#i hope they don’t go to penalties bro

[satoruxx]

yeah alright this match is taking years off my life i’m so stressed

[starcrossedreaders]

One More Time

Azriel x Reader

Warning: There is mature topics at the end (masturbation) as well as fighting

Authors note: Thank you sm for all of the support on the first part of Cold Kiss. So to heal your guy’s desires I wrote a part two. Enjoy <3

Part I

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

“YOU GUYS DID WHAT!” Mor could not believe the words coming out of my mouth, and I could not believe how loud she was being.

“Shut up Mor it was one kiss. One very long, and hot, and-,” 

“SEE! It’s so perfect I can literally see it right now, you guys dating is literally to good,” I rubbed my temples and wondered how the fuck I was back in the loud and cold stadium, watching this aggressive ass sport in the uncomfy seats. Except this time was worse, we were closer to the ice and my book was left at home, on my comfy bed, my ideal location in this very moment.

Both teams were warming up and I could not have been drooling anymore then I was in that moment. Their asses were formed by a god, their muscles, and flexibility, lord have mercy.  Their stretches made my mind wonder into places it should not go to. If they looked that good on the ice how good would they look in bed? 

                                                           Azriel

Gods she could not have looked anymore beautiful then she did in the moment. Her hair was braided perfectly, her leggings hugged her legs just right, her lips parted to talk to Mor and all I could think of was last week. Her cherry ChapStick clashing with my lips, gods they were so soft. I can only imagine how her mouth would feel in other places. 

“She is easy on the eye ain’t she,” The captain of the other team sild right next to me and leaned his arm on my shoulder. Before I could open my mouth to fight back the buzzer rang and everyone was heading back to the locker rooms.

“Good luck lover boy,” The captain winked as he skated off. His ass was mine, and I sure as hell don’t care if it caused our loss.

Cassian must’ve over heard the conversation because he grabbed my shoulder while I was seething.

“Come on, we have a whole game to beat his ass. Save it for the right time.” I shook my head as we headed into the locker room.

The game was down by 2 and we were truly racing the clock. The captain was getting on my nerves and I am getting ready to blow. He tripped, and held and didn’t get called for any of it. I skate up to the middle to get the puck drop. Crouching low the time goes, whistles blow, puck drops and before I could slide the puck I heard his nasally ass voice.

“I wonder what noise she’ll make when I make her cum tonight?”

Fuck no.

I throw my gloves and helmet on the ground and try to grab him in a choke hold.

“Come on bro, you fight like a girl. How are you supposed to pull them when you fight like them?” I skated back only to launch myself towards him and tackle him by the waist. I got a good few punches in before I was dragged off.

“Be careful how you speak about her.” Venom dripped from my words as I skated towards the penalty box.

                                                        Reader

Fuck that was hot. But holy shit I hope he’s okay. I was quick to stand when the fight broke out, hoping Az didn’t go far. Once I sat back down Mor began to speak.

“I wonder what caused him to fight. Normally it’s Cassian throwing the punches and Azriel  stopping him,” Mor sipped the drink in her hand.

The game seemed to end shortly after, Mor and I stood near the locker room waiting for them to emerge.  Soon, we heard the shuffle of steps and the door opened. The team was silent. Tonight’s loss was a big one, and I could only imagine how they feel. Their biggest competitor that they should have had an easy win on, and they fumbled and lost it. Rhysand and Cassian slightly smiled upon seeing their significant others. Mor leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Poor girls are going to have a long, long night tonight.” I turn to ask her but all she does is poke the side of her cheek and I quickly understood. Oh, I could feel the blush rush to my ears as I think about the night ahead of them.

Leaving the event stadium everyone went their separate ways. I finish hugging Nesta when someone tapped me on my shoulder. I was quick to whip my head around, I was soon met with whom I assumed was the captain of the other team.

“Hey, sweets,” his sad attempt at flattery failed immensely and it gave me second hand embarrassment.

“Hi,” short and sweet, works every time.

“So, I saw you at the game tonight and you made me instantly lose my breath. Soo, I was wondering if you were busy tonight? Maybe we can go out for a drink or two?” I batted my eyelashes as he fixed his posture to make him seem confident.

“This late at night? I shouldn’t really, I have work in the morning,” The lie slipped through my teeth. I truly wanted to make him work for it only to trip him in the end.

“Oh come on, it’s all for fun. You know I think we would really hit it off,” Who the fuck says that when first meeting someone? This poor poor soul. I let out a sigh as I said: “Boy if you want to go I would not mind,”

He smirks as he hands me his phone. “It’s a date then,” I put my number in his phone leaving it one digit off.

                                                          Azriel

Gods I was seething at the sight. There is no way she could have forgotten about the kiss, let alone allow this guy to even try to get into her pants after what he did tonight. One moment she was worried for me an the next she’s giving him her number. 

After she handed his phone he smirked at me and dipped down to kiss her. I am seeing red, there is no way he was going to taint her lips. I start my stride towards them when I stopped at the next sight. Right before his lips touched hers, a breath away she pushed his head to the side.

“Boy I’m not the kinda drum you play one time.” She laughs at his frazzled state and goes to walk off.

“You know my mother couldn’t warn me about girls like you when there was none like you around,” Y/N snorts before he grabbed her wrist. Her tough girl demeanor fell real quick when she realized what had just grabbed her.

                                                         Reader

Regret, regret and horror and fear filled my body. His grip around my wrist tighten as he pulled me near him. Before he could get his other hand on my body a large body filled the space to my left. His cedar and sweat scent filled my nose. His large hand wrapped around the captain’s wrist and Az gave him a soul crushing look. Az was quick to push me behind before his arm went through the air and slammed into the captains cheek.  Not this shit again. 

The hit Az got seemed to do the job as the poor boy was tumbling, while holding his gushing nose. Azriel went for another hit but I was quick to grab his elbow before he could.

“I think he gets the message, lets go,” I rub his arm with my thumb as I try to pull him away. Az let out a breath as he followed me to his car.

                                                           Azriel

“Thanks for being my knight in shining armor,” She let out the most precious laugh I have ever heard, I think my heart might melt right here.

“It’s not funny,” I was quick to turn my head so she couldn’t see me blushing. Her hand on my arm was sending tingles down my spine.

“Az I mean it, I didn’t realize how fucked I would have been if he did something else, so truly thank you, I owe you one,”  She gave my arm one last squeeze before she stepped back, crossed her arms and winked. Natural flirt.

Fuck, I did not believe Mor when she told us about her “innocent” roommate that could make a man go onto his knees. The way Mor had described her did not do her any justice. Her face was the pretties thing, her body is to make a man die for, her personality was heart warming. It made me want to get to know her more. I truly believed she was this innocent girl who has to read to get her fill of romance, and.... other things. Gods the thought of the other things is making my cock strain against my sweats. Thank god it is dark out.

“Are you okay?”  I gave her nod. She must’ve seen the strain on my face or else she would not have asked if I was okay in that  euphoric voice. I can’t stop the thinking of how her voice would sound when I-

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just peachy. Just tired. Let me walk you to your car.” Her tight lipped smile and slight nod gave me a pinch of regret. 

The walk to her car was short and sweet, bidding our farewells was even shorter. Now that I lay in my bed all I could think about is she would fell around me. The moans from Nesta and Cassian with the mix of thoughts about her only heightened my cock. I chased my release using only my imagination and hand.

Part III

[swagglessmoth]

Fic rant

I gotta be honest guys, I don’t have much hope for things to get better 😔

Like, I really want team Minato to stop Kakashi before he goes off the deep end. But ohh, that’s just not gonna happen is it 😭

What really cemented this were these lines from chapter 4

OBITO WDYM BY THAT

I understand regretting meeting Sukea, bc that’s pretty much one of the primary things that made him spiral. BUT «The future enemy of the world» WHAT. WAS HE NOT GONNA CHANGE THAT END-OF-THE-WORLD THING WITH KAGUYA?? WHEN IS HE GETTING RID OF HER 😭

Kakashi, boy, I know you like this whole thing of following Obito’s script, BUT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY CHANGE THINGS ☠️

And he HAS changed a lot, which made me forget that he still plans to go after the jinchuriki ☠️ LIKE, WTF IS HE TRYING TO DO?? “Oh yeah, I’ve been controlling everything behind the scenes this whole time 😈😈 I reformed and entire country and now they’re extremely happy, jk loll I’ve been evil the entire time! I stopped a clan’s genocide, it doesn’t help in my plan at all, but hey I’m so evil. Haha stop me haha”

And yeah; I know he’s not gonna tell anyone that he’s from the future, or what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been there, bc he’s trying to go the ‘I’m the big bad ooo’ route. But pls I need other characters to find out he’s from the future PLS 🙏 at least if they saw how the other world turned out, we could reach an understanding.

I really have no idea how the switch-up’s gonna go. Is he doing all this in Kiri so that people are indebted to him and follow his plans blindly? How will he handle the Akatsuki, now that the ame trio has relatively friendly relations with team minato? What about the other members?? I know once he reveals how much he’s been controlling shit and that he has two stolen sharingan, people will be jumping to kill him, no question. Not to mention the jinchuriki stuff and how much it’s gonna rile up all the villages. I know he can, and will, pull it off, but it just feels like he has too much on his hands. The plan isn’t just getting the death penalty in all villages, he needs to actually unite them, or else the peace won’t last.

His plan is much more complicated than Obito’s. Bc instead of getting rid of all his obstacles (Minato, the Uchiha, the ame trio once they’ve fulfilled their role, etc.) he’s intentionally keeping them alive, so that in the end they go against him in the final battle .AND he still has to change the shinobi world while having everything and everyone under control. AND figure out what to actually do about Kaguya. He’s been doing all this ‘play’ for her, but will she be satisfied with just that?

Stuff’s gonna get COMPLICATED BRO. And there’s not even the possibility to be spared from all his crimes by helping fight against a greater evil, BC HE PLANS TO BE THAT GREATER EVIL ☠️☠️☠️☠️

Everyone’s just gonna conclude that he’s too dangerous to keep around and kill him, I know. But I’m too deep in denial at this point, I’m still hoping he magically gets a happy ending. Bc getting a second chance at life and fucking up all the same is a possibility too devastating to consider. AND I DONT EVEN WANNA THINK ABOUT THE OBKK OUGH. You can’t just go and give them a sad ending twice, pls RK7200 have mercy pls 🙏🙏

Idk how far in the timeline this fic’s gonna go, or if there’s gonna be some sort of time skip. But I guess the final battle will come around the same time as the Fourth war in canon. If that’s the case I’m putting all my bets on Naruto and Kushina (bc Hound saved her and she wants to know who did it) 🙏 save that man guys, I believe in you. Oof, Kakashi’s heart would break if he were to be talk no jutsued ❤️‍🩹

And to end this rant: I also hope that “enemy of the world” thing won’t be to the extent of og Obito’s. It just meaning ‘being a mayor threat to the shinobi world’, not being the cause for the end of the world, you know?

[khaleesiofalicante]

There’s nothing to disagree here, really. Crossing an active track is probably penalty worthy because Lewis could have died. That’s what they’re discussing. Instead of a payable fine, they’re now discussing whether an actual penalty such as points is a better solution. Because, again, Lewis could have literally been killed right there. Their phrasing about “role models” might be odd, but this is a genuine concern for drivers’ safety.

It’s a good thing they are looking into Lewis’ incident deeper. I can’t believe this has to be explained to motorsport fans.

What do you mean there is “nothing to disagree” 😭😭😭 we literally have two different opinions that’s what a disagreement means bro.

Yes, I understand you, which is why I’m asking why they are only giving a penalty now? What about when it was done before? Monza 2021? What about then?

No one is saying they shouldn’t look into the incident. It’s about “how” they are looking into it. Surely the unusual claim that drivers should behave better if they’re older and more experienced is odd?? and going back to reevaluate penalties is surely not how the FIA should operate??

If you think this kind of behavior by the FIA is normal and should be allowed, that’s fine. You do you. But I refuse to believe this was brought up because they were concerned about Lewis’ safety or the overall safety of the drivers (especially after the clusterfuck that was Qatar GP)

PS - You don’t have to explain anything to Motorsport fans. It’s not that we don’t understand it. We don’t agree with it. It’s not an issue with comprehension, but rather an issue of ethics. Hope that’s clear!

Goodnight 😇

[killa-trav]

Yesterday was awful but I did laugh at their goalie trying to intimate Bruno only to get a cold penalty for his troubles and then Onana did it to their captain and it worked. We’re jammy and shameless, but I don’t care because that pen wasn’t a pen.

yeh same tbh like bro thought he was him n bruno humbled him real quick. onana man i love him so much thank fuck we finally have a gk who knows how to save a penalty i love it so much

also yeh we was jammy as fuck, the pen shouldn't have counted. their goal that was ruled off was harsh but it's pissing me off everyone saying it should've stood bc of the magic of the cup like that's not how it works n if it were other way around no one would be saying shit.

fair play to cov for going toe to toe with us all game, i did say multiple times they would show up and they did n they should be proud. their fans however? they can fuck off being all ooh were better cos we stayed after full time n waved a plastic flag like it's literally ur big day out calm it n plus who can blame our fans for leaving when a) it's 4 hour journey back and b) the performance on pitch was fucking awful

i do hope we win the final but i'm not optimistic at all

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[katsukavi]

"OH SHIT!" part 2

"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."

Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.

"(M/n)! Stab me!"

"HELL NO!"

"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"

"Fine. I'll stab myself."

"No!"

The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.

"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."

"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."

Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.

"How did you even conceive this child?"

"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."

"I see. It must've been a heat."

"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."

"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"

"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.

It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.

[The Orion System is extremely happy!]

[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]

[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]

"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."

"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."

[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]

[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]

'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.

That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.

[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]

[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]

[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]

'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."

"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"

"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.

"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."

"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"

"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."

"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"

"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"

"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?

"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"

"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"

(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.

[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]

"He's the father of my child."

Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?

Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?

Then all those times they left together..

"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"

"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."

'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'

"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"

"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."

"What?"

"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"

"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."

[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]

[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]

(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.

"I'll see you then."

Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.

"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"

"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.

As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"

"It doesn't taste good."

"It tastes just fine, get over here!"

Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'

The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.

'I haven't even done half yet?'

[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]

[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]

Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.

["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]

"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.

[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]

FWOOSHHH!!

On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.

"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.

[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]

[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]

Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.

"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.

"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"

[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]

[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]

"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.

[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]

"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.

[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]

"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.

"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.

"I was a little offended, you know."

[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]

[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]

"Orion, shut up."

[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]

[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]

[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]

The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..

But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.

But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?

"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.

As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.

[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]

"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.

[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]

[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]

[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]

"Oh nice. This is your room?"

"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.

"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.

"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."

"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.

(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.

"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."

"You can use Google Maps."

"I don't bring my phone everywhere."

"You don't? I thought you were an addict."

"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.

"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."

"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].

"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"

Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'

Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."

(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.

"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."

"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.

"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."

[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]

[(￢‿￢ )]

Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."

(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?

But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?

"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"

"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"

"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.

"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"

"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.

It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.

"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"

"I didn't—"

"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.

His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.

"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."

"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"

"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."

"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"

[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]

"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.

"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"

"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.

"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"

"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.

"No.. That's not.."

"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!

But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!

"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"

Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.

"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"

"Who?!"

"The author!"

(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)

"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.

He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?

"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."

"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.

"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.

Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?

He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.

"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.

"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."

"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.

(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.

"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"

"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"

"Yeah."

"He suits it well, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"

"I agree."

Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).

"Yeah."

"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"

'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.

"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"

"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"

"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"

"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.

"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."

"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"

"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.

In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"

"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."

"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"

"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?

"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."

Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!

(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.

[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]

[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]

Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.

[xbarrjallenx]

Game Night

Pairing: Hargreeves!Siblings x Gender-Neutral!Sibling!Reader

Summary: The Hargreeves siblings bonded with each other through their game night, a moment when peace and quiet weren’t welcome in their house.

Requested: Yes / No

Word count: 1.413

Posted: 14.08.2020

Warning(s): Siblings banter, swearing

Song inspiration: - 

A/N: Hello, guys! It has been a while since I last posted something and I am truly sorry, but I was in a really bad place for a very long time. Gladly, The Umbrella Academy season 2 came out recently and it gave me some inspirations to continue my writing. It’s my first TUA imagine, so comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated. Also, English is not my first language and my writing is very rusty and inexperient. - G. x

Take note: Ben is alive.

Links: Masterlist | Song inspirations | Support My Writing

“UNO!” Klaus excitedly announced as he threw his next-to-last UNO card on the wooden centre table, only one card remaining on his left hand. You, together with your other six siblings, shot him a sharp death glare, miffed and tired of him and his actions.

It was the Hargreeves siblings’ game night and the game was either UNO or Monopoly. Everyone happily chose the former, outnumbering the latter, to avoid another huge family mess - Monopoly ruined your relationship with each other many times and the last game turned out so badly that Allison and Diego almost killed Five for bankrupting them.

“What do you mean UNO again?” Diego frustratingly asked his brother, grip tightening around the massive deck of cards in his hand. He got a huge chain of Draw Twos and Wild Draw Fours in the previous turn, needing to draw eighteen cards in total for the stacking penalty. 

Klaus nonchalantly laughed, grabbing another bottle of beer from the table. “It’s just a game. Chill out, Diego!” 

Ben took a stinging and deep sigh, frowning as he faced Klaus once again. “Yes, it is just a game, but we have been playing for more than an hour now and neither of us has won, except for you.”

“Sore losers!” The defending champion playfully remarked, enjoying his siblings’ disputes while admiring his new bottle of beer.

“Shut the fuck up!” You all shouted in unison while you threw every cushion towards Klaus’ direction. 

Klaus kept on laughing, neatly hiding his precious card under a cushion as he grabbed the bottle opener. “I am loving this moment so much!”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of beer. “I swear, Klaus! If you’re using your powers again to win this game, you’re dead.” 

“I bet he is!” Luther commented and the rest of the siblings agreed to his statement, Ben and Vanya shaking their heads in disbelief. 

Klaus nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “It’s not my fault if I am extremely talented.” 

“Yeah, Cheater, your Caspers should be banned from this house.” Diego muttered, eyes now focused on his deck. 

“Klaus, you are no fun!” Ben pointed out, remembering him the rules of not using your powers during game night soon after.

Five obnoxiously cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Are we done crying? You are interrupting my turn!”  

“Bitchy!” Allison and Vanya declared, both of them giving him a go on playing his card.

“Thank you, sisters!” Five sarcastically replied, throwing a Wild Card after taking a huge bite out of his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. “Yellow!” 

“We are technically against Klaus right now, Five.” Ben rolled his eyes as he had to fish a card.

“Well, actually, thank you, Five!” Vanya proudly smiled, enthusiastically dropping her second last card on the table. “UNO!” 

The champion’s eyes suddenly grew wide, alarmed that he might lose this turn, and Vanya gave him a toothy smile as you and your siblings noisily cheered for her. 

“Luther, please have a reverse card!” You hoped as you played your yellow card. 

“Boring deck, sorry!” Luther sincerely apologised as he dropped a normal yellow card, passing the turn to Diego.

Diego attentively observed his cards and he exasperatedly looked at all of you. “All of these cards, but no fucking yellow. Five, you son of a bitch, where did you learn how to shuffle cards? You’re so bad at it!” 

“Maybe the Game Gods just hate you so much, Diego!” Five counter-attacked and loud chuckles flew across the room. 

“He’s just a kid, Diego,” You playfully pointed out, earning a round of laughter from your siblings. “cut him some slack.” 

“Oh, fucking shut up, (Y/N)!” Five fiercely responded and you laughed louder than the usual, realising how much of a crier the Hargreeves siblings were. 

“Fish a card, loser!” Allison demandingly obligated Diego and he grumbled in response, reporting that he has almost lost his patience for the shitty game that you were playing.

“Please don’t let Klaus win, Allison.” Ben sweetly pleaded, his sweet puppy dog eyes showing.

“Sis, I am about to win,” Vanya reminded her, happily shaking her last UNO card. “please skip Klaus.”

Allison guiltily looked at her cards and silently mumbled an apology, playing a normal yellow card and letting Klaus proceed on his turn. Everyone around the table groaned and hoped that he wasn’t holding a yellow or a same-numbered card.

“Yeah, hate me all you want,” Klaus proudly sang after drinking his beer bottom up, throwing his last card soon after. “but I still fucking won.” 

Complaints and insults flew across the room while the winner celebrated and gave high fives on different empty spots behind him. 

“Fuck you and your ghosts, Cheater!” Ben playfully exclaimed, grip still tight on his cards. 

“You would be my ghost bitch, if (Y/N) didn’t save you that night, idiot!” Klaus reminded him, making Ben sigh exasperatedly. You were shocked that Klaus brought the incident up once again, but before you could comment on it, Diego has already spoken up.

“I am so done with these stupid games.” He messily threw his cards on the table. “Can we abolish game night, please? All of us are, now, adults. Well, most of us.”

“Just because the Game Gods are against you, you want to abolish Hargreeves siblings’ game night? That’s unfair, bro! Besides, it’s the only time we don’t stress about our adulthood.” It was impossible that Diego hadn’t got a possible move earlier so you checked his cards properly and you judgingly looked at him. “For fucking real, dumbass? I refuse to believe this.” 

The siblings started shutting their mouths up and they paid you their whole attention, eyes filled with curiosity. “What?” 

You grabbed a special card from Diego’s deck and raised it in the air. “Diego had the Swap Hand Card and never played it!”

Diego furrowed his eyebrows, not fully understanding what you meant. “The what?” 

“Swap Hand Card.” You repeated. “It meant that you could fucking swap cards to anyone you wanted.” 

“What the hell?” He was still confused, but frustration quickly wrapped his face as soon as he processed the new information. “I thought it was just a Jolly card and I had it in all of the previous games.” 

The room was soonly filled with laughter and insults towards your idiot brother. 

“For fuck’s sake, Diego!” Luther shook his head in disappointment as he loudly laughed, relishing how the Kraken immediately lost his cool.

“We painfully watched Klaus win all the damn time when you had the chance to win big time.” Five smartly observed. “Good job, bro!” 

Diego was vexed and the jokes that you and your siblings were throwing at him surely didn’t help on calming himself down. “Fuck you, all of you!” He grabbed the whole deck of UNO cards and violently tossed it across the living room, messily scattering it everywhere. 

“Classic, Diego!” Allison slowly clapped, mocking her sibling even more.

“Cool move, dimwit!” Klaus joined his sister in and whistled, exaggeratedly clapping afterwards.

Diego flashed his middle fingers and started heading out of the living room, leaving you and your siblings in shambles.

“At least, pick up the cards, asshole!” Five fiercely shouted.

“Leave me alone, kid!” Diego shouted back and Five was about to teleport towards Diego to fight him, but Luther and Vanya grabbed his elbows to stop him. 

“Don’t, you might get hurt big time,” Vanya looked at her brother and flashed a playful smirk. “kid.” 

Five groaned and everyone just laughed tumultuously. “I am the oldest one here, stop calling me a kid.”

“You’re thirteen, fly down, child!” You joked, poking the bear even more with your invisible stick.

Five shook his body to take Luther and Vanya’s hands off of him and showed his middle fingers to flip you off.

“Classy, huh?” You watched him chug his black coffee down, aggressively finishing his favourite sandwich subsequently.

“Well, that was fun!” Ben admitted with a huge smile on his face and Vanya softly smiled back at him to agree on his truthful statement.

Game night was fun, huh? Well, it was, but you were glad it happened only once every two weeks or else the Hargreeves’ residence would not find its peace and quiet ever again.

“You all are so hilarious, guys. My ghosts are having so much fun watching you!” Klaus approached as soon as every sibling has calmed down. “Another round?” 

“Fuck off, Klaus!” 

[sodasback]

SPOILERSSSSSSSSSSS

Things I did notttt like in season 2:

Alligators 🐊 …. Yep just alligators

They made JJ seem a lot dumber this season. Like of course we love crazy JJ, but last season he still seemed like he could be a secret genius. Now I’m like alright this is just a dumb 16 year old who strikes gold every once in a while.

The girl John B flirts with at the bonfire … sooooooo cringey like I’m kinda hoping they meant for her to be thattttt cringe so we would just automatically hate her. But I think it was a whole unnecessary level.

Kie says she’s been friends with the boys since kindergarten at one point (alright we’re abandoning the 3rd grade thing fine) …. Like I just don’t get loving/understanding parents disliking your friends THAT much. Like I get Kie gets into a lot of shit because of them, but do they not realize how much those lost boys need a Wendy??

I feel like Kie had a weird trajectory this season, but I think Bailey killed it.

Topper def loves Sarah more than John b does.

Wish there was like something cute between Rafe and Wheezie at some point to make us believe Rafe has a sliver of humanity left in him and that Wheezie (and Ward) is the only person he wouldn’t hurt.

We did not get the scene of Plum pushing JJ against the wall. (Maybe it was supposed to be her instead of the other officer at one point, or there’s a deleted scene that NEEDS to be shared)

We didn’t find out about anyone’s Mom?!!! Like so many opportunities for John B, JJ and the Cameron’s to get a mom backstory. They’re some frickin Disney characters over here with no parents.

Like maybe he’s not supposed to be, but Luke feels wayyyy older than Anna. He graduated like 10 years before her lol and for a split second I was like nooooo JJ and Kie are brother and sister somehow?!!!! Lol glad that didn’t happen

I get he was going off the deep end and it would have been super creepy and tooooooo inappropriate but the Drew Starkey lover in me wants him to at least FLIRT with someone. I feel like when he’s all drunk at the bar, he could have at least flirted with a person. It would have been cringey but still.

Sad Pope and John B didn’t like acknowledge the fact that John B kissed Kie in season 1. Like something stupid about bro code but then John b being like I dgaf. Anddddd I kinda felt like there was perfect opportunities in the last episode for Kie realizing she loves JJ to be like “well I kissed the other 2 already might as well give this a shot before I finally realize I’m a lesbian and Sarah and I are meant for each other.”

Everything medical except for JJ’s explanation of rebound pain in appendicitis. Everything else was soooo bad. They use the ambu bag backwards. WORST fake CPR I’ve ever seen. She was dead for minutesssssss; that would have caused brain damage for sure. The “paramedic” who doesn’t know how to give epinephrine???

The amount of times Rafe almost kills Sarah. Feels like a lot lol calm down bro

I wanted something different/more between Jj and luke. Idk what but I feel like that could have hit better

Also feel like they could have done some serious foreshadowing in the whole JJ after his dad is gone and his little speech into really making us think they killed him in that last episode.

John B’s mom supposedly being alive and not hearing about or acknowledging her son is probably on international news several times in the last few weeks and ya know might get the death penalty apparently.

Things I Loveddddddd:

Heyward. That’s it.

Topper redemption

Kie and Luke *chefs kiss

How John B narrates at the beginning that everyone dies, making us think that we’re gonna lose a lot of ppl this season and it’s going to be Game of Thrones level of no plot armor for the characters and then literally not one of them dies. Like everyone we think dies comes back to life. Lol …. I love this in an ironic way.

Rafe’s “nature kills” speech

Every time Rafe talks to Barry and gets all hot

I wasn’t like a big shipper of anyone really, but after JJ asked how Pope was in bed, I was like kayyyyy they have to.

Love that Pope was the MVP this season. Like it was his season.

Ward not choosing his children …like I’m really glad they didn’t do that. Even though I def wouldn’t blame him for being like oh shit Rafe’s a psycho

There were some ACAB vibes that I liked. But glad we got some Shoupe redemption too.

Barry realizing Rafe is a psycho. Lol

Jorge!!!! I’m so glad we saw him again, but he didn’t mention the bike

John B and JJ reunion, but I feel like they should have leaned into it more

John B finally being like ...okay let me save my friends and surrendering to the cops. 

“Kay round 3 bitch” 

Drew has to come back next season otherwise this was all dumb af. soooo we’re getting more Drew. like there’s no way out of it!! 

I’m def gonna think of more later lol Thoughts???

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Snowdrifts ch.7 (spicyhoney)

Summary:   Uncle Red is always up for babysitting, but is pitting Red against baby Snow the wisest choice?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Rescued Child, Babybones, First Time Parenthood, Idiots to Lovers

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

No matter what the boss thought, Red couldn't actually read anybody's mind. Not that he minded keeping up the illusion, nah, that was pretty fucking useful and back in Underfell, his bro wasn't the only person mostly convinced that Red was able to look right into the dirtiest corners of their mind and see what dust bunnies were lying around.

