzy, and him? Scrambling to make those lies come true.

a/n | i’ve never written anything for the 5sos community before so here is my hello :3 Warning: excessive swearing bc the author has a potty mouth

★

When Ashton thought about it way back when, he really thought he’d be the first to settle down. To tie the knot. To get hitched.

But the first 5SOS wedding is coming up in August and it’s not his. It’s Michael’s - as in feet-on-the-table, milk-mustache-wearing, fortnite-until-dawn-playin’, doesn’t-wake-up-until-2pm, stray-cat-lookin’ ass Michael.

Luke has his plus-one. Sierra. Even Calum’s weekends have been spent chasing after this girl that Ashton has yet to be introduced to. Yet here he himself is at 2 months shy of 25 years of age, and he’s so fucking single he’s pretty sure he and Virgin Mary could be featured side-by-side on an expert level of a spot-the-difference game.

In fact, the last time a female even stepped foot into his mancave of an apartment was before he’d broken it off with his ex-girlfriend over a year ago. And when his ex had moved out, she’d brought all of her stuff with her and when Ashton says ‘all of her stuff’, he means all of her stuff. There’s no longer a toaster oven in his kitchen, only a microwave that he uses to heat up pizza pockets and poptarts. There are no bowls to eat from because he eats his food straight off his only pot like an 18th century caveman. There’s a lacy bra hanging off the doorknob to his bathroom but even that was a gag gift from Calum for Christmas two years ago. It’s fucking sad.

So Ashton doesn’t think it’s his fault, okay, when his phone pings and he comes face to face with the link to RSVP to Michael and Crystal’s destination wedding and the first question that comes up is “Do you have a plus one?”

Ashton scoffs.

He doesn’t know what it is - either the internalized compulsive need to one-up his friends or you know, casual demonic possession but he physically cannot control his goddamn thumb as he checkmarks the little “yes!” next to the question from hell. The panic doesn’t settle in for a little bit, even when he’s staring blankly at the ‘thank you for your response!’ message that pops up after he submits the form.

It’s only when he picks up the phone to an ecstatic Michael less than a full minute since he indicated he wanted steak instead of fish for the wedding dinner that he well and truly has his ‘oh shit’ moment.

And of course, when one person in the band knows something, everyone fucking knows. Which is how he finds himself stuck in a 4-way facetime call with every single 5SOS member and their dogs.

He can see all of Luke’s pores from how close his face is to the screen.

Everyone speaks all at once.

“Ash you’re what?!”

“Mate, why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

“I seriously had to find out from you RSVP-ing to my fucking wedding?!”

Ashton winces as he pulls his phone further from his face. “Guys it’s not that big of a deal.”

Michael scoffs at the same time Calum screams. “Not that big of a deal?! Dude!”

“What’s her name?” Luke demands like he’s asking for tonight’s weather forecast and not the name of Ashton’s fake fucking girlfriend.

“Chernobyl,” Ashton says. What the fuck.

“Chernobyl?” Luke repeats, his nose scrunching up in deep thought.

“Isn’t that the name of the nuclear power plant that-”

“It was a joke!” Ashton snaps, cutting Michael off. “I was kidding. It’s an inside joke between us.�� He bullshits. “Um-”

“Aw, you two have inside jokes already!” Luke coos instead. Calum falls for it immediately, cooing alongside Luke and if Ashton’s ego wasn’t so big, he would’ve hung up the call already.

“So what is her name then?” Michael probes curiously. Ashton wants to kill Michael.

“Uh,” Ashton says intellectually. Favourite cartoon character. His grandmother’s name. The name of his childhood stuffie. The street he used to live on?? Ah, his neighbour’s cat! “April! I- yeah, it’s April.”

“Aww! Ashton!” Calum says dreamily like he’s Ashton’s mom finding out about his girlfriend and not his punk rock band member.

“She’s twenty-two,” Ashton’s fat mouth adds unnecessarily, because apparently, Ashton Fletcher Irwin is a closeted masochist and likes his grave deeper than most.

★

When management had approved of the band’s 6-month hiatus in preparation for Mikey’s wedding, Ashton never imagined he’d be spending it alone on his living room floor downloading Tinder.

But as he watches the progress bar slowly fill with green, it dawns on him that this is probably the worst decision he’s ever made in his entire life and that he should probably get psychologically evaluated for compulsive lying.

He isn’t even sure if Tinder is the right app for this, because he’s not looking for a hookup. He’s looking for a very specific 22-year old April who happens to live in Los Angeles, is open to sharing a fake inside joke with him about the tragic 1986 Chernobyl disaster, and won’t think he’s a serial killer when he asks on the first date if they want to accompany him on an 11-hour flight to Bora Bora as his plus one for his best friend’s destination wedding.

Ashton groans, falling backwards onto the carpeted floor. “Fuuuuuuck.”

