Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Whoever invented the telephone —talking on the phone in particular— is Luke’s number one biggest enemy of all time. 

That’s probably a lie, but right now, Alexander Graham Bell is pretty damn high up on Luke’s list of people he hates. 

The second name on that list is whoever is calling him right now. 

The red LED lights on the alarm clock blink just past midnight as Luke rubs at his eyes and feels around for his phone. He’s only been asleep for all of an hour and the abrupt awakening is making it hard to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds. 

By the time he gets a hand on his phone, the call has stopped, leaving nothing but the “missed call - Michael” notification in the sea of others on Luke’s lock screen. Luke squints harder at the harsh light, debating back and forth on whether or not to call him back. Leaving the missed call until the morning would mean he might actually get a normal amount of sleep for the first time in months, but will the anticipation of wondering just why Michael was calling outweigh his ability to fall back to sleep? 

In the end, Michael makes the decision for him by calling again, filling the screen with a horrible picture that has one of his nostrils taking up the majority of the space, the rest covered by skin and a tiny fleck of his green eye. 

“Who’s dead,” Luke mumbles into the phone, laying back on his pillow. If he’s going to be forced to interact with someone right now, he might as well do it in a way that’s comfortable. 

“No one,” Michael snorts, but he sobers up instantly. “But Ashton needs us.” 

“Ashton can need us at a normal hour, I’m sleeping,” Luke replies, curling over onto his side. 

“Ashton needs us now , Luke,” Michael says, eerily serious despite his inability to ever stay serious about anything. That very thought is what has Luke sitting up again. 

“Why?” 

“Spencer left.” 

“Where’d he go?” Luke asks, trying to connect the dots. Spencer leaving isn’t normally something Luke would get a midnight call about. There’s no reason that Ashton’s boyfriend going somewhere is worth getting woken up for. 

“No, like, Spencer left, as in he broke up with Ashton.” 

“Wait, what the fuck?” 

Those words just make no sense. Ashton has been dating Spencer for longer than Luke has even known him; there’s no fucking way Spencer broke up with him. That’s just not possible. Blame it on his sleep-slow mind, but this makes no sense. 

“Exactly, so can you get to Ashton’s house? Cal is already there, I’m on my way.” 

“Yeah, fuck,” Luke says, swinging his feet out of bed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

Michael makes a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his throat. “Cool, you may beat me there, but I’ll see you soon. Love you.” With that, the line goes dead. 

Stumbling through his bedroom, Luke’s mind shoots in a million different directions. What are you supposed to wear to comfort your friend who’s been through a breakup? It’s been years since he’s had to console someone like this, probably since high school, maybe college. Especially not someone like Ashton, who was on track to marry Spencer if only one of them would gather the nerves to ask the other. 

Which leads him once again to what the fuck? He trips over his sneakers by the front door as he tries to put on his shoes and grab his keys at the same time. Ashton and Spencer have always been a package deal, both working at the University in the city, thankfully in different departments or else this would be even more difficult than it already is going to be. 

He stops as he goes to open the car door. This is going to be really, really difficult. Luke may not have any ties to Spencer, but Michael and Calum are both friends with him too, so what the fuck are they supposed to do about all of this? Luke can be loyal to Ashton easily, but is this going to tear their friend group apart? 

How about we get into the car and go check on Ashton before we start catastrophizing , Luke’s brain so cleverly inserts. 

Those thoughts don’t stop as he drives down silent streets, passing by all the sleeping houses. The recurring theme through all of his worries is how Ashton is doing. Luke himself hasn’t been in a relationship that’s lasted longer than a year at most, so he can’t even begin to fathom how heartbreaking it must be to lose someone that you’d created a life with for nearly six fucking years. 

He’s lost friends though, and while it’s probably less intense than losing a romantic love, he at least can empathize with Ashton. To have someone ripped from your life unexpectedly leaves a jagged edge, and while time can start to sew the pieces back together, you’re always going to be able to see the stitches holding the pieces in place. 

In those times, all he wanted was someone to listen to him, so listening is exactly what he will do for Ashton unless he’s told otherwise. 

Michael’s car isn’t in the driveway when Luke pulls in, but Calum’s car is parked right where Spencer’s car should be. It’s such a simple detail but it jars Luke for a moment, needing more information about just what the hell went down to bring him to Ashton’s house in the middle of the night. 

The hall light is on when Luke steps inside, leading him to the soft yellow glow of the living room on the left. He passes the darkened kitchen, glancing to the side just enough to catch a big cardboard box on the kitchen table. Luke purses his lips and keeps walking. 

Calum is lounging in one corner of the large sectional sofa, leaning on his folded knee as he nods along to something Ashton is saying. Ashton, who is curled up in a ball in the middle corner, hugging an overstuffed gray pillow to his chest. They both turn when Luke walks in, Calum offering a nod and Ashton smiles weakly. It may be the low lighting, but his face looks a little puffy. 

“Hey,” Luke says awkwardly, tiptoeing into the space. He sits in the blue armchair by the window, the one he knows Spencer loved. Maybe he’s going to take it with him, wherever he’s going. Luke won’t ask that question now. 

“You didn’t have to come out so late,” Ashton says, shaking his head in what looks like disappointment. Maybe guilt. 

“Of course I did,” Luke replies, swallowing down the yawn that threatens to split his face. Leave it to his body to rebel against him now of all times. 

None of them get another word in before the front door slams, rattling a frame on the wall. Michael tears down the hallway like a tornado, bringing a gust of wind with him that fills the room. “Alright what the fuck?” Michael shouts, dropping himself down on the open end of the couch. “What the fuck?” he says again, leaning forward on his knees, staring at Ashton across the room. 

Ashton just shrugs. “He left me.” 

The lack of emotion in his voice is concerning, completely free of the bubbling laughter and attitude filled charm that normally coats his words. It’s just empty, sort of bitter but mostly void of feeling, like he’s detached himself from the situation completely. 

“But why?” Luke finds himself saying, frowning at Ashton before flicking his eyes to Calum, who looks like he’s about to kill someone. Hopefully that someone is Spencer. 

“Because he’s a fucking idiot,” Calum huffs, rolling his eyes. 

“He’s not,” Ashton says, lolling his head back onto the edge of the couch. “He’s not an idiot.” 

“I think he is,” Michael says, looking from Ashton to Calum and back. “No matter why he broke up with you, he’s a fucking moron.” 

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” 

The words hang heavy in the room, stealing the air in order to create more space for their weight. They take away the light, leaving only a veil of darkness over each of them as they struggle to find the words that should follow Ashton’s declaration. 

They don’t need to say a thing, because Ashton keeps speaking. “He said he hasn’t been happy in a while and he was feeling stuck. He doesn’t know who he is right now and through talking with his therapist, he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t love me anymore.” He says it with such conviction, layered with certainty like he’s stating a commonly known fact. 

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Michael says, sneering with his words. “He’s a fucking asshole if he doesn’t love you.” 

Ashton shrugs again, speaking with a monotone voice, “He doesn’t love me, what am I supposed to do about that?” 

“You’ve been together for so long though, how does he just stop loving you?” Michael continues.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Ashton snaps, the first sign of any true emotion in his speech. Michael and Calum both look down at their laps. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, trying to contort his face in a way that shows just how sorry he really is. There isn’t a way that would ever express the sorrow in his heart, but he’ll try to get it across somehow. 

Calum shifts on the couch. “I can try to talk some sense into him.” 

“Don’t,” Ashton says, shaking his head vehemently. “I don’t want this to ruin your friendship with him,” he says, glancing between Calum and Michael while Luke folds himself into the chair. 

“Ash,” Michael starts to say, but Ashton cuts him off. 

“No, I love him still, even if he doesn’t love me, and I don’t want him to be hurt by this. It’s not like he tried to do this on purpose. You two,” he says, waving his hand between Michael and Calum, “are not going to treat him any differently, okay? He’s a good person, he doesn’t deserve to lose friends because he’s doing something to make himself happy.” 

It’s an extremely rational train of thought, Luke thinks, nodding along with Ashton’s words. It fucking sucks that Spencer is uprooting their entire life and flipping everything upside down, but it’s not like he’s doing it to purposely hurt Ashton. Spencer was never malicious, never one to wish harm to others, and there’s no way that he would ever intentionally try to make things hard for Ashton. 

“Fine,” Calum grumbles, pouting but nodding. “I do want to see where his head is at though.” 

“If you talk to him, please don’t tell me,” Ashton says softly, before the void consumes his eyes again and he loses his emotions. 

Hours later when the sun is starting to peek over the horizon and they’re all fighting back yawns, Calum and Michael head out with the promise that they’ll be back tomorrow or whenever Ashton wants them to. Ashton rolls his eyes but nods nonetheless, thanking them for coming all the way out in the middle of the night. Michael teases about blaming him if he gets in trouble for calling out of work, but it brings a small smile to Ashton’s face, so it might be a win. 

Luke hangs back a little bit, lingering on the porch while Calum backs out of the driveway in the dim morning light. Ashton leans in the doorway, arms drawn tightly around himself, holding the pieces of his tattered cardigan together, each part threatening to fall apart as Spencer unravels a thread. Ashton arches an inquisitive eyebrow at Luke as he scuffs his converse on the second step. 

“You can talk to me, you know that right?” Luke says, tilting his head to the side. 

“Yeah?” Ashton replies skeptically, waiting for the rest of the statement. 

“I just mean that Mike and Cal both are friends with Spencer too; I don’t have that. If you want to talk about anything without worrying that you’re somehow tarnishing their view of him, you can come to me. I promise I’m a decent listener and I can try my best at advice, whatever you need. I’m here for you.” The vulnerability in his words is hard to force out, a little bit stuttered with the uncomfortable delivery, but still dripping with sincerity. 

It brings out the first real smile that Luke has seen all night. 

“Thank you, Luke, I really appreciate that. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need to take you up on that offer.” Ashton punctuates his words with a yawn, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. “Drive safe, love you.” 

“Love you,” Luke echos, letting his car door shut quietly so as to not disrupt the calm morning flow. 

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Luke doesn’t hear from Ashton for three days. 

That isn’t all that abnormal; they go days without speaking to one another sometimes, simply because they have nothing worth talking about. Luke talks to Michael the most, and Calum talks to Ashton, so as long as Ashton is talking to someone, that’s all that really matters. 

Except he’s not. 

“Every time I’ve called him, he doesn’t pick up and when I text him, all I get is short answers,” Calum says, sipping at his coffee. He scrunches up his face as the liquid hits his tongue, too hot to be safely sipped. “I wanted to go see him, but you know how this time of year is, I’m working too many hours to have time to sleep, let alone check on him.” 

“He’s called out of work the past few days too,” Michael replies, spinning the tea bag in his mug. “I haven’t tried to reach out, but I did see Spencer in the office.” 

Luke makes a small noise to encourage Michael to continue speaking as he drops a piece of a chocolate croissant into his mouth, wiping his fingers on the napkin. As much as he doesn’t really want to hear about what he has to say, part of Luke is curious just where his head is at right now. If he’s as messed up as Ashton is. 

“He asked if I hated him, which I said no to, but I did say I wasn’t exactly happy with him either.” Michael punctuates his sentence with a shrug. “I have plans to see him tomorrow for lunch and talk about whatever.” 

“I wanna come,” Calum says, a slightly ferocious look in his eyes, like he’s ready to tear him limb from limb if he says anything bad about Ashton. It wouldn’t be surprising if that’s exactly what he was thinking. 

It’s a little unsettling that no one has been back to check on Ashton since that night, a thought which drives Luke to pick up his phone and pull open his texts with Ashton. The last message sent was a sweet picture of Sam the golden retriever that Luke was training at the dog park on Monday. 

Luke: you busy tonight? 

Ashton’s reply comes suspiciously fast for someone so adamant about disconnecting from technology. 

Ashton: dont think so, whats up?

Luke: wanna watch a movie? 

Ashton: i dont need a babysitter

“Geez,” Luke breathes out loud, drawing Michael and Calum’s attention. 

“What?” Michael asks, leaning over Luke’s shoulder to get a view of his phone. He barks out a laugh. “Sounds like someone is pissy.” 

Calum yanks Luke’s phone from his hand and scans through the conversation with pursed lips before he hands Luke his device. “It’s probably misdirected anger at me for not going to see him in a few days.” 

“Bullshit,” Michael calls. “Don’t make this about you, he’s the one who got dumped.” 