It was a perk he was gonna miss, at least for a little while. Shouldn’t be hard to get reestablished around these parts, hell, prolly a lot easier. His bro might be having some regrets about abandoning the old place, but Red was more’n happy to set up as a cuckoo in their shiny new nest. The rubes in this ‘verse were ripe for a little mystery and already the gossip was flying about the kid, where she was from and who played incubator. Smart money was on his bro as mama; word around town was that Stretch’s slutty ways took a downward trend a few months back and everyone was real damn interested in seeing who the local bird went cold turkey for.

Red gave ‘em a week before the locals started showing up with casseroles and curiosity. Never underestimate boredom and a hearty rumor mill when making plans. Red never did and he would bet good money he’d have the folks in this Snowdin watching him with awe and suspicion in no time.

Well, more than they already were.

Except Muffet but that didn't surprise him none. Multiverse theory could go hang, he figured she was gonna be a sharp slice of cheddar no matter what world she was from. ‘Least if this one was gonna suck you dry it only meant your wallet. Gal had an eye for talent, he’d give her that, hired him on right away, and Red was looking forward to a long, mutually benefitting relationship.

Anyway, mind reading, eh, not so much. What Red had was a carefully cultivated skill in knowing when people were carrying around a steaming load of bullshit. He'd been learning that knack since he was in short pants even if his pants only got wider over the years, not longer, and right now, there was a week-old baby bones trying to convince him her little soul was gonna break if she didn’t have her daddy close by to lug her around.

Kid was putting on a hell of a show. Lying on her back in a pile of blankets on the living room floor that was also Red’s part-time bedroom, feet kicking up a storm and her little hands clenched in fists that she waved like a prizefighter. Fat tears were rolling down her chunker cheekbones as she howled, awful loud for someone without a set of lungs. Kid was pissed, sure, but pissed ain’t hurt and Red might’ve been kinda impressed by her tenacity if it weren’t for the simple fact that his bro needed some rest. Here they were in marshmallow world with two extra bods helping foot the bill and his bro was still exhausting himself trying to do everything. Difference was, here Red had Stretch running interference and between the two of them, they’d shake the ants out of his brother’s pants.

‘Course, Stretch had a different way of doing it and there was a thought Red wasn’t gonna examine too close. His baby bro’s pants and Stretch could do whatever they wanted out of his line of sight.

Only problem was, the two of them were only upstairs. Kid was getting pretty loud and Red scooped her up into his lap, giving her a gentle bounce. “gonna have to do better than that, snowmonster,” Red told her. “i survived my bro and he’s an expert pain in the ass.”

The wails paused as his voice caught the baby’s attention. Snow goggled at him her mouth still open, and after a moment the cries began again, this time with an uncertain waver.

“nope, try again.” He propped his chin in his hand. "you got my bro fooled, but i ain't the gullible type. might try a little sweettalking, sweetheart.”

A short, shrill cry only got her a chuckle. "sorry, honey, it ain't gonna work on me."

The tears dried up pretty damn fast without someone to break down the dam. Kid hadn’t quite given up yet, Underfell tenacity must be built-in from creation. She gurgled out a pleading cry, her tiny hands reaching for Red’s face. He let her pat his cheekbones, wincing at a particularly firm little slap.

He took the offending hand and gave it a loud kiss, earning a smile for his troubles. "nah, your daddy bears are tired, kiddo, they need a nap. you got 'em both dancing like popcorn on a hot plate, not bad for your first trick."

Hm, daddy? Paps hadn't been too clear on that yet, and fuck them all anyway for renaming his little brother Edge, keerist, might as well name him Gloomy Ass Kissy Pants. Already took himself too fucking serious as it was.

Eh, that probably wasn’t gonna change, Red didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that; he’d been that way since he was about the size of this one, and someday he was gonna show Stretch the pics that were saved on his phone of his lil bro back when he was little. Might have to wait until they were more settled in for that, though.

He’d give it a week.

Red looked down at the baby in his arms, her wide, pale eye lights gazing back up at him. Always watching, this one, learning, figuring things out. When she learned how to crawl, she was gonna be an ever-fucking nightmare for his bro, exactly how Paps had been ever since the very instant he got mobile. Kid hadn’t stopped since.

Red couldn’t wait. Payback really was a bitch and this bitch was gonna slap it right on his little brother’s ass.

“tell you what,” Red told her, “let’s get you a snack, kiddo, and see what other toys the mutts brought over for you, how about that?”

Kid was clearly disgruntled, but she accepted the bottle when Red handed it over, suckling noisily. Red dug into the bag that was still in the corner. Blocks were well and good, but he’d bet there was something in all this junk that made some real noise.

~~*~~

Despite his brother's innuendo when he’d shooed the two of them upstairs for a nap before another night of baby-watching began, there was nothing sexual going on in the bedroom and for that, Edge was guiltily grateful. He would admit to being exhausted, his first day as a caretaker left him as weary as if he’d spent a day running the traplines, and if Stretch had given any indication at all that he was interested in sex, Edge would have been torn over his response.

The answer was a difficult one. On one hand, Stretch had been utterly appalled even a hint of the idea that Edge might pay some of the debt he owed the Swap brothers in that fashion, but on the other, Edge did feel some sense of obligation to Stretch that made him reluctant to beg off. Best not to say that aloud, it wasn't a difficult guess that the very notion would upset Stretch a great deal.

There was also the fact that they'd been sleeping together for some months now, anything at this point would have a diminished value.

Not that it mattered in this situation. Stretch didn’t give any indication that he was hoping for anything past a solid eight hours of putting the mattress to its more traditional use and barring that, at least a couple hours of decent rest.

Still, Edge couldn’t help teasing, “Are you sure you want to use our time to sleep? My brother seemed to think we could make other use of it.”

There was a tiny sprinkle of bright freckles across Stretch’s nasal nodule and Edge could privately admit that the way they scrunched together when his face twisted was rather adorable.

"baby, you know i'm always up for it," Stretch grimaced. "but i don't think i can get it up right now. unless you want to drive…?"

Tempting as the idea of being inside Stretch was, whatever desire the image managed to rouse was closer to a wet firecracker than a spark. "To be honest, I think I'd rather nap," Edge confessed. If he even could, through the closed door he could hear Snow’s wails and it was only his brother’s firm edict that they were not to come back downstairs for at least two hours that was keeping him in this room at all. The penalty for disobeying a direct order from Red was not usually a subtle revenge and Edge didn’t care to see what sort of creativity his brother might come up with in new surroundings.

"nap it is then." Stretch scrambled into the bed, sprawling across the mattress. He turned back to Edge, both arms spread wide, "since we ain’t taking off, you may as well come on in for a landing!"

Edge rolled his eye lights but crawled in with him. Stretch squawked as Edge firmly rolled him over on his side and snugged up behind him. He murmured against the smooth, sensitive bone at the base of Stretch’s skull. "I believe it's my turn to be the big spoon."

The way Stretch shifted against him nearly made him rethink his urge for sleep. Stretch laughed, a touch unsteadily, "sweetheart, you can handle my silverware anytime you like. after a nap."

After a nap, yes. The crying from downstairs had petered out and Edge pulled the blankets over them both and settled in. Napping was still unfamiliar to him and he didn't sleep so much as drift, resting in the fog of exhaustion. That alone was an unaccustomed pleasure and there was no telling how long he drifted before he resurfaced to unexpected movement.

The faint shudder of Stretch in his arms didn't wake him so much as nudge him from that fog and the loss left him disoriented and surly. Edge pushed up on an elbow, frowning down at the other skeleton and his irritation faded as he caught his breath at what he saw.

Stretch was crying. He was curled up on the mattress, still sleeping while tears seeped from his closed sockets and left wet trails down his cheekbones. His breath was clotted with the quiet sobs racking him and without the pressure of Edge’s arm holding him down, he curled up tighter into a fetal ball, his long legs drawn up against his skinny ribcage as he wept at whatever his dreams were showing him.

No amount of rest was worth this kind of pain and Edge gave him a gentle shake, saying softly, "Stretch? Stretch, wake up."

He did not anticipate Stretch lurching up and scrambling away from him, his joints lit with magic and his eye lights flaring wildly as he flung both hands out as if to ward him away, brilliant orange engulfing his fingertips like candle flames.

Edge kept still, waiting for the dregs of sleep to clear away. Long experience with his brother’s occasional bad turns at night had taught him that while his HP could easily survive an attack, the guilt that followed was always so much worse.

Sure enough, recognition slowly filled Stretch’s gaze, followed almost immediately by horror. Stretch sank back against the wall with a heartfelt groan, the flames of his magic extinguishing as he buried his face into his hands. "fuck, i am so sorry."

"If I don't need to thank you for all you’ve done, then you don't owe me any apologies for this. Come here?" Edge held his arms open in gentle offering and after a moment, Stretch did, crawling back into his arms. His bones were chilled, clacking against Edge's as he shivered, and Edge tucked the blankets back around them both.

"There we are," Edge said, as softly as he would have to Snow. He set his chin on the top of Stretch’s skull, careful not to let it dig in painfully. "Was it a bad dream?"

"more like a memory." Stretch shifted against him, his cheekbone pressed to Edge's sternum. He did not look up as he asked softly. "do you remember anything about the lab?"

"Only from recently,” Edge admitted, “not as a child. My brother doesn't talk about it much, but I do know I wasn't there for more than a couple days before he fled with me in tow."

"yeah." Stretch said nothing else, no commiseration, and Edge did not ask it of him. He didn't need to press for an unneeded explanation, not when the answer was so obvious. Memory dredged up by those numbers on one of Snow's fragile ribs, engraved too deeply to easily heal. He only held Stretch close, petting from the back of his skull down his cervical vertebra with gentle fingertips as those bone-deep shudders slowly eased.

Petting shifted to a careful massage, rubbing at the delicate cartilage between the spinal joints until all the tension wound through Stretch faded, leaving him as boneless against Edge as a skeleton could manage. He sighed, his warm breath gusting humidly over Edge’s collarbone, and his long limbs wound around Edge in a bony sort of cage, loosely holding on.

Edge was drowsing himself, his stroking gone idle, when Stretch spoke again in a low, barely audible mumble that Edge nevertheless heard very clearly, snapping awake as his soul began to pound in his ribcage. Couched on an exhale, three words that were so complex in their very simplicity.

“hnnnn,” Stretch sighed out, “i love you.”

There in the darkness, Edge lay with wide sockets staring up at the ceiling as every thought of sleep fled to the corners of his mind, leaving it utterly empty. Obviously, such a declaration required a response, and yet his thoughts were a panicked blank, his hands still on Stretch and surely he was already regretting saying such a thing, surely he was rethinking his choice as Edge only lay here like a useless fool, unable to reply.

“Stretch,” Edge choked out, faltering, and before he could manage to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth came an unexpected reply. A faint snore that rumbled through them both as Stretch snuggled in closer, his sockets closed in sleep.

Edge almost sagged in relief, letting out a slow, shaky breath. But he knew the reprieve was a brief one. That declaration would come again, he should have already been expecting it, and he would need a ready reply.

He wasn’t fool enough not to know what reply Stretch wanted. He just wasn’t sure it was one he was able to give and what consequences would come if he couldn’t? Their place here was so precarious despite what the Swap brothers said, they couldn’t be expected to stay here if there was resentment between them. Snow needed a safe home, free of arguments and snide verbal attacks and Edge meant to see she had one. No matter what it cost him.

tbc

[eldritch-elrics]

svsss: binghe callout party + the system’s punishment

so much happened in these chapters oh my god. i can’t believe i’m on chap 74 of 81

tldr: sqq needs to stop procrastinating on his sexuality crisis, also yay for cqms protecting its own but oh no for binghe discovering the truth about his parents, also COOL system penalty. oh and fake internet drama my beloved

zzl my poor, poor boy. i hate that he killed gongyi xiao but :((( he’s trying so hard to be nice to sqq!!! sqq’s making it so hard for him!

it’s also really interesting how fixated on repaying debts/revenges he is. i know it’s demon culture being different from human culture but i am going hmm… neurodivergence momence….

tlj, completely unprompted, once again: huh, so sqq likes threesomes does he? very interesting…

sqq saying he trusts binghe <3

seems like sqq believes binghe will change. i also believe in him! though seeing what lbh’s been like, we’ll see how fast that change happens lol.

sqq also says later that most of the tension between him and lbh has been a misunderstanding, which… yeah that’s fair enough. but sqq is very much at fault for a lot of that misunderstanding! because he is (or used to be, at least) shit at communication! at least he’s been taking responsibility

always astounded by how much effort liu qingge goes through to rescue sqq, whether that’s just his body or his actual person. sqq is really just drowning in men who want to do things for him

sqh confessing everything and babbling at lqg <3 and oh my god he fought mobei-jun?

binghe: only two rooms thanks :3 i don’t have money for more :3

liu qingge: i’ll fucking kill you

i really do want to see the scene of lbh and lqg trying to share a room. i was hoping maybe they would do some enemies-to-friends bro bonding but it seems like it’s too early for that… grudges like that can’t be fixed in one night...

we’re almost at chapter 70 and sqq still thinks he’s straight.

funny that the system says it needs to save resources? that feels like a bad excuse. there’s never been a problem like that before… and doesn’t it make sense for the system to just have infinite resources? i’m very interested in this statement. maybe it’s just bluffing to make itself seem less powerful than it is / delay sqq’s gratification

the fact that it’s not giving him any new coolness points is probably a good thing, since he spends all of them a couple chapters later. maybe sqq will gain back all those he lost in a rush at the end of the month

SQQ IS SO EMOTIONAL ABOUT GETTING HIS FAN BACK I LOVE HIM

binghe serving him breakfast waaaa

as far as i recall, binghe’s the only one who’s been able to make the system give sqq prompts with multiple-choice answers. protagonist power! one more piece of evidence for the idea that lbh’s subconscious is what influences the system most

lqg kicking doors down is so normal that sqq doesn’t react

poor zzl for the dozenth time: gets used as a seat cushion :(

this entire next part is just Hurting Binghe Hours

this scene felt super mdzs. it’s like… stirring up a giant crowd against someone, with the intention of ruining their reputation? reminiscent of jinlan city too of course but that theme of reputation is so central to mdzs that it made me think. also the whole thing about lbh being a bastard/otherwise outside the cultivation world norm... hmm.....

“tianlang-jun is not my father. i don’t need a father.”

fucks me up…

lqg and yqy: *knocks ten angry cultivators away from sqq* oops my hand slipped

lbh ran away… bingqiu separated once more :(

ohhhhh my god the system penalty. i had totally forgot about the whole “sending him back to his original world” thing but i’m so glad it got brought up again. all the peak lords must be worried sick haha... hopefully he’ll wake up in his bed in qing jing peak or something later and it’ll all be ok

meeting og!lbh… god i got chills. that part was so good

i can’t help but notice he lost his right arm and left leg….. just like edward elric……

that’s such a good system punishment tbh like.. it’s not sending him back to HIS original world, but it’s sort of like sending him to sqq’s original world, for just a few minutes…

yay meng mo saved him!

not surprised at how bad shen jiu’s situation was. i will have to read more about it later!!

i’m so close to the end holy shit. i expect we’ll get some more bingqiu development soon but it’s so funny that sqq hasn’t even realized he’s not straight, let alone that he likes lbh! i guess this novel is really their getting-together story more than anything (we’ve got the extras for established relationship stuff) but i feel like there’s still so much left to resolve!

speaking of extras… there’s an extra chapter plopped right in the middle here? thanks mxtx lol

ok my take is: reading fake internet drama is so FUCKING funny

i do not know anything about chinese webnovel internet culture but this scene still rings so true to me… people on web forums just be like that huh

airplane is so excited about all the arguing sjkdhsjd

the fact that peerless cucumber is labeled an expert.

peerless cucumber up in here with his fantastic takes like “the monsters are so much more interesting than the endless wives” and “the only good bit is binghe’s arc”

the person who comments “cucumber bro wrote so many words just to hate on it, must be true love”

the person who comments “hey guys wanna read my bingqiu slash”

the handful of comments that are like “the romance between binghe and the women is terrible but the relationships he has with the male characters are emotional and moving” just go to solidify my “airplane is gay and knows jack shit about women” theory

again, araki jojo vibes

what a way to die, airplane

and he was thinking of sqq too! just like sqq was thinking about him when he died :) it’s fate!

[tayriclansupremacy]

Legendary comments my favourite streamer said while playing F1 2020

/NGL it was hard to translate from Hungarian but I hope you find this funny too/

1. Episode

Verstappen? 10 place grid penalty? What did you do son?

So Latifi, we are both rookies, I’ll push you a little to make it easier. 

Schumi, Schumi, calm down nicely. That will calm you down. (Mick)

Stay at home Gasly. STAY AT HOME!

OOPS, hello Hamilton. BYE!

The two Mercedes sucked well, I like this game. 

What a podium bro: Leclerc, Albon, Ocon.

The money kid dumped me! (Stroll)

We’ll let Magnussen go a little. Just a little. 

COME ON MAGNUSSEN! Don’t hold me up!

Let me snatch your Australian cheek! 

Quite so Ricciardo, smile now!

No, no! Leave some space, don’t be Hamilton! (Ricciardo)

I will push you, you Australian!

I STICK TO YOUR ASS! (Ricciardo)

You son of an Italian bish! Look at that spaghetti eater. (Giovinazzi)

GET OUT OF HERE PEREZ!

I’M HERE IN YOUR ASS! (Perez)

Stroll again, get the fuck outta here!

[waezi2]

Re-reading Yu-Gi-Oh (part 2)

Re-reading the first Yugioh manga makes me realize that Yugi is more or less a magnet for violence.

It seems like no matter where Yugi goes, insane people arrives to beat the ever loving shit out of him and his friends or in general make their life problematic.

But I honestly think it it the puzzle’s fault. The spirit inside the puzzle punish evil, so I believe the puzzle attracts these evil SAOBs so that they can be punished by Yami.

And boy oh boy do they get punished! Each punishment is more wild than the other. They make Mind Crush seem tame! When Yami is not using his dark power to curse them, he burns them to death. TRICE!

This is probably my favorite Penalty Game:

A guy who forces people to go to his private rock concerts with threats of violence get’s punished to listen to his own heart. His heart beats so loudly that the noise is driving him insane. That’s fucked up!

Another thing I like about the manga is how Yugi and Joey’s friendship is portraits.

They are teenage schoolboys, so they do the dumb shit teen boys do, like talk about porn tapes and eat burgers.

I’m not exactly thrilled about them watching porn, but it does sound like something two teen boys would do back in my day. But I think Yugi really needed Joey. Sure, he was friends with Tea, but he can do “guy stuff” with his new friend.

Speaking of friends, you might wonder how Tristan became one of Yugi’s friends. And it so happens that the chapter where Tristan became part of Yugi’s friend group is one of my favorite chapters... as well as a surprisingly not violent one.

Yugi doesn’t like Tristan at all since he bullied him way more than Joey did, like making him buy ecchi books for him and stuff. But he is Joey’s friend, so Yugi agrees to help Tristan.

One of the sad things about the manga becoming more card game centric is that Tea and Tristan don’t get a chance to shine as much. The author of the series is clearly very passionate about games and even made Tea and Tristan experts in their own fields. I like to say that Yugi is the strategist, Joey is an expert gambler, Tea is the master of rhythm and Tristan has a talent when it comes to games that includes aim.

But Tristan is also the hopeless romantic of the team. And that’s what he needs help with.

Tristan has fallen in love with a girl from the class called Miho, or “Ribbon-Chan” among friends. Poor Tristan is crazy about her despite them having nothing in common(Miho is a bookworm and on the library committee, Tristan is a bad tempered moron). But Tristan has no idea what to do to show her how much he likes her. That’s why Joey asks Yugi for help since his grandpa owns a funny store with a ton of games.

And Grandpa has just the thing. In fact, it is one of the most romantic things I have ever seen!

That’s right, a love letter in jigsaw puzzle form. If that is not romantic, I don’t know what is!

... Unless the person you give it to sucks at puzzles, then she will never know how you feel about her.

Tristan can’t write a proper love declaration, so he asks Yugi to do it for him. Joey then places the puzzle in Miho’s school desk so she can find it.

So... where is the evil douchebag that makes life difficult for Yugi and friends?

Chouno is a teacher who is famous for two things. First of all that she uses a ton of makeup. Secondly... that she is quite diabolical.

Chouno enjoys using her authority to dominate the students completely and expel them whenever she gets the chance. And she dates men in her free time just to give them false hopes and then crush them by rejecting them in the harshest way possible.

So it is bad timing that she choses this day to force the student to empty their bags and desks so she can see if they have something they are not allowed to bring to school. Japanese schools can be very strict, some schools have rules about students not being allowed to flirt with each other.

Chouno finds the gift at Miho’s desk and begins to put the pieces together in front of the students and reads the love letter out loud. Poor Miho is completely humiliated in class. Chouno demands to know who gave Miho the puzzle so she can throw the student out of school for inappropriate behavior.

And we then get the ultimate bro moment.

Jep, Yugi and Joey are ready to take them blame. And Tristan won’t let them do it. What makes this moment even more beautiful is that they are all three technically telling the truth since Yugi wrote on the puzzle, Joey was the one placing it on Miho’s desk and the message really is what Tristan feels.

But Chouno is unimpressed by this trio of loyalty. She has yet to complete the puzzle and she knows that by completing it, she will learn the name of the person who gave Miho the puzzle.

... Okay, I’m sorry to nitpick, but as a jigsaw puzzle enthusiast, I find it unlikely that she would lay it like that. I get it is for the drama and so she doesn’t know the name of the person who gave Miho the puzzle, but most people do the “frame” part of a puzzle first.

Just saying.

As Chouno is about to finish the puzzle, Yami steps in. This is the first time he punish someone indirectly. He curses the puzzle so that if someone tries to harm others by revealing their secrets, their secrets will be revealed.

So before Chouno can yell Tristan’s name, her makeup is transformed into jigsaw puzzle pieces that falls of her skin and her true face is revealed.

... And she looks as insane on the outside as she is on the inside.

Chouno runs away from the school, meaning Tristan is saved. Later, Tristan goes to Miho in private and confesses.

But she unfortunately just doesn’t like him that way. Joey and Yugi invites the heartbroken Tristan to go out and eat burgers, officially making him Yugi’s third friend.

That’s all for this time. Next I will take a look at Kaiba’s debut.

I’m Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

[allthatglittersisnotgoldrush]

Author Interview: Victoryindeath2 (by Mythopoeia

Thank you @abadpoetwithdreams! I hope you don't regret the last question you asked :D

1. You are responsible for creating the characters of Frog and Sticks! What canon Silm event are you most excited to see from their child perspectives?

Soooo many things—but I am interested to see how they will feel when Mae is back on his feet, a warrior more deadly with his left than he even was with his right, the sort of man who can in canon create the Union of Maedhros. The children have seen Maedhros at his lowest, seen him tormented and crushed into the earth in the cruelest of ways. They also saw how he could be his best even when there was no hope or light for him—he protected them and was kind to them and loved them. I am just interested to see how other men’s and women’s opinions might change as Maedhros moves into the next phase of his life, and how the children will, in some ways, always see Maedhros as their Russandol.

Sticks: yeah I knew he was cool before you all realized it

Frog: *drops a rock in Mae’s left hand and curls up in his lap* tell me and my pet rock a story Mae

Mae: I actually have leadership things to do....

Sticks: you owe us for all the stories you didn’t tell us back in the Bad Place

Mae: *tells them a story and Fingon finds the kids sleeping under Mae’s arms twenty minutes later*

(There is also a non-canon event sometime in the future that I want so VERY badly but guess I can’t say because of spoilers *sighs*)

2. We often joke about how this AU is basically our own crazy version of a Silm tv series. What are some of favourite moments in the series so far that stand out to you as particularly cinematic?

There are so many moments, some of the wondrous and stunning variety, and some of the quiet and beautiful....but here are a few that leapt right to my mind:

a. Maedhros and Fingon parting the last time before Feanor divided the families almost forever! Maedhros with his hair in the sunlight on his horse and the line, “see you on the other side, cano!”

b. Gosh DARN it Mae on the cliff, with Morgoth offering him the chance to leap to his death, and he doesn’t take it *cries*

c. FINGON’S CHILD OF THE WOLF MOMENT WHERE HE TAKES MAIRON OUT (ALSO RIGHT BEFORE WHEN MAE GRABS AT HIS ANKLE AND TRIES TO GET FINGON TO SAVE HIMSELF)

d. Maedhros riding into the thrall camp and basically falling into Gwindor and SLINGING AN ARM AROUND HIS NECK YES HUGS ALL AROUND YESSSS

e. Look Ceili fic I know we talk about it all the time but I am here to talk about it again, especially the moment where Mae pulls Caranthir out on the dance floor and then they all dance together and everyone ends up in a pile on the floor except for Mae who just stands over them all laughing I think doubled over and there is so much good energy in that scene I NEED IT ON SCREEN

f. Personally I like to think that Celegorm stalking his way into a club in New York City and beating the living daylights out of Eol was cinematic

g. Maedhros having successfully argued Huan’s way into the journey west, stumbling all tired like up to the stairs, and meeting Nerdanel there, and resting his head on his mom’s neck. The darling tol bby

h. MAE ATTACKING ULFANG FOR THE SAKE OF HIS BROS, GOING FROM DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE TO DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE BUT STILL WILL FIGHT FOR HIS BROS

i. Bby Mae lying on Feanor’s chest ;;;;;;;;;;; before Feanor became the worst

j. Can’t even remember what fic it was at this point but there is a dream? Mae has? Of like....the sea and red sun or something? It was a lot

k. There are many many more moments and I am mad that I can’t remember the one that stood out to me recently

l. ..........the whole fic Seven Card Stud

m. MOONLIGHT GUNSLINGER MAE AND HOW HE TOTALLY OUTCLASSED MAIRON

n. Every hug and brotp and found family moment ever. I have addictions and there is never enough of what I want on screen

o. THERE ARE MORE SPECIFIC ONES BUT I HAVE TO STOP AT SOME POINT DON’T I

3. Walk me through what an ideal day would look like for Caranthir?

The MOST ideal day would be Caranthir waking up in his little closet bedroom in Formenos and realizing he just had a horrible nightmare, and also realizing that he still has his mom and ALL of his brothers. And then at the breakfast table Feanor says something like “wow I’ve been stupid in a good many ways, and a rotten dad because of that, good thing I have recognized my flaws and shall now be a better person, also Mae you can stop going to live in the city if you want, just stay here with your brothers. Also you know, Caranthir, even though you’re still my least favorite child, I’m proud of you. And not just because these are the best pancakes I have ever tasted.”

Then Caranthir probably helps his mom in the garden, gets some quality one on one time with Mae when Mae helps him make a pie, Mae reminds him how special and good he thinks Caranthir is, and Celegorm and Curufin ask Caranthir to join them for fishing. Not that Caranthir necessarily wants to do that, but he does want to be asked. Then Amras and Amrod ask him to help them with sums, so that he feels like a helpful big brother, and without being asked, Maglor takes out his fiddle and plays the slow-moving, peaceful song that Caranthir loves and Maglor despises because it is not challenging enough

4. What is a character POV you have not written yet about but would like to?

I would like to write something from Maeglin’s POV—I feel a powerful urge to protect that lost boy. He’s had an odd and often terrifying life and he needs a break. Good grief imagine having a mom like his mom, imagine Morgoth commanding you to call him uncle. Ew. Anyway, he’s exactly the sort of character I usually adopt as my son. An angsty sad boy without much future, who needs LOVE

5. If you could recommend only one fic from each author (including yourself, of course) what would they be?

HOW TO PICK?!

TolkienGirl: wayyyyy too many to really choose from but I have to go back to the beginning and say “news, breaking” because of the way it introduces my Feanorian boys, and also because of Mae wearing a flowered apron one minute and then a half open leather vest the next, with his glorious hair tied back!

Mythopoeia: I feel like I have to say “those gathered beneath” because it was so DEFINITIVE of our favorite Irish family, and also Turgon is a great narrator (but since I always talk about this fic I shall also add another, lesser known perhaps: “save ourselves unaided” because it introduces Haleth and more people need to appreciate Haleth and Mythopoeia’s Haleth is SO GOOD)

Victoryindeath2: “a certain slant of light (where the meanings are)” because it was my first Caranthir fic, and so it holds a special place in my heart

Bonus Q: The Feanorians are now a KPop group. What are their hair colors and roles?