The only thing that answers him is the mocking ping from his phone telling him the download is complete.

The carpet is rough under his cheek as he turns to grab at his phone, the ‘Let’s get started!’ page of the app staring innocently back at him.

It’s afternoons like these that makes Ashton wish he wasn’t such an insufferable idiot.

In no time at all, Ashton has his profile set up - his name (just Fletcher), age (24), and a couple of long-distance unrecognizable shots of himself because there’s no way in hell the tabloids are about to catch him on Tinder.

He spends the next 30 seconds swiping right furiously on every single girl that pops up because Michael’s wedding is in four months and the fitting for the groomsmen suits are tomorrow and he seriously has no time to be picky right now. He literally needs his 22-year old April yesterday.

He’s about to max out on his swiping limit for the day when a loud knock on his door startles him out of his thoughts. From his spot on the floor, he peers around the corner at the front door and when the lock doesn’t jiggle after another ten seconds, he groans and gets up to see which one of his not-bandmates have decided to show up unannounced.

When the door swings open, Lauren is staring at him from the other side with a giant luggage behind her and a raised eyebrow.

“Lauren!” He greets enthusiastically without missing a beat.

She rolls her eyes at him anyway and pushes her way past him and into the apartment. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“I did not. I even have a poptart in the microwave for you.” He insists as the front door swings shut with a bang.

Yeah... he should really get tested for compulsive lying.

“Here, let me grab that for you,” Ashton says, hauling the gigantic suitcase Lauren had brought with her, ignoring her sarcastic as you should! as he goes off to dump it somewhere in his room. While there, he shoves his dirty clothes underneath the bed and smooths out the bed sheets so Ashton can at least pretend that he’s somewhat gotten his act together since Lauren had last visited.

When he reemerges, Lauren is relaxing on the couch with a poptart in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Lauren!” He roars as he does a running dive over the back of the couch. Lauren shrieks as she drops the poptart and stumbles to the floor, carrying the weight of her brother on her back as she tries to keep the phone out of his reach. “What did I tell you about touching my things?!”

“I see Tinder, Ash!” She screams back, knocking the cushions off the couch as she shoves a sharp elbow into his cheek. “I have to tell mom!”

“Like hell you will!” He shouts as he makes a grab for the wrist holding his phone hostage. “Give me my phone back!”

“Screw off!”

“I made you a poptart!”

“So?!” Lauren retorts. “I-”

They both freeze at the sound of a loud ping. Ashton can only watch helplessly as Lauren’s eyes dart to the phone in her hands, her expression going from angry cat to sparkly eyed in two seconds flat. “You have a match!” She squeals.

“What?”

Ashton takes advantage of the distraction to snatch his phone back. Immediately, Lauren is peering over his shoulder as he swipes on the notification, watching as the words ‘It’s a Match!’ displays itself on the screen.

Underneath the words are two circular pictures - one is of the blurry ass photo of himself that he’d chosen and the other is a photo of a pretty brunette beaming shyly at the camera from behind a teacup.

‘You and Luna have liked each other!’ Tinder informs him.

Lauren shrieking into his ear is probably the single loudest thing he’s ever heard in his life, and as the drummer of a band, that’s saying something.

“She’s pretty!” Lauren squeals. Two seconds later, she mellows down as she clears her throat and punches him hard in the shoulder. “I guess you have pretty good taste. Proud of ya, Ash.” She grins.

Ashton doesn’t know how to tell her about his blind and desperate swiping spree that he went on seconds before she showed up at his doorstep, or about why he’s even on Tinder in the first place so he doesn’t and just lets CompulsiveLiar!Ashton strike again. “Thanks Laurie. Her bio’s what really got me.” He says.

He has no freaking idea what Luna’s bio says.

“Let me stalk!” Lauren exclaims and snatches his phone back before he can say anything and because Ashton can’t help but admit he’s a little curious too, the pair of them huddle on the couch together, looking at Ashton’s phone like it holds the answers to the future, which, for Ashton, it seriously might, just not in the way his sister might be thinking.

“Luna, twenty-two years old,” Lauren reads aloud. Ashton’s eyebrows shoot up at her perfect age. She scrolls further down. “Hey, she went to UCLA! I wonder if I’ve passed her on campus before.”

“Majored in developmental psychology,” Ashton reads next. “Holy shit.”

Lauren glances at him suspiciously. “I thought you’ve read all of this before.”

“I have!” Ashton says defensively. “I’m just doing a dramatic reading for your sake.”

“God, please don’t.”

They spend the next half hour combing through every bit of Luna’s bio, from the three photos she has of herself and one of her dalmatian to her biography that simply reads ‘wine and pizza and I’m all yours! Protip: +25 bonus points if you have a dog. +75 bonus points if I get to meet ‘em.’

“Borrow Luke’s dog! You have to!” Lauren begs.

“I can’t borrow Petunia!”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t! Luke might ask questions.”