The word sounds so harsh, hanging over them in the darkest of storm clouds. While there’s only one cloud above them right now, there’s likely a whole storm above Ashton’s house, peltering his home with a seemingly never ending downpour. 

Luke better bring an umbrella when he goes over there. 

Luke: i’m not babysitting you, i just wanted to hang out, but we don’t have to. 

As much as he knows Ashton is hurting, that isn’t an excuse for him to act like an asshole. Luke has an immense amount of patience, something that makes him a wonderful dog trainer, but he’s not one to just take shit when it’s thrown at him. He’ll give just as much attitude back. 

Ashton: im sorry

Ashton: id love to watch a movie. come over whenever

When Luke arrives at Ashton’s door hours later, mail is practically pouring out of the mailbox. The thin envelopes peek out of the edges, flapping in the early evening wind. Luke tugs the door open, unleashing a stream of mail that falls out onto the pavement. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, picking up as many letters as he can carry, stuffing the rest in the crook of his arm. Once he successfully grabs every paper, he shuffles up to the door and kicks at the wood, hoping Ashton will hear his messed up knocking. 

The door creaks open after a moment, Ashton’s head just popping out of the gap with cautious eyes. He snorts when he sees Luke’s predicament, pushing open the door to allow him into the house. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, clearing his throat when the words come out raspy. 

“Your mail was practically on the street,” Luke replies, arching an eyebrow as he drops the stack on the kitchen table. “I didn’t know people actually got this much mail.” 

Ashton smiles slightly. “Two people getting individual mail, bills, and junk mail? It adds up quickly.” Just as fast as the smile appeared, it’s gone, dripping off his face, dotting the floor below him as a frown takes over again. 

The melancholy look is a stranger, out of place on the planes of Ashton’s cheeks. It’s too smooth, too lifeless compared to the smile lines that normally are etched deep into the creases by his eyes. 

Ashton meets Luke’s gaze for a moment, pain and longing swirling just below a thin veil of fake composure. Just one tear in the mesh would unleash it all, likely flooding them both. 

Luke will break it open, he’s sure of it. Maybe not today, but sometime. He can’t just allow all of those feelings to build up inside Ashton’s head. God knows what would happen then. 

Taking initiative into his own hands, Luke starts sorting through some of the pieces of mail, dividing them into piles of who they belong to. He works quietly for a moment, placing mail down in their respective groups until Ashton gently grabs his wrist. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, letting go to pick at the skin around his thumb. 

“I’ll be done in just a second,” Luke says, picking up the last pieces to work through. Ashton doesn’t protest this time, silently watching Luke work until the last of the mail is separated. He hands Ashton his own pile and brings the other back down the hall where he deposits his keys and kicks off his shoes by the entryway table. 

Ashton tilts his head to the side from the kitchen doorway, holding his stack of mail in his hands as if it’ll break with too much force. 

“I’ll bring this to Mike or Cal, they can get rid of it for you.” 

A fleeting look of understanding passes over Ashton’s face before it’s replaced with something pained. “Fuck,” he says, dropping the mail back on the counter to wipe a hand down his face. He clears his throat. “Uh, thank you. I appreciate that.” His voice is thick, so he coughs again. 

“Movie?” Luke says, shifting on the hardwood, sliding a socked foot around in a small circle, avoiding looking at Ashton for more than a second. He loves to be the center of attention on a good day, but shrinks into the shadows on bad ones. The least Luke can do is respect his need not to be seen. 

As they walk down the hall to the living room, Luke takes stock of Ashton while he’s not looking. His caramel waves are heavy with grease, probably from a lack of showering. He’s wrapped up in sweatpants and an overly baggy sweatshirt, one that Luke is pretty sure doesn’t belong to him. His feet are bare. 

One can only wonder how long Ashton has been in those same clothes. 

Ashton puts on some movie that Luke has no interest in and that’s fine, until it’s been about fifteen minutes and Ashton isn’t even looking at the TV, instead opting to stare at the bookshelf across the room. It’s littered with mementos, pieces of past memories that are too precious to get rid of. There’s a family portrait of Ashton with his two younger siblings, a snowglobe from a trip to Colorado, an incense burner in the shape of a lemon. 

There’s also framed pictures of Ashton and Spencer, a candle from a workshop they did in the city, a plant in a pot with their initials on it. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what shelves Ashton is looking at. 

Luke clears his throat. “How are you?” 

Ashton keeps staring at the shelves for a minute before looking at Luke with a very intentional blank look on his face. His hazel eyes flutter around Luke’s head before he snorts out a weak laugh. “Oh I’m great,” he says, voice dripping in sarcasm. Even though they could be —and probably should be— his words aren’t angry, but exhausted.

“Okay that was a bad question,” Luke says through a halfhearted laugh. “How are you holding up, I guess.” 

“I don’t know,” Ashton says with a shrug. “I keep expecting him to walk back through the door as if nothing happened.” 

The hollowness of Ashton’s voice runs a chill down Luke’s spine. “Have you gotten out of the house at all?” 

Ashton shakes his head. “Not since I got home from work on Wednesday.” He curls his feet up under his thigh, turning to face Luke directly. 

“Do you want to? Maybe go for a drive? We could go to my place instead, would that help since you wouldn’t be here?” 

There’s a heavy pause as Ashton gnaws at his lip, playing with each one of his fingers and trying to crack the knuckles. “Are you going to be mad if I say I don’t want to leave?” Ashton’s voice is small, guarded like he’s trying to hold his actual thoughts inside. If only he would let them out, it would surely make him feel so much better. 

“Of course not,” Luke breathes, pulling his leg up so he can wrap an arm around his knee as he rests his head on the top of it. “I want you to do what’s best for you. I just want to help.” 

Ashton scoffs, but throws a half smile at Luke across the couch. “You? You want to help? Luke ‘everyone take care of me’ Hemmings?” 

“Hey!” Luke whines, but grins all the same. “I do not just want everyone to take care of me.” 

“Mhm, sure,” Ashton teases, picking at a piece of lint on his leg. 

“Really,” Luke says, lacing his hands together in front of him. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in on you yet, but I really do care. I can’t imagine what you’re going through but I really want to be here to help you, if there’s any way I can. I know this shit must suck, and Cal did say you haven’t talked to him in a few days, so I just don’t want you to be, I don’t know, alone?” 

Luke studies Ashton’s face, taking in the heavy bags under his eyes and his chapped lips. His skin is dull, sunken in and lifeless without Ashton’s larger than life personality illuminating his soul. Being a shadow of one’s self never really made sense before this moment, seeing someone so broken down but somehow upholding the facade that he’s doing okay, or at the very least holding his edges together. 

“I am alone though,” Ashton says, smiling sadly down at his lap. “I’m alone because my boyfriend left me. Because he doesn’t love me anymore. Six years of my life down the drain.” 

“It’s his loss,” Luke counters, but Ashton shakes his head adamantly. 

“I had to have done something to make him not love me anymore.” 

“Ashton,” Luke starts, but he’s cut off before he can say anything else. 

“I don’t need you to try to convince me otherwise. I’m okay right now, I promise, I’m not going to go off the deep end or some shit. I’m just… I just don’t know what I am.” 

It makes sense, even if it shouldn’t, because how is he expected to know what he is and who he is after every sense of normal in his life was ripped away unexpectedly? He’s been pushed out of a plane with no idea how to launch his parachute, hurtling towards the ground at such a fast velocity that he can’t even figure out which way is up. For someone as secure as Ashton, it has to be incredibly jarring. 

“That’s okay,” Luke says, pressing his lips into a thin line. “You don’t have to know anything right now. But when you’re not okay, I hope you don’t just bottle it up, yeah? I really want you to promise me that you’ll talk to someone to figure it out, whether it’s me or Cal or Mike or a therapist. Or maybe your mom, I’m sure she has some kind of advice.” 

Ashton’s lips quirk up for a moment at the mention of his mother before his face falls again. “I haven’t even told her yet.” 

“Oh,” Luke breathes, blinking in surprise. It’s a shock that his mom wasn’t the first person that he called when they broke up, given how connected Ashton is with his family. It’s hard when they’re across the country and he only gets to see them a few times a year, but that’s only made Ashton try even harder to stay in contact with them all. “Why haven’t you told her?” 

“She loved him, probably just as much as she loves me,” Ashton jokes, but it falls flat. “I don’t want to hurt her.” 

“She’s your mom, she’s not going to be hurt, she’s going to be worried about you.” 

“And I know that, but the idea of telling her just…” Ashton trails off, inhaling deeply through his nose as he looks up at the ceiling. “It makes it real. It’s not real yet.” 

Luke’s hands twitch to reach out for Ashton, begging to hold him close in an attempt to take away some of his pain. Luke would pull all of it from his body if he could, sucking out the venom and disposing of it before it can take over Ashton’s whole body. 

“I understand,” Luke says, opting to reach across the couch to lay a hand on Ashton’s calf. “I’m sorry. If you want moral support when you tell her, let me know, I’d be happy to sit with you. On your terms, of course. Tell her when you’re ready.” 

Ashton locks eyes with him for a moment, nameless emotions swimming in the poorly concealed tears on his waterline. There’s a tiny crack in his armor, just a splinter that Luke might be able to weasel through if he keeps trying. More than anything, he just wants to make sure that Ashton doesn’t lock himself up and throw away the key, making it impossible for anyone to get through the ironclad door in his brain. 

He’s stubborn, annoyingly so, and determined once he gets something in his mind. The last thing any of them need is for Ashton to push them away and pretend that he can handle this on his own. No one deserves to go through hell like this without people in their corner.

Luke may not be the most equipped to handle this struggle, but he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure that Ashton doesn’t lose himself in the ocean he’s been dropped into. 

“Thank you,” Ashton says, blinking wildly for a moment before he gains control over his face again. “Now back to the movie.” 

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Luke is a little impulsive. 

He’d like to think that’s part of his charm. He keeps life interesting by just doing things without thinking them through all the way. Consequences will come later, but if it seems like a good idea in the moment, then it’s being done.

It’s that spontaneous energy that has him knocking on Ashton’s door with only an “ are you home? ” text to confirm that he wasn’t showing up somewhere unannounced. Impulsive is one thing, rude is another; he’d never show up somewhere without asking first. 

Ashton answers the door with a cautious smile under tired eyes that look like he hasn’t slept well in days. He probably hasn’t, Luke thinks, as he steps through the open door. 

“What’s up?” Ashton asks as Luke toes off his converse by the front door. 

“I have something for you,” Luke says, making his way to the kitchen as Ashton follows along, feet tapping a mellow melody as they walk. 

“Okay…” Ashton says skeptically, sitting at the kitchen table. The box that had been resting there a few days ago is long gone now, as is half of the mug collection that used to hang next to the coffee maker on the wall. The space looks empty, unfinished without the missing pieces, though it will never be complete in the same way again. 

Luke places the bag down on the table carefully, trying not to jostle it too much with his clumsy limbs. He reaches inside with both hands, slowly pulling out a tiny plastic tub filled with water. Before he even has it placed down on the table, Ashton barks out a startled laugh. 

“A fish?” 

Inside the container is a yellow betta fish, one with slightly droopy fins but a warm golden shine to it, swimming around in circles in confusion. Its tail swishes with each lap it does, swimming faster when Ashton leans over to look at it up close. 

“Let me explain,” Luke says, pulling out some of the other basic supplies he bought. “I was getting a few more training treats before I have a client tomorrow and I struck up a conversation with the worker, and next thing I know, they’re showing me the fish and I’m taking this little one to the counter.” 

“I’m still confused why you bought me a fish,” Ashton says, staring down at the fish with narrowed eyes. 

“Okay, so you don’t like animals, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you being alone here, so a fish seemed like the next best option for a pet. It could have been a hamster, but the creaky wheel probably would have driven you insane, and lizards freak me out so I wasn’t about to buy you one of those, and this one reminded me of you, so I had to get it.” 

“Reminded you of me?” Ashton asks, quickly looking up at Luke before averting his eyes. 

“Well, yeah,” Luke says, feeling his cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment. “It’s yellow, like sunshine, and you’re kinda like sunshine. You’re warm and just… I don’t know, you’re yellow to me.” 

Ashton pauses, lightly tapping a finger against the plastic absently with a thoughtful look on his face. It’s slightly unsettling, coupled with the silence in the house as they just stand there. Luke can’t do silence. 