THE WAY I CHOKED ON MY LAUGHTER WHEN I FIRST READ THIS QUESTION

I ALSO GOT WAY TOO CAUGHT UP IN THIS SO IF YOU ARE AN AU READER WHO DOESN’T CARE ABOUT KPOP IN ANY WAY YOU CAN STOP HERE, I WON’T BE MAD. On the other hand I think I have really good answers so maybe you should continue lol

Maedhros: He has to be a coppery red-head, doesn’t he? Maybe something of the red color that you once told me you wanted Heeseung to try. He would make a great leader, but ALSO. Also I think that he has had enough stress in canon in and in our AU, so I really just want to give him the opportunity to be merely the eldest hyung, who everyone goes to for comfort, for hugs and advice, and who supports the leader quietly. He is a good vocalist and can maybe rap in a pinch? but we put so much emphasis on him as a dancer that he HAS to be the dance leader. Obviously. Is widely acknowledged as the visual of the group

Maglor: Longish black hair, maybe midnight blue or deep purple. Has tried several different hairstyles and regretted half of them. He claims a specific aesthetic in hair and dress is necessary for him to compose the group’s songs, and while he gets teased by everyone for this he also writes amazing music so? It works? Is definitely a vocalist. His vlives consist of him playing every instrument known to man, and half the time Mae is sitting in the background listening with an awed expression on his face—till he falls asleep. Maglor can’t decide if he is pleased by this or insulted

Celegorm: Usually rocks blond or silver hair, but one time some fool insulted Amrod’s pink hair and the next thing you know Celegorm had pink hair for three months. Probably disparaged Maglor’s mullet phase but tried it once himself as a penalty for a game in a Run Feanorian episode and kinda thought it wasn’t half bad.

Celegorm is the “I don’t follow what the company says” member, “screw the rules if they aren’t good for my fam.” He is also a sick rapper and his diss tracks and mixtapes are things of beauty. He also clearly frequents the gym and will toss an annoyed member—most likely Maglor, but sometimes Curufin—over his shoulder any chance he can get. Has definitely done pushups with Amrod or Amras on his back. He and Mae swept the ISAC games

Caranthir: Typically goes with brown/black hair, which only throws the fandom into more of an uproar when the rare occasion arises in which he actually dyes it some other color. Probably went mint for a music video and Curufin started calling him mint choco boy, which offends him deeply as he is (sadly) on the side of “mint chocolate ice cream tastes like toothpaste.” He’s a vocalist with a rougher voice that is surprisingly pleasing to listen too.

Speaking of surprises, Caranthir never quite understands his own popularity. He didn’t like to do vlives by himself for ages, until Mae encouraged him to do cooking and baking vlives, and now he does one once a month on a schedule. Fans are putting together a book of his recipes

Curufin: He does intense and striking hairstyles and colors, and is probably the most likely to do black hair streaked through with red, teal, green, gold, white, etc. He claims to be the visual of the group and Mae is the one member who always agrees with him. I’d say he is also a dancer, one almost as good as Mae but with a different style, and he has a quick and sharp rap. He is heavily involved in the production of their songs over time.

Here is the thing though—I think, in this better non-canon non-Gold Rush AU universe, that Curufin could be the leader. See, Feanor is not gonna be the company CEO loll. Fingolfin is. And Fingolfin mentors better than Feanor EVER could. And Curufin is a sharp lad, very smart and crafty, and if he could just be convinced to care about all his brothers/group members like he does about himself and Celegorm in the AU, and if he just has proper guidance, allowing Mae to assist him in struggles, going to him for support, I think he would be an excellent leader

Ambarussa: Amras and Amrod have tried every color and color combination under the SUN, and they often coordinate with each other either to match or complement. Amras sometimes gets tired of this, preferring to stick to the general group color scheme, and when that happens Amrod just says fine be like that and goes off and does his own thing. Sooner or later though, Amras always gives in and joins him once again.

The twins obviously have all their hyungs wrapped around their little fingers, even Maglor who is driven insane by them crashing into his room shrieking and giggling when he is trying to write music or run a very serious vlive. As far as their musical talents go, I love when maknaes are ridiculously well-rounded, and these are Feanorian maknaes, so I’m gonna say they can both dance, sing, and rap. People have placed bets on whether they will grow as tall as Mae (spoilers, they won’t, no one ever will, he’s the tallest in Kpop world)

Huan: is the team mascot, and lives in their large dorm with them because Celegorm said so

Anddd that’s all folks

[everybodyscupoftea]

idk you yet: come hang out

reggie peters x oc

you’re working so damn hard, you forgot what you like

November

The problem with Reggie not telling the boys he had date plans was that, though they were on a brief touring break, Luke wanted them to stay busy. Every time he sat down to text William, Luke popped up with, “Hey, you ready to work on stuff for our next album.”

Normally he loved the work ethic. It was easy to get into Luke’s excitement and to write with him. Luke was incredibly creative and loved immediate feedback from his band members while also respecting their suggestions.

But when he just wanted a break to head back to San Jose to see William, it just didn’t seem like it would happen. The best possible outcome would be that he gets so much stuff done at the beginning of the month that Reggie would have more time for their tentatively scheduled date.

Wanna facetime?

Reggie smiled at the text and looked around their shared apartment. He knew Luke and Alex were home, in their room, and he was pretty sure Bobby was out, so it seemed unlikely that they’d actually want to work on anything without him.

Sure

Walking over to his room, Reggie collapsed onto his bed, smiling brightly as he answered the call. A tired looking William filled his screen and an ache in his chest that he didn’t realize was there was soothed.

“Hey, Reg.”

“Hey, Will, what’s up?”

William hummed, “Nothing much. About to nap before our game tonight, but I missed you.”

“Aw,” Reggie teased, “I’m more important than sleep.”

“Absolutely,” William told him earnestly.

It shocked Reggie into silence a few seconds before he managed to stutter out, “Well, I just hope it doesn’t throw your game off today.”

“You’re watching right?”

Squinting at his phone, Reggie slowly answered, “Yeah. I haven’t missed one yet.”

“I know, I just wanted to make sure. Hockey isn’t exactly your first choice to watch.”

His voice sounded a little timid, and Reggie bit his lip, “I mean I won’t watch any other teams, but I love watching you play.”

“That’s good to know,” William laughed, “can’t have the boy I like being a Kings fan.”

Reggie played dumb, “The Kings?”

“Oh hush, I know you know who they are.”

“I do, I was just trying to make you feel better.”

William laughed again, head tossed back, “Well you succeeded. My ego is sufficiently inflated.”

“Good. Hopefully you carry that on the ice tonight.”

“Always do.”

His eyes were starting to flutter a bit and Reggie smiled at the almost adorable sight. William flinched and shook himself awake with a loud yawn, so Reggie told him, “I’ll let you get some sleep. Talk to you tonight?”

“Yeah, definitely. Counting down the days until you get here.”

“I can’t wait either.”

William hung up a few seconds later, and Reggie got off his bed. Maybe, he thought to himself, he should start planning a date. Sure, William knew more about San Jose, but he didn’t want William to do all the heavy lifting. Reggie was terrified he’d eventually get tired of being the only one putting in effort.

So, he grabbed one of his many notebooks from his bookshelf and his laptop to start googling date spots in San Jose. Reggie scrolled and checked reviews, taking notes on his favorite places for future dates if not the first.

Truthfully, he had no clue if William wanted to do something simple for the first date or do something fun. They talked a lot and had gotten to know each other pretty well already, which was usually the first date activity, so they could probably afford to actually do something if they wanted to.

Biting his lip, he stared at the page. Maybe there were too many options, it looked a bit all over the place. Flipping the page, he started grouping the ideas into activities, formal, and casual. It made him feel a bit better, more organized and easier to pitch to William.

By the time he finished, it was almost game time, so Reggie put on the Sharks pride shirt he’d bought at William’s recommendation and wandered back out to the kitchen. Grabbing some leftovers to heat up, Reggie flipped on the TV and turned to the channel that normally played Sharks games. 

Pre-game commentary started, and he sat on the couch to wait for the microwave to finish up. They were talking about some players that Reggie slightly recognized from William’s stories, and he pulled up the roster on his phone just as his food finished reheating.

Moving back over to the couch, Reggie pulled his feet up underneath him and scrolled through the roster while he waited for dinner to cool. He started matching names to faces, smiling when he heard them talking about William and his three game scoring streak.

“The Sharks got a good one in Harris. I know people talked about his devaluation after coming out, how it could cause problems in the locker room, but we haven’t seen much of that on the ice.”

Reggie grimaced at his words. William hadn’t really gone into depth about how his teammates treated him off the ice, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up in case it was a sensitive topic. He sighed as they moved on to talk about Joe Thornton, another name he recognized because Wiliam said that the older player had taken him under his wing his first year in the league.

“He’s the best,” he remembered William gushing, “let me stay at his house whenever I needed and really taught me how to survive. Being on the West Coast makes travel during the season brutal. Especially when you get to like January and February.”

Reggie heard the unspoken too, the older player had never given him any grief for his sexuality. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it had been for William to come out. Easier than hiding he guessed since William had done it in the first place. Reggie wasn’t sure even he was brave enough to do something like that in that toxic environment.

While he was lost in thought the game started, and he was startled out of his head when Luke threw the door to his room open. He looked at Reggie suspiciously, “You’re watching hockey again?”

“Yep,” Reggie answered, popping the p.

“Can I watch?”

Reggie was a bit surprised. Only Bobby had shown an ounce of interest, occasionally joining Reggie in watching despite being a Kings fan himself. After a few beats, Reggie answered, “Sure.”

“Sweet! My dad used to take me to hockey games when he wanted me to be an athlete. I couldn’t skate for shit though.”

Reggie snorted, he’d seen Luke’s coordination, so he could believe it. He elbowed Luke who dropped down on the couch next to him, “If they didn’t give gays a weakness, we’d be too powerful.”

Luke laughed loudly, “You’re so right.”

The two boys lapsed into silence as the game picked back up, broken every so often by Reggie making noises in reaction to what was going on in the game. He could feel Luke looking at him in amusement every so often, and when first intermission started, he prepared himself, “What’s up Luke?”

“I need, like, so many explanations.”

Reggie sat up and turned to face him, “Okay, yeah, ask away. I don’t know everything but I know a good bit.”

Luke hummed, “Maybe I should start with the obvious, um, who’s playing?”

“It’s the San Jose Sharks and the Arizona Coyotes.” “Okay,” Luke nodded, holding up two fingers, “who is better?”

“Sharks by far,” Reggie answered confidently.

Luke asked more questions, mostly about penalties and positions, and Reggie, much to his surprise, had an answer to every question. By the end, Luke looked much more relaxed and he leaned back further into the couch, “You really know your shit,” he commended.

“It’s a new interest,” Reggie admitted.

Bobby walked out of his room just as the second period started and stared at the two boys on the couch incredulously. Before Reggie could ask how long he’d been home, Bobby spoke, “I’ve been trying to get you boys to watch sports with me for years. What the hell is going on?”

“We’re multifaceted,” Reggie spoke, chin tilted up, lips quirked up into a teasing smile. 

Bobby snorted and shook his head, “Sure you are.” Sitting down on the other side of Reggie on the couch, he stretched out, “Who are we going for?”

Reggie motioned toward his shirt and Bobby gagged, “But the Kings, bro.”

“Choke,” Reggie deadpanned, and then more teasingly continued, “but you’re straight, I don’t expect you to understand.”

Bobby laughed, throwing his head back against the couch, used to the teasing. He turned his head to look at Reggie, “Fair enough, I suppose I can’t prove you wrong.”

“Never wrong, not once.”

Luke snorted, “I’m sure.”

But instead of responding, Reggie focused back on the TV stubbornly. He didn’t want to miss in case William scored a goal. Reggie would say in case he did something impressive, but in Reggie’s humble opinion, everything William did on the ice was impressive.

“So who’s your favorite player?” Bobby asked, eyes still trained on the TV as the Sharks got a breakaway, three on one.

Reggie leaned forward, hands over his mouth in anticipation, and when William received the drop pass and took a shot, it flew past the goalie, straight in the back of the net. Jumping up, Reggie let out a loud yelp of excitement and immediately went for his phone to send William an excited text for his first goal of the season.

“Harris, huh?” Luke asked and Reggie startled, having temporarily forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room.

Reggie clicked his tongue, “Yep. He’s really good.”

“You know, his story is actually pretty cool,” Bobby leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “how he came out and stuff.”

Nodding eagerly, Reggie grabbed his shoulder and shook him a little, “Yes, that’s why I like him!” He paused and then added, “Well, one of the reasons.”

“Wait, what?” Luke asked, looking back and forth between the two of them, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Google it,” Bobby and Reggie said in unison, fist bumping at Luke’s wounded look.

Reggie took pity on him first, sitting back in between them before slinging an arm around Luke’s shoulder to pull him into his side, “Seriously though, look into it.”

The rest of the game was fairly relaxed. Luke got into it once he started figuring things out, halfway through the second period, and Bobby very reluctantly cheered for the Sharks with them. When Reggie smirked at him, he shrugged, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“Damn right.”

-

William was laying in bed, Luna burrowed comfortably into his side, when his phone started ringing. Shutting his eyes, he sighed, exhausted, and picked it up after a few seconds. When he saw who it was, his mood immediately flipped, and he answered Reggie’s FaceTime request without hesitation.

“Nice goal,” Reggie told him in lieu of a proper greeting.

William beamed, rubbing his eyes a few times before sitting up all the way to answer, “Thanks, Reg.”

The other boy hummed before making a noise and pulling the phone away from his face, “Look, the shirt you recommended came in!”

Squinting, William looked at it, the black shirt with a rainbow Sharks logo, and for some reason, unbeknownst to him, his eyes started to burn. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking softly, “I love it.”

“Me too,” Reggie smiled, cheeks reddening a bit. William wanted nothing more than to pinch them, he liked when Reggie blushed because it made him look softer. 

Unable to stop himself, William blurted, “When are you coming?”

“Next week, remember?” Reggie gently reminded him, settling back against his pillow.

William pouted and Luna finally got curious enough to pop her head into view. Not acknowledging it, he told Reggie, “Can’t you come early?”

Reggie sighed, rubbing at his eyes, looking more tired than William had ever seen him, except for maybe the first time they met, “I’d love to, but Luke has been in a writing frenzy. We have daily writing sessions and I’m sure he wants to start rehearsing soon. We’re going to start recording some before we go back on tour.”

“When do you go back on tour?” William was pretty sure he’d never mentioned it, not that he remembered at least.

Reggie hummed, clicking away from FaceTime to check his calendar, and when he came back, answered, “Mid-January. We did a lot of the East Coast and West Coast and a good bit of the Midwest so we still have to hit the South and the middle of the country.”

“How far South?” William asked, curious as to what their reach actually was.

Shrugging, Reggie tapped at his bottom lip in thought, “I think probably New Orleans.”

“New Orleans sounds fun,” William offered.

“Mhmm,” Reggie hummed. He was staring at William, and William felt his head tip to the side and his eyes start to get heavier. Reggie laughed softly, “Tired?”

“Little bit,” William confirmed, yawning.

“Get some sleep.”

William nodded, “Good idea. You too.”

“I will,” Reggie promised, crossing his heart with a faux serious look on his face.

“Good,” William answered, grinning tiredly before they said their goodbyes and hung up for the night. Luna let out a huff and laid back down next to him, and William wrapped his arms around her, trying desperately to squash the sudden loneliness resting heavy on his chest.

“Soon,” he whispered.

-

Reggie left early on a Tuesday morning and caught a flight from LAX to the airport in San Jose. William texted him before he left, promising to pick him up after practice, and by the time Reggie landed, he was practically vibrating with both nerves and excitement. 

I’m outside in the pickup lane! 

Reggie sped up, a bounce in his step, and walked along the line of cars, looking for William. He was toward the back, looking down at his phone, and Reggie knocked on the window, shivering at the gust of wind that hit him.

William jumped at first, startled by his sudden appearance, before he unlocked the door for Reggie to climb in with his carry on. Reggie bit his lip, toning down the wide smile that was threatening to stretch ear to ear, “Hi.”

“Hi,” William responded, just as quietly. His cheeks were tinged red and his smile was more shy than Reggie’s, but he loved it just the same. 

Reggie’s fingers itched to reach up and brush the curl of hair hanging down in his eyes out of the way, but he held back, unsure if he was allowed to. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like William’s fingers twitched too. 

“Ready?”

Taking a deep breath, Reggie nodded, “Absolutely.”

-

William knew he probably should’ve focused fully on the road, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Reggie frequently. Just seeing him, knowing that he was real and there was so comforting, and part of William was already dreading Reggie having to leave the next day.

Reggie was staring out the window, forehead leaning against it, and William wanted to touch. He wanted to hold his hand or touch his cheek or something, just to reassure himself that he was real.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead.

Reggie hummed, “A little. I could start with a coffee.”

“Me too,” William admitted, changing lanes to head toward his favorite local shop a few miles from his apartment. When he parked, William looked over at Reggie, more uncertain than before, and asked, “I go to this shop pretty frequently, it’s really lowkey and no one will bother us.”

Reaching across the console, Reggie squeezed his shoulder, “I trust you.”

William was nervous, and he wasn’t exactly sure why, but as they walked down the sidewalk, hands occasionally brushing between them, he felt his heart pounding harder and harder with every touch. When they got to the door, William held it open, and Reggie stepped into the mostly empty shop.

A barista William recognized called out a greeting, and Reggie stepped aside to let him lead the way to the counter. The menu was relatively basic aside from a side list of specialty drinks which was what William usually picked from. 

“Their special drinks are really good, I’ve tried most of them,” William muttered, shifting closer to Reggie so he could hear better.

“I might try the s’mores one,” Reggie answered, voice equally muted, “the toasted marshmallow sounds fun.”

“It is,” William told him excitedly.

He ordered his drink and stepped aside to let Reggie order his. Something flickered into the barista’s eye, William wasn’t sure exactly if it was recognition, but she didn’t say anything either way. Reggie picked the table, a two-seater tucked away in the corner, and sat down facing the door.

“So,” he started when William sat across from him, “I did some research on date places in San Jose.”

A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat, but William shoved it back down and croaked out, “What?”

“Yeah, I picked out a ton of restaurants that look really good and offer a lot of options for any dietary restrictions you might have. And then for activities I have them grouped into casual and formal and you can pick.”

William stared at him, slack jawed, stare only broken when the barista set their drinks down in between them with a soft, “Enjoy.”

A blush was rising on Reggie’s cheeks, “I would love some feedback.”

Shaking his head, William laughed, “Yeah, that’s all fantastic, but I’ve lived here for years and have never gotten to bring someone on a date, I’ve got so many ideas of my own.”

Reggie sighed, “I don’t want you to do all the heavy lifting, I want to make this equal.”

William furrowed his eyebrows, setting down the latte he’d just taken a sip of, “I invited you here, I didn’t really expect you to worry too much about this part.”

“Well,” Reggie laughed, “guess I did all this for nothing, huh?”

“Next time,” William spoke confidently, picking his drink back up.

Reggie’s eyebrows shot up, “Already assuming there’s going to be a second date before we even have the first one, huh? That’s very bold.”

He shrugged and told him honestly, “I think the first date is going to go great, and if it doesn’t, then we’ll just have to have a do-over. Second date either way.”

“Ah, an intellectual,” Reggie responded, “your reasoning skills are off the charts.”

“Well, I did go to college.”

Reggie held his hands up, “You’ve got me there.”

“My college education is short-lived, but it does exist,” William joked.

“Okay then, Mr. College Education, do you already have a plan?”

William held up his car keys and jingled them in his direction, “I sure do.”

Reggie stared at him for a few seconds and then shook his head, “Fine, I’ll let you have your little mysteries.”

“Thank you,” William said, reaching across the table to brush his fingers across the back of Reggie’s hand. He watched as Reggie’s pinky jumped, bumping his thumb, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying not to show just how fond he was of this boy he’d just met.

-

They spent the entire day on the couch watching movies. Luna was ecstatic to have people around all day, running around and barking until William managed to calm her down. After an hour or so, she fell asleep on the floor at their feet. Mid-afternoon, William broke out some snacks and Reggie laughed because they were vaguely healthy in a way he assumed was required for athletes but definitely not for musicians.  

It was calm, relaxing even, something Reggie hadn’t experienced in so long, maybe ever. His parents did nothing but fight growing up, and then he moved in with three other boys his age. Neither environment was very conducive for peace and quiet. But in William’s apartment, he felt himself nodding off a few times, feeling warm and safe.

“Reg,” William whispered, shaking his shoulder a bit later, and he jumped, not realizing he’d actually fallen asleep.

He rubbed his eyes and croaked out, “What time’s it?”

“About an hour and a half until our reservation.”

“Kay,” he muttered, prying himself off of the absurdly comfortable couch to go to the guest bedroom where his bag was. William had offered to share his bed, but Reggie decided that staying the night was maybe too fast already, so he declined. Thankfully, William didn’t seem to mind.

William moved further down the hall and into his room, Luna padding after him, and Reggie was snapped out of his trance when he heard the click of his door shutting. Shaking himself, Reggie pulled some of his clothes options out of his bag. None of the boys knew exactly where he was going, but the day before he left, they all sat on his bed and gave their strong opinions on his choices.

Eventually, after a few minutes of staring, he decided to mix their picks. William told him it wasn’t fancy and that he needed to dress warm, so Reggie picked the jeans Alex liked, the sweater Luke chose, and Bobby’s shoe pick.

“Hair,” he muttered under his breath, moving toward the ensuite after he was dressed. Reggie had been alive for over 20 years and he’d been dressing himself for over half of them, but he couldn’t help but wish his bandmates were there to help. It was as if they heard his wish, Alex FaceTimed him, Luke hanging over his shoulder with a bright smile on his face.

“Reggie,” Luke cheered when it connected fully, “show us the fit.”

He snorted and flipped the camera so they could see. Alex nodded, seemingly happy with his work, “Looking hot, Reginald. Is this a date?”

Clearing his throat, Reggie’s ears went hot and he shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Well if it is, leave your hair ungelled. It always looks super soft, and you look hot with that strand of hair falling on your forehead.”

Luke nodded enthusiastically, “True!”

“Thanks boys,” Reggie responded distractedly and set the phone down so he could use both hands on his hair. It was silent in the bathroom beyond the noises his friends occasionally made when they moved around or gave him instructions.

“So,” Luke started when Reggie sat on the bed, completely dressed and ready, “where are you?”

“I’m in California,” Reggie tried to deflect.

Alex made a hurt noise in his throat, “Why won’t you tell us?”

Reggie sighed and admitted, “It’s so new. It’s not really a secret, but part of me wants to keep it close until it’s real.”

“I’d say it’s pretty fucking real if you’re flying somewhere for a date.”

Tilting his head back against the wall, Reggie laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”

“When did you meet?” Luke asked, leaning in close to the camera as if trying to get in Reggie’s personal space through the camera.

“Last month on tour.” “A fan?” Alex asked, shocked. All of the boys had discussed the pros and cons of dating fans, and Reggie was stuck at a hard no when they finished the conversation.

Thinking back, he snorted, “Not really. He didn’t know who I was at first, but now he’s a fan.”

“Well,” Luke broke in, “Reg, you show that boy a good time. Don’t forget, you’re a catch and he’s lucky to have you tonight!”

“What Luke said,” Alex added, “and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Reggie rolled his eyes, responding sarcastically, “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” And just as he hung up there was a light knock at the door. He took a shaky breath and walked over, smoothing his sweater down, and when he opened the door, William’s fist was hovering in the air like he was about to knock again.

His mouth went dry looking at William, “Wow, um, you look great,” Reggie managed.

William’s face lit up and he glanced down at himself, “You think? Not as good as you, that’s for sure!”

Reggie struggled for a response, and William put him out of his misery, bumping Reggie’s hand with his and tilting his head toward the front door. Following William out of the building and into the parking garage, Reggie wanted to ask what he had planned, but he hadn’t managed to get it out of him all afternoon, so he stayed quiet.

“You want to pick the music?” William asked, holding out the aux cord and Reggie nodded, taking it eagerly. William nodded, “I want to hear what a music expert listens to.”

“Expert,” Reggie tested the word out on his tongue, “I guess technically out of the two of us, but I don’t know if I’d consider myself an expert.”

“I bet you have some fantastic playlists,” William countered, glancing over as he pulled to a stop at the first red light.

“Well,” Reggie paused because he did actually take a lot of pride in his playlists, “yeah, I think so at least.”

“There you go, own your awesomeness, Reg.”

When William said ‘reservations’ earlier, Reggie assumed it was at a restaurant for dinner, and he was incredibly confused when they pulled into an empty parking lot and William parked right near the door.

“What are we doing?”

“Tonight, since we’re in my city, I figured we could do something specific to me. Since we’re kind of still getting to know each other, you know?”

“Okay,” Reggie answered, unsure where he was going, “I like that idea.”

William sounded relieved, “Good. This is the rink my team usually practices in and I have the keys.”

“Skating?” Reggie asked, immediately nervous.

“Yep,” William chirped, pulling the door open for Reggie before reaching over to flip the lights on. It was cold inside and the lights came on slowly, one at a time across the rink. William grabbed his elbow gently, startling him, and tugged him off to the side.

“I don’t have skates,” Reggie finally spoke, realizing that one huge flaw in the plan may get him out of absolutely humiliating himself.

William waved his words away, “They do public skating nights here sometimes so they have spare pairs for rentals. Eventually we’ll have to get you your own pair.”

That sounded promising, on one hand, William was planning on keeping him around, on the other hand, he’d have to not accidentally crack his head open on the ice to fulfill his plans. But instead of protesting, Reggie was a good sport and told him his shoe size because William seemed really excited, and he didn’t want to spoil it.

“Be right back,” William told him, “I’m going to grab you a pair and get mine and put some music on. We can lace the skates up on the bench.”

“I’ll be right here,” Reggie responded weakly, stomach churning with nerves.

William wasn’t gone long before he was linking his arm with Reggie’s, pulling him again toward the closest bench. Reggie sat down, in a daze, moving slowly as William quickly tied his skates. Turning to Reggie, he saw that he had skates on but they were untied and he laughed, “Never done this before?”

“Hard no.”

“I got you,” William promised, dropping down to one knee in front of him. Reggie’s leg tingled when William brushed against it while he tied the laces. After the left one, he looked up at Reggie, “All good? Not too tight or too loose, right?”

“All good,” Reggie told him, reaching down instinctively just to check.

Before he knew it, the second one was finished too and William was standing in front of him, holding a hand out to help him up. He stepped onto the ice first, Reggie following close behind him, hovering just at the edge.

“I’m assuming you’ve never skated before.”

“You’d assume correctly.”

“Well,” William started, skating backwards a bit to give him space, “the good news is, you have the best teacher on the West Coast at your service.”

“He thinks highly of himself,” Reggie joked, taking a step out onto the ice, wobbling a bit. William kept his distance, close enough that he could get to Reggie fast, but far enough that he had room to get comfortable.

“Not to brag, but I am a professional.”

Reggie snorted and took another step, and then another and another. On his fifth step, he got too confident and almost landed right on his ass, but William swept in, catching him by the armpits, a few inches from the ice.

“Holy shit,” Reggie breathed, eyes wide.

William’s voice sounded like he was holding back laughter, “You good?”

Clearing his throat, Reggie collected himself and stepped away, “I’m good.”

William hovered around him closer after that, always within reach and coached Reggie every so often in a soft tone. It felt like years had passed, but Reggie eventually got comfortable enough to not be wobbling every few steps, and William moved up next to him for the next slow lap.

“Having fun?” he asked.

And Reggie found he actually was, he recognized the playlist and with William’s steady warmth next to him, keeping him safe, he didn’t hate it. After a few seconds with no answer, William bumped Reggie’s hand with the back of his to prompt a response. Reggie snapped out of it, “Yeah, this isn’t as hard as I thought it’d be.”

William’s lips twitched, “Sure, Reg. Whatever you say.”

They finished the lap, William still teasing him, and Reggie elbowed him in the side. William flinched like he’d actually landed a solid hit and pouted. Rolling his eyes, Reggie motioned toward him, “You’re being dramatic.”

“Never,” William responded, reaching up to grab Reggie’s hand, and when he linked their fingers together, any comeback Reggie had flew out of his brain. William didn’t say anything else either, content to skate laps with him, hands swinging between them.

Every so often one of them had a question or something to say, but for the most part it was just the music and the sound of skate blades on ice making noise. Reggie kind of understood why William liked it, it was almost hypnotizing, and he was startled when William tugged on his hand, pulling him back toward the bench.

Reggie gave him a questioning look and William smiled softly, pleased, “Playlist ended. I figure we could go get food now too.”

While Reggie was relieved to be back on solid ground again, he missed the comfortable weight of William’s hand in his. His hand felt cold, and he was trying really hard not to pout. Reggie managed to get the skates off by himself and handed them over to William to put away. 

“Be back in a sec,” William told him breathlessly, cheeks bright red whether from cold or something else, Reggie wasn’t sure, and before he could respond, William was gone.