Lauren squints at him. “Are you embarrassed that you’re pimping yourself out on Tinder?”

Ashton snorts and crosses his arms. “First of all, I’m not pimping myself out. Second of all, no.”

“Just tell him it’s for me then,” Lauren urges, nudging his shoulder. “Tell him I’m trying to impress my Tinder date with a cute puppy and that I’d feel safer going if Petunia was with me.”

Ashton thinks about it for a moment. Luke does have a soft spot for Lauren after all, considering the fact that Luke had always wanted a younger sibling but ended up being the baby himself in both his own family and the band, which, in Ashton’s opinion, fucking hilarious but Lauren did have a point. There’s no way Luke would say no to Lauren and her safety on a random ass Tinder date in the middle of downtown Los Angeles.

Plus, he really needs this whole Tinder shit to work out. For Mikey’s wedding. And if he gets +100 bonus points for showing off a dog that isn’t even his? Sign him the hell up.

“Okay, well, I can see your thinking face.” Lauren says nonchalantly. “So while you text Luke about Petunia, I did you the favour of sending your first message to Luna.”

Ashton chokes on his spit. “You what?!”

The sound that Lauren makes when Ashton throws himself on top of her to grab his phone back is inhuman. But the sound that Ashton makes when he sees the message is worse.

I’m told I remind people of a puppy. If you get to meet both me and my dog over pizza and wine, do I get double the bonus points? 🐶

★

His neighbour’s goddamn cat is staring at him when he wakes up to drink coffee on the balcony the next morning.

“April,” Ashton greets slowly as a warning. Previous first-hand experience has told him that the stupid orange cat did not give two shits about piping hot coffee and would lunge at him for the cup if Ashton so much as blows the steam in her general direction.

As a safety precaution, he moves a little farther away because he’s not sure if his sore neck can take a hit from the crazy cat if she lunges, especially since he was forced to fit his 6 foot long body on his two-seater couch last night, Lauren having taken over his bedroom for her beauty sleep as soon as it hit 10 o’clock.

That, and, uh, the fact that Luna had messaged him back less than five minutes after Lauren had ditched his ass in the living room and left him to his own devices. How was he supposed to continue a conversation he didn’t even start?

And seriously? If anyone in the band was the most puppy, it was Calum. What’s he supposed to do? Bring Calum too and get triple the bonus points?

Thankfully, Luna seemed to think Lauren’s bullshit was cute, replying with a “oh, definitely! 😂 guess I’ll have to double the amount of puppy treats on me”, teasingly followed a minute later by a “what breed of doggos will Oreo and I have the honour of meeting?”

And that was precisely what had kept Ashton up all night.

If you look at Ashton’s most recent search history, you’d find the following: Most popular breed of dog Most popular dog breed in Bora Bora Best looking dog breeds Most popular breed of dog for girls Golden retrievers German shepherds Golden retrievers vs German shepherds

Ashton sighs as he sips on his coffee. In the end, he’d narrowed himself down to either a golden retriever or a german shepherd, not because he thought he resembled either of those two breeds at all but more the fact that both seemed to be the most popular dogs with the ladies (in general, not in Bora Bora because that one yielded zero search results when he tried). But before he could decide which one, he’d finally passed out on the couch last night close to 4am in the morning.

A loud meow comes from his right.

“What?” Ashton asks grumpily as he looks over at April. She’s staring back at him with a stinky look on her face.

Then, he gets an idea.

“Hey April,” He calls out. “Meow once for golden retriever and twice for german shepherd.”

The bitch meows three times.

★

Lauren is laughing so hard, she has to bang her fist on the kitchen table multiple times to control herself. “Golden retriever german shepherd mix?!”

“Stop laughing!” Ashton hisses. “Eat your pancakes!”

“You mean the pancakes that I made?”

Ashton pauses. “Drink your coffee!”

Lauren’s still laughing. “I can’t believe you said a mix! Now she definitely knows you spent all night thinking about it.”

You left me out to die last night!” Ashton accuses, pointing a finger at her. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You replied this morning anyway! You could’ve waited for me to wake up.”

Ashton’s mouth opens and closes a couple times but nothing comes out. So he changes the subject because he’s mature like that. “I have to get ready for the fitting.”

Lauren snickers. “Sure.”

Calum and Luke swings his front door open right as Ashton emerges from his bedroom shamelessly in a 5sos tour hoodie and black jeans. They both give him a once-over, both looking confused.

“I thought we were going to get fitted for suits?” Luke says, eyebrows scrunched together. “Or is there a band gig tonight that I don’t know about?”

“A band gig,” Calum replies seriously. “At the wedding boutique. I thought you knew! If we perform for the boutique staff, Mikey gets a 30% discount.”

“Budgetsos,” Ashton butts in.

They finally notice Lauren when she snorts from the kitchen counter.