“I can keep it if you don’t want it, I just thought it might be something nice for you to take care of,” he says, wringing his hands together awkwardly. 

It takes a minute, but Ashton looks up at Luke with that same glassy look he had yesterday after Luke sorted the mail. His lips are parted just a little bit, chapped under his scruffy beard. He smiles. 

“Thank you,” Ashton says quietly, resting his palm on top of the fish’s tub. “What’s its name? Is it a girl or a boy?” 

“Uh,” Luke says, frowning at the lid. “I don’t know actually. They didn’t tell me what it is.” 

“We’ll use gender neutral terms then, I’m cool with a non-binary fish.” 

Luke squeaks out a laugh, one that shakes his shoulders and makes Ashton’s smile shine a tiny bit brighter, even with how dim it still is. “Words that shouldn’t come out of anyone’s mouth.” 

Ashton just shrugs, picking up the tub to get a closer look at the fish. “We’ll call them Daffodil.” 

Pursing his lips in amusement, Luke shakes his head and unloads a few items out of the bag. “Now this is just a temporary setup because I was doing research about bettas in the car before I drove over here, and the stuff at the petstore is all wrong; they’re supposed to have more space and things, but some website said Amazon sells what Daffodil needs. I’ll have it sent here for you.” 

“If you’re spending all this money on Daffodil, I hope you understand that you’re coparenting with me,” Ashton says completely seriously. 

“How do you co-parent a fish?” 

“Take turns cleaning it and whatever. I can’t have full responsibility for this fish, that’s not fair. You rescued Daffodil, you deserve to share in the success when they start living a better life than the one they were living at the petstore.” 

“Sounds like you’re just trying to pawn off your responsibilities on me,” Luke jokes. 

“You’re the one that gave me the responsibilities,” Ashton counters.

“Fair,” Luke says, pulling the little plastic home out of the box. It doesn’t seem nearly large enough for such beautiful fish, confined to one small space for all of its life. It deserves a larger, more robust home with plenty of love and personal touches where it can feel safe. 

Looking up at Ashton, Luke can’t help but feel like Ashton is the same as Daffodil, stuck in a tiny tub until they’re finally able to escape to a larger, better place. Ashton’s tiny space might just be his brain, all wrapped up in his own head and stuck swimming circles around and around, ruminating over the same negative thoughts. 

It’ll take time for him to find serenity and comfort again, but dammit, Luke is going to help him find it. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Luke: do you have dinner plans tonight? I can bring pizza over 

Ashton: i havent gone grocery shopping in a week, please 

Luke: peppers and onions? 

Ashton: your the best <3

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“I could eat pizza every day of my life,” Luke says, wiping his fingertips on a napkin as he takes the last bite of his crust. 

Ashton snorts out a halfhearted laugh, chewing on his bite before he can speak. “You’d be so sick if you had pizza every day.” 

Luke shrugs. “But I’d be happy.” 

Rain taps against the window as they eat, otherwise the living room is quiet. Ashton hasn’t had much to say since Luke arrived with dinner, mostly moping around with his shoulders slouched forward. It’s one of those days, one where the weight of being left behind is heavy in the room, thick like the muggy summer air outside. 

Some music would be nice, or maybe some conversation, but both of those seem a little far out of reach as Ashton’s mind visibly drifts off to other worlds every few minutes. He’s unfocused, hazy as he eats with his bare feet tucked up underneath him in the corner of the couch. 

Daffodil swims around in their little tank on the bookshelf, right next to a picture of Ashton and Spencer. 

“The new tank should be here in a few days,” Luke says out of nowhere, only realizing how broken his train of thought seems when Ashton tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Daffodil. Their new tank and supplies should be delivered soon.” 

“Oh,” Ashton hums, nodding as he looks over at the tiny bowl on the shelf. The moment Ashton’s eyes fall on the picture frame, his face falls a little and his eyes drift to his lap, paper plate suddenly far more interesting than the wall ahead. 

It’s not like Luke is expecting him to get over this breakup so easily, no one is. They all know he’s going to mope and wallow for a while, mourning the loss of the greatest love of his life thus far. It’s only been just over a week, and it’s honestly a miracle that he even started going to work again after his weekend away. 

With three instances of them hanging out in the past week alone, this has already been more than Ashton and Luke have hung out in a single month. Their friendship was almost always connected by Calum and Michael, acting as buffers between the two of them, though it wasn’t necessary. Luke only met Calum when he brought his dog Duke in for training on how to stop barking at strangers, which grew into a friendship that then involved Michael bringing his dog Moose to one of Luke and Calum’s training sessions. 

A series of events, all started by one booked appointment, ended up bringing the group of friends together, with Michael, Calum, and Ashton all being friends from work and welcoming Luke into their group. Ashton and Luke’s relationship was always extended, more of a friend of a friend situation than actual friends themselves, given that Ashton spent most of his time with Spencer, so they just didn’t see him as often. 

They’ve still always been close, just not Calum and Ashton close, or Michael and Luke close. Their newfound solo time together has Luke a little off balance sometimes, waiting for Michael’s giddy laughter or Calum’s quick wit that just never comes. It’s just them, and that’s it. 

Luke is drawn out of his own daydream land by the sound of thunder in the distance, rattling low in the silence. He glances at Ashton, only to find him fixated on the photograph again, staring at it with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Can I ask you something?” Luke says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out cracked. 

Ashton furrows his eyebrows but nods, finally taking his eyes off the picture to look at Luke. 

“Why haven’t you taken his pictures down yet?” 

Ashton blinks in surprise, stumbling over his words. “Oh, uh, I guess I just. I don’t know, I thought that maybe. Fuck,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hasn’t seemed real yet. Haven’t wanted to get rid of the memories.” 

“Do you think that’s doing you more harm than good?” 

There’s a moment of contemplation where Luke can almost see the words spinning around Ashton’s head, looking for an answer to the question in the nooks and crannies of his brain. It still comes up empty. 

“I just don’t have the heart to do it myself,” Ashton says in a small voice, picking at the skin around his thumbnail. 

“I could help?” Luke asks, hoping his sincerity and care bleeds through his batting eyelashes. 

Ashton doesn’t reply, instead opting for a small nod of his head with a slightly pained look on his face. It can’t be easy, removing the physical memories of his love from the space that they shared together, but they can’t stay up on the walls and shelves forever, holding Ashton in place rather than letting him move on. 

“Whole house or just the downstairs today?” Luke asks, pulling himself off the couch.

“Might as well do the whole thing,” Ashton says, looking up at Luke with sad eyes. 

Luke pulls up the most upbeat playlist he can find on Spotify, tapping on the shuffle button to fill up the empty space and pockets his phone. “Come on,” Luke says, offering Ashton his hand. “I’m not doing this alone.” 

Ashton reluctantly agrees, standing up on uneasy footing with a sigh. 

“Game plan, we spend 60 seconds looking for as many pictures as we can and then meet back here?” 

“No offense, but I don’t think I can make a game out of this,” Ashton says with a grimace. “It feels wrong.” 

“That’s okay,” Luke says, shrugging it off with a small smile. “We can do it however you want to.” 

“Just come with me,” Ashton replies, leading Luke down the hallway and up the stairs. 

They collect all the frames from upstairs, each one piling up in Luke’s arms as they walk around. It’s slightly astonishing just how many relics of the past take up the walls, littered everywhere around the house like a scavenger hunt of memories. Luke deposits the stack of frames on the kitchen table before they go on the second hunt, mostly only in the living room. 

The first picture on the wall is a shot of Ashton and Spencer at work, standing by the sign for the University with stupidly happy smiles on their faces, beaming at the camera. Luke just has to ask. 

“Have you seen him at work at all?” 

Ashton shakes his head, carefully pulling the frame off the wall. “No, student activities doesn’t really interact with student accounts, you know?” 

“I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it,” Luke says with a shrug. 

“He stays stuffed up in his office most of the day with the other financial aid people, typing at their computers, while I get to plan events and do things on campus in the sunshine. My office also is literally on the other side of campus from his.” 

“No wonder Michael is so pale,” Luke snickers, hoping to add some light to the conversation. 

“The only sunshine he gets is walking from his car to the building and sometimes if he decides to come out and join Cal and I for lunch. That really only happens if we drag him from the building kicking and screaming.” 

“I’m sure campus police is totally okay with you dragging him out like that.” 

Ashton snorts, handing Luke two smaller frames from the bookcase on the left of the TV before moving to the right. “Campus police watches us do it and laughs. They know us well enough by now to know that we’re not hurting him or anyone else, no matter how much he yells that he’s being kidnapped.” 

“Your job sounds fake,” Luke teases. 

“Rich coming from you, you literally get paid to play with dogs all day,” Ashton jabs, tongue in cheek. 

“That’s not all I do!” Luke laughs, holding his arms out for Ashton to add to the pile. “I’m turning these dogs from unruly monsters into perfect law abiding citizens of the dog park.” 

“Bullshit,” Ashton laughs with a very small smile. “I’ve seen you ‘training’ Duke before.” He scrunches his fingers in air quotes around the word training.

“That’s Duke! He doesn’t count! Calum has him well trained enough that I don’t actually have to do anything, and it’s not like I’m working when I’m playing with Duke. Fuck off,” Luke says through a giggle, shaking his head but trying to tamp down the joy bubbling in his chest at being able to get Ashton out of his shell a little. 

These smiles and tiny laughs are the first that Luke has seen from him in so long, each one pumping another breath of air into his lungs. It can’t be easy, removing the memories, but somehow the act of taking down the pictures coupled with talking about the loss through jokes is canceling out the negativity, taking the humidity out of the air as the rain outside begins to stop falling. 

With the final frames in hand, Luke and Ashton make their way back to the kitchen, laying them down with the rest in a menacingly large pile. As Luke thinks about his own apartment, he can only picture about a handful of photos on the walls, mostly with family rather than anything else. The differences of a long term relationship. 

Ashton stares down at the table, stroking his finger along the edge of one of the frames. He lays his palm against the glass, covering the image below with his skin before he flips it over, hiding the smiling faces against the table. He looks at Luke with such evident pain painted across his face before he says, “What am I supposed to do with these now?” 

Luke frowns, reaching forward to flip another one of the frames too. “We can put them in a box and put them in the guest room closet or I can take them with me, whatever will help you heal easiest.” 

“Shit,” Ashton says, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t think this would be so hard.” 

“Of course it is, you’re removing the memories from your view, of course it’s hard. But I’m glad you’re doing it, and I’m glad you let me help.” 

“Thank you,” Ashton replies, reaching forward to lay a hand on Luke’s shoulder for a minute. He runs his thumb along the cotton, squeezes, and releases, offering Luke another small, tense smile. 

And a bit later, before they return to their normal places on the couch, two feet apart but sharing the same warmth, Ashton stands in front of the bookshelf and carefully moves Daffodil’s bowl to the right, centering it amongst the knick knacks and goodies there. Daffodil looks more at home, more intentional, more purposeful as they swim around in circles. 

When Luke catches Ashton turning his head to stare over at the shelf rather than the movie on TV, he doesn’t have to worry about Ashton obsessing over old pictures on the shelf, knowing that it’s Daffodil he’s looking at, waving their fins at him as they swim around. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton: if your not busy later, do you want to come over?  

Luke: I’ll be there at six

Ashton: thank you 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It’s become a normal thing, Luke spending evenings on Ashton’s couch. Sometimes he brings dinner over, sometimes Ashton is already cooking by the time he gets there, sometimes they’re both too lazy —or sad, in Ashton’s case— to make or order anything, so they wind up eating popcorn instead of a real meal. 

In some ways, Luke can’t even remember what he used to do with his nights before he started spending them here. When he’s at his own apartment, alone after a day of training whichever dogs are on his calendar, it feels too quiet, abnormally so. He’s lived alone for years at this point, so it’s not like he should be longing for the noise that someone else used to make. The silence is just unsettling. 

So more often than not, he makes his way to Ashton’s house as soon as he’s confirmed that Ashton is home from work and actually is okay with him coming over (though really, would Ashton ever say no to him? Probably not). They’ve fallen into this routine over the past few weeks, sometimes varying it by adding in Calum or Michael, sometimes choosing to spend the nights alone, but more often than not, sitting on opposite ends of the sectional. 

They have casual conversations most nights, chatting about work and whatever is going on in the news. They’ve started watching reruns of Criminal Minds from start to finish, even though they’ve both seen the show more than once. It’s just normal, easy, unpressured moments where they can relax in their sweatpants while in the comfort of someone else without the constant need to entertain or speak.