-

William put the skates back and paused a second to breathe. He was in really good shape, but it felt like he hadn’t been able to catch his breath all night. Shutting his eyes, he smiled thinking back at Reggie’s nervous but determined face as he stepped out of William’s arms after almost falling to skate a few steps on his own.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “please relax,” he whispered, unsure if he was talking to his brain or his pounding heart. Reggie was looking down at his phone when William met him back out, and he gave William an assessing look. Not entirely sure what he was looking for, William slowly offered his hand back to the other boy, and a smile grew on his face as he took the offered hand.

“What’s for dinner?” Reggie asked, finger stroking over William’s knuckles subconsciously.

William waited to answer until they were both in the car, and he cranked it up, flipping the heat up to high for them. Reggie bumped his knee, and he answered, “I was thinking we could go to a taco truck I like. They have some tables outside, but we can take them home if it’s too cold.”

“Taco truck,” Reggie mused.

Cutting off the rest of his sentence, William rushed out, “We can go to a restaurant too though, I just thought since we’re both sort of public figures we might have less of a spotlight at a food truck.”

When William finished rambling his explanation, he met Reggie’s eyes nervously, and Reggie just smiled, “Sounds like a great pick.”

“Oh,” he said, not expecting it to be that easy.

“Oh,” Reggie echoed.

William blushed and muttered, “Shut up,” before pulling out of the parking lot. 

There were a few people ordering from the truck when they got there, but there was empty seating and someone had plugged in portable heaters for people who wanted to eat there. William waited for Reggie to order before he put his in and led him over to one of the empty tables to sit. 

Reggie looked around curiously and yawned, clapping a hand over his mouth and flushing with embarrassment when he caught himself. Laughing, William teased, “Am I boring you?”

“Actually, yes,” Reggie teased back.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I actually thought this was going pretty well.”

Reggie’s face softened and he reached across the table to poke William’s hand, “It is.”

One of the workers called his name with the food before William could respond, so he just shut his mouth and stood up to go get them. When he got back, the moment was gone, and they both focused on eating. The tacos were good as always, and within 30 minutes they were back in the car, heading back to William’s apartment.

“Movie?” he asked Reggie when they got back inside.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

William frowned, “Wait, I have to walk Luna first, you good to stay?”

“I should probably take a shower,” Reggie smiled wryly referencing the sweat he broke while struggling to skate.

“Okay,” William nodded, “I’ll be back soon. Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, Will.”

Before he could think twice, William grabbed Reggie’s sleeve and pulled him back, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

-

Reggie barely remembered getting to bed after the movie, but he definitely hated the next morning when his alarm started going off early. He hit snooze and was almost back asleep when William was knocking on the door gently, “You awake?”

“Yeah,” Reggie croaked, voice cracking from disuse.

“Okay,” William answered, “I’ll make some coffee while you get ready and I can drop you off before practice.”

Reggie was touched. He knew how tired William was all the time, and selfishly, he was glad William offered because he wanted to spend as much time as possible with him since he had no clue when he’d be able to see William in person again.

He got dressed and packed and remade the guest bed before he joined William in the kitchen. There were two mugs on the counter, one made up and one black for Reggie to fix how he liked. William watched through squinted eyes, chin resting on his palm, and told Reggie, “Gonna try and remember so next time I can have it ready.”

Reggie’s eyes burned and he took a sip of his fixed drink. Glancing over at William’s mug, he asked, “What about you?”

“Splash of almond milk and a lot of sugar.”

Tapping his temple, Reggie promised, “I’ll remember that.”

They finished their coffee like that, crowded together in the kitchen, William’s forehead resting on Reggie’s shoulder between sips. Halfway through his cup, Reggie linked his fingers through William’s again, both of their hands warm from holding the mugs. He was going to miss that more than he thought. Fuck, leaving was going to hurt. In fact, he wasn’t sure anything could hurt worse.

But he was wrong. When William pulled him into a tight hug outside the airport, he brushed his lips ever so slightly across Reggie’s forehead again, just like the night before. Walking away from that, fighting to not turn around lest he be tempted to skip his flight and never leave, that hurt more.

[calumcest]

if these walls could talk (they’ve seen way too many things)

[ao3]

before i begin i have to give two huge thank yous: firstly to @miguelclifford for beta-reading this fic, for her comments, ideas, motivation and general company/conversation over the past few days and also for writing that excellent malum fic the other day yes i’m still thinking about it this fic is completely indebted to you and your wonderful mind and secondly to @5sosnsfw for letting me scream in agony about this fic for the past 4 days because i just could not stop writing no matter how much i wanted it to END and for being so incredibly supportive of every single thing i do you are truly both such wonderful individuals and this is the first time in my life i’ve been glad i wrote That Fic because i would not have met u otherwise

-

The announcement comes late, at eight p.m., interrupting radio and TV broadcasts and flashing up on phone screens.

Due to the current pandemic, the state is now on mandatory lockdown for three weeks. All citizens have until midnight to return to their places of residence. Those outside after midnight will be subject to severe penalties. Further information to follow.

“You have to leave,” Ashton says. “You have to go.” Luke blinks. “They’re locking down the state.”

-

luke gets stuck at ashton's during lockdown

-4 hours 

The announcement comes late, at eight p.m., interrupting radio and TV broadcasts and flashing up on phone screens.

Due to the current pandemic, the state is now on mandatory lockdown for three weeks. All citizens have until midnight to return to their places of residence. Those outside after midnight will be subject to severe penalties. Further information to follow.

Ashton sees it when his phone lights up obnoxiously, distracting him from the song he’s halfway through perfecting on drums. He picks it up, annoyed, intending to turn it around so it can’t distract him anymore, but the notification catches his eye. 

“Shit,” he says, reading the notification a second and third time, just to make sure. “Shit, shit- Luke!” He scrambles to his feet, throwing his drumsticks onto the floor with a loud clatter,  taking the stairs back up to the ground floor two at a time, clutching his phone. “Luke!”

“Yeah?” Luke’s voice is muffled by walls, but Ashton can hear it’s coming from the living room, so he slams open the door, wincing a little at the sound the handle makes when it hits the wall. Luke, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Star Wars playing on the TV, throws him a look of surprise at the urgency clearly written all over Ashton’s face. 

“You have to leave,” Ashton says. “You have to go.” Luke blinks, and Ashton doesn’t miss the brief hurt that flashes across his face. “No, not like that, I’m not kicking you out. They’re locking down the state.”

“What?” Luke asks, confused. Ashton thrusts his phone into Luke’s face. Luke scans the notification, eyes widening, and stands up so abruptly he sends Ashton’s phone flying onto the floor. “Shit, shit, sorry, I-”

“Fuck, don’t worry, get your stuff together,” Ashton says, picking his phone up and electing not to tell Luke about the new crack running from the top left-hand corner to the middle of the screen. 

“Shit, Ash, I can’t,” Luke says, forehead creased, running a hand through his hair. “I’m never going to make it that far in four hours with everyone else on the road.”

“Well, you’re not if you just fucking stand there, are you?” Ashton says, agitated. “I’ll get your stuff from down here.” Luke hesitates for a moment and then nods, running out of the room, and Ashton hears him thundering up the stairs to the guest room he’s been staying in.

Ashton swears under his breath as he tries to remember what the fuck Luke actually brought with him. He picks up the hoodie that Luke had slung over the arm of the couch, wrestles his phone charger out of the wall, and tucks the notebook full of lyrics Luke had brought for Ashton’s approval under his arm. Twisting on the spot, he looks around the room wildly for anything he might have missed, and decides it won’t be anything important if he has missed something, nothing that can’t be replaced- 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, spotting Luke’s laptop, and clutches it close to his chest. That’s got to be all the important stuff now, he reckons, so he sprints up the stairs to the guest room to see Luke shoving all his stuff haphazardly in his bag.

“Bathroom?” Ashton asks, dropping everything in his arms on the bed, and Luke shakes his head, grabbing the hoodie and stuffing it in his bag. Ashton nods, running to the bathroom to grab Luke’s toothbrush, toothpaste – he hadn’t brought any mouthwash, had he? No, just the toothbrush and toothpaste – and is halfway back to the bedroom when he remembers Luke’s fancy electric razor and rushes back to the bathroom to grab it.

“Fuck,” Luke says, when Ashton gets back in and crams the bathroom items into Luke’s already overflowing bag. “Fuck, check the traffic, I have to pee.” Ashton pulls his phone out as Luke runs out of the room, getting up his Maps and calculating the route to Luke’s house.

Shit.

Six hours.

“Luke!” he shouts. “Luke, you have to leave now, bro. It says six hours.” The toilet flushes, and Ashton hears a faint “ Six ?” over the sound of the tap running. The door to the bathroom flies open, revealing an incredibly harassed-looking Luke Hemmings, hands dripping with water.

“I don’t have six hours,” Luke says.

“You can make it across the state line in four if you leave now,” Ashton says.

“Not if the traffic increases!” Luke sounds panicked now.

“Well, get a fucking move on then!” Ashton says, equally panicked. Luke nods, pushing past Ashton with wet hands to grab his bag from the guest room, and sprints down the stairs, Ashton in tow. 

“Fuck, where’d I leave my car keys?” Luke mutters, patting his pockets frantically.

“Put your shoes on, I’ll look for your keys,” Ashton says, grabbing Luke’s bag off him and shoving his hand in to feel around the bottom. It only takes him about ten seconds, by which time Luke’s straightening up, shoes on, and he slaps the key into Luke’s hand and runs to the door to open it. 

“Shit,” Luke says, running to his car and chucking his bag in the passenger seat, shutting it with a slam. “Bye, Ash, thanks for having me, love you, all that.” 

“Love you,” Ashton echoes. “Get home safe. Let me know. I’ll stay up.” Luke nods, pulling his car door shut, and doesn’t even bother putting his seatbelt on before backing out of Ashton’s driveway. Ashton feels his heart clench with both fear and worry, and watches Luke roar down the street until he turns the corner.

Fuck.

 ------- 

  -3 hours 

“Shit, Ash,” Calum says, when Ashton calls him half an hour later, having had a cup of tea to try and calm his nerves. “Is he going to make it back?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, biting his lip. “I fucking hope so. He should make it across the state line by midnight, depending on traffic.” There’s a distant mumbling at the other end of the line, and Ashton hears Calum informing Michael about what’s going on.

“…if he didn’t fucking live in Vegas,” is all he catches Michael saying, and, not for the first time, Ashton wholeheartedly agrees.

“Put me on speaker,” Ashton says. He hears some tapping, and then the static becomes a little more tinny. “Mike?”

“Hey, yeah,” Michael says, and Ashton can imagine the crease of worry between his brows. “So you said he should make it across the state line before midnight?”

“Depending on traffic,” Ashton reiterates, biting his fingernails – a habit he’d kicked, like, seventeen years ago.

“And if he can’t?”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe they’ll be lenient?” Ashton says.

“In America?” Michael sounds sceptical.

“You have a point,” Calum says.

“At least you two are together,” Ashton says, trying to focus on the positive. “Look after yourselves, yeah? Stay indoors.” He can almost hear Michael rolling his eyes.

“Right, like we have a choice,” he says.

“You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” Calum says, in that soothing voice he uses to calm them all down. “Try not to worry, Ash. He’ll be alright.”

“Will he?” Ashton says, ripping a hangnail off. It fucking hurts, but he’s kind of glad for the distraction.

“If I can get stranded in Bali and Michael can get stranded on his own in America Luke can handle being stuck in California,” Calum says.

“Yeah, but it’s a lockdown,” Ashton says.

“Even better,” Michael says. “He can’t do anything stupid.”

“Where would he go, though?” Ashton’s nervous train of thought is interrupted by a beeping, signalling someone’s trying to get through, and he holds his phone away from his ear to see it’s Luke. “Shit, he’s calling me. I’ll ring you back.” He doesn’t even wait for Calum and Michael to answer before picking up Luke’s call. 

“Luke?” he says.

“Ash?” he hears, Luke’s voice echoing and distant in his car. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you,” Ashton says. “Where are you?”

“I won’t make it,” Luke says. “The I-15’s totally backed up, I can’t even get onto it. Everyone’s trying to leave.” Ashton’s stomach drops.

“Fuck,” he says. “Can you get back to mine? You can stay here. 

“Are you sure?” Luke says. 

“‘Course,” Ashton says, the knot of worry in his stomach tightening. If Luke can’t even get onto the I-15, what if he can’t make it back to Ashton’s?

“Alright,” Luke says. “I’ll call you when I’m near, then. Fucking hell, what the fuck?”

“What?” Ashton asks anxiously. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, sorry, some guy just cut me off,” Luke says. “I’ll call you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “Drive safe.”

“Will do,” Luke says. “See you soon.” The line goes dead, and Ashton swallows, dialling Calum back.

“What’d he say?” Calum demands, picking up after half a ring.

“He’s not going to make it,” Ashton says. “Can’t even get on the I-15. He’s coming back here.”

“To LA?” Calum asks.

“Yeah, to mine,” Ashton says.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Calum says, and Ashton can hear the relief flooding his voice.

“I know,” Ashton says. “I hope he can get back here.”

“Of course he will, he’s got three hours. He’ll be alright, Ash. Breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” Ashton grumbles, but the knot in his stomach loosens a little at Calum’s calming tone.

“Want me to stay on the phone?” Calum asks gently. Ashton thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head, momentarily forgetting that Calum can’t see him.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m going to, like, clean my house, or something. Burn off this nervous energy. Thanks, though.”

“No worries,” Calum says. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Cal,” Ashton says, exhaling and hoping that Calum can’t hear that it’s a little unsteady. “I’ll text you when he gets here.”

“Alright,” Calum says. “I’ll tell Mikey. He’s not going to say it, but he’s really fucking worried.” Ashton snorts. Typical Michael.

“I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” he says.

“Love you,” Calum says.

“Love you,” Ashton echoes, and there’s a click as Calum hangs up.

Fuck.

 -------

  0 hours 

Ashton hoovers the entire house, dusts the living room and is halfway through dusting the kitchen, trying his best not to look at the clock (which by now has ticked past eleven p.m.), when he hears the faint sound of a car getting closer and closer. He throws down the duster, runs to the front door and yanks it open just in time to see Luke’s car pulling into his driveway. The tension in him dissipates entirely when Luke steps out of the car with his bag slung over his shoulder, raking his fingers through his bleached curls. Ashton almost sinks to his knees in relief.

“Hi,” Luke says, sounding tired but smiling nonetheless. Ashton pulls him in for a fierce hug, shakily breathing in the scent of warmth and Luke . Luke hugs back immediately, dropping his forehead on Ashton’s shoulder and inhaling deeply. Ashton’s not sure which of them is more relieved that he’s back. 

“C’mon,” Ashton mumbles after a moment. He doesn’t want to let go but is starting to feel the cool March breeze make the hair on his arms stand on end, and he shivers involuntarily as he stands aside to let Luke past. 

“Huh,” Luke says, wandering back into the living room. “This is cleaner than it was four hours ago.” Ashton snorts.

“Had to find some way to pass the time,” he says.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Luke says, an edge of nervousness in his voice. It kind of breaks Ashton’s heart a little bit, that even after all these years Luke still doesn’t quite believe he’s good enough.

“Fucking hell, Luke, of course not,” Ashton says. Luke grins, eyes crinkling around the corners, and Ashton can’t help but grin back.

“Looks like I’m your new roommate, then,” Luke says.

“Perfect time for me to house-train you,” Ashton says, dodging the swat Luke sends his way. “I’m going to call Cal back, let him know you made it here. They were worried about you.”

“Were you all on the phone talking about me?” Luke says.

“Yeah, about how fucking stupid you are for buying a place in Vegas when everyone else lives in LA,” Ashton says. Luke pulls a face.

“I don’t like LA,” he says.

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to,” Ashton says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialling Calum. The phone rings once, and then there’s the scrambling sound of someone answering.

“Ash?” It’s Michael. “Is he alright?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “He made it back.” Michael swears under his breath.

“Thank fuck,” he says. “Calum was really worried.”

“Yeah, sure, Calum was really worried,” Ashton says pointedly. Michael never picks up Ashton’s calls after a single ring.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Michael huffs. “I’m going to tell Cal. Tell Luke he’s a fucking idiot for buying a house in Vegas.”

“Will do,” Ashton says. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Michael says, and Ashton hears a distant Cal, baby - before the call cuts out.

“What’d Calum say?” Luke asks, throwing himself down on one of Ashton’s sofas and kicking his shoes off. Ashton frowns.

“It was Michael,” he says. “He said you’re a fucking idiot for buying a house in Vegas. And put your shoes in the hallway.” Luke rolls his eyes, but gets up and pads out to the hallway, shoes in hand.

“I told you, I don’t like LA,” he calls, and Ashton follows him, leaning against the doorframe as Luke slots his shoes neatly in Ashton’s shoe rack.

“Well, you’re stuck here now,” Ashton says. “Might as well get used to it.” 

“Well, technically I don’t need to get used to LA, since I can’t leave the fucking house,” Luke says, stifling a yawn. “Actually, I think I’m going to head to bed. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Ashton nods, still wired from the adrenaline.He knows he’s going to crash in about half an hour and should probably get his teeth brushed and skincare done before that happens.

“I should sleep too,” he says, watching Luke stretch and yawn and thinking it might be the cutest thing he’s seen all day. “You know where towels are, and everything.” Luke nods, holding the back of his hand to his mouth as he yawns again. “Alright, well. See you in the morning, then,” Ashton says, starting upstairs as Luke goes to retrieve his bag from the living room. 

“Night, Ash,” Luke calls back. “And- um. Thanks for letting me stay. Again. It means a lot.”

“Shut up, Luke,” Ashton says fondly, pausing on the stairs. “You know I love spending time with you.” There’s a moment of silence from Luke, and Ashton takes another step before he hears a slightly shy-sounding: 

“Not as much as I love spending time with you.” 

Ashton grins, rolling his eyes and blaming the curl of warmth in his stomach on the remnants of adrenaline, and heads upstairs.

 -------

  9 hours 

When Ashton wakes up the next morning, he immediately rolls over to check his phone. He’s got about fifty texts in the group chat, a bunch from his mum asking him to call and tell her he’s okay, and a couple of notifications from his news apps.

California state lockdown explained: 5 things you need to know.

CA on lockdown – citizens can only leave their house for food.

California lockdown: What does it mean for you?  

He clicks on the first one and quickly scrolls through the news article. As far as he can tell, he can only leave his house to go grocery shopping and get medication. Fucking hell.

He scrolls over to the group chat, quickly skimming through the messages – Luke and Michael bickering about cereal, Calum trying to talk about the lockdown, Luke and Michael turning to squabbling over the lockdown – and then clicks out of his messages and into his FaceTime, dialling his mum with no expectation of her picking up, since it’s half three in the morning in Sydney so she should be at work. To Ashton’s surprise, however, she picks up after two rings.

“Ash!” she says, sounding tinny, looking dark and pixelated. “Thank fuck you’re alright."

“Hey, mum,” Ashton says, frowning. “Aren’t you at work?" 

“I am, but I had to talk to you, sweetie,” his mum says, moving into some light, and Ashton can see that she’s in her work uniform. “Are you alright? Have you got enough food? What about the other boys?”

“I’m alright, mum,” Ashton says, aiming for soothing. “I’m home, and they’re letting us out for food anyway. Luke couldn’t make it back to Vegas, though, so he’s staying with me.” His mum makes a sound of motherly distress. 

“Oh, no,” she says. “Poor Luke. Poor Liz – I’ll have to give her a ring tomorrow. What about Mike and Calum?”

“They’re alright,” Ashton says. “They’re at home.”

“Well, at least you’re all safe,” his mum says, sounding relieved. “It’s fucking scary, isn’t it?” Ashton shrugs, the duvet rustling as he moves.

“Kind of,” he says. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like it’s going to be any different than normal. Especially for Michael,” he tacks on as an afterthought. His mum laughs. “How about you? What’s it like in Australia? Are you, Harry, and Lauren alright?”

“Oh, it’s not nearly as bad,” his mum says. “I’m worried about the people in here, though – I don’t want to be bringing anything in. I’m keeping watch over Harry when he washes his hands after going to the loo.” Ashton snorts.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust him,” he says. He opens his mouth to add something else, but is interrupted by his bedroom door slamming open. Luke’s standing in the doorway, grinning cheerfully, holding two mugs of coffee. 

“I made you coffee,” he says. “Oh, sorry, are you on the phone?” Ashton nods, turning the phone around so Luke can see his mum.

“It’s mum,” he says, and Luke brightens, waving at the camera.

“Hi, Anne!” he says. “How are you?”

“Hey, Luke!” Ashton’s mum says. “Ash told me you couldn’t get home.” Luke nods as he walks over to the bed, setting the two mugs down carefully on Ashton’s bedside table. Ashton loves him. 

“Yeah, I tried driving back last night but couldn’t even get on the highway,” he says, sitting down on Ashton’s bed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ashton’s mum says. “At least you’re with Ash – I’m sure that’ll make your mum feel better.”

“Well, at least someone’s happy about it,” Ashton says, earning himself an elbow from Luke. Ashton’s mum laughs.

“Listen, I’ve got to head back to work now, sweetie,” she says. “I’m so glad to hear you’re alright, though. Stay safe, please.”

“Will do,” Ashton says. “Speak to you soon, alright, mum? Love you.”

“Love you, Anne,” Luke says.

“Bye, boys, love you,” Ashton’s mum says, waving, and then Ashton’s screen goes blank.

“She’s so sweet,” Luke says, stretching out next to Ashton.

“Did your mum call?” Ashton asks, and Luke nods.

“All she wanted to know was that I wasn’t on my own in Vegas,” he admits, and Ashton snorts.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he says. Luke scowls. 

“I can live on my own," he says, indignant. "I can cook pasta. And make coffee.” As though he’s just remembered, he reaches over to the bedside table and hands Ashton one of the mugs. He looks so proud of himself that Ashton’s heart melts a little.

“You just have to press a button on the machine,” he says, but he’s grinning as he takes a sip. 

“Actually, I have to press, like, three buttons,” Luke says. “And then put in two teaspoons of sugar and a splash of milk.” Ashton doesn’t think his stomach should be full of butterflies at the fact Luke remembers that, but whatever. It’s early, and he’s probably still half-asleep. 

“Fuck, you’re right,” Ashton says, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Sorry, Gordon Ramsay, I take it back. That’s a Michelin star operation right there.” Luke scowls again, and swats Ashton’s arm lightly. 

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you for the next three weeks,” he says. 

"You’re stuck with me ?” Ashton says. “Sorry, whose house is this?” A grin unfurls on Luke’s lips.

“It’ll be mine by the time I’m done with it,” he says.

 -------

  1 day, 13 hours 

Luke wanders into the basement while Ashton’s drumming the next afternoon. He stands idly in the doorway, simply watching until Ashton finishes the song and pulls off his headphones. 

“You good?” Ashton asks, breathing heavily. Luke nods, sitting on one of the beanbags on the other side of the room.

“Just wanted to hear you play,” he says. “I’m bored.” Ashton rolls his eyes, but sets his headphones to one side.

“You’re already bored?” he says. “We’ve got three more weeks of this. Minimum.” Luke groans, tripping his head back and thunking it against the wall.

“Don’t remind me,” he says, closing his eyes. “Play something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Old Me,” Luke says.

“Why don’t you get a guitar?” Ashton suggests. “Play with me.” Luke shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says, not opening his eyes. “I just want to watch you, for a bit.” Ashton cocks his head.

“Yeah?” he says, feeling something oddly warm coursing through his veins. He really should get aircon for the basement. 

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Ashton says, reaching for his headphones.

He drums his way through Old Me, and then Thin White Lies for the hell of it, only setting his headphones aside when Easier comes on shuffle, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and throwing Luke a glance. He’s staring at Ashton. It’s a look that Ashton’s never seen on his face before, eyes following the heavy rising and falling of Ashton’s chest.

“You alright?” Ashton asks. Luke blinks, snapping himself out of whatever headspace he was in, and nods.

“It’s hot in here,” he says.

“Yeah, I haven’t got aircon down here yet,” Ashton says, a touch apologetically. Luke cocks his head.

“You’re pretty hot too,” he says.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ashton says sheepishly, grinning as he wipes his forehead again. Gross. He needs to wash his hands. “I’ll shower after.” Luke catches his eye, and Ashton’s not sure if he’s imagining the soft pink blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I didn’t mean like that,” Luke says, and he sounds a little unsure of himself.

“What?”

“Never mind,” Luke says, all in a rush. “I’m going back up. Gonna try and write.” Ashton frowns but nods, watching Luke as he pulls himself up from the beanbag and starts back up the stairs.

Ashton doesn’t think any more of it, because Luke often says things that don’t make sense, just puts his headphones back on and scrolls to Red Desert.

 -------

  1 day, 18 hours 

“I’m hungry,” Luke announces at half-past six.

“Okay,” Ashton says, focused on the screen in front of him. Why can’t he fucking overtake the bastard next to him?

“Ash,” Luke says, and there’s a definite pout to his tone.

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re twenty-three, Luke,” Ashton says, eyes still not straying from the screen. “Do you need chaperoning in the kitchen, or something?” There’s a moment of silence from Luke, and Ashton throws him a brief glance to see his expression. He looks a little torn. 

“I just thought it’d be nice if we ate together,” Luke mumbles after a moment. Ashton can’t help the smile that unfurls on his lips, accompanied by a warm feeling in his stomach. 

“A day into lockdown and you’re already getting domestic,” he teases, sensing Luke’s embarrassment and wanting to push a little further. He sees Luke scowl in his peripheral vision.

“Fuck you,” Luke says, but he doesn’t mean it. “I’ll go and make myself dinner, then.” He stands up to leave, but Ashton reaches out and catches his leg as he walks past, making him stumble and fall into Ashton’s lap. Ashton squawks, trying to wrestle his controller out from underneath Luke, but it only makes Ashton’s car spin in circles on the track, and the race finishes just as Ashton gets his controller back in his hands. 

“Look what you did,” Ashton says accusingly, pointing at the screen. 

“You did that yourself,” Luke says, blinking up at Ashton from his lap. “You’re not very good at videogames.” Ashton flips him off.

“C’mon,” he says, pushing at Luke’s back with his knees. “I’m hungry now, too.” Luke stands up obediently, holding out a hand for Ashton to pull himself up with, and he tugs with such force that Ashton almost stumbles into Luke. 

“Jesus, when did you get that strong?” Ashton mutters, steadying himself, and Luke grins bashfully. 

“I told you, I’ve been working out,” he says, heading to the kitchen. Ashton follows in his wake, frowning. 

“Yeah, but not like that,” he says. “What are we making?”

“What have we got?”

“Uh…I can make a Thai curry?” Luke nods enthusiastically, hopping up on the counter and letting his legs dangle. “You’re helping me though, dickhead. I’m not a maid.”

“C’mon, Ash,” Luke whines. “You know I can’t cook.”

“Well, lockdown’s the perfect time to learn,” Ashton says, bustling over to the fridge and taking out the ingredients he needs. “You can cut up the chicken.” Luke wrinkles his nose but hops back off the counter and saunters over to the cutting board Ashton’s just placed out, pulling the chicken breasts out of the container and grabbing a knife. 

“How big?” he asks. Ashton looks over from where he’s chopping spring onions.

“Little strips,” he says.

“That’s not a size,” Luke says, frowning, but he starts chopping anyway. Ashton watches him from the corner of his eye just to check that he’s cutting it properly, taking in the way he’s furrowing his brows in concentration, biting the corner of his lip where his lip ring used to be absent-mindedly. He misses Luke’s lip ring.

“You ever think about getting your lip re-pierced?” Ashton asks, and Luke looks at him in surprise.

“Not really,” he says. “Why?” Ashton shrugs.

“It was cute,” he says.

“Maybe I’ll have to get it re-pierced, then,” Luke says. “If you think it’s cute.” Ashton scowls, certain Luke’s taking the piss.

“I’m trying to compliment you, arsehole,” he says, finishing with the spring onions and moving on to baby corn. “Can you get the coconut milk and curry paste out of the fridge?”

“I’m trying to let you,” Luke says, pushing the chopped chicken further up the counter to make room for the coconut milk and Thai green curry paste. Ashton’s not really sure what he means by that, so he chooses to ignore it. “What now?" 

“Rice,” Ashton says, nodding at the cupboard above Luke’s head. Luke reaches for the one next to it. “No, the one right in front of you. No- Luke, the one right in front of you. To your right. Right, Luke, that’s left. Ri- yes, that one. Top shelf. Jesus.”

“I’m not good at directions,” Luke says, reaching up for the rice. Ashton’s eyes fall to the sliver of skin that gets exposed as his shirt rides up, smooth and pale.

“You need to buy shirts that fit you,” he says.