“Laurie!” Luke beams as the both of them go over to bear hug her and inspect what she’s eating. They don’t question why she’s eating pancakes out of a pot. Lauren offers some of her food and Calum takes it immediately, chomping over her fork for the bite. Luke takes her coffee instead.

“So you arrived here last night and you didn’t even ask us to come hang out? I thought we were friends,” Calum pouts, helping Lauren clean out her plate even though she didn’t ask. He looks like a puppy begging for scraps. “And I’m like 300% sure we make better company than Ash.”

“Hey!”

Before Ashton can say anything else, Lauren is looking over at him mischievously. “Sorry,” She snickers. “I couldn’t. Ashton and I were too busy last night setting up a daaaaaate for him.” She drags out.

Ashton chokes on his coffee. Holy fucking shit.

Luke turns to her immediately with a gleam in his eyes. “So you’ve met April?!”

“Yes!” Ashton interrupts loudly between coughs, voice raspy from the coffee in his goddamn airway. He ignores Lauren’s face that goes from evil to confused in two seconds flat. “Lauren’s met April! They both, uh, seriously love dogs and that’s all they could talk about I couldn’t get them to shut up, like at all.”

“No fucking way! Is she here?!” Calum asks, eyes wide and head whipping around in both directions so fast his curly hair looks like it’s taking flight. “Where?! Is she in your room? I want to meet her!” He asks, already sprinting into Ashton’s bedroom before he’s even finished his sentence.

“She’s not there!” Ashton hisses, running after him. “She left this morning! She had, like, you know... work! It’s a Tuesday.”

Calum visibly deflates and Ashton almost feels bad for a minute before he remembers that he can’t introduce Calum to anyone anyway, because he doesn’t actually have anyone.

Luke bounds over next, immediately taking notice of the odd state of his room - Lauren’s open suitcase at the foot of his bed, a fuzzy purple towel thrown over his bathroom door. Luke picks up a random bottle of face cream out of the many that are lying on his bed covers. “This looks like Lauren’s stuff. Didn’t your girl stay over last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton stutters, pulling an excuse out of his ass. “Yeah, they ended up having like… a girls night?”

Calum snickers. “So you got banished to the sofa?”

“Chicks before dicks!” Lauren shouts from somewhere in the kitchen.

Luke pats Ashton on the shoulder sympathetically but Ashton doesn’t feel any less shitty. There’s absolutely no way Lauren doesn’t know he’s lying now. He sighs. “Come on, guys, I have to change into better clothes. Can’t let you guys one-up me.”

“We’ll wait for you outside!” Luke waves as Calum shuts the bedroom door behind him.

When Ashton reemerges from his bedroom in a button-up and slacks this time, Luke and Calum are listening intently at whatever’s coming out of Lauren’s mouth. Ashton manages to catch the tail end of what she’s saying, something to do with hawaiian pizza and rosé wine.

“Yeah, they’re totally in love,” Lauren smiles. Luke’s smile is even wider than Lauren’s. Calum looks like he’s ready to take notes. “Kind of weird to watch my brother act all lovey-dovey in front of me, but I guess it’s kind of sweet. I can really tell she’s the one, you know?”

On their way out, Lauren pulls Ashton aside with a smile that’s way too wide and whispers, “You owe me an explanation when you get back and also your life.”

★

They make it to Rosie’s Bridal Boutique after 45 minutes stuck in traffic. It’s located in a cute little yellow brick building in the middle of the suburbs surrounded by more greenery than Ashton’s ever seen in his life. On the way there, he manages to evade Luke and Calum’s curiosity by blasting All Time Low at a ridiculous volume with the windows rolled down, letting the violent wind and the voice of Alex Gaskarth constantly try and outdo each other.

Unfortunately, Ashton knows he can’t evade shit for long as they pull up to the boutique and see Michael’s beaming face plastered to the window from the second story of the building.

“Mikey!” Calum greets as soon as the elevator door opens, bounding in like a puppy (Ashton will never stop saying that because it’s true goddammit) to drape himself all over the husband-to-be.

Michael’s already in a little bow tie and a black suit that’s getting wrinklier by the second, no thanks to Calum. He does a little wave despite the weight on his arm, “Hey guys!”

“Shut up,” Luke says as he pulls Michael in almost violently for a hug. “You’re gonna pull a ‘hey guys’ on us when we’re about to be your groomsmen?”

“Best man!” Calum shouts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Luke threatens again, voice muffled from where its pressed into Michael’s shoulder. “Get in here,” He complains to Ashton who willingly obliges and throws himself into the man pile.

The boutique staff giggle at them from where they’re standing around the room holding various pieces of Michael’s suit.

Ashton’s about to crack a joke about how Crystal’s going to be blown away by seeing Michael go from boxers filled with holes to a 4-piece suit when he swears his phone pings louder than the combined pings from the phones of Lauren and all her friends during a girls sleepover.