They can just sit in comfortable silence while they watch.  

Luke has come to learn that Ashton doesn’t like being alone in the house, which is understandable after having spent years living so closely intertwined with someone else. He confided in Luke a few nights ago that he really appreciates how much time Luke has been spending with him, because it helps him to feel less lonely. It was an off the cuff comment, one that he quickly swept under the rug as he moved onto something that Calum told him at work that day, effectively eliminating Luke’s chance to ask more questions. 

It was just another glimmer of the Ashton hiding beneath layers of hardened wax, slowly melting away to reveal his true self with every passing day. Luke knows Ashton, knows the version of him that is given to friends and acquaintances, but each drop that melts off his body brings forth the Ashton that’s given to those he trusts the most in life. 

Luke is becoming one of those people, slowly. 

They’re midway through an episode of Criminal Minds on a Wednesday night when Ashton sighs loud enough to be heard over the gunshots on the television. Luke looks over, arching an eyebrow as if to say “ do you want to talk about something?” 

Ashton takes the bait. “I’m going to say something a little depressing, but like, you don’t need to be worried, okay?” 

Scrunching up his nose, Luke cautiously nods. 

“I never used to be able to watch this show when I was alone. It used to freak me out to think about something happening to me and no one knew because I lived alone. But as fucked up as it is, this is my comfort show. And when I catch myself thinking about what would happen if some psycho killer came to my window and murdered me, it doesn’t even scare me, because I’m just like, oh well?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Luke breathes out an uncomfortable laugh. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be worried?” 

“Unless you know of a psycho serial killer who’s going to come by and kill me any time soon, I don’t think so. I don’t want to die or anything like that, but it’s less scary now than it was before, since I don’t really have anything super exciting worth living for.” 

“This really isn’t helping the I-shouldn’t-worry thing,” Luke says, frowning at Ashton across the couch. The thing is, he looks too peaceful. He looks weighed down and depressed, sure, but he also doesn’t look like the wreck of a human that he could —and maybe should— be after being left like this. 

When Luke’s last ex broke up with him, he didn’t leave his bed for a week. He barely ate, barely slept, barely existed, until he mustered up the strength to do anything, and that was only because his mom threatened to pull him out of bed if he didn’t get up himself. That was pre Ashton, Calum, and Michael; if that were to happen now, hopefully someone would try to help him before it got that bad. 

He hopes he’s helping Ashton. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s worth worrying about. In a less sad way, I think it’s more like, I survived something that I never expected to happen, so I would survive a murderer too?” 

“That kinda contradicts what you just said about not being afraid of potentially dying.” 

Ashton shrugs. “I think I’m just contradicting myself all the time lately. I’m okay but I’m not. I’m a wreck but I’m fine. I’m not afraid of a mass murderer coming in my window because I have nothing to live for but I also think I would survive it because somehow I’ve survived my heart shattering into a million pieces.” 

The nonchalant way that he throws his words around is a bit unsettling. Ashton has always been someone to speak with intention, thinking about his words and saying exactly what he means rather than getting wrapped up in a web of intersecting thoughts. Whether it’s the lack of proper sleep or being holed up in the house all by himself for days, it’s just not right. 

“Do you think it’s possible to be put back together after being torn apart?” Ashton asks before Luke has a chance to come up with a response to his last statement. 

Well, does he? Is there a way to pick up all the pieces and glue them back in the same spots as they were before? Is there any chance of becoming whole again after throwing oneself around in the air like confetti? 

“I don’t think it’s about being put back together, I think it’s about finding the new pieces that belong with you,” Luke says carefully. 

Ashton cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, I’ll be blunt about it, you’ve lost pieces of yourself since he left, didn’t you?” 

Ashton nods. 

“Exactly. So he took those pieces with him when he left, and right now you’re trying to function without the parts that you’ve become so accustomed to having. You can operate without the pieces, sure, but everything is harder and you don’t feel right. But eventually you’ll either find new bits yourself, or someone else will offer some spares to make things easy for you again. You’ll be completely different than you were before, but it’s not a bad thing.” 

There’s a heavy moment where nothing is said, just the agents on TV discussing how to get the victim away from the unsub safely. Ashton picks at the skin around his finger, head bowed down towards his lap as he works. His caramel waves fall across his head, obstructing his face from Luke’s view until he looks up, glassy eyed and wobbly lipped. 

“How long will it take to even start to feel like existing isn’t the hardest thing in the world?” 

Luke has to swallow thickly around nothing to compose himself, forever the empath that takes on other people’s emotions too easily. This isn’t the time for him to get emotional, but to offer support to someone else. 

“I don’t know. I’d like to be able to tell you, but that’s all you. But take the time you need, you do whatever you need to do.” 

Ashton breathes out shakily, swiping at the tears that have started to make pools in the bags under his eyes. It only makes them fall faster, eager to replace the ones stolen away by his fingertips. Luke starts to reach out to touch Ashton the way he would if Michael was the one upset, but stops himself before he can lean forward too much. Still, Ashton catches the movement and looks at him with sad, questioning eyes. 

“I’m really not good at this talking stuff, I just want to give you a hug, but I know you don’t like that kind of thing,” Luke says with a tiny smile. 

Ashton blinks in surprise, mouth parting open as he sniffles loudly. “I’d actually really like a hug,” he says, rubbing both eyes with the heels of his palms. 

“Then come here,” Luke says, opening his arms widely. 

It’s a bit of an awkward shuffle for Ashton to get across the empty space between them, half crawling and half wiggling until he can flop onto Luke’s torso. The deadweight punches the air out of Luke’s lungs with a tiny “oof”, but before Ashton can possibly think about getting up, Luke wraps both arms around his shoulders to hold him in place. 

Luke is pretty damn sure that he can count every time he’s hugged Ashton on one hand. The tickle of his soft robe against Luke’s bare arms leaves goosebumps behind as Luke starts to trace his right hand up and down Ashton’s back slowly. 

Ashton’s breathing is uneven, slightly hiccupy with every inhale he forces into his lungs. He’s just about sobbing now, wet tears bleeding through Luke’s t-shirt with every passing second now that he’s hidden from view. But he won’t say a word about it, more relieved than anything else that Ashton is actually letting out his emotions in front of him. 

In their two years of being friends, the only time Luke has ever seen Ashton emotional is when his little sister broke her arm and he couldn’t get home to see her. Even then, the pain wasn’t anywhere near the level that it is right now, all consuming and seemingly never ending. If what Luke was feeling when a one year relationship ended is only a fraction of what Ashton must be feeling after a six year relationship ended, it’s going to take a lot longer than a few  weeks for him to get back to standing on his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke says softly, squeezing Ashton tighter when the hiccups turn into just slightly labored breathing. Working on impulse and trying not to overthink it, Luke threads a hand into Ashton’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp just the way Luke himself likes it. If the way that Ashton sags a little heavier into his body is anything to go by, Luke would assume he’s doing something right. 

“It just fucking sucks,” Ashton mumbles into Luke’s shirt, warming the skin below with his breath. 

“It does, I’m so sorry.” 

Once Ashton’s breathing has turned normal again and sniffling is the only real remnant of his crying fit, he pushes himself up off of Luke with an embarrassed grimace on his face. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to just do that,” he says, wiping at his red rimmed eyes aggressively. 

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind.” 

“No, but I shouldn’t just trauma dump out of nowhere, that’s a little fucked up,” Ashton says. 

Luke shakes his head. “Don’t do that, I’m here for you, I promise. If I needed space or wasn’t able to talk to you about this, I wouldn’t be here. Or I would have said something. You don’t need to get self conscious about it.” 

Ashton nods slowly, taking a moment to run his hands over his face to push his hair out of his eyes. He messes it up a little more than it already was from Luke’s hand in it, fluffy and disheveled with a warm yellow halo around it from the light on the other side of the room. Luke finds himself following the patterns in Ashton’s waves until Ashton speaks again. 

“It’s just been a while since I hugged someone I guess, I kinda miss the physical touch.” 

Luke smiles softly. “I love physical touch more than anything else, so please, don’t be afraid to cuddle up with me.” 

Ashton looks apprehensive for a moment, a bit distrusting of the words coming from Luke’s mouth. It’s understandable that he might feel betrayed by the world now, like he can’t trust a thing coming out of anyone’s mouth, but Luke hopes he can be welcoming enough for Ashton to know he’s not going to fuck him over in the end, especially not right now. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. 

Luke barely holds back the slightly disgusted look he wants to make, instead forcing his smile to stay even, open, safe . “I promise. Any time, you don’t need to ask.” 

Accepting his words as the truth far faster than Luke anticipated, Ashton falls forward again, tilted this time to rest his head against Luke’s chest. He maneuvers himself to face towards the TV, curling in slightly to make himself smaller. 

It feels like a turning point, the first time that Ashton has let himself be fully vulnerable in front of Luke. It’s the side of him that was reserved for only the people that Ashton trusts the most, and maybe Luke is slowly becoming one of those select few. He’d be happy to take Ashton’s ex’s place on the roster, fitting in somewhere among Ashton’s mom and Calum as a safe person to bear his soul to. 

And as they quietly watch the end of the episode, Daffodil swims happily in their bowl on the shelf, right where a picture of past memories used to sit. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Alright fuckers, who’s ready to get crushed!” Michael cheers, clapping his hands together as he grins deviously. 

“Michael, it’s fucking Candy Land , get a grip,” Calum sighs. 

“Fine, you’re about to get eaten then,” Michael says, pulling the board out of the box. 

Luke sits on the floor with his back against the couch with Ashton to his right and Michael to his left, watching the scene unfold in front of him. It’s game night, the once a month occasion where they’re all required to get together and play some random game from their childhood that almost always ends up with someone shouting at someone else for cheating. 

Most often it’s Michael shouting at Luke or Calum, but that’s irrelevant. 

Michael and Calum continue bickering over the rules of the game as Ashton sips at his water, watching with an amused smile across his lips. Candy Land was Ashton’s choice, given the circumstances since their last game night, but Michael has declared that he won’t be merciful anyway. 

Having all four of them in the same place has been harder now than it has been before. Ashton always claims he’s too tired (yet somehow never too tired for Luke to come sit on the couch with him), or Calum has a date, or Michael’s girlfriend Crystal is taking him somewhere, or Calum and/or Michael are hanging out with Spencer. 

Ashton doesn’t know about the last excuse, but that’s for the best. 

Once the characters are decided and everyone is prepared, Michael starts off the game, “Because I won last game night.” 

“Just draw a damn card,” Ashton laughs, closer to his full, boisterous laughter, but still missing a certain edge. 

He’s been getting better as the days go on, spending less nights whispering his secrets into the cotton of Luke’s t-shirts and more time smiling. He’s not back to where he was before, but after just under a month, no one really expected him to be good as new. 

Ashton is still picking up pieces every day, trying to find ones that fit in the holes that Spencer left behind. The spots are all jagged, strange lines making it hard to find something to plug up the leaks, but he gets a little closer to patching himself up with every sunrise. 

“Luke,” Ashton says, hand on his thigh to draw Luke out of his mind. 

“Huh?” Luke replies. 

“It’s your turn,” Calum answers, narrowing his eyes at him and Ashton suspiciously as he digs his hand into the chip bowl between him and Michael. 

Luke draws a double red, which has Michael shouting that he’s cheating already. 

“There isn’t even a way to cheat!” Luke cries, shaking his head exasperatedly at Michael. “It’s all dumb fucking luck.” 

“I’m on to you, Hemmings,” Michael says with narrowed green eyes, but Luke just rolls his own. 

“Anyway, wanna hear about the cute thing Luna, the dog I was training today, did?” Luke says, popping an m&m into his mouth. 

“No,” Calum says with a smirk, picking up his card for his turn and moving to the corresponding yellow tile. 

“Fuck you all,” Luke mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. 

To his right, Luke catches Ashton’s eye, earning a small smile from Ashton. “Tell me about it later,” Ashton says, nodding once before taking his turn. 

It’s nothing out of the ordinary for Ashton and Luke to share details about their days over dinner or ice cream, so much so that Ashton has learned most of Luke’s regular dogs’ names, and Luke knows all of the summer interns in Ashton’s office. Details aren’t off limits, giving them something to talk about each night while they watch TV cuddled up on the sofa. 