“My shirts fit me,” Luke says indignantly, as he tugs the hem down. “See?” Ashton rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Put the kettle on,” he says, leaning over the hob to grab the cutting board with the chicken on and scraping it into the pan. It sizzles satisfyingly, and Ashton pokes it around with the spatula, leaning back against the counter. Luke watches him wordlessly, eyes following Ashton’s hand as it moves back and forth.

“You have such long fingers,” he comments after a moment, just as the kettle boils. He reaches over and fills the pan with the rice, without Ashton even having to prompt him. 

“It’s a gift,” Ashton says, drumming his fingers on the spatula.

“To who?” Ashton cocks his head. 

“Whoever I decide,” he leers, waggling his eyebrows up and down and expecting Luke to laugh. Luke, however, bites his lip and looks steadfastly away from Ashton to the rice. Ashton decides not to comment, just adds the curry paste and stirs it around a little before adding the coconut milk. 

“This smells good,” Luke says, after a while.

“Shocking,” Ashton deadpans. “Something that takes more than two seconds to cook actually smells good?” Luke grins.

“I’m looking forward to eating your cooking for the next three weeks,” he says. Ashton flicks a drop of coconut milk at him, and Luke flinches away with a quiet squeal.

“I’m not your maid,” Ashton reiterates, dumping the onions and baby corn in the mixture and turning the heat down to a simmer.

“Shame,” Luke says, grinning. “I’d love to see you in a maid outfit.” This time Ashton lets the spatula go and rounds on Luke, darting his hands out to tickle him before Luke has time to pull away, and Luke shrieks, collapsing in on himself with giggles and pleas for mercy. Ashton doesn’t relent, feeling Luke’s legs buckling and grabbing him around the waist with one arm to steady him as he keeps tickling, until Luke’s pleas start coming out more gasped and sincere, at which point he lets go and lets Luke sink to the floor, breathless and red-faced. 

“You’re a bastard,” Luke says, between pants, but he’s grinning. Ashton holds out a hand for Luke to pull himself up on, and Luke takes it, wobbling a little as he stands upright. He makes to let go of Ashton’s hand, but Ashton holds on, using it to pull Luke close to him and wrap his arms around Luke’s broad shoulders. Luke immediately hugs back, slotting his chin into the crook of Ashton’s neck, and Ashton grins as the soft, warm scent of Luke goes straight to his head. 

“I would look sexy in a maid outfit, though,” he murmurs, and he feels Luke’s laugh reverberate through his entire body.

“You look sexy in anything,” Luke mumbles, pressing a kiss to Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton’s grin widens. 

“Even my blue jumpsuit?” Luke groans.

“Okay, except in the blue jumpsuit,” he says, and Ashton squeezes his waist, making him squawk and jump away. Ashton steps back to the hob, stirring through the curry and deciding it’s probably done now. 

“Grab us some plates,” he says, nodding at the cupboard with the plates in as he turns off the heat – that, at least, Luke knows. Luke nods obediently, fetching two plates out of the cupboard and traipsing into the dining room to put them on the table. 

“D’you want a drink?” he calls, as Ashton grabs some heat-protecting mats and carries the rice and curry into the dining room.

“Yeah, just some water,” Ashton says, passing Luke on his way back to the kitchen. He settles down in his seat, inhaling the aroma – Luke’s right, it does smell fucking good – and waits for Luke to return with his glass and a jug of water.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” Luke says, eyeing the curry with the look of a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks, not a man staying in a house with a fully-stocked fridge. 

“You can wash up,” Ashton says, helping himself to a big serving of rice and curry.

“You can dry, then,” Luke counters. Ashton opens his mouth to respond, but his phone buzzes next to him, and he glances over to see another news notification.

CA lockdown expected to last three months.

“Oh, fuck,” he says.

“What?” Ashton slides his phone over to Luke, whose eyes widen as he reads the notification. 

“Shit,” he says. “I don’t- I don’t fucking have anything with me. I literally have, like, four pairs of underwear here.” 

“We’ll have to go clothes shopping,” Ashton says.

“The clothes shops are all shut, idiot,” Luke says. Oh, fuck. 

“Oh, shit,” Ashton says. “Uh. Is Target still open?”

 -------

  3 days, 16 hours 

Two days later, they’re standing in Target, having queued for forty minutes just to get into the store. 

“I don’t like any of these,” Luke says, pulling a face as he fingers the arm of a plaid shirt.

“I think we’re a bit beyond shopping for taste,” Ashton says, grabbing, like, seven black shirts and chucking them in the shopping trolley. He throws in some pink, red, and blue ones for good measure, too, because Luke can’t be dressed in all black every day. “Are any of these jeans going to fit you?”

“Probably not,” Luke says, but he thumbs through the sizes and throws five pairs of black jeans in the trolley anyway. Ashton takes two out and replaces them with blue jeans. “I’m going to have my ankles out for the next three months.” 

“Raunchy,” Ashton says, sweeping some white shirts in. “You’re making me swoon.” Luke scowls as he throws in a bunch of socks, and they move to the next aisle, where Luke immediately brightens as he spots the brightly coloured, patterned button-down shirts. 

“I like these,” he says decisively, picking up a few and holding them against himself.

“Well, there you go,” Ashton says, grabbing a bunch and putting them on the pile of clothes in the trolley. “You pick out some shirts you like, and I’ll go find underwear.” He rounds the corner into the next aisle, and picks out five different packs of briefs for Luke, carefully selecting the most obnoxiously patterned ones he can find (and one pack of black ones). He goes back into the last aisle to find that Luke’s cleared out half of the rack of the patterned button-downs, and rolls his eyes as he throws the underwear in the shopping trolley.

“Are we done?” he asks. Luke nods, and Ashton pushes the (considerably heavier) shopping trolley in the direction of the tills. 

“Hang on, I want chocolate,” Luke says, and disappears off to the left before Ashton even has time to protest about having to haul the fifteen kilos of clothes onto the conveyor belt on his own.

“Get me Skittles!” Ashton shouts after him, because it’s the least Luke can do, which earns him judgemental looks from two middle-aged women nearby, and starts unpacking the trolley onto the conveyor belt. This poor cashier.

“Good afternoon!” the cashier chirps.

“Sorry about this,” Ashton says apologetically, as the cashier takes in the mountain of clothes with wide eyes. “My friend couldn’t get back home before the lockdown, so he has to buy himself an entirely new wardrobe for the next three months.”

“No worries, sir,” the cashier says cheerily, and starts scanning.

“I got you two bags,” Luke says, skidding up to the conveyor belt. “And I got myself a good amount of chocolate, because the less we can go outside the better. I got you some chocolate too.”

“Thanks, Luke,” Ashton says, and Luke grins at him as he dumps the seven hundred items in his arms on the conveyor belt behind his new clothes

“Stocking up?” the cashier asks, and Luke laughs, a little embarrassed. 

“Trying to butter my friend up,” he says, batting his eyelashes at Ashton, who narrows his eyes as he starts on his second bag of clothes.

“For what?” he says suspiciously.

“You’ll find out,” Luke says. 

“No, no, I don’t like that,” Ashton says. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing!” Luke says indignantly. “Well. Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“That’ll be two hundred and thirty dollars, sir,” the cashier says. 

“Fucking hell,” Luke says, digging around in his pocket for his wallet. “I’m going to have to stream CALM like, five hundred thousand times.” Ashton laughs, bagging up the sweets and chocolate and dropping it on top of the five bags of clothes.

“Thanks,” he says to the cashier, Luke echoing him, and they head back to the car.

“What did you do?” Ashton demands, as soon as they’re out of the store. Luke stares at him, wide-eyed and innocent.

“Nothing!” he says, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Ashton doesn’t like the look of. “I haven’t done anything. Yet.”

“I have zero qualms about kicking you out of my house if you fuck with my kit,” Ashton warns, loading two bags into the car.

“Michael and Calum would take me in,” Luke says dismissively, pulling a bar of chocolate out of the bag of sweets and hopping into the passenger seat.

“They wouldn’t be allowed,” Ashton calls, dropping the shopping trolley back off at the return point they’d thankfully parked close to. “Plus, I don’t think you’d want to third-wheel them for the next three months.”

“True,” Luke says, when Ashton gets into the car. “Honestly, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend three months cooped up with than you.”

“Funny,” Ashton deadpans, looking over his shoulder as he reverses out of the bay.

“Who said I was joking?” Luke says, a touch defensive, but when Ashton turns to look at him, he’s buried in his phone.

Whatever, Ashton thinks, debating for a split second whether or not to ram into the woman who just walked obnoxiously close to the back of his car. Luke says strange things sometimes.

 -------

  6 days, 10 hours 

Ashton’s woken up on Friday morning by the buzz of low voices, muffled by the walls. He blinks blearily, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, and rolls over to check his phone. There’s nothing particularly exciting, so he decides to be productive, get out of bed, and make himself a coffee before his shower.

He realises the voices are Michael and Luke’s when he gets close to the kitchen, bare feet padding silently on the tile, and he’s about a foot away from the door when he hears his name.

“-tell Ashton,” Michael’s saying, voice tinny from the internet connection, so Ashton does what any sane person would do when they hear their name come up in conversation between two of their best friends – he eavesdrops.

“I can’t,” Luke says, and he sounds distressed. “I’m telling you, Mike, I’ve tried. I’m trying. I can’t just say it.”

“Why not?” Michael asks. 

“I don’t have the balls,” Luke says. There’s a staticky sigh from Michael. 

“Well, you can either keep dropping hints that he refuses to take, or you can tell him,” Michael says. Luke groans, and Ashton hears the scraping sound of a chair on tile. 

“How the fuck am I going to survive three months here?” he says, and Ashton’s stomach drops.

Of course, it’s not exactly the most unexpected thing in the world, but it still kind of stings. Ashton probably wouldn’t want to spend three months cooped up in a house with Michael or Calum, but he’d thought things were different with him and Luke. He’d never had a problem with the idea of spending three months together, twenty-four hours a day, and he’d just assumed that Luke felt the same. But it stands to reason, really – nobody really wants to spend three months straight with only one person, do they? It’s not something he should take personally (even though he definitely is) – just because Ashton can’t get enough of Luke’s company doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. 

“…still think you should just tell him,” Ashton catches Michael saying, and tunes back into the conversation, stomach still unpleasantly heavy. 

“I can’t,” Luke says. “What if he says no? And then I’m stuck here for three months?”

“He won’t,” Michael says reassuringly.

“You don’t know that,” Luke says, and he sounds upset now. “Fuck, Michael. How the fuck do I end this?”

“You tell him,” Michael says. “Or, like, you just keep feeling like this until the lockdown’s over.” 

“Fuck,” Luke says, and Ashton decides he’s had enough, he’s going in for his fucking coffee, fuck Luke Hemmings and his backstabbing. He pushes the door open, and Luke jumps, immediately looking fearful.

“Morning,” he says, aiming for cheerful, but Ashton hears the edge of anxiety in his voice.

“Morning,” Ashton returns, trying for a smile. “Hey, Mike.”

“Hey, Ash,” Michael says. “I should probably head now, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Ashton says, breezing past Luke into the kitchen and busying himself with turning on the coffee machine so he won’t have to look at him. “Just making a coffee, then having a shower. Won’t be a minute. Sorry for interrupting."

“It’s your fucking house, dude,” Michael says, amusement clear in his tone. “I really should go, though. Cal’s got some elaborate obstacle course set up for Duke, and I’m planning on tempting him awry with treats.” 

“You’re such a dickhead,” Luke tells him, but the edge of anxiety is still in his tone and he doesn’t seem fully focused on Michael. Ashton wishes the coffee machine would hurry up.

“Well, someone’s got to keep Calum on his toes,” Michael says. “We’ll talk soon, though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbles. “Bye, Mike.”

“Bye, Ash! Love you,” Michael calls. 

“Love you too,” Ashton shouts back, and then there’s silence. 

“Hi,” Luke says, suddenly at Ashton’s shoulder, and Ashton’s going to implement a wear-shoes-on-the-tiles rule so that he can hear Luke coming. 

“Hey,” Ashton says, eyes on the coffee machine.

“Are you alright?” Luke asks, touching Ashton’s elbow gently. Ashton shrugs, the motion displacing Luke’s hand.

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to be here,” he says eventually, when it becomes clear Luke’s just going to wait until he has an answer, and figuring it’s best to get it over with sooner rather than later. 

“What?” Luke sounds genuinely shocked, and Ashton tears his eyes away from the fascinating drip-drip-drip of the coffee to Luke’s face.

“I know it’s not ideal, being stuck together for three months,” Ashton says, and a look of hurt flashes across Luke’s face.

“Oh,” Luke mumbles, averting his eyes. “I- sorry. I’m imposing, aren’t I?”

“What? No, Luke, I- fuck, no. I just…I heard you talking to Michael,” Ashton admits. “About, like, how you can’t be here for three months with me.” Luke’s look of hurt immediately turns to one of sheer terror.

“You…uh, what did you hear?” he asks, aiming for nonchalant, but the complete draining of blood from his face gives him away. Ashton would feel pretty guilty if he were caught saying he didn’t want to spend time with Luke to Michael too.

“Enough,” Ashton says, and it comes out a little bitter. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Like. We can figure something out. You can have the upstairs floor, or something. I’ll stay in the basement.” 

“What? Ash, fuck, no- it’s your house, and-”

“Well, for the time being it’s your house too,” Ashton says.

“No, I’m- look, I meant what I said the other day,” Luke says, carding a hand through his sleep-tousled curls. “There’s no one I’d rather spend three months stuck in a house with than you.” Ashton frowns.

“Luke, it’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to, like, lie to me, you’re my best friend and-” 

“No,” Luke interrupts. “I mean it, Ash.” He sounds so sincere, looks so earnest, that Ashton has no choice but to believe him. Luke’s a shitty liar, and Ashton always knows when he’s not being truthful. 

“Okay,” he says slowly, because if that’s the truth, then- “Then what was all that about?” he asks, inclining his head back towards Luke’s phone on the table. 

“That? Uh,” Luke says, eyes widening. “Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“Okay, something, but not that,” Luke says, looking a little guilty. “Definitely not that I don’t want to be here, ‘cause I do.”

“Okay,” Ashton says after a moment, and with a little difficulty, because Luke’s allowed to keep secrets from him, even if it hurts. “You promise? Because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here.”

“I’m not,” Luke says hurriedly. “It’s nothing like that. I promise.” The knot in Ashton’s stomach loosens considerably, and he nods.

“Okay,” he says again, and this time he even manages a smile. 

“Are we good?” Luke says anxiously. Ashton slides his arms around Luke and pulls him in for a tight hug, resting his cheek on Luke’s shoulder and pecking a kiss behind his ear. 

“We’re good,” Ashton says, savouring the way Luke’s arms automatically slip around Ashton’s waist and pull him tighter, flush against his body, so that Ashton can feel Luke warm against every inch of him. 

“Mm,” he says, sighing contentedly. “I could stay like this all day. Wouldn’t need to pay my heating bills.” 

“I think my neck would hurt from leaning down to your height,” Luke says, and Ashton pinches his arm.

“Dickhead,” he murmurs, and then he’s interrupted by the coffee machine beeping obnoxiously. Reluctantly, Ashton disentangles himself from Luke, reaching over and turning the machine off.

“I’m going to get dressed,” Luke says, and if Ashton’s not mistaken, he’s blushing slightly. Weird.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take a shower,” Ashton says, blowing on his coffee to cool it down a little.

“Can I watch?” Luke says, voice innocent but eyes mischievous. Ashton’s not really sure what to do with that. 

“You want to watch me soap up my balls?” he says, raising his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his coffee. Luke shrugs, a little pink-cheeked.

“Could always just do it for you,” he suggests, and Ashton, mug still in his mouth, aims a kick at his shin which Luke doesn’t quite manage to dodge in time. “Ow, fucking hell.” 

“Don’t mock my ball-washing routine,” Ashton says, pointing at Luke accusingly. “Never had any complaints so far.” 

“I was offering ,” Luke says, and Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“Sure you were,” he says, starting in the direction of the bathroom. “Go and get dressed. I’m going to shower.” 

“Leave the door open,” Luke calls after him, and Ashton laughs. 

“Fuck off,” he shouts back, smile evident in his voice, expecting to hear Luke laugh too, but he’s silent. 

Weird. 

 ------- 

  1 week, 1 day, 18 hours 

It only takes about a week for Ashton to remember why they have a blanket ‘don’t let Luke choose the movie’ rule. 

“No, Luke, I’m not watching fucking Frozen with you,” he says, for the fourth time in about two minutes. 

“Why not?” Luke demands, pouting slightly. Ashton tries not to think about the exact hue of his pink lips. 

“Because - y’know what, actually, I don’t think I need to justify myself on that one,” Ashton says. “Can’t we watch, like, Family Guy, or something?” 

“Wanting to watch Family Guy definitely requires justifying,” Luke says stroppily. “Or possibly a lobotomy.” Ashton scowls at him.

“Alright, how about Pulp Fiction?” 

“That’s so fucking long,” Luke groans.

“Oh, fuck, I forgot,” Ashton says, slapping a hand to his forehead. “We’re so busy. We have so many plans. We couldn’t possibly watch a three hour long movie.” Luke scowls, and throws a cushion at him.

“I have a suggestion,” he announces. Ashton throws him a wary look, chucking the cushion back at him. 

“If you say Frozen again-”

“Frozen 2,” Luke says, a smug look on his face, and Ashton’s had enough. He launches himself across the coffee table and onto Luke, landing haphazardly in his lap and reaching out to tickle him. Luke squeals, bucking his legs into Ashton’s arse uncomfortably, and squirms underneath him, trying to get him to stop. Ashton wrestles Luke back with his spare hand, pinning his arm to the back of the sofa as he gets his legs on either side of Luke, positioning himself so that Luke can’t move his legs. He doesn’t relent with the tickling until Luke’s red-faced and gasping for air.

“You bastard,” Luke says, breathing heavily, but he’s grinning. A curl’s fallen into his eye, and Ashton brushes it away without thinking, catching the way Luke’s breath hitches slightly on the intake as he does it. He hopes Luke’s not, like, developing asthma from the LA air. 

“I’m not watching Frozen,” Ashton says, watching Luke blink at him. He’s got such pretty eyes. “Or Frozen 2,” he adds quickly, seeing Luke open his mouth. Luke closes his mouth again, frowning. 

“It’s the least you can do after attacking me like that,” he says, still a little breathless. 

“Don’t give me reason to attack you, then,” Ashton says, grinning. Luke’s eyes are really fucking blue up close, he thinks. He doesn’t remember his lashes being that long, either.

“What?” Luke asks, and Ashton blinks, shaking himself out of it.

“Huh?” 

“You were staring.” Ashton feels colour rising to his cheeks. 

“I wasn’t,” he says. Luke looks amused. 

“You were,” he says. “What?” Ashton shrugs, not quite sure why he’s uncomfortable. It’s only Luke, after all, and it’s not like he doesn’t compliment Calum or Michael in his head too. 

“Your eyes are fucking gorgeous,” he says, and Luke smiles, a small, shy smile that Ashton hasn’t seen in far too long. 

“Yeah?” he says, sounding pleased, eyes lit up. Ashton suddenly thinks he would compliment Luke until his dying breath if it’ll keep him this happy. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, tucking yet another stray curl behind Luke’s ear. “You’re really fucking pretty, Luke.” Luke ducks his head, embarrassed, but Ashton can see his grin and the crinkling in the corner of his eyes, and his heart swells at the knowledge that it’s because of him. He loves making Luke smile. 

“You’re just saying that to try and get in my pants,” Luke mumbles, and Ashton laughs. 

“This whole pandemic thing has been an elaborate set up,” he says, rolling off of Luke’s lap and feeling a sudden coolness on his thighs at the loss of contact. He shuffles down the sofa and rests his head on Luke’s lap to make up for it, blinking up at him. Luke leans down a little, a slight smile tugging at his lips. 

“Hi,” he says, voice soft. 

“Hi,” Ashton says. 

“Please don’t look up my nose,” Luke says, and Ashton snorts. 

“Sexy,” he deadpans. Luke grins.

“You look cute like this,” Luke says, and Ashton’s stomach swoops pleasantly. He likes compliments (and apparently, a little voice in his head says, he really likes them coming from Luke). 

“You’re just saying that to try and get in my pants,” Ashton retorts, and Luke’s eyes glint playfully. 

“Is it working?” he says. Ashton huffs out a laugh. 

“I mean, at this rate,” he says, referring to his incredibly long dry spell and hoping Luke gets the gist without him having to elaborate further. 

“Charming,” Luke says mock-angrily, shoving Ashton off his lap and almost off the sofa. “I’m only an option when no one else is.” Ashton, steadying himself on the sofa, looks up, worried he’s actually hurt Luke’s feelings - because Luke can be kind of sensitive about these things - but sees his eyes twinkling. 

“C’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” Ashton jokes, shuffling back onto the sofa and throwing Luke a pleading look, because there’s no room for him to lie down if he can’t curl up in Luke’s lap. Luke sends him a righteous glare, but moves his arms out of his lap, and Ashton wriggles back into it happily. 

They lull into a comfortable silence for a moment, and Luke brings his hand down to stroke through Ashton’s curls almost absent-mindedly, gazing at the TV with a thoughtful expression. Ashton pushes into Luke’s hand, eyes fluttering shut with a contented sigh - no one ever plays with his hair, and he fucking loves it. He could easily stay here for the rest of the day, he thinks. 

“Would you?” Luke blurts suddenly, breaking the silence. 

“Huh?” 

“Would you,” Luke repeats, and it sounds like he’s steeled himself for whatever response Ashton’s going to give. 

“Would I what?” 

“Fuck me.” Ashton’s eyes fly open. “I- as in, like. Hypothetically. Not, would you fuck me, as, like, a request.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Ashton says. “I- where’s this coming from?” Luke shrugs, fingers scratching against Ashton’s scalp. Ashton can almost feel the heat emanating from Luke’s face.

“Would you?” he repeats stubbornly, despite the fierce blush on his cheeks, not letting Ashton dodge the question. 

The thing is, Ashton’s thought about it a few times. Mostly when he was younger - when he realised he was into boys, when he found out Luke was into boys, when he found out Michael and Calum had been fucking behind their backs since they were, like, sixteen - but he doesn’t think that’s particularly unusual. He’d been a fucking teenager, for Christ’s sake - another human being was pretty much all it’d taken back then. 

But there’ve been a few flashes in more recent years - when Luke’s wearing some particularly tight pants, when he’s sweaty and panting after running around on stage for two hours, when he’s sleepy and his voice is all low and husky. Ashton still doesn’t think it’s that weird, privately, because he’s going through a dry spell and Luke is objectively hot, but he thinks it’d probably be weird to tell Luke that. 

On the other hand, he doesn’t want to tell Luke no, because Luke’s sensitive and would probably take that to mean that he’s the most hideous person alive, or something. And he can’t go for the ‘but we’re friends!’ route - he’s fucked one too many of his friends for that shit to fly. So Ashton’s left with no choice but to tell the truth. 

“Hypothetically?” he says. “Yeah.” Luke blinks, looking almost shocked at Ashton’s answer, as though he’d been waiting for Ashton to say no. Ashton kind of wishes he had, now. 

“Yeah?” Luke echoes. Ashton shrugs, and gazes steadfastly at the ceiling. 

“You’re really fucking hot,” he says, and immediately regrets adding the qualifiers. You’re hot would have sufficed.

“Yeah, but…” Luke trails off. 

“But?” It’s Luke’s turn to shrug, and Ashton waits it out, but Luke doesn’t say anything else. Ashton doesn’t think that’s fair, so he says: “Would you?” 

“Would I?” Luke says, moving his fingers down to scratch just over Ashton’s ear, and Ashton can tell he’s stalling for time. 

“Fuck me, dickhead,” Ashton says. Luke swallows, and Ashton tries not to think about that given the current circumstances. 

“‘Course,” Luke says, and somehow, it’s different when Luke says it. Ashton saying he’d fuck Luke - well, yeah, that’s a given - but Luke saying he’d fuck Ashton? That puts a whole different dimension on things, makes him wonder just how much Luke’s thought about it, what he’s thought about, when he’s thought about it- 

“Yeah?” is all he can muster in response, mind racing. 

“Hypothetically or not,” Luke says, all in a rush, as though he’s had to build up the courage to say it. Ashton doesn’t quite understand what he means, but whatever. 

“So you think I’m fit?” Ashton says, grinning, and Luke scowls down at him. 

“We were having a moment,” he says, but there’s no heat behind his words, and his cheeks are still tinged with pink. 

“We’re still having a moment,” Ashton says. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m fit. That’s a moment.” 

“Why don’t we fuck, then?” Luke says, and Ashton laughs, but Luke doesn’t. 

“C’mon,” Ashton says, pulling himself out of Luke’s lap with a little difficulty. “Let’s actually watch a fucking movie.”

“So...Frozen or Frozen 2?” Luke says hopefully. 

 ------- 

  1 week, 5 days, 14 hours 

Ashton doesn’t think about the conversation again for a good few days. 

It’s not until he’s on FaceTime with Calum, catching him up on the previous few days, that he thinks about it again. 

“So,” he says carefully. “Luke and I had a bit of a...uh, conversation the other day.” Calum’s eyebrows fly up into his beanie. 

“Yeah?” he says. “About what?” 

“He asked me if I’d fuck him,” Ashton admits. “As in, like, hypothetically, not like he was asking me to.”

“And?” Calum says. “What was the verdict?” 

“Well, obviously,” Ashton says, as though Calum’s an idiot. “Who wouldn’t fuck Luke? You’d fuck Luke.” 

“True,” Calum admits. “Although, for the purposes of my relationship, I wouldn’t fuck Luke.” 

“But hypothetically,” Ashton says. 

“Hypothetically,” Calum agrees. 

“He said he’d fuck me too,” Ashton says. 

“Well, yeah,” Calum says, with an air of well, duh. “I’d fuck you.” Ashton wrinkles his nose. 

“Well, don’t,” he says. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “So? You’ve got nothing else to do during quarantine, have you? Fuck him.” Ashton chokes on his next breath. 

“I- what? Cal- fuck, no, are you- what?” he splutters, and Calum grins. “I don’t- he’s not- we- I don’t see him like that! It’s hypothetical!” 

“Sure,” Calum says easily. “Hypothetical. Got you.” Ashton hates him. 

“I hate you,” he tells Calum, who just laughs. “Fuck you. I’m confiding in you.” 

“I’m offering you advice,” Calum says. “Fuck him.”

“No, Cal!” Ashton says. “I don’t want to. I just would.” 

“Why not?” Calum says, and before Ashton has time to respond, adds: “And don’t say because you’re friends, because that’s not stopped you before. Or because it’ll fuck up the band, because I’m fucking Michael, so that ship has sailed.” 

“Ew,” Ashton says, scrunching his face. “I don’t want to think about you fucking Michael.”

“So don’t,” Calum says. 

“I can’t help it when you talk about it,” Ashton says, images flashing up in his mind. “Ew. Ew. Gross.” He pauses for a second, and then, out of pure curiosity, to make sure his mental image is correct, asks: “Michael tops, right?” Calum bursts out laughing.

“‘Course he does,” he says, eyes twinkling. “I’m a massive sub, Ash.” 

“Okay, that I didn’t need to know,” Ashton says. 

“You already knew it,” Calum says. 

“Yeah, but I hadn’t connected it to Michael,” Ashton says, shuddering. 

“Don’t be rude about my boyfriend,” Calum says evenly. “And stop avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding the question,” Ashton protests weakly, because he’s definitely avoiding the question. Calum just raises his eyebrows again, and Ashton sighs. 

“I just don’t see him like that,” Ashton says. “Like. Anyone would want to fuck him. Anyone would want to kiss him. Anyone would want to, like, hold his hand, take him on dates, suck his dick, because it’s fucking Luke, y’know? He’s just-” he breaks off, noticing Calum giving him a strange look. “What?” 

“I don’t want to do that, Ash,” Calum says. 

“Well, I’m not saying I want to, just that I would,” Ashton reiterates. 

“You know whose hand I wanna hold? Who I wanna kiss, take on dates, all that shit?” Calum says. 

“Who?"

“Michael.” Something twists uncomfortably deep in Ashton’s gut. 

“Yeah, well. You would say that, wouldn’t you?” he says, but Calum’s still got that look on his face. 

“Yeah,” he says, tone unreadable. “Guess I would.” He gives Ashton an odd look, one that makes him feel oddly exposed, but then the moment passes, and he’s grinning again. “Hey, did I tell you about the obstacle course I set up for Duke?” 

 ------- 

  2 weeks, 1 day, 16 hours

“Hey,” Luke says, popping his head around the door to the basement. Ashton’s in between songs, scrolling through his music to find something he thinks he might like to learn. “I’m going shopping. Want anything?” 