It’s suddenly awkward. For Ashton. Just Ashton.

Ashton knows it’s coming, but he still flinches when Michael asks, “Is that April?!”

“According to Lauren, they were being lovey-dovey last night,” Calum swoons teasingly.

“And she staaaaaayed the night,” Luke drags out.

Ashton wants to murder all of them.

Michael whistles. “You know it’s serious when the sister and the girlfriend meet.”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Ashton complains. “We’re getting suits fitted for Michael’s wedding, guys. Be a little respectful.”

“Michael literally started this conversation,” Luke points out.

“Can I just try on my suit now please?” He says unnecessarily loudly.

Immediately, the boutique staff jump into action, pulling suits protected by plastic bags seemingly out of nowhere and ushering Ashton into an open changing room where a lady comes over with bright green measuring tape. The other boys grumble at the change in topic but oblige, spreading out and opening their arms to let the staff take their measurements.

“So I was thinking either a classic all-black colour scheme for the boys,” Michael says, tapping his chin. “Or a fancy navy blue instead. My handsome self in a full suit and you guys in suspenders. That would be hot. What do you guys think?”

“Did Crystal say anything about what she wanted?” Luke asks as he’s examining the suit they’d brought over to him.

“Nope,” Michael replies, pulling on his bowtie. “Said you guys were all mine.”

“Awww,” Calum says jokingly, grinning over the shoulder of the staff person attending to him. “That’s so sweet, Mikey. I love you too.”

Ashton snorts. “Don’t go cheating on your girl with Michael, you homewrecker.”

“Oh, yeah!” Calum exclaims, suddenly perking up. Ashton has a bad feeling in his stomach. “You haven’t met my girl yet, have you?”

“Uh, no,” Ashton replies, unsure. “Not yet.”

The smile that grows instantaneously on Calum’s face almost blinds him. “And I haven’t met April yet! So you, me, our girls! Double date, tomorrow night! You can’t say no Ash, I know you don’t have anything to do tomorrow and you’re the only one that hasn’t met her yet.”

Fuck. “Fuck!” Ashton says, laughing nervously. “I wish I could man, but I have to take care of Lauren.”

Michael snorts from where he’s lounging on the couch. “Lauren’s an adult now. Stop being overprotective. You’re probably smothering her with your axe body spray and protein shakes anyway. I bet she’s gonna go on a date herself as soon as you’re gone.”

“If you’re so worried, she can always come over and hang with me and Sierra,” Luke shrugs. “Sierra’s been talking non-stop about those sugar cookies Lauren gave us last time. And Petunia loves her, seriously.”

Ashton panics. “Well definitely not tomorrow!” Because who the fuck is he gonna show up with? Their PR manager? “Uh, what about like, next week? Or next next next next week?”

Calum ignores the second part of his sentence entirely. “Next week then!” He exclaims excitedly.

Fuck!

“I’m going to try this thing on,” Ashton says quickly, grabbing the suit closest to him before he’s all but throwing the curtain closed. As soon as he’s alone, he throws the suit aside and then can’t dig his phone out of his pocket fast enough. When he presses the home button, it shows he has one message from Tinder, from Luna. He opens it hastily.

So according to Google, you’re intelligent, athletic, playful, affectionate, and loyal? 🐶😂 Sounds almost too good to be true.

‘So let me prove it to you! May Petunia and I take you and Oreo out on a brunch date this weekend, my lady?’ He types back quickly, adding ‘my lady’ to hopefully charm the pants off her. He hopes it isn’t too soon for that. Petunia isn’t even his freaking dog.

He’s so busy chanting please say yes over and over again in his head while clutching onto his phone that it startles him when his phone pings loudly again.

Luke, Michael, and Calum start hollering from outside.

Sounds great! 😊 I’m free Saturday. Where to?

★

As soon as Luke drops him off back home, he runs up six flights of stairs back up to his apartment because if he has to wait more than ten seconds for the slow ass elevator, he’s going to lose his mind.

He scares Lauren off the couch when he barges through the front door screaming her name.

“I have a date on Saturday!” Ashton whispers through his heavy breathing, wide-eyed and sounding both smug and scared at the same time because fuck yeah, I scored this date myself but also fuck! I scored this date myself.

“What? With Luna?” Lauren asks, equally as wide-eyed from where she’d fallen to the floor. “How? You were only gone for like 3 hours!” Then her tone switches from surprised to demanding so fast, Ashton gets whiplash. “And who the heck is April?!”

Ashton straightens up immediately and clears his throat. “Yeah, so, uh, long story.”

“I’m on summer vacation right now. Cough it up.”

Ashton goes to the fridge instead where he pulls out a beer because there’s no way he’s about to tell Lauren what’s probably the most embarrassing story of his life while sober.

And then they sit on the couch like they had yesterday when he matched with Luna on Tinder except this time, Lauren’s face gets less and less impressed the more he talks.