Part of Luke wonders if Ashton has told Calum about the way that they spend every night together, even if Luke ends up leaving to go home somewhere between eleven and midnight so Ashton can get at least a little sleep before work the next day. Luke sure as hell hasn’t told Michael about the frequency in which they hang out. 

But why? Why are they keeping it a secret? There’s nothing that needs to be kept a secret, nothing going on between the two of them other than hanging out and keeping each other company nearly every single day for a whole month now. There’s a good chance that one of them would be jealous, asking why they don’t get an invite to hang out every night. 

Luke wouldn’t have an answer to that, but he does know that he wouldn’t want anyone else to interrupt their time together. 

It’s just easy, telling Ashton every thought that goes through his brain. He sends him snapchats of every dog that he sees, and in return, Ashton sends him the most random text messages. Sometimes it’s a thought he had while in the car, sometimes an anecdote from work, others a link to a recipe he wants to try out sometime soon. 

No matter what it is, they’re always in constant contact, and somehow they still have more to talk about when they’re back on Ashton’s sofa. Luke doesn’t question it. 

They keep taking their turns, throwing fake insults around as they go, laughing over absolutely nothing as the night goes on. It’s peaceful, almost back to the way things used to be, even with the lack of one member of their game night team. It doesn’t seem like Ashton is bothered by that, but Luke knows that the thought is still lingering in the back of his mind, waiting in the shadows for the others to leave so it can rear its angry head and render Ashton exhausted from the memories. 

“Suck it, Queen Frostine,” Michael says as he passes by her space on the board. Somehow he actually did get into the lead, and yet no one is crying cheater on him. Interesting how that works. 

“What did she ever do to you?” Ashton says, drawing a card that sends him back to the lollipop woods. He does so with a small pout on his face and Luke finds himself smiling and wishing he could give him a hug to remove the frown. 

“She’s obviously using the gingerbread kids to get to King Kandy,” Michael says, an edge of “duh” in his voice. 

“Right,” Calum says, nodding with a judgmental smile on his face as he draws a card that brings him almost to the end of the game. 

“Oh,” Luke says randomly, turning to Ashton. “We can’t forget to try that thing this weekend.” 

“What thing?” Michael asks. 

“It’s nothing,” Ashton says to him before turning to Luke. “Yeah, I have all the stuff, I won’t forget.” 

“What thing?” Calum echoes, glancing between Ashton and Luke again with that confused and suspicious glimmer in his eyes. 

“Something I saw online for Daffodil,” Luke says, drawing his card and moving his player accordingly. "It was one of those stupid five minute craft videos that showed how to make a cave for fish with cement and stuff. We thought it might be cool to put in their tank.

“Right, always have to take care of your love child,” Michael says offhandedly. 

“The fuck?” Luke cries through a laugh. “They’re a fish.” 

“A fish that you’re coparenting,” Calum replies with narrowed eyes. 

Ashton huffs and rolls his eyes. “Now that they have their big tank, we’ve been looking up ways to make the tank more fish friendly. Don’t get all jealous.” 

Calum mumbles something under his breath about jealousy and hanging out, but it’s drowned out by Michael’s shriek of annoyance at having to move his player all the way back to the gumdrop mountains. 

The clipped tone Calum used towards him and Ashton has Luke over playing the game, ready for it to go back to just the two of them and their best friends from the behavioral analysis unit on TV. He’s never wished for a game night to be over faster, an idea that sits heavy in his stomach. It feels something like jealousy too, but that can’t be right. There’s nothing to be jealous over. 

Maybe when Ashton smiles at Calum or laughs at something Michael says, the jealous pit grows a little bit bigger. And maybe each time it happens, Luke shovels another m&m into his mouth, hoping that maybe if he fills the hole with chocolate, he won’t have to decipher what this newfound annoyance is all about.  

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The house is quiet when Luke comes over on Friday night. 

Not the eerie kind of quiet that took hold of the walls on the night when they found out that Ashton was newly single, but the soft, empty silence of a home without a soul. 

Ashton’s car is in the driveway, his keys are by the door. The lights are on in the hall and his shoes are on the floor. He knows Ashton is home, but stepping into the house feels wrong, like Luke is walking into a trap. 

Calling out for him feels wrong too, so Luke steps gingerly down the hallway, feet tapping the hardwood floor as he walks. The kitchen is empty, so he continues down the hall, stopping at the threshold to the living room. 

Ashton is sitting on the couch, curled up into a ball in the corner seat where he normally starts the night. His favorite large, blue knit blanket falls in waves around his lap as he picks at the strands with his left hand, right holding his phone up to his ear. He looks softer in the dim light, filtered through the curtains with the setting sun. For a second, Luke pauses to take in the peace of the moment, until Ashton sniffles. 

It’s funny how one sniffle can draw him out of a content moment so quickly. The knowledge that someone else is upset breaks any serenity and sends it shattering across the ground, seeping into every crack in the concrete foundation. Even as Ashton crying is becoming something of a common occurrence, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. 

Taking one small step into the room, Ashton catches sight of Luke and gestures him over with a tilt of his head. He’s just humming along to whatever the person on the other side of the phone is saying, nodding absently with a far away look on his face. Luke takes his place on the lounge, curled up tight to face Ashton. 

“Yeah, I know mom,” Ashton says with a sigh, swiping at his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Ah. Ashton’s mom.

Luke lets his eyebrows raise in surprise, catching Ashton’s attention. He mimes something along the lines of “ oh you told her?” by swinging his hands back and forth while mouthing the words. Ashton shrugs and nods, ducking his head down as if that’ll somehow hide him from Luke’s gaze. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Luke whispers, leaning forward as he speaks. 

Ashton’s frantic shake of his head says all Luke needs to know, so he raises his hands in surrender as he leans back, letting himself get comfortable again. Ashton frowns, pointing at his own chest to Luke and back, smiling weakly as he mutters a “Yeah” to his mom again. 

Before he even has a chance to decipher what Ashton’s gestures mean, Ashton is sliding across the distance between them and laying down with his head in Luke’s lap, cocooned by the way Luke’s legs are basketed beneath him. 

A tiny surprised laugh cuts through Luke’s throat, but he’s quick to slap his hand over his mouth to quiet himself before Ashton can say anything. Still, the small smile that pulls at Ashton’s lips makes it worth it, even if his eyes are still watery and red rimmed. 

With the new angle, Luke can hear what his mom is saying on the other side of the phone, though muffled and staticy by the distance between them. 

“ I just can’t believe he did this to you. You’ve given him nothing but love and this is how he repays you?” 

“I know,” Ashton says, sounding exhausted like he’s already heard this more than once from her. 

“ What are you supposed to do about the mortgage? And work? That vacation you were supposed to go on in August?” 

Ashton sighs, covering his face with his hand. In an attempt to offer any piece of comfort, Luke plays with the little tufts of curls that poke out behind Ashton’s head, twirling them around nimble fingers while he keeps talking. 

“He signed over the mortgage a week or so ago, so I’m in charge of the payments now. I’ll move into an apartment if it gets to be too much. Work is fine, I don’t see him at all. I don’t really care about the vacation right now, he can bring someone else or I’ll try to get a refund, it really doesn’t matter all that much.” 

Leave it to Ashton’s mom to think about the practical things, things that Ashton may not have actually been thinking about if it wasn’t for her commenting on them. It’s likely not doing any good though, not when he’s obviously upset. It’s a little frustrating that she’s even going on like this, especially when Luke knows how hard it was for Ashton to finally tell her about the split. 

He’s missed part of the conversation at this point, but tunes back in when Ashton’s raspy voice says his name. 

“—Luke has been here a lot too, I promise I’m not just here alone all the time. I did take some time off work but I’ve been back now and Cal makes sure that I haven’t seen him, even though that’s unnecessary because we work at the same place, so we’re bound to see each other eventually. But things outside of work are fine.” 

“ Luke is the blond one, right? I met him last year?” 

Ashton’s lips tug up into a little smile. “Yeah, the one we met through Cal, the dog trainer. He’s been keeping me company and helping me get through some of the shit. We took down all the old pictures and worked on getting Spencer’s mail forwarded to whatever place he’s staying at, I didn’t want more information about that. Mike and Cal helped get rid of his chair and all the random shit, but I think there’s still some of his things left in the spare room. I’ll work on getting rid of that stuff this weekend.”

“We,” Luke says quietly, scratching at Ashton’s scalp. Ashton removes his hand from his eyes to look at Luke in confusion, features warped from his upside down angle. “I’ll help,” Luke clarifies, shooting Ashton a small smile. 

“ —and really, if you need me to come down there, I will. I’d be happy to take care of you if that’s what you need.” 

Ashton snorts out a halfhearted laugh. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m eating and I’m moving and I’m breathing. Some days are better than others, but things are definitely looking brighter than they were during the first few days. I have a good support system,” he says, reaching a hand back to squeeze Luke’s leg in a silent thank you. 

Luke tunes out the rest of the conversation, letting them say their goodbyes with promises to call more often and share if things get too hard. It’s all words he’s said to Ashton himself, confirmations of love and support and care, all the things he needs to hear but likely meaning much more coming from his mother rather than a friend. 

Still, as Ashton hangs up the phone and tilts onto his side, pressing his still tear damp face into Luke’s t-shirt, Luke can’t help but feel a little twinge of adoration for Ashton, the way he’s handling all that life is throwing at him with grace and not allowing it to make him a bitter, nasty person. He still greets people with smiles, still opens the curtains to let the light in, still sings along to the radio on a good day. 

Even when the dark storm clouds roll in and Ashton retreats into his shell for a while, there’s a silent promise that things will get better, he will find his way out of the darkness for good at some point, and until that moment, Luke is happy to stand at the end of the tunnel with a flashlight, waving it around to guide Ashton’s way home. 

And if he decides at any point that he’d rather follow the path that leads him to Calum, or Michael, or his mom, Luke is fine with that too. Ashton deserves only the best and Luke will do everything in his power to make sure that happens. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton: come over earlier today? i have something that we should do 

Luke: okay, I can be there in 30. anything specific I should bring? 

Ashton: wear clothes that can get dirty

Luke: ...suspicious 

Ashton: just trust me

Luke: I always do

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Ash?” Luke calls, closing the front door behind him. 

“Upstairs!” Ashton’s voice calls back, barely heard over the sound of something screeching across the hardwood floor above him. 

Luke takes the steps up two at a time, coming to the top of the stairs to find Ashton’s dresser in the hallway. Tilting his head to the side in confusion, Luke slips around the side of the dresser, coming face to face with Ashton’s mattress on the other side. “What the hell,” Luke says, earning a laugh from Ashton in the distance.

“Bedroom,” Ashton says, voice ringing out louder now with their close proximity. 

Once Luke maneuvers his way around the bed, he steps into the doorway of Ashton’s room and is met with a whole lot of nothing. The entire room is empty, other than some drop cloths on the ground and a bag of supplies next to the closet door. Ashton is standing on a step stool holding a roll of blue painter’s tape. 

“We’re painting my bedroom!” Ashton says cheerfully. He does a strange rendition of jazz hands, shaking the tape around like a tambourine. 

“We?” Luke asks, raising his eyebrows suspiciously. 

“We,” Ashton confirms with a smile. “You’re helping me.” 

“Do I get a say in this?” 

“Would you possibly say no?” Ashton asks. 

The pause after Ashton’s words is enough of a confirmation that no, Luke would never say no to something Ashton asked. 

“Okay so I picked out this blue,” Ashton continues, “It’s called ‘ atmospheric’ and I think it’ll be nice to brighten up the room a little. Brown tones aren’t really my style.” 

The room is currently a medium beige, a little darker than anything Luke would choose for a bedroom. Obviously the same goes for Ashton if he's prepared to repaint it completely. 

“Just tell me what to do, boss,” Luke says, offering Ashton a salute and earning himself a sarcastic laugh in return. 

They make quick work of taping off the rest of the room, dancing along to the All Out 2000s playlist on Spotify. Luke learns that Ashton does a particularly passionate rendition of Grenade by Bruno Mars when he’s pressured hard enough. 

Ashton cracks open the paint can, revealing a light powder blue that instantly brings a fresh energy to the room, soaking up the sun rays as they beam through the open window. They get moving on painting the room, Ashton starting on the edges while Luke uses the roller to cover as much ground as possible. 

They work well together, sharing random memories of painting rooms from their childhood while they ease around the walls, pausing to sing along to whichever song is bumping through the speakers. It’s one of the more fun things they’ve done together, despite it being literal work compared to sitting around in the backyard drinking lemonade. 