“I’ll come with,” Ashton says, putting down his sticks and pulling his headphones off. “I’ve got a whole list.” 

“Yeah, I’ve got the list,” Luke says, waving the piece of paper Ashton keeps next to the microwave. 

“I’ll come anyway,” Ashton says. “I don’t trust you shopping on your own.” Luke frowns. 

“Why not?” he says, more than a little petulant. “I shop for myself in Vegas.” 

“Yeah,” Ashton says pointedly, thinking about Luke’s fridge stocked full with alcohol and ready meals. Luke’s frown deepens. 

“Whatever,” he huffs. “I can shop.” 

“For alcohol,” Ashton says, getting up and starting towards the stairs.

“Yeah, what else do I need?” Luke says breezily, stepping aside for Ashton to pass him. Ashton snorts, and shakes his head. 

“Do I smell?” he asks, knowing he’s been sweating. Luke leans in, close enough that Ashton can smell his cologne and fresh linen and soap. It makes him feel a little dizzy. 

“Nah,” Luke says, straightening up. “Let’s take my car, it’s got more space in the boot.” Ashton nods, pulling on the first shoes he can find (which might be Luke’s, given that they feel slightly too roomy), and following Luke out to his car. 

“You got the list?” he asks, when Luke sits down in the driver’s seat, and Luke lifts his hips to fish the piece of paper out of his pocket. Ashton tries not to let his eyes wander, mind flashing back to that conversation. He clears his throat, as though it’s going to push the thoughts away, and Luke throws him a strange look as he passes Ashton the paper. Ashton chooses to stare steadfastly at the list, pretending he’s totally enraptured in bananas, onions, bleach, lube- wait, lube?

“Lube?” Ashton says, before he can stop himself. Luke, pulling out of the driveway, blushes. 

“I didn’t bring any,” he says. “Didn’t know I was gonna be stuck here for three months. And, like. I’m not about to ask you for yours.” 

“What d’you need lube for?” Ashton says, without thinking. Luke bites his lip, blushing an even deeper shade of red, and Ashton realises exactly what the lube is for.

“Are you seriously gonna make me say it?” he asks. Ashton wasn’t going to, not until he’d seen how embarrassed Luke is. 

“Say what?” Ashton asks, feigning innocence. 

“To- for, uh. Wanking.” Luke’s cheeks are single-handedly heating up the entire car. 

“Oh,” Ashton says, conversationally, unable to stop the smug grin that creeps onto his face. “Like, so it’s not dry? Couldn’t you just use spit?” Luke makes a small noise somewhere between a cough and a choke. 

“Ash,” he whines. “You know what.” 

“Do I?” Ashton says, grinning widely. He’s not sure why he wants to push Luke’s buttons like this - he’s pretty sure if Michael had written ‘lube’ on a shopping list he would have just pulled a face and not mentioned it. It’s probably just the amusement of seeing how flustered Luke gets. 

“Oh my God,” Luke mutters. “To finger myself, Ash. Happy?” Something curls low in the pit of Ashton’s stomach hearing Luke - Luke - say those words. 

“That’s not why you upped the number of cucumbers on the shopping list, is it?” Ashton says, frowning at where x1 had been crossed out to say x3. Luke splutters. 

“No, you fucking- I hate you,” Luke says, turning into the car park. “I just- I like cucumbers.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Ashton says, grinning.  

“Fuck you,” Luke says, but he’s smiling too, and the curl in Ashton’s stomach licks up at him again.

(It takes Ashton all the way through the fifty-minute queue and five minutes into standing in the meat aisle of Walmart to realise what that curl of heat in his stomach was. 

Arousal.) 

 ------- 

  2 weeks, 1 day, 18 hours 

“Hey,” Ashton says over his shoulder, as they’re ambling through Target, Luke trailing behind him so they can stick to keeping the sanctioned six feet of distance between themselves and other shoppers. “Should we paint your room?” 

“Huh?” 

“Well, I’ve been wanting to redecorate that room for ages anyway, and it’s not like we have anything better to do.” He turns the shopping trolley into the paint aisle, and rounds on Luke with raised eyebrows, questioning. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Luke says, happily. “That sounds sick.” Ashton grins, and steps around the shopping trolley to the tins of paint. 

“What colour d’you want?” he asks. 

“It’s your house, dude,” Luke says. Ashton’s not sure he likes being called dude by a guy he’d fuck. Hypothetically. 

“Yeah, but I never use that room,” Ashton says, waving his hands dismissively. “You’re literally the only person who does, because everyone else lives in fucking LA.” 

“Are you sure?” Luke says, still a little hesitant. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “As long as you don’t pick, like, bright red. That’s bad for the psyche.” Luke snorts. 

“What the fuck?” he says. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Ashton insists. “I read it somewhere.” 

“Yeah, probably in a book about kale, or something,” Luke mutters, loud enough that Ashton knows he’s meant to hear it, so he chooses to ignore it. 

“I like pale yellow,” Ashton says. “How about that?” Luke wrinkles his nose. He’s got a really fucking cute nose, Ashton notices. 

“It’s gonna look like someone pissed on the walls,” he says. 

“My bedroom’s pale yellow,” Ashton says, affronted. Luke throws him an innocent smile, and Ashton scowls and flips him off. “Fuck you. My room does not look like someone pissed on the walls.” 

“Whatever you say,” Luke says, and Ashton hates him, just a little bit. 

“Alright, fuck, let’s paint my room too,” Ashton says, still scowling. “God, you’re a terrible guest. You can’t just stay in someone’s house and insult it.”

“You should get some more paintings for your living room and hallways,” Luke puts in, as though Ashton hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Sure, let me just access my bottomless bank account,” Ashton says sarcastically, picking up a tin of paint. “How’s pale green?” 

“I was thinking baby blue,” Luke says, another tin in his hands. 

“Well, I like pale green,” Ashton says stubbornly, because Luke can’t get all the wins here. 

“Good thing we’re decorating two rooms, then, isn’t it?” Luke says, amusement glittering in his eyes. Ashton can’t think of a good retort to that, so he just dumps like, seven tins of the paint in the shopping trolley, and Luke does the same with the blue paint. 

“Have we got brushes?” Luke asks. Ashton furrows his brow, trying to remember. 

“I don’t think so,” he says. “I think I lent them to Cal and Mike when they were redecorating.” Luke nods, picking up a handful of brushes and chucking them in the trolley. 

“Anything else?” Luke says, and Ashton shakes his head. Paint and brushes, that’s all you need to paint a room, right? “Cool. Let’s get out of here. After stopping in the chocolate aisle,” he tacks on as an afterthought. He grabs the trolley and heads off, leaving Ashton to shake his head fondly and follow in his wake. 

 ------- 

  2 weeks, 4 days, 20 hours  

It takes another 3 and a half days until they get all the furniture out of Luke’s room, Luke bitching every time he has to pick up anything heavier than a fucking pillow. The room looks odd when it’s empty, their voices reverberating strangely in a very un-homey way.

Ashton digs out some masking tape and tapes up the light switch, the doorframe, the skirting board, the window frame, anything he doesn’t trust Luke to successfully avoid painting over, while Luke places old newspaper across the floorboards. 

“I don’t get why we couldn’t just move everything to the middle of the room,” Luke whines, stepping over the pouffe that had stood in the corner of his room that’s blocking the doorway rather than picking it up and moving it like a rational human being. 

“Move the fucking pouffe,” is how Ashton responds, and he can almost hear Luke rolling his eyes sulkily. He stomps over to the pouffe and places it about two feet away sullenly. “Because you’re literally incapable of not making a mess of anything.” 

“I am not,” Luke protests, walking back over, picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into the paint. He whips around to face the wall, and paint splatters across the wall, floor, and Ashton in the process. “Whoops.” 

“Exactly,” Ashton says pointedly, and Luke flicks more paint at him. 

“C’mon,” he says. “Before the paint dries out.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Ashton says, but he dips his own brush in the paint and paints a big streak at eye level. It’s oddly satisfying, actually, the smooth movement of the brush on the wall. 

They paint in silence for a while, Ashton working methodically in sections, Luke just painting big fucking streaks here and there with zero regard for whether it’s evenly distributed or not. Whatever, Ashton thinks - he can always go back and fix it later. Plus, it’s Luke who has to live with it, not Ashton. 

(He’s not really sure when this room became ‘Luke’s room�� in his mind, but he finds he’s perfectly fine with it.) 

“We should put some music on,” Luke remarks after a while, and Ashton nods. 

“Speaker’s in my room,” he says. Luke nods, setting down his brush and heading out. Ashton hears a thump and a pained squawk, and figures Luke’s walked right into the pouffe he hadn’t properly moved out of the way.

“I told you to move it!” he calls. 

“Fuck you!” he hears back, muffled by the wall, and grins. Luke walks back into the room a few minutes later, frowning at the phone in his hand, and sets the speaker down by one wall. He fiddles with his phone for a minute then sets it down next to it too, the sound of All Time Low suddenly filling the room. 

“Really?” Ashton says, raising his eyebrows, but he’s grinning. ATL never get old. 

“Well, we’re touring with them soon, aren’t we?” Luke says, shrugging as he picks his paintbrush up again. “Can’t hurt to refresh the memory a bit.”

“Refresh the memory?” Ashton asks. “Luke, you know ATL’s songs better than our own.” 

“Guilty,” Luke says, not sounding guilty at all, and painting a big stripe next to the square Ashton’s currently working on. “Can’t help that they’re better than us.” 

“I don’t know, some of Dirty Work kinda sucks,” Ashton says. Luke makes a noise of outrage. 

“I’m telling Alex you said that,” he says. 

“He agrees with me,” Ashton says.

“He’s just saying that because he thinks you’re cute,” Luke says. 

“He thinks you’re cuter,” Ashton says nonchalantly, dipping his paintbrush back in the tin.  

“He’s wrong,” Luke says immediately. Ashton rolls his eyes but says nothing, not wanting to play into Luke’s insecurities, choosing to fix the uneven bottom of the streak Luke had just painted instead. 

They cycle through a few of Luke’s favourites - ATL, Blink - and then Best Years comes on. Ashton barely even realises until he hears Luke singing softly next to him, completely oblivious as he’s totally focused on painting. It sends something strong coursing through Ashton’s veins - a big fucking rush of love, because Luke’s so fucking talented, and he’s so proud of him, so proud of them, loves Luke and loves seeing him like this, disarmed and candid. 

“I love you,” he blurts, when Luke moves to humming instead of singing. Luke looks at him in surprise. “Fuck, sorry.” He laughs, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. Bit of a weird thing to just come out with like that. “I’m just. You’re so fucking talented, and I’m so proud of you.” A smile unfurls on Luke’s lips, big and happy. 

“You’re adorable,” he tells Ashton. “I love you too, obviously.” And oh, okay, that’s different. Ashton doesn’t usually get a rush of adrenaline hearing that. 

“Yeah?” he says, kind of wanting to hear it again, a little hooked on the high. 

“Yeah,” Luke echoes, and Ashton finds himself a touch disappointed that he leaves it there. 

“I’m glad you got stuck here for lockdown,” he says, instead of the please say it again that’s on the tip of his tongue. 

“So am I,” Luke says, still smiling widely. “You would’ve gone insane on your own.” Ashton throws him a glare. 

“Arsehole,” he says. “I handle being on my own just fine, thank you very much.” 

“Oh yeah?” Luke says. “What about that time we all went home for Christmas and you stayed here? You were texting me every two minutes asking to call.” 

“That’s different,” Ashton insists. “Christmas is a time to be with people.” 

“Sure,” Luke says, a smile curling around his words. “You just can’t get enough of me.” 

“Right,” Ashton says, sarcastically, while his mind tells him yeah, he’s right. You kind of can’t. He’s not quite sure why a little ball of anxiety settles in his abdomen following that thought. “You definitely weren’t third on my call list after Calum and Michael, or anything.” 

“I know I wasn’t,” Luke says smugly, “because firstly, Calum and Michael are always together so if anything, I’d be second on your call list, and secondly, I was with Cal and Michael half the time and my phone rang first.”

“Great,” Ashton says. “All of you hanging out without me. And you wonder why I have trust issues?” 

“You don’t have trust issues.” 

“I do now.” Luke rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. 

They paint quietly for a while longer, listening to Luke’s playlist scroll through - Christ, he still listens to a lot of old emo anthems - until Luke puts down his paintbrush with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m tired,” he complains. “What time is it?” Ashton pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. 

“Ten,” he says, surprised at how fast the time has gone and how little of the walls they’ve actually managed to paint. “Want to move your bed back in here?” Luke pulls a face. 

“I’d rather sleep on it in the bathroom,” he says, because it’s the closest space that could fit the bed that they found, and so naturally, that’s where it is. 

“Well, I might want to shower in the morning,” Ashton says. “Why don’t you just share with me?” 

“You sure?” Luke says. Ashton shrugs. They’ve shared beds so many times before - shared bunks on the bus, even - so how would this be any different? 

“It’s not like we’re not used to it,” he says, which makes him remember something - Luke’s a chronic duvet hogger. “Just bring your own duvet.” 

“I don’t hog,” Luke protests, but he disappears into the bathroom and returns with the duvet in his hands anyway. 

“You better not have picked that up with your paint-covered hands,” Ashton warns, and Luke throws him a sheepish grin. 

“Oops?” he offers. 

“Dickhead,” Ashton mutters. 

 ------- 

  2 weeks, 4 days, 23 hours 

Sharing a bed with Luke at home is strangely intimate. 

It takes Ashton until they’ve squabbled over who gets which side, whether they should turn the main light off or not and what time to set the alarm for until he realises that it’s because it’s not sharing a bed, it’s sharing his bed. 

“Your bed is comfy,” Luke remarks, duvet tucket up to his neck. He kind of looks like he’s been beheaded. 

“You look like your head’s been cut off,” Ashton tells him. Luke grins, tucking the blanket in tighter to maximise the effect. “Yeah, I got, like, some special memory foam mattress topper.” 

“I should get one,” Luke muses. 

“When you finally get back to Vegas,” Ashton agrees. 

“God, my house is going to be, like, so dusty,” Luke groans, turning onto his side. Ashton rolls over to face him. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I bet you’ve never actually fucking cleaned it, have you?” 

“I’ve hoovered before,” Luke protests. Ashton rolls his eyes, expecting nothing less. 

“You’re disgusting,” he tells Luke, who just grins at him. 

“At least I’ve been picking my towels off the floor,” he says. 

“Oh, right, at least you’ve been doing the bare fucking minimum,” Ashton says sarcastically. 

“For you,” Luke says pointedly, and something about the earnest look in his eyes sends the words straight to Ashton’s heart. 

“I’m honoured,” Ashton says, trying his best to ignore the way that his heart’s suddenly in his ears. He swallows, as if that’s somehow going to control his heartbeat, and he sees Luke’s eyes follow the line of his throat. It does nothing to help the pounding in his ears. 

“You should be,” Luke says, still gazing at Ashton’s throat, and it comes out as a murmur. His eyes flit back up to Ashton’s eyes, ocean blue meeting hazel. 

It strikes Ashton, all of a sudden, how close they are. His nose is almost touching Luke’s, maybe all of four inches apart, and he realises with a jolt that if he wanted to, it would be all too easy to lean forwards and press his lips to Luke’s. 

To kiss Luke. 

And, worst of all, he wants to.

A wave of panic crashes over him as soon as the thought crosses his mind, and he pulls back sharply, suddenly. Luke frowns, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows, and Ashton wills himself to not find it endearing. 

“I- uh, I’m tired,” Ashton lies, not even convincing himself, trying to ignore the way his palms are sweating and his mouth is going dry. 

“Oh,” Luke says, sounding a little sad, and Ashton’s heart aches. “Well. Night, I guess.” 

“Night,” Ashton says, too quickly, rolling over so his back is to Luke and switching off his side light. After a moment of silence, he hears shuffling on the other side of the bed, and Luke’s light clicks off too, leaving the room in darkness. 

Ashton tries to even out his breathing, tries to make it sound less shaky, but the panic is rising in him, pressing on his chest and settling like a hangover in his stomach. Breathe, he tells himself, trying to slow his racing mind. Breathe. 

What the fuck was that? Ashton doesn’t think about kissing Luke, not like that. In the odd fantasy, sure, sometimes out of pure curiosity, but not like that, not when it’s real and intimate and Luke’s gazing at him with those baby blues, not when it means anything. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, as if it’ll erase the thought from ever having existed in his mind. 

He doesn’t want to kiss Luke. It probably wasn’t about wanting to kiss Luke, it was about the hypothetical possibility. The wanting probably just came as an instinctual continuation of that train of thought. And that’s not weird, because it’s a natural jump to make when there’s a hot man that he’d definitely fuck four inches from his face. It’s probably also compounded by the fact that Ashton hasn’t had sex in, like, well over a year at this point. He’s still a fairly young man, after all - hormones definitely still have to be playing a factor here. 

Yeah, he tells himself, breathing a little easier now. It wasn’t about wanting to kiss Luke - it was just that had he wanted to - which he didn’t - he could have. And there are so many mitigating factors that mean it was a perfectly normal thought to have, given the circumstances. 

He rolls onto his back trying to convince himself of that, or, failing that, to clear his mind and think of anything else, and eventually drifts off into an uneasy sleep. 

 ------- 

  2 weeks, 5 days, 12 hours 

The problem is, Ashton’s never been able to hide anything from Calum. 

The minute Ashton answers Calum’s FaceTime the next day, Calum leans forwards, a crease between his eyebrows. 

“What’s up?” he asks immediately. 

“Good morning to you too,” Ashton says, trying for light and humorous. 

“What’s wrong?” Calum says, ignoring Ashton’s comment as he adjusts his bucket hat. He’s sat in his garden, as he always seems to be these days, hair lighter every time Ashton sees him. 

“Nothing,” Ashton says, looking around to check that Luke isn’t in the kitchen. He isn’t, but Ashton figures he can’t be too safe, so he takes his iPad and carries it down to the basement. Calum’s silent while Ashton walks, just waiting, until Ashton throws himself down on a beanbag and swallows. He can tell Calum. Calum won’t say anything.  

“I think I might be fucked, Cal,” he says, sounding hopeless even to his own ears. 

“Why?” Calum asks, gentle and calming. Ashton puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to say it out loud. If he says it out loud, it becomes real. If someone else knows about it, it takes on a form that he can’t control, and Ashton doesn’t know if he can handle that. 

“I don’t- I can’t,” he says, helpless. 

“Is it Luke?” Calum asks knowingly. Ashton just nods. “Oh, Ash.” 

“I don’t know why,” Ashton says. “I- I don’t understand. I don’t think of him like that.” He doesn’t sound very convincing, even to himself.

“It’s okay,” Calum says soothingly.

“I don’t get it,” Ashton says dully. 

“I kind of figured this would happen,” Calum muses, but he’s not gloating, and it doesn’t make Ashton feel worse. “I mean, you two, cooped up in a house together for three months?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ashton says, aiming for affronted, but it comes out wobbly. Calum smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You two are idiots,” is all he offers as a response. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Ashton says, and a hysterical laugh bubbles out of him at that, because yeah, nothing fucking happened, and he’s already freaking out. “Nothing. I just-” he takes a deep breath. It’s only Calum, he tells himself. Calum knows. Calum understands. Calum didn’t have an easy time admitting to himself that he liked Michael. “I...I think that maybe, I, uh. Wanted to kiss him.” 

The words hang between the two of them for a moment, and Ashton wishes he could push them back down. 

“Okay,” Calum says, calm and even. 

“Okay?” Ashton says, voice about an octave higher. “Cal, I wanted to kiss Luke. Like. We were so close.”

“To kissing?”

“No, just physically,” Ashton says, biting his thumbnail. 

“It’s okay,” Calum says. “It’s okay to want to kiss him.”

“No it’s not,” Ashton says. 

“Alright, why isn’t it okay?” Calum asks. “Let’s break it down.” 

“He’s my friend,” Ashton says. 

“You’ve fucked loads of your friends, Ash,” Calum says, like Ashton knew he would. 

“He’s in the band, though. I don’t want to fuck up the band.” 

“I’m fucking Michael,” Calum says. “We’re in the band.” 

“That’s different,” Ashton says. “You were fucking before the band.” 

“You didn’t know that, though,” Calum says. “Plus, we nearly broke up when we were twenty-one, and you didn’t notice.” Ashton gapes at him. 

“What? ” He’s absolutely aghast, all thoughts of kissing Luke suddenly wiped from his mind. “What the fuck? When?” Calum shrugs. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “Point is, you and Luke didn’t even know. We’re adults. We can get through shit like that.” Ashton doesn’t want to push, but he just can’t wrap his head around-

“I don’t get it,” he says bluntly. “You and Mike, you’re...you’ve never spent a day apart. How could we not notice you nearly breaking up?” Calum raises his eyebrows. 

“Because, like I said, we’re adults,” he says. “Yeah, it’d suck for a while, but we’d get through it. We can all be mature about these things.” Privately, Ashton’s not sure whether Luke can without Calum and Michael making him fall in line. Calum seems to know what he’s thinking, and adds: “Yeah, Ash, even Luke. He might be a whiny brat, but he’s our whiny brat.” 

“Look,” Ashton says, mind still spinning about the idea of Michael and Calum almost breaking up, and him not even noticing. “This is all- this is jumping a lot of steps. I just- I wanted to kiss him, okay? But, like. That doesn’t mean I want to date him.” 

“Don’t you?” Calum asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

“No!” Ashton protests. 

“You don’t want to fuck him?”

“Well, I mean, I would, but-”

“You don’t want to kiss him?”

“I just said I did, but-” 

“You don’t want to hold him in public so everyone knows he’s yours? Take him to shows you’ve got absolutely no interest in just to see him happy? Watch shitty movies with him just to see him laugh? Compliment him until he’s smiling like a fucking idiot? Watch him play guitar for hours on end just because he’s so fucking talented, and you love him so much?” 

“Alright, Cal, I get it, you want to suck Michael’s dick,” Ashton says loudly. “God. You’re a fucking romantic.” Calum laughs, broken up by his terrible internet. 

“I’m just describing things I want to do for him,” he says. “And I can tell you with absolute certainty that I’m in love with that boy.”

“I’m not in love with Luke,” Ashton says. 

“Maybe not,” Calum allows, “but you want to date him.” 

“I don’t- I don’t think I do,” Ashton says carefully. 

“That’s already a step closer than two minutes ago,” Calum notes. 

“Fuck,” Ashton says, panic swirling threateningly in his chest again. “I don’t- I don’t want to date Luke. Do I? No. I don’t.” He doesn’t sound sure of himself, though. He doesn’t feel sure of himself, not after listening to Calum, because he knows, deep down, that he wants to do those things for Luke too. 

But that doesn’t mean anything, he thinks immediately. They’re friends. The line is so fine. 

“Fuck,” Ashton says again. “God, Cal, I don’t know. How do I even know if I like him like that? Where’s the fucking line?”

“It’s tough,” Calum says, a crease between his brows. “Believe me, I know.” 

“How did you do it?”

“I thought about it,” Calum says. “For a long, long time. I mean, I was also trying to figure out my sexuality at the time, which probably contributed a lot to that. But I had to sit down and be honest with myself, stop making excuses and finding explanations or ways out - did I want a relationship with Michael, did I just want to fuck Michael, or was I just confused and frustrated and latching onto him?” Ashton bites his lip. 

“Excuses and explanations?” he asks, and his voice sounds kind of small. 

“Yeah,” Calum says. “You know, ‘oh, it’s just because we’re best friends, I’m a teenager with hormones, I’m going through a dry spell’, that kind of stuff.” He’s giving Ashton a look as he says it, as though he knows those are the exact same things Ashton’s been telling himself. 

“Fuck you,” Ashton says weakly. He doesn’t need to say anything else. 

“Think about it, Ash,” Calum says gently. “I’m always here if you need to bounce off someone.” 

“Thanks, Cal,” Ashton says, and he means it.”I just- I’m scared. It’s Luke.” 

“I know,” Calum says, and of course he knows, he knows better than anyone else. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.” 

 ------- 

  3 weeks, 3 days, 17 hours 

It takes another four days to get Luke’s room painted, mainly because Luke’s a diva who demands snack breaks every half-hour, and then another day after that to convince him to put the furniture back in the room, because Ashton’s sick of manoeuvring around the bed in the bathroom to shower. Ashton doesn’t have time to think about The Situation because he wakes up next to Luke, spends all day painting with Luke, and then goes to bed with Luke. He barely has time to breathe on his own, to answer Calum and Michael’s texts without Luke seeing what he’s typing, so he pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and resolves for it to be a problem for Future Ashton. 

“Can we put the bed opposite the window?” Luke asks, when they start moving the furniture back into his room. 

“Sure,” Ashton says. 

“And the wardrobe by the far wall, and the desk next to it,” Luke says. 

“And the pouffe?” Luke considers for a moment. 

“To the right of the window,” he decides. “We should get a mirror, too. A floor length one.” Ashton smirks, not even registering the ‘we’. 

“Need something to wank to?” he asks. Luke throws him a mischievous grin.

“Not in this house,” he says, and then before Ashton has time to process what the fuck that means, he’s carrying on. “I think we should do the wardrobe first, because it’s going in the corner, and the bed last.” Ashton nods, filing Luke’s comment away in his mind alongside the other problems Future Ashton has to deal with, and bends down to pick up his side of the wardrobe. 

It takes them a solid hour to move all the furniture back into the room, largely because Luke’s fussy and wants things to change angles, wants the desk moved about thirty times and directs Ashton around with the pouffe so much that he eventually just drops it next to the window and tells Luke, more than a little irritably, to fucking move it himself. 

“You realise we’re going to have to do all of this again for your room?” Luke says, when Ashton comments that he’s so fucking glad that’s over. Ashton groans, tipping his head back against the freshly painted wall. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not going to take seventeen years to put the furniture back in my room, because I’m not a fucking prima donna,” he says. 

“I’m not a fucking-” Luke’s cut off by the loud sound of his phone ringing. “Prima donna,” he finishes, swiping on whoever’s calling. “Hey, Mike.” 

“Hey,” Michael says. “Where are you? Aren’t you at Ashton’s?” 

“I am,” Luke says, swivelling his phone around to show Ashton. 

“Hey, Mike,” Ashton says. 

“Hey,” Michael says, frowning and putting his face close to the camera. “Where the fuck is that?”

“Luke’s room,” Ashton says. “We redecorated.” Michael sits back, raising his eyebrows. 

“‘Luke’s room’?” he echoes. “Since when does Luke have a room in your house?” 

“No one else uses this room,” Ashton says. “No one else was stupid enough to move to Vegas.”

“Yeah, that was pretty fucking dumb,” Michael says. 

“Alright, fuck you,” Luke says, turning his phone back to face him. “Did you ring me just to bully me, or what?”

“No, but it’s an added bonus,” Michael says. “You guys must be going insane if you’re fucking redecorating.” 

“We’re doing Ashton’s room too,” Luke says. “Pale green.” 

“Nice,” Michael says approvingly. “We’re trying to teach Duke to bark on command.” 

“‘We’?” Ashton says sceptically. 

“Okay, I, and don’t tell Calum. The phrase is ‘best boyfriend’, because I’m sick of Calum referring to himself like that. I’m hoping making Duke bark every time he says it will stop him doing it.” Ashton and Luke both laugh. 

“He’s going to fucking hate you,” Luke says fondly. 

“He already does,” Michael says casually. “What’s new with you guys? Besides auditioning for Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.” 

“Nothing, really,” Luke says, with a shrug, casting a glance at Ashton, who shrugs back. “There’s only so much you can do in lockdown.” 

“True,” Michael says. “It’s shit not being able to annoy you every day.” That’s as close as they’re going to get to an I miss you, and they both know it.

“Love you too, Mikey,” Ashton says, at the same time as Luke says, “You’re allowed to express affection towards us, Mike, you know that, right?” 

“Shut up,” Michael says, but Ashton can hear the smile in his voice. “This is why I’m doing my lockdown with Calum, and not you two.”

“You live with Calum,” Luke says. 

“Yeah, and this is why I don’t live with you,” Michael says. “Anyway, I called because I wanted to know if you wanted to play something.” 

“Yeah,” Luke says. “Ash, can I use your desktop?” Ashton shrugs and nods.

“You gonna go on Twitch?” he asks Michael. 

“Might do,” Michael says. “You gonna watch?” 

“Maybe,” Ashton says.  

“You should join,” Luke says. “Get the viewers up.” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Michael says. “C’mon, Ash. We have to get our bills paid.”

“Twitch’ll only get your bills paid,” Ashton points out. 