“So what you’re telling me,” Lauren starts slowly. “Is that you’re standing in a grave that’s 10 feet deep right now because your pride and ego are bigger than your brain?”

Ashton winces. “Can’t you sugarcoat it a little bit?”

“No!” Lauren explodes, almost knocking the beer out of his hands. “Are you even interested in Luna? What if you guys go on your date on Saturday and she’s completely into you and you’re just using her so you can one-up your friends and feed your male ego?” Ashton opens his mouth to say something but Lauren doesn’t let him. “And also!” She snaps. “What if she recognizes you when she sees you? Your face isn’t exactly clear in your Tinder photos. Your face is going to be all over the news Sunday morning, I swear to God!”

“Hey, just because I’m famous doesn’t mean I can’t date.” Ashton defends.

“Yeah, but does she know? What if she doesn’t know who you are and you two get caught on your date and suddenly, her face is all over the internet too?”

Ashton winces. ”Okay, you’re right.” He pauses. “You’re also right about me leading her on.”

“Thank you,” Lauren says grumpily, crossing her arms.

“But I mean,” Ashton says in a small voice. “I’m also not opposed to finding someone new?”

Lauren sighs. “How about you and Luna go on that date on Saturday, and if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. You both wish each other well and both go on your merry ways.”

“...And if it does?”

“Then don’t get mad when I say I told you so!”

★

The days that lead up to Saturday are almost too slow.

On Wednesday, Luna had finally asked for Ashton’s number, texting him a cute puppy emoji to let him know the text was from her. On the same day, Luna had gone from calling him Fletcher to Fletch with no explanation, causing his heart rate to spike for a good twenty minutes before Lauren slapped him back to present-day reality.

On Wednesday afternoon, Ashton found himself frantically googling pet-friendly restaurants that served both pizza and alcohol. For bougie ass downtown Los Angeles, it was fucking difficult. But he’d managed to find one thirty minutes out of the city centre that had a nice outdoor patio and a menu for dogs. When he texted her the address, he got a ‘thank you for finding a place!’ back from Luna and it made his heart skip a goddamn beat because his ex had never thanked him for something like that.

On Thursday morning before the sun had even risen, Ashton had startled himself awake when he remembered he needed Petunia for Saturday. Squinting at his phone in the dark, he’d sent Luke a frantic text, reading: ‘Michael was fucking right Lauren’s going on a date on Saturday!!!!! Can you do me a huge favour and let her borrow Petunia for the day I don’t trust her SKETCHY ASS TINDER DATE’. And then Luke had texted him back not two minutes later, not even about Ashton texting him at ass o’clock, but about who Lauren was going on a date with, if Ashton knew him, why he was sketchy, and if he needed to kick anyone’s ass. He spent the next hour trying to convince Luke that they didn’t need to follow her on her date. In the end, it had turned into a she just needs Petunia goddammit Hemmings go back to bed.

By the time Saturday finally rolls around, Ashton is fucking winded.

Lauren’s still in bed (still in his bed, mind you), half asleep and bleary eyed and watching him dig around head first in the closet, mumbling to himself.

“Dude,” Lauren groans, breaking the silence for the first time since Ashton had barged in with no explanation. “This is too much action for eight in the morning,”

“Brunch is at ten and I still need to pick up Petunia!” He hisses, head popping out of a pile of clothing a moment later with two shirts in hand. “The black button-up or the blue polo?”

Lauren groans again. “What colour pants are you wearing?”

“Grey.”

“Black button-up.”

Ashton flings the blue polo back into the closet before Lauren can even finish her sentence, pulling his sleeping shirt off immediately afterwards.

“Ash, ew!” Lauren grumbles, flopping backwards onto the bed and throwing the covers over her head. Her head pops back out a moment later. “Just make sure to roll up the sleeves so you don’t look like you’re coming from a freaking business conference. And don’t button up all the way!”

“Got it!” He says hastily as he’s running out the door. “Thanks Laurie, love you, see you, bye!”

He’s already sweating by the time he gets into his car, the summer heat already at a sweltering 25 degrees celsius and rising despite it being so early in the morning. But even though it feels like Satan’s armpit, he pulls on a hoodie anyway because he’d rather die than have Luke see him dressed up in a button-up for supposedly no goddamn reason. It’s a little past 9am by the time he pulls into Luke’s driveway, Luke already standing there with an excited Petunia pulling on the leash.

He throws open the car door. “Petunia!” He greets, out of breath for no reason.

Petunia yips, panting happily and immediately trying to clamber all over Ashton’s lap as he bends down to pat at her head.

“I don’t know how useful Petunia’s going to be if Lauren’s date turns out to be a creep,” Luke says worriedly, still tugging on the leash to get Petunia to calm down. “Are you sure you don’t want us to follow her?”

“Mate, we’re both over six feet tall.” Ashton retorts. “If we follow her around, we’re both going to look creepier than her date.”