“I’m glad I actually get to paint the bedroom what I want now,” Ashton says offhand after a few moments of silence. 

“I take it you didn’t get to choose the color before?” Luke asks, bending over to reload his roller with paint. 

“Nah, I didn’t get much say in the paint color for any of the rooms. Only the spare bedroom, actually.” 

“Ah that’s why it’s pee yellow,” Luke laughs, receiving an offended scoff from Ashton in response. 

“How dare you,” he squacks, holding his hand over his heart dramatically. “I love that color.” 

Luke chuckles. “You really are yellow.” 

“Best color out there,” Ashton affirms. “Other than this blue. This blue is a pretty close second.” 

“What’s so special about this blue?” 

There’s a moment of silence, broken only by Miley Cyrus singing Party in the USA in the background. “Reminds me of you,” Ashton says quietly, working on the edges around the windowsill. 

And well. What is Luke supposed to say to that? It warms something in his chest, deep down in spots that no one has touched for years. It’s flattering, incredibly sweet that Ashton would think to paint his room something that reminds him of Luke, much like Luke picking out a fish that reminds him of Ashton. There’s something about color association that means a lot to Luke. 

But as always, Luke’s natural response to kind comments is deflection and jokes. “What, you chose this color so you’ll never sleep again because I’ll give you nightmares?” The teasing doesn’t make much sense and he knows that as he grimaces. 

Ashton doesn’t even take the hint to joke about it. “No, I chose it because it makes me happy and makes me feel safe.” 

And now, really, what is Luke supposed to say to that? He’s eternally grateful that Ashton is that comfortable with him, but the sincerity makes him vaguely uncomfortable. Uncomfortable might not be the word, the more that he thinks about it. 

No, it’s more like undeserving. He doesn’t deserve to have such a permanent spot in Ashton’s home like this, one where he can’t even avoid seeing the color that reminds him of Luke since it’s such a central point to his everyday life. He’s only been a solid fixture for a handful of weeks now; what happens if somehow their friendship goes south? 

“Luke,” Ashton says, suddenly extremely close to Luke’s spot on the step stool. 

“What-” Luke starts, only to be cut off by the chill of something cold splattering across his cheek. “Hey!” he screeches, reaching up to stop the wetness from the paint dripping down his skin. 

“Oops,” Ashton laughs, looking not at all sorry for his actions. “Must have slipped.” 

“Must have slipped, bullshit,” Luke complains, lips pulled up into his sideways smirk to show that he’s not actually annoyed by the action. 

Ashton just shrugs, deep dimple carving into the smooth skin on his cheek as he downright giggles in amusement. 

His laugh is almost musical, especially after so long of not hearing it at all. He’d been so far gone from the way he used to be that even this little display of something cheeky and childlike is almost worth celebrating. 

But rather than make a big deal of it, Luke keeps his pride to himself, instead opting to text Calum and Michael a quick, “ I think Ash is finally feeling more like himself,” before resuming his work on painting the wall, blue swipe of paint staying right on his cheek through the whole afternoon.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Somewhere along the line, Ashton and Luke start doing most things together. 

Luke needs to go pick up more treats for some of the pups he’s training this week? Ashton tags along to look at the cats up for adoption and pick out something new for Daffodil’s tank. The lamp in Ashton’s bedroom fell off the side table and cracked? Luke is coming along to IKEA to get a new one. A new record went on sale that both of them want? There’s no reason to take two separate cars, even if it’s out of the way to pick the other one up before going to the store. 

Grocery shopping is definitely one of the things that’s just better when you do it with someone else. 

Monday evenings have become their regularly scheduled grocery shopping outings, skipping out on the chaos of shopping on the weekends and instead opting for the quiet peace of a Monday night with no one around. They share a cart, sometimes accidentally going home with the other person’s stuff, but whatever is lost always ends up back in the proper owner’s hands at some point. 

Ashton comes prepared with a list every time, carefully checking off things as they go, where Luke chaotically grabs things as he sees them and sometimes (every time) ends up forgetting something that he actually needs. It’s a good routine. 

“Do I need milk?” Ashton asks, staring at the display of cartons behind the glass. 

“Fuck if I know,” Luke says, pulling a carton out for himself and dropping it on the far end of the cart. 

“Useless, why do I keep you around?” 

“Companionship and my stunning personality.” 

Ashton doesn’t answer, electing to get himself a small carton to match Luke’s. He checks what’s next on his paper list before rolling the cart down the next aisle, leaving Luke to wander behind him while looking for whatever sounds good. He already has two different kinds of chips and at least three different types of cheese on his side of the shopping cart, all for lack of knowing what he’s going to want in a few days. 

As if he’s really going to be at his own apartment for much of that time, given how often he winds up on Ashton’s couch. 

“Want to try that enchilada bake thing I sent you the link for? Maybe Thursday?” Ashton says, inspecting which package of chicken he’s going to buy. 

“Yeah sure, I don’t think I have anything going on.” 

It’s still taking some getting used to, the way that they have intertwined their lives so thoroughly and quickly. Luke has always been used to eating freezer meals and snacks instead of proper home cooked food, while Ashton is too used to making dinner for another person almost every night. Their differences have never been more apparent than they have been in the past few weeks, but Luke would be lying if he said he didn’t love eating actual meals for a change. 

“Oh fuck, I need to get—” Ashton starts, before he stops cold, letting out a little huff of air from his nose. 

“Huh?” Luke asks, gripping onto the end of the cart to look Ashton in the face. 

Ashton shakes his head, clearing away the thought that was fluttering behind his eyelids. “Uh, I was about to say I need to get Spencer’s coffee creamer, but uh. I guess I don’t need to do that.” 

“Oh,” Luke mumbles, looking down at the collection of items in the cart. It never really occurred to him before now that there were things that Ashton used to buy that he no longer has to in the same way that he’s unlearning all the ways he used to live his life as part of a strong relationship. 

Ashton has been doing so well lately, not getting as choked up as he used to by the smallest things. At just over two months since the breakup, it’s only a matter of time before he stops having these moments of remembering how things used to be before everything went to shit. 

“Sorry,” Ashton coughs, blinking a few times like he’s trying to reorient himself with the world around him. “That was just weird. Hadn’t done that in a while.” 

“It’s fine,” Luke says, shooting him a smile. “I get it, it’s weird. You went from buying food for him to getting snacks for me.” 

“Snacks for you?” Ashton laughs, washing away the last remnants of sadness that were gracing the apples of his cheeks. “I’m not buying you shit.” 

Putting on his best puppy dog eyes, Luke grabs a roll of premade cookie dough from the shelf to his left and holds it out for Ashton. “Please? Make these tonight and we can share them?” 

“You’re pathetic,” Ashton says, but takes the roll regardless, dropping it with his section of food. A little too easy, a little too willing to bend over to make Luke happy, but he’ll take it. 

Luke jostles the end of the cart, propping one foot up on the shelf underneath until Ashton catches what he’s doing. Ashton opens his mouth to likely reprimand Luke for acting like a child, but Luke doesn’t give him the chance to. Instead he pops his other foot off the ground, now standing with both feet on the shelf and his hands securely wrapped around the end of the shopping cart, folded over at a slightly awkward angle due to his height, but still in a position where he can turn his head up to grin at Ashton. 

“Onward?” he asks through his own breathy laugh, grinning at the way Ashton rolls his eyes fondly before struggling to push the cart forward. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Ashton says, dimple popping out as he laughs, pushing Luke down the aisle. 

There’s something about the way he says it that catches Luke’s ear, but he lets it go, landing somewhere among the yogurts and crescent rolls as they turn the corner and continue on their grocery shopping adventures. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Luke: i think i’m gonna kill this dog if it doesn’t learn to sit 

Ashton: isnt that your job?? 

Luke: yes but the owners refuse to listen to me and keep doing the exact opposite of what I say

Ashton: well its there loss if the dog doesnt sit

Luke: and my reputation going down the gutter

Ashton: dramatic. tacos for dinner, see you later 💛

Luke: 💙

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton’s couch has slowly become Luke’s favorite place to think. 

There’s something about the plush brown cushions and soft cotton that are welcoming, allowing for him to sink right in and stay a while. Luke has taken to laying on the chaise lounge part more often than not, legs either tucked up under him or laid out straight in front, stretched so his feet hang off the edge. 

His left arm rests nicely on the side of the couch, while his right side is either occupied by a pillow squished up against him, or Ashton. 

It’s been a slowly evolving routine of Ashton slouching into his corner of the couch at first, maybe for a few minutes or a half hour at most, before he slides across the open seat and lands with his head on Luke’s lap or bicep, worming his way in until he’s wrapped up in Luke. 

The first few times were a little strange, getting used to touching Ashton casually without there being an emotional meltdown to accompany it. Luke loves every second of it, but it took a few days to let it truly sink in that Ashton is asking for this, he wants to be cuddled, he likes physical affection. 

That’s really the part that’s been tripping Luke up, that Ashton enjoys this. All throughout their friendship pre break up, Ashton has been the least touchy-feely of all of them. Calum will launch himself at Luke or Michael without a second thought, throwing his entire body across theirs. Michael constantly likes to play with Luke and Calum’s curls, twirling ringlets around his fingers and complaining about how flat his own hair is. 

But Ashton has always his distance. He’s always been the one that would pull his foot away if it accidentally grazed someone else’s, or scooch away from someone on the couch so everyone had enough personal space. 

Luke always thought it was just an Ashton thing, that he didn’t want to be touched by anyone else, so he respected it and didn’t ask any questions. Spending more time with him like this has proven just how little he really knew about Ashton on more than a surface level. 

Getting to know him over the past handful of months has been eye opening for Luke. He’s seen a side of Ashton he didn’t know existed, one that’s affectionate and hilarious and vulnerable in a way that Ashton has never been before. He’s honest, talking about the downfalls of suddenly being alone, but not self obsessed, because he still asks Luke about his life and the dogs he’s training. 

It might just be the adjustment of going from seeing Ashton maybe once a week or so to seeing him five or six times a week, but he’s a different person, someone that Luke too is coming to trust more with each passing moment. 

Ashton shuffles under Luke’s arm, adjusting the way that his head is resting against Luke’s chest. Taking a look down, Luke sees the way that Ashton is trained on the TV, watching The Aristocat s (Ashton’s choice, as surprising as it may sound). But more than just seeing the way Ashton is looking at the TV, Luke finds himself taking in Ashton for all he is. 

Most of his head is obstructed by a nest of messy curls, darkened in the low light of the living room, but still shining. They float down across his forehead, half getting smushed against Luke’s chest and half bouncing with the slight movement of Luke breathing beneath him. His forehead is smooth, leading perfectly down the slope of his nose where it drops off into the pool of his cupid’s bow. His dark lashes cast tiny needled shadows across his cheeks, fanning down on the little concealed smattering of freckles that have started to pop out in the summer sun. 

He nibbles on his plush pink bottom lip, kneading it between his teeth as the cartoon reflects off the little slivers of his eyes that Luke can see from his angle. He looks calm, comfortable in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants with bare feet, always bare feet. 

It’s a side of him that Luke has never really gotten the privilege to see. 

Normally adorning jeans and nicer shirts, Ashton has always presented himself as put together and neat, someone that you can trust and rely on. He’s still that same person in times like these, but he’s softer, more comfortable in his own skin when he’s not putting on any kind of front. 

Luke isn’t quite sure how he became someone that Ashton no longer has to put a front on for. He can see it easily in the way he acts differently when Michael and Calum are around, instantly falling into the role of the caretaker and the one who always has his shit together, even when he was broken to pieces. He leads the pack in more ways than one, but when it’s just him and Luke alone, there’s no need to lead. They can walk side by side, as equals. 

And Luke loves it. 

He loves the way that Ashton will laugh so hard his eyes flood with tears when Luke says something particularly funny. He loves getting dragged into the kitchen to make dinner with Ashton despite almost always messing something up along the way. He loves laying on the couch and telling stories about training dogs, whether it’s Poppy’s innocent stupidity or Beta’s cat-like tendency to jump on everything she sees. He loves feeling heard by Ashton, knowing that he’s listening and actually absorbing the things that Luke is saying to him. 

He loves spending time with Ashton. 

He loves spending time with Ashton more than he’s ever loved spending time with another person. 

It causes his breath to hitch in his chest, stuttering below Ashton’s ear as he desperately tries to regain his slow, melodic breathing. 