“That’s already half the band.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ashton says. “I want to play for a bit, first. Haven’t had a chance in almost a week because of painting this room.” 

“How did it take you that long?” Michael wonders, and then immediately answers his own question: “Oh, right, Luke. Fucking diva.”

“I’m not - hey!” Luke says indignantly. 

“I bet you bitched about carrying the furniture in and out of the room,” Michael says knowingly. 

“It was fucking heavy,” Luke mumbles grumpily, getting off the bed and walking towards the door. “I’m going to log on now. What d’you want to play?” 

“Fortnite’s always a crowd-pleaser,” Michael says as Luke walks out of the room. Ashton follows a few paces behind him, peeling off at the top of the stairs to go down to the basement. 

“Have you told him yet?” he hears Michael say just before Luke slams the door to Ashton’s office shut. He wonders briefly what Luke’s supposed to tell who, before seeing that one of his toms has somehow fallen over and forgetting the train of thought entirely. 

 ------- 

  3 weeks, 3 days, 20 hours 

Ashton plays for a good forty-five minutes before he’s got most of his pent-up energy out, and he wanders upstairs to see what Luke’s up to. He can hear yelling from the office, so he assumes he’s still playing with Michael, and heads in to see Luke, headset on, leaning forwards in concentration. 

“Hey,” Ashton says. 

“Ash!” Luke says, pulling the headphones down to his neck and flashing Ashton a winning smile that definitely doesn’t make him slightly weak at the knees. “Hang on.” He reaches over and unplugs the headphones, and the room is suddenly filled with Michael swearing colourfully. 

“Hey, Mike," Ashton says. “Game going well, I see.” 

“It’s your fucking fault,” Michael shouts. “Luke got distracted when you came in, and died.”

“Oops,” Luke says, not sounding sorry at all. 

“Dickhead,” Michael says. Ashton walks over to Luke, hovering at his shoulder. One of the monitors has got Fortnite on it, big and bright, and Ashton can see Michael and a very fast-moving chat on the other one. 

“How the fuck do you read this chat?” Ashton marvels. 

“I don’t,” Michael says. “I can’t read.”

“This is why we need Ashton here,” Luke says. “Only one who finished school.”

“Is Ash gonna play?” Michael asks. 

“No,” Ashton says. “I fucking hate Fortnite, you know that.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Ash,” Michael wheedles. “For the fans. For the views. For getting my bills paid.” 

“I’ve been streaming CALM for like, a week,” Ashton says. “That’s paying your bills.” 

“And yours,” Michael remarks. 

“I need my bills paying,” Ashton says. “I’ve got extra costs right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael says. “Luke and Ashton have been sort of social-media-MIA, so you guys probably don’t know that they’re spending lockdown together.” Ashton kind of hates the way Michael made it sound like a choice. 

“Luke got stuck in California,” Ashton says, as an explanation, as he watches the chat somehow start moving even faster. 

“Yeah, and now they’re redecorating Ashton’s house together,” Michael says, and Ashton can see the smirk playing on his lips. It makes a hot flash of annoyance flare up in him - Michael’s doing this on purpose, riling him up, playing into the fans’ hands. 

“Have to find some way to pass the time,” Luke says, and he sounds surprisingly calm. 

“Yeah, how are you spending lockdown, Michael?” Ashton says. 

“Me? I’m doing great,” Michael says. “Training Calum’s dog.” 

“To do what?” Ashton’s pushing it, he knows. Michael and Calum haven’t come out yet, not officially - they haven’t said anything either way, and Ashton knows Calum would rather it stayed that way. He doesn’t like his private life mixing with his public life. 

“To obey commands,” Michael says smoothly. “Tends to be what you train a dog to do.” Ashton wishes Michael had never had PR training. 

“I’m going to tell Calum to train Duke to bite you,” he says darkly, because he can’t say you’re an arsehole without confusing everybody and probably causing some insane conspiracy theories about how the band’s about to break up to pop up online. 

“My ankles are terrified,” Michael deadpans. 

“Play with us,” Luke says to Ashton, gazing up at him pleadingly. Ashton swallows. Saying no to Luke’s puppy dog eyes has always been a challenge, even when he didn’t want to kiss him. 

“I don’t have anywhere to sit,” he says weakly. 

“Luke’s lap is right there,” Michael puts in. Ashton’s going to scream at him on FaceTime the moment this stream is over. 

“I’m too heavy,” Ashton says. 

“You sit on my lap all the time,” Michael says. 

“You’re sturdier than Luke.” 

“Hey,” Luke and Michael say at the same time, both affronted. Luckily, as though God’s sensing Ashton’s distress and is sending him a lifeboat, Ashton’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he fishes it out to see it’s Lauren calling. 

“Lauren’s calling,” he says, already halfway to the door. “I’ll speak to you later.” 

“Say hi from me,” Luke says. 

“And me,” Michael says. “Bye, Ash.” 

“Bye, guys!” Ashton calls, to whoever the fuck is on the stream (he doesn’t understand Twitch at all), and heads to his bedroom to take Lauren’s call, resolving to pay for her prom dress, or something. 

 ------- 

  3 weeks, 3 days, 22 hours 

Ashton’s phone buzzes continually through the movie he’s watching with Luke, Michael trying to FaceTime him at least six times until Ashton just turns his phone onto airplane mode and settles back to watch the rest of the film. He catches Luke frowning at him in his peripheral vision, but by the time he’s turned to look at him Luke’s eyes are focused on the screen again, and Ashton shrugs it off. 

He turns his phone back on again when Luke says he’s going to get ready for bed, and he has even more missed calls from Michael and some from Calum (which is probably Michael knowing Ashton’s ignoring him). 

Michael US New can we talk? 

Michael US New i’m sorry if i took it too far on twitch

Michael US New i didn’t know it was a big deal  

Michael US New  ash come on don’t be childish 

Michael US New call me back when you can 

Michael US New love you

Ashton sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, because he really can’t be fucked to have this conversation now, but he knows it’s childish to keep ignoring Michael for something so small and he doesn’t have an excuse to anymore, now that the film’s done. He swipes on one of Michael’s missed FaceTimes, and Michael picks up after three rings. 

“Are you done ignoring me now?” he asks evenly, and Ashton feels guilt starting to creep into his annoyance. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he is. It was childish. He almost adds I was watching a movie with Luke , but stops himself, because that’s just an excuse, and Michael would know it. 

“I’m sorry,” Michael says sincerely. “I didn’t know it would upset you that much. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” Ashton thinks that’s probably only half-true, because Michael loves pushing people’s buttons, pushing them too far, and doesn’t have a clear definition of boundaries because Calum’s so fucking zen that Michael can pretty much push him to the very edge before he tells him it’s enough. 

“It’s okay,” Ashton says, because it is - it’s not Michael’s fault, technically. It’s just Ashton overreacting to their usual banter. 

“Why’s it a big deal, though?” Michael says. “You’ve never cared before.” Ashton swallows, tugging on one of his curls. 

“Have you talked to Calum?” he asks. 

“Well, yes, we live in the same house,” Michael says. 

“I mean. About.” He swallows again. “This.” Michael frowns. 

“No,” he says. “If Calum doesn’t think I need to know, he doesn’t tell me. And that’s okay.” Ashton’s suddenly filled with a rush of love and affection for both Michael and Calum - Calum, for not telling Michael, his best friend, his boyfriend, his everything, what Ashton had told him, and Michael for being okay with Calum and Ashton, two of his best friends, keeping secrets from him. 

“Okay,” Ashton says. “I, uh. I don’t think I’m ready to tell you yet.” 

“Okay,” Michael says with a shrug, and it’s that easy. “But you know I’m here if you need me.” The guilt washes away the rest of the annoyance, and Ashton suddenly feels a bit sick. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says, hoping Michael understands what he’s apologising for. “I- fuck. I love you, Mikey.”

“Love you too,” Michael says, smiling fondly, and it’s a real, genuine smile, one that makes his eyes light up. It makes Ashton kind of see why Calum’s willing to go to the ends of the earth for Michael. 

“I miss you,” Ashton says. 

“I’m not surprised,” Michael says breezily, and Ashton rolls his eyes. “I miss you too, Ash. It’s not the same without you here.” 

“I know,” Ashton says, sighing heavily. “We should have just, like, all gone to yours, or you guys come here, or something.” 

“You want to hear three months’ worth of me and Cal’s sex life?” Michael asks, a smile tugging at his lips. Ashton pulls a face. 

“Fuck you,” he says. “I’m being cute here. Why’ve you got sex on the brain all the time?” 

“You would too if you were dating Calum,” Michael says. Ashton hears something on Michael’s end of the line that sounds suspiciously like Michael, baby, how long are you going to leave me tied up here? 

“What the fuck?” Ashton demands. “Did you call me halfway through having sex with Calum?” 

“Not quite halfway through,” Michael corrects, a mischievous grin on his face. “And technically, you called me.”

“You’re disgusting,” Ashton tells him. “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Probably for the best,” Michael agrees. “I’ve, uh, got places to be. Love you, Ash.” 

“Love you too,” Ashton says grudgingly, because he does, despite himself, and ends the call, trying his best not to think about what’s just happened, or what’s currently happening in the Hood-Clifford household. 

Gross. 

 ------- 

  3 weeks, 4 days, 1 hour 

It’s 1 a.m. when Luke knocks at his door. 

“Hey,” he says, peeking around the door. “Are you asleep?” 

“Yes,” Ashton says, just to be difficult. 

“Shut up,” Luke says automatically, shuffling into the room. He’s wrapped in his duvet, and looks incredibly...well, soft is the only word Ashton can think of. 

“What?” Ashton asks, rolling onto his back letting his forearm rest on his forehead. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“And that’s my problem because…?” Luke bites his lip. 

“Can I sleep here?” Ashton blinks. “I mean. It feels weird sleeping without you, now. But it’s okay if you want to sleep alone. Obviously.” A warm feeling floods Ashton’s stomach, and he tries to will it away.

“If you want,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. Luke’s face splits into a grin, and he shuffles towards the bed, flopping down on it when Ashton shifts up to make room.

“I even brought my own duvet,” Luke says, blinking at Ashton earnestly. Ashton’s treacherous mind flashes an image of him leaning down and pressing his lips to Luke’s softly in front of his eyes. 

“You did,” is all he can manage in response, trying to quash the fear rising in his chest. 

“Hey,” Luke says, eyes fluttering shut, and now that Ashton’s close he can see how sleepy Luke looks. “Stop thinking so much.” 

“I’m not,” Ashton lies, swallowing hard. 

“You are,” Luke says serenely. The dim light of the moon and light pollution is falling on Luke’s hair through a crack in the curtains, illuminating his soft blonde curls. Ashton thinks he looks a little bit like an angel. “Stop it. Go to sleep.” Ashton huffs out a laugh, hoping the edge of hysteria is only audible to him. 

“It’s not that easy, golden boy,” he says, aiming for sarcastic. A small smile finds its way onto Luke’s lips. 

“Golden boy,” he echoes. “I like it when you call me that.” 

“Go to sleep,” Ashton says, because he doesn’t trust himself to say anything else. 

“Golden boy,” Luke says again, smile audible, and he rolls onto his other side. 

Great. Well. Ashton’s not going to sleep tonight. 

 ------- 

  4 weeks, 13 hours

“Mike and Cal want to FaceTime tonight,” Luke says over lunch. “Apparently Michael’s really missing us. Calum suggested watching a movie together, or something.” It reminds Ashton of the conversation he’d had with Calum last week, which, in the midst of his badly-repressed romantic crisis, he’d somehow completely forgotten to tell Luke about. 

“You know Calum told me they almost broke up three years ago?” he says. Luke gapes at him. 

“What?” he says, mouth open in shock. Ashton nods as he brings another forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. “Mike and Cal?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says, when he’s finished chewing. “Did you know?” 

“No,” Luke says emphatically, now looking somewhere between confused and shocked. “What the fuck?” 

“I know,” Ashton agrees. 

“Why? When? What the fuck? What happened?”

“I don't know, he didn’t say,” Ashton says. “I was just so surprised that I never noticed.” 

“Well, I didn’t either,” Luke says. “Does that make us terrible friends?”

“Probably,” Ashton says. “Or it makes them good liars.” 

“They are good liars,” Luke muses. “God, I’m- I don’t even know what to think. What the fuck? Cal and Michael?” 

“I know,” Ashton says fervently, taking a sip of his juice. 

“How did that even come up?” Luke asks. Ashton shrugs. 

“Can’t remember,” he lies. Luke looks at him for a moment, and Ashton knows that look - it’s the should I, shouldn’t I look that Luke gets when he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure how to say it. 

“D’you think it would have fucked up the band?” he asks eventually, and his tone sounds a little too casual. Ashton shrugs, staring down at his pasta rather than meeting Luke’s eyes. “Like. Two people in the band dating, and then breaking up.” Ashton swallows, and reminds himself that Luke doesn’t mean what Ashton wants him to mean. 

“I don’t know,” he says, and then, feeling a spurt of courage: “Do you?” 

“I don’t know,” Luke echoes. “I hope not.” 

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Ashton says, because there’s no way Michael and Calum are breaking up now, and they’re the only two people in the band dating.  

“I guess it doesn’t,” Luke says, frowning down at his plate and stabbing at his pasta a little moodily. 

Ashton chalks it up to Luke being the last to find out about Michael and Calum, because he doesn’t like to be left out. He doesn’t really think it warrants that kind of a response, but Luke likes to overreact, so he lets him stew and finishes his pasta. 

 ------- 

  4 weeks, 4 days, 12 hours 

Ashton’s not sure why it’s been over a month since he last picked up a guitar. 

He’s been drumming, laying down some raw beats that he likes the sound of, and he’s even been fiddling around on his piano in the basement, but the first time he thinks about guitar is when he goes upstairs for some water after a particularly hard drumming session and hears Luke strumming and singing, muffled by closed doors. It’s soft, a little tentative, which is usually the mark of Luke writing. 

Ashton knocks on the door and Luke stops abruptly. 

“Yeah?” he says. Ashton cracks the door open and peers around. Luke’s sat cross-legged on the sofa, blonde curls falling in his face, Ashton’s second-favourite guitar in his lap. 

“You writing?” Ashton asks. Luke nods. 

“I’ve been writing for a few weeks,” he says. “When you drum.” Something about that sends a stab of hurt straight to Ashton’s heart. 

“D’you not want me to hear?” Ashton says, trying for nonchalant, but he hears the accusatory note in his own voice. Luke shrugs, a little uncomfortable. 

“I usually write the first bits alone,” he says. “Don’t usually show you guys until I have a little more of an idea where it’s going.” Ashton nods, swallowing away the bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Makes sense,” he says, because it does, even if he doesn’t like it. “Well. Let me know if there’s anything you want me to listen to, yeah?” Luke nods, and Ashton knows that’s his cue to leave. 

“You should use the Martin,” he adds, as he makes to leave; an olive branch. 

“I left that one for you,” Luke says. “In case you wanted to play. I know it’s your favourite.” 

Ashton thinks he might die. He’s never wanted to kiss anybody this much in his life, he’s pretty sure. 

“Oh,” he manages to get out. “That’s. Really thoughtful.” Luke shrugs, looking somewhere between embarrassed and pleased. “You can use it, though. I’m- uh. Going back downstairs.” Ashton turns on his heel and walks out, not throwing a backwards glance at Luke in case he does something fucking stupid like stride back over and kiss him. 

When he gets back to the basement, he picks up his phone and sends a text to Calum. 

Me I’m fucked 

Calum’s typing bubble appears immediately.

Calum US You want to talk about it? 

Ashton squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to think about it, just wants to fill his head with drums and make his muscles ache and tire himself out so he can just go straight to bed later, fall asleep and not have to dwell on any of this. 

Me No

Calum US Do you think you SHOULD talk about it? 

Ashton hates him. 

Me Yes 

Calum US Okay 

Calum US You know where to find me when you’re ready  

Ashton does, and he thinks it’s probably the only reason he hasn’t collapsed into a panicking mess on the floor. 

Me Love you

He sets his phone down, picks up his headphones, and loses himself in the music, letting the pain in his muscles drown out the panic in his mind. 

 ------- 

  4 weeks, 4 days, 18 hours 

In the end, it’s only three and a half hours until Ashton caves and rings Calum, who picks up after two rings. 

“Drummed yourself out?” Calum asks, even though Ashton’s not even sat at his kit. Ashton hates how well Calum knows him. 

“Fuck you,” he says. 

“What happened?” Ashton sighs. 

“He didn’t use my Martin,” he says helplessly. There’s a beat, and then-

“Sorry, I think your wifi’s cutting out,” Calum says. “All I heard was he didn’t use your Martin.”

“That’s all I said,” Ashton says. 

“Right,” Calum says slowly. “So. Let me get this straight. Luke didn’t use your favourite guitar, and...that made you want to fuck him?”

“Kiss him,” Ashton corrects. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, sorry, forgot we had to keep it PG,” he says. 

“He was writing,” Ashton says, electing to be the bigger person and ignore that comment, “and he used my Strat because he thought I might want to play and he knows the Martin is my favourite, so. He left it for me.” 

“That is kinda cute,” Calum admits. 

“I know,” Ashton moans. 

“Have you thought about it?” Calum asks. Ashton shakes his head. “C’mon, Ash. All you ever fucking do is think. Why not?” 

“Because he’s here,” Ashton says. “And- and what if I do like him? Or what if I think myself into liking him? What am I supposed to do then?” 

“That’s step two,” Calum says gently. “Step one is just figuring it out for yourself. Don’t overcomplicate it.” 

“I don’t want to figure it out,” Ashton says sullenly. 

“I know,” Calum says. “But that’s kind of why you have to. It’s not going away by not thinking about it, is it?” Ashton hates it when he’s right. 

“You know, I’m older than you,” he says moodily. “I know better than you.” Calum laughs. 

“Which is why you came to me for advice,” he says. 

“Fuck you,” Ashton says again, and Calum grins. 

“I-” he cuts himself off, looking up and over the camera. “What?” There’s the sound of someone shouting at him. “Can it wait a second? I’m on FaceTime.” There’s another pause. “With Ashton.” 

“Don’t mind me,” Ashton grumbles. Calum looks down at him again. 

“Sorry, it’s Mike,” he says, as if it would be anyone else. “Wants me to come in for dinner.” 

“You can go,” Ashton says. 

“Nah, he’s just being a bitch,” Calum says. “Cooked a fucking casserole, like he wasn’t the whitest person alive already.” He looks over the camera again. “I’ll be five minutes, Michael, it’s not going to go cold!” 

Ashton can make out the sound of Michael yelling: “It’s already going fucking cold!” 

“You’re so fucking melodramatic,” Calum calls back. 

“Fine, fuck you,” Michael shouts, and his voice is getting closer. “I’m going to date someone who appreciates my cooking.” Calum rolls his eyes, and then Michael’s coming into the frame, throwing himself down on the outdoor sofa next to Calum. 

“You’re making my casserole go cold,” he says accusingly, looking at Ashton. 

“It’s not going to go cold in five minutes,” Ashton tells him. Michael scowls, and Calum slips an arm around his waist, mindless and easy. Michael leans into Calum’s touch, resting his head on Calum’s shoulder. 

“Exactly,” Calum says, pressing a kiss to the top of Michael’s head, because physical touch from Calum is always a guaranteed way to bring Michael out of a strop. Michael huffs, but wraps an arm around Calum.

“I’m never cooking for you again,” he declares, but they all know that’s a lie. 

“Ashton will send me food,” Calum says, fingers threading through Michael’s hair. “Won’t you, Ash?”

“No,” Ashton says. “I’ve got my hands full trying to force Luke to do something more than make toast.” 

“See?” Michael says, looking up at Calum. “Be thankful you’re not living with Luke.” Calum rolls his eyes back, but he’s smiling fondly. 

Something about their interactions makes Ashton feel kind of empty. He sees Michael and Calum like this all the time, every day, but it feels like it’s the first time he’s actually seeing their interactions - the absent-minded touches, the fond looks - and it makes him ache a little. He wants that. He wants someone to look at him with that kind of affection, to touch him like that without even thinking about it, to share that kind of intimacy and love with. 

He tries his best not to let his mind wander to fantasies of having Luke’s arms wrapped around him whilst he’s cooking dinner, Luke curled up in his lap whilst a movie plays on the TV, Luke pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before they fall asleep, but the thoughts are so loud and pervasive, making Ashton squeeze his eyes shut as if it’ll wipe his mind clean. 

“I should go,” Ashton says, a bitter taste in his mouth all of a sudden. “I’m not sure I want Luke to be in the kitchen on his own.”

“Fucking hell, you’re not actually letting him cook, are you?” Michael says, sounding a little alarmed. “He told me he was helping, but I assumed that meant, like, laying the table, or something.” 

“I’m not his fucking mum,” Ashton grumbles. “Plus, he hasn’t burnt the house down, yet.” 

“Yet,” Calum says pointedly. 

“If he does, let me know, so I can bring my ice cold casserole over and heat it up again,” Michael says, throwing daggers at Calum. Calum just rolls his eyes again. 

“Alright, fucking hell,” he says. “Text me, Ash?” Ashton nods, finger already hovering above the ‘end call’ button. 

“Text me too,” Michael says. 

“No,” Ashton says. “You’ll just send me stupid memes that make no sense.” 

“Y’know, the fans have a point when they call you a boomer,” Calum says. Ashton scowls. 

“Fuck you,” he says. “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Good,” Michael says. 

“Fuck you too,” Ashton says. “Speak to you soon,” Calum says, pointedly, raising his eyebrows. Ashton doesn’t like what he’s implying.

“Fuck you, again,” Ashton says, and hangs up.

Fucking hell. 

 ------- 

  4 weeks, 6 days, 21 hours

The floodgates finally open two days later, despite Ashton’s best attempts to keep everything sealed away tightly in boxes in his mind labelled ‘Don’t Think About This’ and ‘You’re Just Going Through A Dry Spell’. 

They’re sat on the same sofa watching Harry Potter, because they’re sharing a bowl of popcorn and Ashton got sick of getting up every thirty seconds to grab another handful and just threw himself down next to Luke. 

“This is my favourite one,” Luke says off-handedly, when Harry goes into Diagon Alley for the first time. “Like, it’s so happy.” 

“There’s literally an attempt on his life at the end,” Ashton says. 

“Well, it’s happier than the others,” Luke says defensively, reaching for another handful of popcorn. 

“That’s not really a high bar,” Ashton points out. 

“Alright, what’s your favourite then?” Luke asks, watching Harry and Hagrid in Gringotts. 

“The last one,” Ashton says. 

“That’s the saddest,” Luke says. 

“No, they win the war.” 

“Yeah, but, like, hundreds of people die.” 

“Alright, it’s bittersweet,” Ashton allows. Luke rolls his eyes, shoving the rest of the popcorn in his hand into his mouth. Ashton should probably find it disgusting, but he doesn’t. 

They watch in silence for a while longer, Luke totally enraptured in the film, despite the fact they’ve seen it about forty times on Michael’s movie nights. It’s not until Harry’s in the Forbidden Forest in detention that Luke’s hand snatches out and grabs Ashton’s tightly. Ashton looks down, and then up at Luke’s face, hoping the surprise will outweigh the tension in his expression. 

“Don’t like this bit,” is all Luke offers as an explanation, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Well, stop watching, then,” Ashton suggests. 

“I have to watch,” Luke says. Ashton doesn’t think that makes any sense. 

“It’s not like you don’t know what happens,” Ashton says, and Luke’s grip on Ashton’s hand tightens as Harry stumbles across the hooded figure drinking from the unicorn. It kind of fucking hurts, so, just trying to get rid of the pain, Ashton turns his hand around so his palm is facing Luke’s, meaning their fingers tangle together loosely. Luke slots his fingers in between Ashton’s with purpose, making the hair on Ashton’s arms stand on end, but when he chances a look at Luke, he’s still focused on the film. 

Harry gets away, as he obviously always does, but Luke’s fingers don’t move out of Ashton’s. Ashton tries not to think about what that might mean, but his mind is in overdrive for the remainder of the film. Luke’s probably just forgotten, he tells himself, as he stares through the TV, not taking in any of the movie. He’s so enraptured in the film, he’s probably just not realised his fingers are still linked to Ashton’s. 

That theory, however, is out of the window when Harry approaches Professor Quirrell in front of the Mirror of Erised. 

“Why the fuck would you walk towards him?” Luke says, lifting their joined hands to indicate to the screen. 

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Ashton says, proud of how steady he’s able to keep his voice despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

“Worst house to be in,” Luke says decisively. “No sense of self-preservation. No wonder Harry keeps having near-death experiences.” 

“Yeah, well,” is all Ashton can muster weakly in response, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Luke’s already making a noise of frustration as Harry gets all the way up to Quirrell. 

Ashton swallows, trying to get some moisture back into his mouth, and wills himself not to think about the sensation of Luke’s hand, warm and slightly calloused in his own. 

“I love that movie,” Luke says passionately, when the credits start rolling, forcing Ashton back into reality. Luke’s got a happy little smile on his face, eyes lit up, and Ashton, thoughts having been on Luke for the past forty-five minutes, really, really wants to kiss him. 

So, instinctively, he does. 

He leans forwards, not thinking about what he’s doing, and cups Luke’s jaw with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed as he presses his lips to Luke’s. They’re soft, so fucking soft, and he can feel one of Luke’s curls brushing against the hollow of his eye, and he’s just so fucking overwhelmed with Luke, the feeling of Luke against him, the scent of Luke around him, the warmth emanating from his body, Luke, Luke, Luke. 

It’s a split second, but it feels like forever, the spell only broken when Luke makes a little noise - surprise? Distress? - and tilts his head, giving Ashton a better angle, and fucking kisses back. 

Ashton springs back, realisation hitting him like a sickening, ice-cold wave. 

He’s fucking kissing Luke. 

“Uh,” he says intelligently, taking in Luke’s red, spit-slicked lips, his wide, blue eyes, his dumbfounded expression. “I. Fuck.” Ashton jumps up, balling his hands into fists at his side, and stalks out of the room and into the basement. He got up too fast and his vision is swimming, but he pushes through it, figuring if he faints and falls down the basement stairs and dies - well, at least he won’t have to deal with the aftermath of what he’s just done. 

He sits down on one of the beanbags opposite his drum kit, the light of the basement suddenly too bright and making his head hurt, heart pounding in his ears, palms sweating, mouth dry. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, can’t even keep up with all the thoughts in his mind, and takes deeps breaths, exhaling and inhaling shakily. Breathe, he tells himself. Just fucking breathe. 

With fumbling hands, he slides his phone out of his pocket and dials Calum, who doesn’t pick up at first. 

“Fuck, c’mon,” Ashton mumbles, dialling again. Still nothing. Fuck. This is some sort of cosmic joke. What the fuck is he doing, anyway - he’s in fucking lockdown, it’s not like he’s busy. 

Ashton dials a third time, and this time, thankfully, Calum picks up. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, crease between his eyebrows, as he walks swiftly out of his living room and into the kitchen. 

“No,” Ashton says. 

“What happened?” Calum asks soothingly. Ashton reminds himself, again, to breathe. 

“I kissed Luke.” Calum blinks. 

“You- you kissed him?” Ashton nods, swallowing hard. “Okay. Breathe, Ash. Breathe.”

“‘M breathing,” Ashton says, but he does it anyway - in for seven, out for eleven. 

“Okay,” Calum says calmly. “D’you want to tell me what happened, or?” Ashton shakes his head. “Okay,” Calum says again. “D’you want me to talk?” Ashton nods. “Alright. Mikey and I are doing some garden-scaping, can you believe? I cut a fucking hedge today. I’ve never done anything that domestic in my life. We made a veggie lasagne for dinner - or, well, I made a veggie lasagne for dinner, and I made Michael a normal one, and Michael bitched about it not tasting the same because he thought I’d just made a veggie one for the both of us. He’s still sulking about that, actually.” Ashton huffs out a laugh at that, heartbeat slowing a little. That sounds like Michael. “I’ve been writing a bit, but nothing major. I’m using this as a bit of a break, trying to clear my mind, get myself back in a headspace I’m happy with. Michael seems to think ‘lockdown’ is synonymous to ‘play as many videogames during your waking hours as possible’, though. That’s why I made him start on the garden-scaping, actually. It’s the only way I can get him out of the house, and he’s starting to glow in the dark.” Calum pauses, and Ashton exhales again, far less shaky. 

“Thanks,” he says. 

“Always,” Calum says sincerely. “So? What happened.” 

“I don’t know,” Ashton says. “I- we were watching Harry Potter, and then he got scared, and held my hand, and then- he didn’t let go, and. I kissed him.” 