Luke squints. “How are you not worried?”

“I am!” Ashton insists. He’s lying out of his ass. “But Petunia’s a bulldog. No offense but her reputation is already scarier than any face we could ever pull.”

“Just make sure Lauren picks up the phone if you call!” Luke’s voice trails as Ashton opens the car’s passenger door and ushers Petunia inside. She settles nicely into the seat, looking up at Ashton with more love and adoration in her eyes than her owner ever did. “And take this bag!” He says, shoving a plastic bag that’s almost overflowing with the amount of shit that’s in it. “It’s Petunia’s food and toys. Tell Lauren to feed her and make sure she’s hydrated and-”

Ashton climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door on him.

“-And don’t forget to bring Petunia back by dinner! I swear to god, Irwin!” Luke screams through the glass. “Love you Petunia!”

The entire ride to the brunch place, Petunia just sticks her head out the window, tongue flying in the wind as she bops her head to the classical music Ashton had put on to calm himself the fuck down. The closer he gets to the restaurant, the more he feels himself getting a stomach ache. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’d felt this nervous for a date but if this doesn’t work out and he ends up going to Mikey’s wedding by himself, Calum might cry on his behalf and Luke might force him to be his and Sierra’s plus-two and as the oldest in the goddamn band, he’s not sure if he can handle that kind of humiliation.

But if this actually does work out with Luna, then he’ll just tell her the truth after Mikey’s wedding. That would be fine, right? Assuming nobody asks why the names Luna and April don’t match up.

Ashton groans. This is an entire goddamn mess.

The brunch place is packed by the time he pulls into a spot fifteen minutes before his reservation. There are dogs everywhere and Petunia’s so excited to see other beings of her kind that she’s resorted to pacing in circles impatiently in the passenger seat.

“Hold on Petunia,” Ashton groans, cutting the engine and throwing a hand over his eyes. “I’m nervous. Give me a minute.”

And because she’s the most perfect dog to ever exist (don’t tell Calum he said that), she stops pacing and starts licking gently at his hand. For once, Ashton doesn’t mind the slobber. He grins, looking down at her. “Okay, fine. Out we go then, baby.”

Before he slides out of the car, he pulls off his hoodie and puts on his sunglasses, thankfully fitting right in with all the other bougie people in their sundresses and designer purses who have time to wake up early on a Saturday for a brunch date with their dogs. He and Petunia bypass the ridiculous line, ignoring all the people who start cooing at Petunia. Thank fuck he’d made a reservation.

“Fletcher for two?” He says, trying to make his voice sound more like Fletcher Nobody Irwin and less like Ashton from 5SOS.

He tenses for a moment when the hostess pauses mid-greeting to eye him up and down. To throw her off, he gestures at Petunia who’s busy sniffing at a dandelion. “This is Monster Truck.” He introduces.

It’s then that the hostess looks at him again, decides that anybody who names their dog Monster Truck probably isn’t anybody famous and gestures behind her. “Follow me, sir. Your table is right by the water.”

Ashton lets out the breath he’d been holding when he and the hostess round the corner and he sees the only empty table on the patio, meaning Luna had yet to arrive. He picks the seat with his back facing the majority of the restaurant’s patrons. The hostess plucks the ‘reserved’ sign off the table, hands him the menu, wishes him a good time and then leaves him alone which Ashton is thankful for because he’d rather be left alone to have his panic attack by himself.

Petunia sits dutifully by his feet, drinking the water that the hostess had generously poured into a clear glass bowl for her.

Ashton is so busy trying to calm the hell down that he doesn’t notice the giant dalmatian sniffing at him from behind until its nose bumps right into where he’s most ticklish. He jumps at the same time a voice behind him squeaks, “Sorry!”

His heart has time to throw itself wildly against his chest bone exactly 1 time before he’s whipping around in his chair and coming face to face with stunning pale blue eyes. “Luna?” He breathes out, his eyes catching hers just as the words leave his mouth. Wow, okay. Jesus fuck, her Tinder photos had not done the colour of her eyes any justice.

Her unsure face transforms suddenly into a smile. “And you must be Fletcher?”

He almost does a double-take at the name before he remembers that oh yeah, he’s supposed to be Fletcher I-Eat-Brunch-With-Sunglasses-On Irwin and making a good impression right now because Mikey’s wedding. “Yeah, yes! That’s me.” His palms are sweaty and he can’t tell if it’s because they’re sitting on an outdoor patio is 30 degree weather or if it’s just his pretty date making him more nervous than his ex had ever made him.

It’s at this moment that Petunia (god bless her soul) decides to come lumbering over from her water bowl, her panting, drooly, smiling face looking up at Luna like she hung the stars (which, in Ashton’s opinion, is very fitting for her name).