The only time he’s ever loved spending time with someone nearly as much as he loves spending time with Ashton is when he’s developing feelings for someone else. 

This can’t be right. 

He can’t have feelings for Ashton. It’s Ashton, his now closest friend. It’s Ashton, who listens, and laughs, and cares, and grins at Luke with a megawatt smile that could light up the darkest rooms. It’s Ashton, who has started handing Luke his heart in tiny pieces, asking for help putting it back together. 

It’s Ashton, who Luke is happy to have leaning on his arm right now, beginning to fall asleep as they watch a movie. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This new arrangement has been nothing but trying to help Ashton get over the break up; this wasn’t supposed to become something more than a stronger friendship. 

Maybe he’s just been spending too much time with Ashton. He’s just a convenient person for his heart and mind to fixate on, since he’s accessible and wants to be around Luke just as much as he wants to be around Ashton. It’s fine, he can reign in these emotions and hold them tight, there’s no reason to be concerned here. 

It wouldn’t be fair anyway, to fall for someone who is still so broken up about someone else. He’s not a rebound, he deserves better, and so does Ashton. 

So he’ll tuck these feelings away, pretend that they don’t exist and it’s nothing to worry about, because he’s going to be a good friend for someone who needs it. His feelings aren’t the important ones here. 

Ashton snores softly as if to say yeah, that’s right, I’m the important one. 

No matter what, Luke will just keep that in mind. He’s doing this for Ashton. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton: i swear that freshman get stupider every year

Luke: isn’t it your job to teach them how not to be stupid?

Ashton: no, thats calums job

Ashton: i mean yes, that is my job, but also you would think its common sense not to throw a baseball at a dorm window during orientation 

Luke: did they at least hit the window they were aiming at? 

Ashton: unfortunately no, he was aiming for the bat. he missed the mark by about 300 feet

Luke: safe to say he isn’t a baseball recruit then?

Ashton: somehow he is. hope he doesnt make the team

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Will you come with me to do something?” Ashton asks, picking at the edge of his thumb nail. 

They’ve been sitting in the backyard, quietly enjoying the sunshine on a Saturday morning. The question is out of nowhere, so Luke narrows his eyes at Ashton suspiciously. 

“Where are we going?” Luke asks, taking in the way that Ashton is gnawing at his bottom lip. He’s nervous, tense about something that Luke just can’t put his finger on. It’s an emotion that he’s still learning to categorize with Ashton, still just off center in a way that he can’t seem to nail. 

“Can we just go and I’ll explain when we’re there?” Ashton’s voice is small, a tone reserved for the late hours of the night more than it’s used for conversations in the daylight. He looks at Luke across the yard with wide, worried eyes that twinkle in the sunshine. He’s pleading with Luke to say yes without more questioning, blinking golden hazel eyes at him with a touch of a pout on his lips. 

“When have I ever said no to going somewhere with you,” Luke says, tossing the teasing tone in to hopefully alleviate some of Ashton’s nerves. 

Ashton doesn’t smile in return. 

He doesn’t smile as he drives down the winding roads towards the city, doesn’t sing along to the music as he normally would, doesn’t tease Luke for folding his legs up under himself in the passenger seat. 

He doesn’t even say a single word. 

It’s worrisome, the way the skin around his fingers is picked raw and red, angry in the sunlight filtering through the windshield. He’s lost off somewhere in his own world, operating on autopilot to get them to wherever it is that they’re going. Luke would offer to drive if he had a single clue what errand Ashton was bringing him on. 

Ashton parks the car in front of T’s Jewelers, staring up at the sign like it’s moments away from falling down onto the car. He swallows thickly and runs a hand over his face before turning to Luke, mask clicking into place as he prepares to get out of the car. He smiles, but it falls into a grimace quickly, so he sighs. 

Without a word, he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door, turning to open the back door as soon as the driver’s side is shut. Luke falters for a moment. Is he supposed to follow Ashton? Not letting his mind get the best of him, Luke jumps out of the car and waits at the sidewalk for Ashton to lock up. His semi surprised, semi relieved smile is just a cubic zirconia in a room of diamonds. 

“You don’t have to come in,” Ashton says, holding a small bag in his left hand as he pockets his keys. 

“Of course I’m coming in.” Luke grabs the door, holding it open for Ashton to walk through, pretending not to see him pause at the threshold. The deep breath he takes echoes in the strip mall parking lot. 

Just being in a jewelry store is uncomfortable. Everything is so fucking expensive and fragile, made of precious minerals and shining under intentionally placed lighting. The employees all look so judgmental, dressed in their pressed suits and fancy dresses, waiting to come in for the kill. 

A younger man in a gray suit ends up circling in first, a customer service grin eating away at his skin. “How can I help you gentlemen today?” 

Luke looks to Ashton for an answer, eyebrows furrowing when he sees the slight shake in Ashton’s hands. “I need to make a return,” Ashton says, holding out the bag to the employee. 

The man tsks. “Can I interest you in an exchange instead? I’m sure we have something else here that may be what you’re looking for if this piece wasn’t right.” 

“No,” Ashton says, biting on his lip carefully. “That’s okay, just the return.” 

“Are you sure?” the man starts, gesturing back to the collection of earrings and necklaces behind him. “We just got some new stock in and I could show you the best pieces.” 

“Just the return,” Ashton says again, slightly more forceful. 

“Maybe a store credit then—?” The man gets cut off by a curt laugh from Ashton. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want anything else from this store, I’d really like to pretend this all doesn’t exist, because I proposed to my ex with this ring and he said no, so if you’d be so kind, just process the damn return,” Ashton barks, balling his hands into fists to stop the shaking. 

Luke’s stomach drops. 

The rest of the store goes silent other than the soft piano music floating in the background. The other employees look on in horror as the poor man in front of them flounders for a moment. “Oh of course, I’m so sorry sir, let me just…” He whisks the bag away and disappears into the back, leaving Luke and Ashton alone in the lobby while the others whisper on the sidelines. 

Ashton’s eyes slip closed, so Luke takes the opportunity to look him over. His hands are still balled up tight, shaking slightly even with how tense his shoulders are. Lip trapped between his teeth, jaw set, breathing heavily in through his nose and out through his mouth, he stands in the middle of the room looking more distraught than Luke has seen him through any of this experience. 

He wants to reach out and touch Ashton, hold his hand to offer comfort, rub his shoulder to ease the tension, hold him tightly to hide him away from the pain he’s in. But right now, Ashton is desperately trying to uphold the image that he’s not crumbling, at least to the general public, so Luke takes a step closer, so they’re almost touching, hoping at least his presence offers some kind of comfort. 

The man returns after a few minutes holding a receipt and a pen. “I just need you to sign off on this receipt and you’ll be all set.” At least he looks genuinely embarrassed for having pushed so hard, eyes downcast even as Ashton hands him the signed paper. “Thank you. And if you ever find yourself needing fine jewelry again, my name is Kyle and I’d be happy to help you find something new.” 

Ashton doesn’t say a word as he turns towards the door to leave, rushing to get out as fast as he can. Luke throws the employee a slightly dirty, slightly apologetic look alongside a “thank you” as he follows behind. 

The bell tinkles as the door closes behind them. 

Ashton’s eyes are shut again, leaning with his back against the brick wall just to the right of the store. He runs his hands down his face, leaving them covering his eyes for a moment too long as Luke scuffs his feet, unsure just what to do. 

“It’s done, you did it,” Luke says, resting a hand on Ashton’s shoulder. The muscles relax just a miniscule amount. 

“Can you drive?” Ashton says in a quiet voice, barely whispering behind his hands. 

“Course,” Luke nods, taking the key from Ashton’s hand as soon as it’s offered to him. 

They drive in silence for a few minutes, just long enough to get off the main streets and out towards Ashton’s house. As soon as they’re on a back road, Ashton sniffles. 

One sniffle is followed by another, then a wet cough that Luke could place anywhere now that he’s heard it a few times. He knows a crying Ashton needs a chance to talk and feel heard, so he pulls over on the side of the road the first chance he gets. 

The engine’s humming masks a little bit of the noises Ashton makes, but the second the car is in park, it all goes out the window. 

“Fuck,” Ashton sobs, letting his head fall foward into his hands, propped up on his knees. “Fuck.” 

“It’s over,” Luke says, turning to face Ashton. “It’s all over, you don’t have to do that ever again.” Luke’s stomach physically hurts seeing how distraught Ashton is, knowing there isn’t a damn thing in the entire world that could make him feel better right now. He does the only thing he knows he can do, runs a hand up and down Ashton’s back in what he hopes is a soothing pattern. 

“I can’t believe I even tried to propose.” The words carve themselves into the glass windshield, permanently etching their place in Ashton’s car. “I bought him a fucking ring and I had to return it because he said no.” 

Chills run down Luke’s spine as he fiddles with the rings on his left hand, right hand still trailing up and down Ashton’s spine across the middle console. He didn’t know Ashton even had a ring until today, until it was being handed over to the employee like it was trash that Ashton never wanted to see again. Something so carefully chosen and intentionally bought with so much thought behind it now will belong to someone else. 

“I didn’t know you proposed,” Luke says quietly. 

“I didn’t tell anyone because I was nervous. Well, Cal knew, but I was going to tell you guys once we were engaged. But instead of that, I got to call and say that we broke up.” 

“That was all the same day?” 

Ashton nods. “Yeah, I didn’t even get to fully ask him because when I took out the ring, he panicked and said we need to break up. So that was fun.” 

It doesn’t make any sense still, not even weeks after they’ve been separated with no shot of getting back together. Something still just doesn’t sit right for Luke, between the announcement being out of character for Spencer and the sadness being strange on Ashton, with Luke just an outsider sitting on the sidelines, watching it all take place. 

“Sometimes I think that I’m gonna be okay, and then there’s something like this. I feel like every piece of myself is being ripped away and put back together in a way that I don’t understand. I don’t even know who I am,” Ashton continues through a shuddering sigh, wiping at the tears that just don’t seem like they’re stopping. 

“That’s okay,” Luke says, but Ashton cuts him off. 

“It’s not fucking okay. It’s been fucking months and every time I think it’s done, that I’m getting over him, I’m right back where I fucking started.” 

“You’re not though,” Luke says adamantly. “You’re not back at the start. You’re months into healing and you’re getting better with each day. It fucking sucks that you have to go through things like this, but the fact that you even could get rid of the ring is a sign that you’re taking the right steps forward. I’m proud of you.” 

Ashton sniffles again, choking on a sob like cough. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, trying to regulate his breathing as Luke still rubs his back, hand trailing up, then slowly back down. A slightly sick little twinge of happiness runs through Luke’s stomach at the thought that he’s the one here helping Ashton get over all of this; he’s the person that Ashton wanted by his side when he did one of the hardest parts of the breakup. 

He feels incredibly guilty that Ashton’s pain brings him any kind of satisfaction, trying to check that thought and send it back to where it’s been hiding. All of the time he’s spent with Ashton has been in an attempt to get him back to where he was before, happy and safe and loved, so there should be no part of Luke that even begins to want the lingering sadness to withstand the test of time.

“I’m trying so hard,” Ashton says quietly, almost to himself. 

“You are, you’re doing so good. I’m proud of you, Calum and Mike are proud of you, your mom is proud of you. But it’s okay if you have setbacks, no one is expecting you to be any certain type of way by any certain time.” 

Ashton nods, breathing out through his mouth loudly. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Okay.” He shakes his hands out, rolling his shoulders back and out of Luke’s reach. “Thank you. I’m sorry I keep having meltdowns like that.” 

“Stop fucking saying sorry,” Luke chastizes lightly, smiling to show that he’s truly not mad. 

“I know, but I feel bad. All I’ve been doing for the past few months is being depressed and making you spend time with me.” 

“Making?” Luke laughs. “Ash, I like spending time with you. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. But I like spending time with you, I like you.” The subtext to Luke’s words is right on the tip of his tongue, eager to fall off and pop in the air with little screams of “ I like you!” “As more than friends!” “I’ll spend any time with you!” 

But Luke bites back the bubbles, smiling instead as Ashton wipes away the rest of his tears. He shifts the car into drive again and says, “Let’s go home.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton: Calum is suggesting that we all rent a beach house in between me and yous birthdays 

Luke: doesn’t he know we’d all kill each other

Ashton: thats what i said but he thinks itll be fun

Luke: who isn’t going to make it home alive, I vote Michael

Ashton: same, we can feed him to the sharks

Luke: perfect

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“You didn’t have to set up a training session with me,” Luke says, wandering slowly across the dog park grass to where Calum and Duke are waiting, hidden under a tree. “I’d do this for you for free.” 