“Right,” Calum says. “Look, I know this is, like, emotionally distressing for you, and all, but who the fuck gets scared of Harry Potter?” Ashton laughs, a little hysterical. 

“I know,” he says emphatically. 

“So, he didn’t let go of your hand?” Calum says. Ashton nods miserably. 

“And he definitely didn’t forget he was holding my hand,” he adds. “He used our hands to point at the TV.” 

“Oh, Ash,” Calum says, with a sigh, closing his eyes. “You- you’re, like, new levels of stupid.” 

“I know,” Ashton says, because he knows he’s a fucking idiot for kissing Luke - he doesn’t need reminding. “I didn’t mean to kiss him.” 

“And? Did he- what did he do?” 

“He- I don’t- I mean, it seemed like...he kissed back?” Ashton says uncertainly. Calum pinches the bridge of his nose, and inhales deeply. 

“So why is this a problem?” Ashton gapes at him. 

“Are you even listening to me?” he demands. “I kissed Luke.” 

“Well, you said he kissed back,” Calum says. 

“I don’t know if he did,” Ashton says, distressed. “It just seemed like it.” 

“You- fucking hell. Ashton, will you listen to yourself? You kissed Luke, and he kissed b-” Ashton makes a noise of protest “-okay, probably kissed back.” 

“It’s just, like, what you do when someone kisses you, though,” Ashton says. “Like. It’s polite.” Calum puts his head in his hands. 

“You think Luke kissed you to be polite?” 

“Okay, not- fuck, not polite, but, like, on automatic pilot,” Ashton says hurriedly. 

“Fucking hell, Ash. This conversation has shaved a solid five years off my life,” Calum tells him. “And? How did you leave it?” 

“I, uh.” He knows Calum’s not going to like his answer. “Ran out?” 

“Ran out?” Ashton blinks sheepishly. “Christ. Make that ten years.” 

“It’s not funny,” Ashton protests, even though neither of them are laughing. 

“I know,” Calum says, voice softening again. “You should talk to him.” Ashton shakes his head. “Ash, you’ve just kissed the guy. The least you can do is talk about it.” 

“No,” Ashton says immediately, even though he knows he should. “I’m stuck in a house with him, Cal. It’ll be so fucking awkward.” 

“So, what, your grand plan is to just...avoid him? Move into the basement?” Ashton nods miserably. “That’s fucking stupid, and you know it. That’s going to make you both miserable.” 

“It can’t be any worse,” Ashton says, picking at a loose thread on his jumper. Calum frowns. 

“Look, I’m not going to intervene,” he says, “yet. But you have to talk to him.” 

“What do you mean, yet?” Ashton says, a shade indignantly. 

“Well, it’s my fucking band too, isn’t it?” 

“Nothing’s happened!” Ashton says. “The band’s fine!” Calum shoots him a look. 

“Talk to him,” he says. Ashton’s shoulders slump. “Hey. You’re alright, Ash. I’ve got you.” 

“I know,” Ashton says. “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Calum says. “Go and get your boy.” 

“He’s not my boy,” Ashton says, but Calum’s already hung up. “Fuck you,” he says to his contact list, before pocketing his phone again and standing up, taking a deep breath to steel himself. 

It’s just Luke, he tells himself as he walks back up the stairs. He talks to Luke all the time. This isn’t going to be any different. 

Luke’s not in the living room where Ashton left him, and Ashton has a brief moment of panic as he takes the stairs two at a time, thinking Luke might have left the fucking house in lockdown, but he finds Luke in Ashton’s room, pillow and duvet in hand. He looks like a deer in headlights when he sees Ashton in the doorway. 

“What are you doing?” Ashton blurts, cursing inwardly as soon as the words have left his mouth, because that’s not what he came here to say. 

“I, uh. I think. I should probably sleep in my room,” Luke says, biting his lip. Ashton’s stomach sinks. 

Fuck. Ashton’s fucked things up. 

“You don’t have to,” he tries. 

“I should,” Luke mumbles. Ashton feels sick. 

“Okay,” he says. Luke breaks the gaze first, busying himself with gathering all his belongings, which are strewn across the room by now - phone charger next to Ashton’s, book he’d been reading on the bedside table, pyjamas crumpled on the floor like they always are - and walks over to the door. Ashton, not quite processing what’s going on, takes a second to move aside, and it’s the most uncomfortable second of his life. 

“Night, then,” Luke says, awkwardly. 

“Night,” Ashton echoes, and he can do nothing but watch helplessly as Luke trails into his room and shuts the door behind him. 

Fuck. 

 ------- 

  5 weeks, 8 hours 

Ashton, predictably, doesn’t sleep a fucking wink. 

He drags himself out of bed at eight a.m., figuring he’s just fucked on the sleep front, and tiptoes to the shower, ears straining in case Luke’s already awake. He hears Luke’s door open at quarter past over the sound of the rushing water - boiling hot, but Ashton can’t even feel it on his skin - and stands under the stream until his skin is wrinkled, waiting to hear it shut again. It does at half past, and Ashton gets out, towels himself off quickly, and all but runs back to his room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he can. 

He’s not hungry enough for breakfast, the conversation of last night still weighing down on his stomach, and when lunchtime rolls around, he finds he’s not hungry enough for that either. He spends the whole morning replying to emails he’s been ignoring, forcing himself to find something that takes so much of his concentration that he can’t think about Luke, and has actually caught up on all of his admin stuff by three p.m.. That, however, leaves him with only two choices - risk going downstairs to the basement, or stay in his room indefinitely and hope the lockdown ends before he starves to death. 

Ashton’s dithering is interrupted by a buzzing on his bedside table, and he looks over to see Calum calling him. He lets it ring out, because the second-last thing he wants to do right now (after ‘talk to Luke’) is relive last night. 

Calum, though, is persistent, and despite Ashton turning his phone over so he won’t see it light up, it keeps buzzing, eventually irritating him so much that he just picks up. 

“What,” he snaps. Calum arches an eyebrow. 

“Afternoon to you too,” he says. 

“What,” Ashton repeats, no kinder than before. 

“What happened?” 

“He hates me,” Ashton says flatly. “So.” 

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Calum says. 

“He told me he should sleep in his room again. And I said he didn’t have to, and he said he did. So.” Ashton shrugs, as if it’ll dull the searing hurt that’s seeping into every pore of his body. 

“Oh, Ash,” Calum says, and he sounds genuinely sorry. 

“Don’t,” Ashton says dully. “I don’t want to hear it.” Calum nods, biting his lip. 

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks. Ashton shrugs again. 

“Surgically remove my emotions?” 

“So you do like him?” Ashton huffs out a humourless laugh. 

“I think we’re a bit beyond that debate, Cal,” he says. Calum’s expression softens. 

“I’m sorry,” he says honestly. 

“It’s okay,” Ashton says. “It is what it is.” 

“D’you want to go?” Calum asks. Ashton nods. Talking is just tiring him out. “Okay. But- don’t shut yourself away, okay? You’ve got me, and Mikey. We love you.” 

“Love you too,” Ashton mumbles listlessly. Calum hesitates, like he’s going to say something else, but then just sighs. 

“I really do love you,” he says. 

“You too,” Ashton says. Calum sends him another sad smile, and then Ashton’s staring at his lock screen. Somehow, even though he’d wanted Calum to go, he feels even more lonely now, his bedroom feeling even more empty. He doesn’t want to call Calum back, though, because he knows it’ll just be more sad smiles and worried sighs, and he’s got nothing else to do in his bedroom that’ll take his mind off Luke so he braces himself and gets out of bed to go to the basement. 

His heart is pounding as he jogs downstairs, not relenting until he’s slammed the basement door shut behind him a little louder than he’d wanted to and made his way over to his kit. He pulls his headphones over his head, puts his music on shuffle and then skips at least fifteen songs until he finds one he actually knows on drums, and starts playing. 

He forces himself to put his all into playing, so focused on getting the fills just right that he doesn’t have time to think about Luke, switching songs to something harder anytime he catches his mind wandering, keeping himself occupied. He’s exhausted by the time he looks at his phone and sees it’s eight p.m., running on zero sleep and zero food, and he’s got a headache from not drinking enough water. He is pretty fucking thirsty, especially after playing for hours, so he pads up the stairs and stands by the door to the basement for a moment, listening for any sounds from the kitchen. He doesn’t hear anything, luckily, so he chances it and slips out hesitantly, speed-walking over to the sink and grabbing a glass. 

He gulps down three glasses of water and is just filling up the fourth when he hears a sound behind him and whips around in shock. 

“Uh,” Luke says, looking around the room wildly. He looks a mess, Ashton notes. “I, um. Making dinner.” 

“Oh,” Ashton says. “Sorry. Uh, I was getting water.” He holds up the glass, as if it’ll end the sheer fucking awkwardness of this interaction. “Sorry. I’m- um. Going back upstairs.” Luke just nods, biting his lip, and stands aside for Ashton to walk past. Ashton catches a brief, faint imprint of Luke as he passes him, slightly stale cologne and soap, and it makes his heart ache. 

He only realises when he gets up to his room that he hasn’t eaten a single thing today, and, despite still having no appetite, thinks he’ll probably pass out if he doesn’t, so digs out the only thing he has in his room - a bar of chocolate - and forces it down himself. He washes it down with the glass of water, wishing he’d taken a bigger glass, and settles back down in bed, feeling the exhaustion catching up with him. Fucking finally. 

He rolls over, not bothering to close the curtains or plug his phone in, and lets himself drift off into an uneasy, dreamless sleep. 

 ------- 

  5 weeks, 1 day, 13 hours 

Ashton doesn’t get up until midday, and then plugs in his dead phone and fucks around on his laptop a bit until he can no longer ignore the growling in his stomach. He hasn’t heard Luke’s door since he woke up, which either means he’s been downstairs the whole time, or he’s holed up in his room, which Ashton prays is the case. He feels a bit woozy as he goes downstairs - he supposes a chocolate bar isn’t really enough to tide an active twenty-five year old man over for a whole day - and decides to just put the kettle on and make some pasta, sinking down into a chair because he doesn’t trust himself to stand up for the length of the time the kettle takes to boil. 

He eats listlessly, not liking the feeling of the food in his mouth and forcing himself to swallow, eating as fast as he can with the ever-present threat of Luke coming downstairs hanging over his head. He makes it safely, though, even managing to wash up and put his pan away before slinking upstairs. He hears Luke’s door click open a few seconds after he’s clicked his own shut, and his stomach flips unpleasantly - conclusive proof that Luke’s actively avoiding him. 

It’s another few hours before Ashton realises he really, really needs to piss, and he hadn’t been paying attention to whether or not Luke had actually come back earlier, so he gives it until he’s pretty much ready to wet himself and then bolts out of his room - straight into Luke, who’s coming up the stairs. 

“Hi,” Luke says, a little nervous. Ashton groans inwardly. This is not the fucking moment. 

“Hi,” Ashton says, eyes flicking to the bathroom door. 

“Can we talk?” Luke says. 

“Uh,” Ashton says, looking towards the bathroom again. “Can it wait?” Luke looks a little taken aback. 

“Oh,” he says, in a small voice. “Uh. I guess.” Ashton nods curtly, mind on nothing but how badly he needs to fucking empty his bladder, and pretty much sprints into the bathroom, sighing in relief as he finally gets to the toilet. 

He starts thinking about what Luke had said as he’s washing his hands - for thirty seconds, of course - and a sense of dread settles in his stomach. What’s Luke going to say? Is he going to end the band? Say he wants to move back to Australia, get away from Ashton? 

Ashton dawdles drying his hands, not wanting to face whatever Luke’s going to throw at him, but eventually, when his hands are starting to actually get exfoliated by the towel, he drops it reluctantly and unlocks the bathroom door, ready to knock on Luke’s door. Just as he’s raising his hand, though, he hears a soft murmur of voices from inside - Luke, and a female voice. He can’t make out what they’re saying, because Luke’s speaking incredibly quietly, but it sounds like it could be Liz on the phone if the accent’s anything to go by. Ashton’s stomach twists. He’s probably getting advice on how to tell Ashton he doesn’t want to be in a band with him anymore. 

He walks into his own room quickly, shutting the door as silently as he can, and flops down onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling equal parts incredibly sorry for himself and sick. 

He’s well and truly fucked things up. 

 ------- 

  5 weeks, 4 days, 15 hours 

The next few days continue in pretty much the same pattern. 

Ashton gets up and showers, during which time Luke goes downstairs and makes himself breakfast. Ashton waits for Luke to come back before he leaves the bathroom and gets himself brunch, and then waits for Luke to go down to make lunch until he can slip into the basement. Luke makes sure to be done with dinner by eight so Ashton can go upstairs and cook for himself, and then they both spend their evenings locked in their respective rooms. 

It’s fucking miserable. 

Ashton hasn’t had any human contact in, like, four days, and he’s struggling, so he can’t even imagine how Luke’s coping. He can sometimes hear the soft murmur of voices floating through the wall but always puts his headphones on, not wanting to think about Luke ringing around telling people he’s quitting the band as soon as lockdown is over because Ashton came onto him and made things fucking awkward. 

Calling Calum helps, a bit, because he gets it, and he just sits there in silence, going about his day and saying nothing, just so Ashton isn’t sat, desperately lonely, in his room or in the basement. But it’s not the same, and Ashton finds he’s not just missing human contact - he’s missing Luke. 

He misses the way they’d bicker over dinner, how Ashton would try and force Luke to take more of a responsibility in cooking and Luke would pout and refuse, misses the way Luke’s face would light up when Ashton complimented him, misses the light-hearted way Luke would tease him for taking two showers a day, misses the warmth of Luke next to him in bed and his blue eyes blinking sleepily up at Ashton in the morning. 

It’s fucking pathetic. Ashton’s never been so broken-hearted, not after any of his breakups. He’s deflated, listless, lifeless. 

On the fifth day, however, he’s jolted out of his moping in the late afternoon by a hesitant knock at his door. 

“Yeah?” he says, heart suddenly beating too fast, because it can only be Luke. The door opens, revealing an anxious-looking Luke standing in the doorway. 

“Hi,” Luke says. 

“Hi,” Ashton says, swallowing hard. He looks fucking gorgeous, and Ashton wants nothing more than to reach out, pull him close. He’s suddenly very aware of how disgusting he must look - he’s barely changed out of his pyjamas for almost a week. 

“I, uh. Need to speak to you,” Luke says. Ashton’s stomach bottoms out. 

“Please don’t leave the band,” he says, all in a rush. “I’m- I’m sorry. Just. Please.” Luke’s brow furrows. 

“I’m, uh. Not leaving the band,” he says, and Ashton feels a wave of relief so strong wash over him that were he not lying down, he thinks his knees would buckle. 

“Oh,” he says. “Well. Good.” They stare at each other for a moment. “Uh. What was it that you wanted to talk about?” 

“Oh,” Luke says, as though he’s just remembered, and shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’m. Going.” 

“Going?” Ashton’s confused. 

“Yeah,” Luke says nervously. “To Mike and Cal’s.” 

“But you- we’re in lockdown,” Ashton says. 

“Well, I’ve been here long enough that I can be certain I’m not contagious, and the same goes for Mike and Calum,” Luke says. “And I’m not going to leave the house at all after I go to theirs, just in case, and I’m going in my car, so.” He shrugs, and Ashton’s stomach sinks. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says. “I- fuck. I didn’t mean to fuck things up.” 

“It’s okay,” Luke says, sounding a little sad. “You made a mistake. And, like, you can’t help how you feel.” 

“I don’t want you to go,” Ashton blurts, even though that’s fucking obvious, given that he fucking kissed Luke. He scrambles out of bed, lurches to his feet, and takes a step towards Luke before thinking better of it. Luke probably doesn’t want to be near him right now. 

“I- what?” Luke sounds a little confused, and Ashton opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by Luke’s phone ringing. Fucking typical. 

“Sorry,” Luke says, and he has the grace to look embarrassed as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “I- fuck, sorry, I really should take this. It’s Michael.” 

“Oh,” Ashton says. It kind of stands to reason, because Luke’s about to go to their house. As Luke swipes on his phone, Ashton’s own phone starts buzzing on his bedside table, and he reaches over to see it’s Calum. Fuck it, he thinks, as Luke waits for his phone to connect - if Luke’s going to talk to Michael, he can talk to Calum.

“Don’t fucking come here!” Michael’s voice yells, all of a sudden, making both Luke and Ashton jump. 

“What?” Luke says, sounding bewildered. “Why no-” 

“Don’t let Luke leave!” Calum shouts, and Ashton nearly drops his phone in surprise. 

“What th- are you okay? Are you sick?” Ashton’s first thought is fuck, are they ill? Have they got it? 

“I’m sorry, Luke,” Michael says, all in a rush. “I promised I wouldn’t tell Cal, but he mentioned something, and we both-” 

“Is that Michael?” Calum says, and Ashton looks down to see him rushing from their bedroom into the living room. “Mike, are you calling Luke?” 

“Yeah, I have to-” 

“I’m on the phone to Ashton,” Calum says. 

“I’m with Luke,” Ashton says. 

“Oh,” Michael says. “Well. That makes things easier.” Luke’s phone beeps, and Ashton looks over to see that Michael’s hung up and shuffled into frame on Ashton’s phone. “You guys have to talk to each other.” 

“Mike,” Luke says, and he sounds pleading. He throws Ashton a nervous look. “Don’t.” 

“No, you have to fucking tell him,” Michael presses. 

“Ash, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell him, but Michael worked it out, and-” Calum starts, but Michael interrupts.

“You guys are fucking-” 

“Michael.”

“-okay, you’re not the most intelligent, how’s that?” 

“What the-” Ashton starts indignantly, but Michael cuts him off. 

“Luke, tell him,” he says. 

“Mike, I told you-” 

“Ash,” Calum says, much gentler than Michael. “Why did you kiss Luke?” Ashton blanches. 

“What the fuck?” he whispers, because this wasn’t part of the fucking deal. He told Calum in confidence . And sure, Ashton knows, Calum knows, and clearly Luke knows, which is seventy-five percent of the room, but still. It’s a forbidden topic. 

“Why?” Calum pushes. 

“Cal,” Ashton says weakly, because he doesn’t think he can take this kind of humiliation in front of his two other best friends. He’s steadfastly not looking at Luke - he doesn’t think he could handle the shame. 

“Why?” Calum asks again, firmly. No one speaks for a good few seconds, and the tension hangs thick in the air.

“Because I like him,” Ashton mumbles eventually, when it becomes clear no one else is going to speak. 

“Fucking finally,” Calum mutters. 

“You- what?” Luke sounds absolutely nonplussed. 

“I like you, okay?” Ashton says, feeling like a fucking fourteen year old. He’s still staring at the floor. “I- I didn’t, and then I did, and. Then I kissed you. And you didn’t, like.” He shrugs, wishing whatever sins he’s committed in his life would all catch up to him at the same time and God would smite him on the spot. 

“But- you ran away,” Luke says, still sounding perplexed. “And when I tried to talk to you, you- you didn’t want to.” 

“What?” Ashton says. “When?” 

“You ran to the bathroom,” Luke says. 

“I- fuck, Luke, I needed to piss,” Ashton says. 

“Oh,” Luke says. “But. You still ran away.” 

“I was scared,” Ashton says. “Like. If I’d fucked things up, with you, with the band.” 

“Oh,” Luke says again, and Ashton finally chances a look at him. He looks baffled, but a small smile is spreading across his face. 

“Luke?” Michael prompts. 

“I, uh.” Luke swallows, smiling properly now. “I like you too?” 

“Fucking finally,” Michael says, sounding relieved, and then Ashton’s phone beeps. 

They’re alone. 

“You- what?” Ashton’s not quite sure what he’s just heard. 

“I- I thought you knew how I felt, and you regretted it because you ran away, and you didn’t feel the same as me, because I- don’t make me say it again,” Luke says, a pleading note to his voice, but he’s still smiling. “Do you- do you really?” 

“Really what?” 

“Like me,” Luke says, sounding like a fourteen year old. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says boldly.  

“Oh,” Luke says, full-on grinning now. “Oh.” 

“And- and you like me?” Ashton says. “Like, romantically?” Ashton has to be sure that he’s understanding this correctly. 

“Ash, I’ve been trying to hit on you for the past six weeks,” Luke says, rolling his eyes, still grinning. 

“You have?” Ashton says, surprised, and then- oh. Oh. Luke watches the realisation dawn on Ashton’s face, and snorts. 

“Yeah,” he says pointedly. 

“Oh,” Ashton says, a warm feeling starting to unfurl in his stomach, a smile forming on his lips. 

“Yeah,” Luke says again, and they stand there for a moment, grinning at each other. 

“So,” Ashton says, a little nervously. “I can kiss you?” 

“Please,” Luke says emphatically, and Ashton laughs, elation bubbling in his chest, and crosses the room in two strides to kiss Luke. They’re both still grinning, lips pressed together awkwardly, and Ashton’s momentum makes Luke stumble backwards a little. He finds his balance quickly, though, and wraps an arm around Ashton’s waist, pulling him closer, and Ashton tilts his head a little to give him a better angle. Then - finally - they’re properly kissing, Luke’s lips slotted soft and warm against Ashton’s. Ashton slides one hand to the nape of Luke’s neck, resting in the nest of curls there, and slips the other around Luke’s waist, trying to imprint this moment - the feeling of Luke against him, around him - in his memory forever, atom for atom. 

They kiss a little tentatively at first, unsure what the boundary is, what’s okay, but the tension soon drains from Luke’s shoulders and he kisses a little more desperately, a little more like he has something to prove. Ashton tries not to think about the little keening noises Luke’s making, tries not to let them go straight to his dick, but kisses back harder, steadying Luke with the arm around his waist when it seems like he might stumble again. 

Eventually, the kiss turns slow, languid, easy, as it really sinks in - Ashton’s kissing Luke, and Luke’s kissing back. Something’s burning warm in Ashton’s stomach, heating him from the inside out, spreading through his veins like lazy flames, making him smile into the kiss, and feels Luke smiling against his lips too. 

Eventually, Ashton breaks away, a little breathless, and he’s not sure whether that’s because of the kiss or because of Luke. 

“Fuck,” he says, dropping his head onto Luke’s shoulder and pressing a soft kiss there. 

“We just kissed,” Luke says, and he sounds kind of awe-struck. 

“We did that, like, last week,” Ashton points out. 

“Shut up,” Luke says, and it’s fond, and it sounds like Calum speaking to Michael, and Ashton doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. 

“So,” he says hopefully, drawing back a little to look at Luke. He kind of likes that Luke’s a little taller than him, likes that he feels a little small and protected in Luke’s arms. “Does this mean you’re going to sleep in here again?” 

Luke just grins at him. 

 -------

  8 weeks, 3 days, 13 hours 

“I am not moving that fucking bed out of your room,” Luke says pointedly, drying the glass Ashton hands him with a tea towel. 

“Well, I’m not having my bed get splattered with paint because you don’t know how to handle a paintbrush,” Ashton shoots back, scrubbing a plate. Luke scowls at him. 

“I know how to handle a fucking paintbrush,” Luke says sulkily, putting the glass back in the cupboard, and then brightens a little as he smirks, and adds: “I know how to handle a lot of things.” 

“The truth not being one of them, apparently,” Ashton says, dodging the towel that Luke swats in his direction. “C’mon, Luke. We’re stuck at home, we’ve watched every film on Netflix, we’ve fucked ourselves raw - we’ve run out of condoms, actually, is that on the shopping list?”

“Yeah,” Luke says.

“Right,” Ashton continues, “we’ve fucked ourselves raw, we’ve decorated your room, we’ve written songs, and we’ve already got the paint.” Luke groans, tipping his head back in frustration. 

“I don’t want to have to spend a whole week dodging a bed in the bathroom again,” Luke says. 

“Well, if you’re not such a fucking bitch about it this time, it’ll be done in less than a week,” Ashton notes, handing him the last bit of cutlery to dry off and draining the sink. Luke flips him off after drying the cutlery, placing it back in the drawer and hanging the tea towel off the front of the oven. 

“I was not a bitch about it,” he says petulantly, but he’s slipping his arms around Ashton’s waist as he says it, resting his chin on Ashton’s shoulder. It sends a thrill shooting through Ashton’s body, the same thrill he’s been experiencing for a good three weeks now - Luke is his, now. Still his best friend, still doesn’t pick up his fucking towels in the morning, still stomps away from an argument and then comes running back a few minutes later, but also more, also the man who kisses Ashton’s temple softly when he thinks Ashton’s asleep, who moans so fucking prettily when Ashton’s in between his thighs, who reaches for Ashton’s hand when he’s scrolling through his phone, just because. Ashton hums at the thought, tilting his head to one side to make room for Luke, and slots his wet fingers in between Luke’s, who makes a noise of disgust. 

“Gross,” he complains, and Ashton grins, spinning around in Luke’s grasp and looping his arms around his neck, letting his fingers trail cold and wet down Luke’s spine. Luke shivers and squirms, but doesn’t try to pull away. “Stop it, ew.” 

“Say you’ll help me move the furniture out of my room,” Ashton says, wiping the back of his fingers on Luke’s neck. Luke brings his shoulders up to his ears in an attempt to stop Ashton’s hands moving. 

“Fine, fuck, I’ll help you move the fucking bed,” Luke says, and Ashton stops, and leans up to press a chaste kiss to Luke’s lips. 

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart,” he says, and Luke smiles at him, bright and mischievous. 

“I said the bed,” he says. “You’re on your own with the wardrobe.” 

“Arsehole,” Ashton says, but he’s grinning too. 

“Actually, I’ve been thinking,” Luke says, and he sounds a little nervous. 

“God, you’re getting experimental,” Ashton says, earning himself another scowl from Luke. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Luke says. “I kind of like LA, now I’ve got you here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Ashton says, trying not to look like his heart is bursting at the idea that he’s the reason Luke’s changed his mind on LA. “Are you going to buy yourself a place?” Luke bites his lip. 

“Well,” he says, and it dawns on Ashton what he’s saying. 

“Oh,” he says, a smile creeping onto his face. “Luke Hemmings, are you asking me to ask you to move in?” Luke drops his forehead onto Ashton’s shoulder. 

“No,” he says weakly, sounding embarrassed. Ashton shrugs his shoulder, forcing Luke to move his head back up. 

“You are,” he says teasingly. “You want to live with me.” 

“I do live with you,” Luke says. 

“You know what I mean,” Ashton says. 

“Fuck you,” Luke says, but there’s no heat behind the words, just a touch of self-consciousness. “You can just say no.” 

“I’m not saying no,” Ashton says. 

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you’re saying yes.” 

“Alright, how does this sound?” Ashton says, using his arms around Luke’s neck to pull him closer. “What should we do with the spare room?” Luke frowns at him for a moment, then, as realisation dawns on him, a slow smile spreads across his face. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says. “I mean, we already live together. Plus, you have a house in Vegas, and I want a holiday home.” Luke snorts. 

“I think we should turn it into a studio,” Luke says, and it takes Ashton a moment to remember what he’s talking about. 

“I have a studio,” he says. 

“Yeah, in the basement, you fucking vampire,” Luke says. 

“How much money do you think I have?” Ashton demands. “I can’t just rebuild my entire studio upstairs because golden boy wants to catch some fucking rays.” He doesn’t miss the way Luke’s lips quirk up at ‘golden boy’. 

“Okay, how about a gaming room?” 

“You don’t even play that much,” Ashton says. Luke rolls his eyes. 

“Fucking hell, alright, a sex dungeon,” he suggests sarcastically. Ashton opens his mouth, and then shuts it again. 

“You know what?” he muses, grinning when Luke sighs dramatically. “Alright, how about an office?” Luke frowns. 

“You have an office,” he says. 

“Your office,” Ashton says. Luke blinks, and then smiles. 

“Oh,” he says, sounding way too happy for someone talking about offices. “I mean. I’d rather just have a desk in your office.” Ashton rolls his eyes then, hard. 

“You’re fucking impossible,” he says. “I guess it’ll just have to stay a guest room.” Luke pulls Ashton tighter to him, their bodies pressed against each other top to toe. 

“You better not be planning on inviting any other hot young men living in Vegas around,” he says warningly. Ashton blinks up at him, a small smile unfurling on his lips. 

“I’ve already got the best one,” he says, and Luke grins at him. 

“You’re a fucking romantic,” he says. 

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” Ashton continues, eyes glinting, and Luke squawks indignantly and squeezes Ashton’s waist, making him squeal and squirm in Luke’s grasp. “Dickhead,” he says, when the sensation fades. Luke just grins, and presses a kiss to Ashton’s forehead. 

“I love you,” Luke says, and Ashton’s not quite sure how he means it, but that’s okay. 

“I love you too,” Ashton says, and he’s not quite sure how he means it, but that’s okay.