“And this must be Petunia!” Luna exclaims, bending down to pat the bulldog’s head. Luna’s hand is so small it’s practically dwarfed by Petunia’s giant head. “It’s nice to meet you.” She says to Petunia and oh my god, Ashton could melt right then and there.

Instead, Oreo decides to try and sniff his crotch as Ashton tries to stand. He makes a strangled sound as Oreo’s nose digs into the front of his pants. “Holy crap,” He blurts, because he apparently has no brain-to-mouth filter. “Petunia has never reached that high before.”

“I am so sorry,” Luna squeaks again, blushing up to her ears. “Oreo, behave please! This is my first date with such a handsome guy,” She jokes shyly, pulling the dalmatian back by the leash.

It’s Ashton’s turn to turn bright fucking red. Holy shit. He feels like a 15-year old virgin all over again.

“He must smell the golden retriever german shepherd mix in me,” Ashton jokes back.

She pauses and then looks up at him for a moment before she bursts into laughter. “Oh, that’s right!” She says as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a cookie shaped like a bone. It’s wrapped in plastic and tied together with a pink ribbon. She holds it out to him shyly. “I did promise you a treat. I hope you like gingerbread?” Oh, wow.

“Is this for me or for Petunia?” He teases as he takes it, because he wants to see her blush again.

She giggles and Ashton feels like his heart might fall out of his chest. “For you.”

Ashton can feel the heat creeping up his neck. He stands again, without Oreo all up in his crotch this time, and for a second he has to pause because holy shit, Luna is tiny, the top of her head just reaching his shoulders. And then she looks up at him, smiling, which kicks him back into gear, stumbling around the table to pull her chair out of her.

“Thank you,” She mumbles, cheeks still red. Oreo follows her as she sits down, folding his legs underneath him right next to Petunia who he sniffs a couple times before turning to Petunia’s water bowl to stick his face into. Petunia doesn’t look like she minds.

“So,” Ashton starts as soon as he’s settled back down. It’s when he pulls up the menu to his face that he realizes he can’t see the tiny font through the dark tint of his sunglasses. Shit. “Uh.” Luna’s looking at him expectantly from over the top of her menu. “You studied psych in school?” He asks, diverting the conversation by pulling the topic straight out of his asshole.

She smiles so much that her eyes disappear into little moons. “You remember that from my bio?”

“That, and the dogs and the pizza and the wine,” He lists off, grinning on autopilot when she does and trying not to make it obvious he’s trying to find the right time to take off his sunglasses. What the hell kind of expensive ass sunglasses are these anyway? “Psych’s very cool.”

Oreo yips.

“Yeah, Oreo’s pretty cool with me studying psych too,” Luna jokes, reaching down to rub at Oreo’s head. “What about you? What do you do?”

Ashton freezes. Lauren’s words from yesterday start ringing in his head. It’s now or never. Now or never.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he slowly, inconspicuously slides the sunglasses off his face, getting ready to launch himself over the table and towards the car park if she starts screaming.

When nothing happens, he looks back up at her. She’s still staring politely at him even though his sunglasses are completely off now and his bare face is exposed for the world to see and lit up from the glaring sun. Those pale blue eyes blink back at him.

Nothing. Ashton inhales sharply. She… doesn’t recognize him?

“I’m a drum teacher,” Ashton blurts, the words flying out of his mouth before his brain even knows what he’s saying. Okay, too close! Too close to real life, Jesus Christ. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to make any connections.

“No way! Drums?” She says, looking surprised. Her expression melts into a wide smile. “That’s really cool! I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my hands on a drum kit before. Maybe you could teach me sometime.” She compliments genuinely, looking at him shyly. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and for moment, Ashton’s fucking smitten. He forgets all about the fact that he’s the drummer of the band that released Youngblood, multi-platinum certified and #1 on the Billboard Top 200. For today, he’s just a regular fucking guy out for brunch and Luna’s attention is all on him. He feels like a sponge, trying to absorb as much of it as he can.

Thankfully, the waiter that’s serving them chooses that moment to swing by and introduce himself with too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning, looking like serving brunch to people with too much money is his life calling.

“And what would this lovely couple like to order today?” The waiter sings eagerly.

Luna stutters. “O-Oh, we’re not...”

Ashton doesn’t even bother denying the waiter. “The blueberry pupcakes for Petunia and just the steak and eggs for me, please,” He says, smiling before glancing up at his date. The waiter pretends to swoon at his charm. “And for you, my lady?”

Luna laughs at the subtle reference to their tinder conversation, a rosy blush decorating her cheeks. “The Poochini for Oreo, please, and I’ll take the prosciutto flatbread. Thank you.”

The waiter leaves with promises of their food soon.

“So, the prosciutto flatbread?” Ashton jokes. The look on her face says she already knows where this is going.

“It’s the closest thing I can get to pizza here,” She says with a serious face before she bursts into giggles not two seconds later.

Fuck, Ashton’s in love.

★   

| TBC |