“Setting up an appointment was the only way I knew you would actually show up,” Calum says, a slight edge to his voice even if the lazy grin would typically show otherwise. 

Luke reels back a little in offense, kneeling down to pet Duke as a means of avoiding looking at Calum. “What’s that supposed to mean? 

“Just that I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Luke shrugs, standing up to face Calum directly. He’s got his arms crossed, dark glasses over his eyes to hide the likely judgemental stare on his face. It’s not a look that Luke is all that familiar with when it comes to Calum, so he keeps his own guard up. 

Duke scurries between his and Calum’s feet, sniffling both of them on his loose leash. He blinks up at them with wide brown eyes, unsure of what’s going on, but attuned to the tension in the air. 

“Busy, yeah,” Calum scoffs. 

“What the fuck is up with you,” Luke says, crossing his arms over his chest to mirror Calum’s stance. He hasn’t even been here for five minutes and he’s already getting an attitude from someone who’s supposed to be one of his closest friends. It’s a little off putting and makes him want to turn around and march back to the car, paid training session be damned. 

“What the fuck is up with you!” Calum replies, arching an eyebrow above the rim of his glasses. 

“I’m really fucking confused,” Luke says, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re pissed off right now.” 

“What’s going on with you and Ashton?” Calum says, tugging on Duke’s leash as he wanders away to sniff a flower. 

“What do you mean?” Luke asks, breathing increasing a little. He knows it’s more than obvious that he’s been spending most of his free time with Ashton, and sure, maybe he hasn’t been the best friend to Calum (and Michael) lately, but that isn’t a reason for him to deserve so much aggression. 

Calum purses his lips. “You spend almost every evening there. Every time I talk to Ash, it’s Luke this, Luke that. I’m just worried.” 

“Worried about what,” Luke says, toning down the defensive tone that wants to slide into his voice. It’s easy for him to get defensive on his own behalf, but even easier for him to get defensive for Ashton. He’s seen him go through so much shit over the past nearly three months, he doesn’t need drama with his best friend either. 

“Don’t make me say it,” Calum says. 

Luke doesn’t make any moves to speak, squinting at Calum in the sunlight. Distantly, children play on the playground and dogs run around the fenced in dog park just to the right. It’s the best place to train experienced dogs given how much outside stimulation there is. It forces them to block out the other noise and focus just on Luke and their owner. 

Not that Duke even needs any training. Neither Luke nor Calum is naive enough to believe that he needs it. 

“I’m worried that you’re catching feelings.” 

Luke blows a raspberry, rolling his eyes as he feels the back of his neck start to sweat with the stress of being figured out. “I don’t have feelings for him.” 

“Luke,” Calum deadpans. 

“I don’t! And even if I did, what’s it to you? He’s an adult, he makes his own decisions.” 

Calum nods, like everything Luke said confirms his suspicions. It probably did, Luke is an absolutely awful liar. “He’s an adult who just got out of a fucking six year relationship, bro. A six year relationship where he proposed to someone and it fell apart.” 

“You knew about that?” Luke says, surprised. 

“Of course I did. Ashton tells me everything. Or at least, he used to, because lately he’s been especially tight lipped about pretty much everything. I just know he’s been spending a lot of time with you.” 

“Are you blaming me for ruining your friendship?” Luke replies, scrunching his face up in distaste. 

“Stop deflecting,” Calum says sharply. “I’m not blaming you for shit. I see Ashton at work five days a week, I’m not concerned about our friendship. I’m concerned about the amount of time you’re suddenly spending with him.” 

“Look,” Luke says, “I’m not fighting you for Ashton. I’ve been hanging out with him because I like spending time with him and he likes spending time with me. I’ve been trying to be a good friend through his breakup, is that a fucking crime?” 

Calum visibly softens, shoulders relaxing with the lifted tension. He sighs, looking down at Duke, who’s lounging in the grass without a care in the world, watching the birds as they fly by. The moment hangs heavy around them. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about both of you. He’s fragile, he hasn’t been single in six fucking years and I don’t want him getting hurt by getting into something too quick. And I don’t want you getting hurt by starting to like someone who’s still not back to 100% yet.” Calum scuffs his vans against the grass, kicking up a few pieces. 

Luke shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to worry about, I want what’s best for him too. He’s still getting over Spencer and that’s fine, nothing is going on between us. Just friends, I promise.” The statement makes Luke’s chest hurt a little, but he conceals the ache with a (hopefully) convincing smile. 

It’s clear that Calum doesn’t fully buy it, but he relents, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I believe you. I guess everyone is just a little in love with Ashton, I get jealous when too many people are all over my man.” The teasing tone is back in Calum’s voice, but he’s smiling now, tone void of any of the judgment it was carrying before. 

Duke chooses that moment to yip quietly around a yawn, shaking his shaggy fur out as he basks in the sun. Luke frowns down at him. “What could Duke possibly need to be trained on?” 

Calum laughs, cheeks squishing up and moving his sunglasses with a force of it. “He doesn’t, I was just forcing you to have this conversation since I was paying for your time.” 

“Fucker,” Luke says, shoving Calum’s shoulder playfully. “Wanna get coffee then?” 

Calum eagerly nods, starting on the way towards the line of shops on the other side of the park. 

As they walk, Luke lets his anxiety churn in his stomach a bit. He knew fostering any feelings for Ashton would be terrible for everyone involved, but hearing it directly from Calum is just a confirmation of the fact. He’d be abusing Ashton’s vulnerability if he were to pursue anything more than friendship if it was mutual, and if it wasn’t, he would be ruining the friendship dynamic that they’ve all established together. 

He’s already the odd man out, the only one who doesn’t work at the University, the one who joined the group last, the one who is possibly replaceable in all of this. It’s not worth losing everything he’s come to love over his time here just to take a chance on something he’s not even entirely sure about himself. 

Luke isn’t going to get into any sticky situations with Ashton. He’s just not. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Somehow though, sticky situations just seem to find Luke. 

He doesn’t like getting backed into a tough spot, hates when he’s trapped with no escape route, and loathes any situations where he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. 

The need for predictability has decreased over the years as he’s learned how to cope with uncertain scenarios, but that doesn’t mean that he dives into uncharted waters without checking the temperature first. 

Lying on Ashton’s couch hasn’t been a place where he’s felt off balance since the first nights they spent sitting there, forming the foundations of what would inevitably become this close knit friendship. It’s his home away from home, a place where he can let loose and be himself completely in the same way that Ashton does. 

So nothing should be abnormal about another evening with their legs tangled together as they watch a movie. 

And for a while, nothing is different about it at all. Ashton is curled up against him, head resting on his chest while Luke runs his fingers up and down Ashton’s back. They occasionally exchange a few words about whatever’s happening on TV, but there comes a point where Luke realizes he’s no longer paying attention to the screen and instead fixating on the way that Ashton’s hand is moving against him.

Ashton absently runs his hand up and down Luke’s chest, trailing down towards his stomach on every other downstroke. It’s soothing, lolling slowly across the plains of his shirt, catching over the hills in the fabric every so often. The constant physical touch hasn’t quite lost its novelty yet, still sending a tiny zip of excitement down Luke’s spine at the sweetness of being close to someone else. 

Jesus he needs to find someone and get laid if just cuddling with his friend is making his mind go in southern directions. 

“You know,” Ashton says randomly, stopping around Luke’s ribs to tap out a rhythm that only he can decipher, “I’m kinda grateful for the breakup.” 

Luke huffs out a breath of air through his nose, something like a laugh catching in the back of his throat. “Grateful?” 

“Yeah, because if I wasn’t in a damn near downward spiral, then you wouldn’t have started coming over here and we wouldn’t have gotten as close as we are now.” 

Luke’s heart thumps a little louder in his chest, rattling against his lungs in a pattern matching the one Ashton drums on his body, like everything is in sync for them. He’d be lying if he said he also wasn’t a tiny bit happy that things have turned out the way they have, even if it came with quite a few tears from Ashton and long nights for both of them. 

“I’m happy about that too. I wish it might have happened under other circumstances rather than coming with a heartbreak for you, but I’m glad that I could be here to help.” Luke says. 

There’s a long pause where Ashton doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move his hands, doesn’t make any indication that he’s going to keep the conversation going. Luke can’t see if he has any kind of look on his face, only privy to the intertwining curls tangled together on the top of his head as he rests on Luke’s body. 

“I don’t think I’m as sad about the breakup anymore,” Ashton says suddenly, quietly, like a secret between them. 

“Good,” Luke hums. “I’m so glad that you’ve made some progress.” 

“I don’t think I could have done it without you though,” Ashton replies, tilting up towards Luke’s face slightly, so they can lock eyes. They’re close enough that Luke can feel the tiny breaths of air from Ashton’s mouth, lips parted slightly to indicate that he’s not quite done talking yet. In the low light, his eyes are dark, a murky moss green that’s warm and inviting, ready for Luke to snuggle up into like the safest blanket. 

“You’ve been the best support through all of this and I love spending almost every day with you. You make me laugh and make me smile even when I was just fucking crying, and you make every day worth getting out of bed,” he mumbles, eyelids low as he talks with a small smile on his face. 

Luke swallows awkwardly. “That’s all you. I just come and sit on your couch and eat your snacks and feed Daffodil,” he says, feeling a bit like he’s been backed into a corner here. There’s a subtext to everything he’s saying, little annotated notes to the side that wonder “ is he coming onto me right now? Am I actually reading this right?”

Ashton shrugs, shoulder moving against Luke’s, bare skin brushing with the movement. Luke prays his goosebumps don’t give anything away. Blame it on the air conditioning. “Maybe, but I’m glad that it’s you over anyone else. There’s no one else I would rather have in this position.” 

“Don’t let Calum hear you say that,” Luke teases, heart so far up his throat that he can feel every beat as it shakes his larynx. 

“I love Calum, but none of this would have been the same if it was him who had been here for me. You’re special, Luke, and you’ve taught me so much over the past few months.” As he finishes speaking, he raises his hand to graze his knuckles along Luke’s jaw, index finger gently caressing the swell of his bottom lip before it trails down his chin and back to his chest. 

“Ashton,” Luke warns low in the back of his throat, pulse jumping through his veins. 

“Tell me if I’m completely wrong here,” Ashton downright purrs, flattening his hand against Luke’s stomach, feeling the way his stomach rises and falls with every inhale. 

“Ashton,” Luke says again, half a plea and half a question, eyes widening. This can’t be happening.

Moving his hand slowly up Luke’s chest, Ashton tilts up, positioning himself so they’re more or less chest to chest on the lounge portion of the couch. He’s perched on his forearm at Luke’s side, giving him a bit of height to look down at Luke. 

Heart in his throat, Luke forces himself to keep close eye contact with Ashton, watching the way he traces his eyes across Luke’s face, taking in the small details with every inch that they traverse. Ashton bites the corner of his lip, suppressing a smile. “I love your dimples,” he says under his breath, trailing his hand completely up Luke’s chest to the side of his face. 

“Ashton,” Luke says again, barely a breath of air through his mouth, lips parted. There’s no other thought on his mind right now, taking in the nearly hungry look on Ashton’s face, the quirk of his own cheek to pull his deep right dimple into place. His brain throws out a mantra of Ashton’s name, flooding every sense with nothing but the scent of Ashton’s citrus shampoo, the touch of his gentle fingers, the sound of his labored breathing, the sight of his beauty. 

There’s only one sense that isn’t entirely Ashton. 

“Can I?” Ashton asks, breath fanning out across Luke’s lips as he speaks. 

Luke swallows, fear and thrill swirling around his stomach and up his throat, rendering him unable to say a thing other than a whispered “Yes.” 

He tastes like new beginnings and lemonade. 

Maybe Luke blacks out for a moment, maybe his mind freezes and once it reboots, he’s lost a few seconds. Maybe he’s just so present that the details are somehow hazy. Ashton’s lips are on his, first pressing slowly with no intention other than to feel Luke’s. It’s still enough to draw a gasp from Luke, one that Ashton takes as an invitation to move. 

And fuck, if this isn’t one of the best first kisses Luke has ever had. With years of kissing only one person, Ashton really shouldn’t be this good, Luke’s overwhelmed brain thinks when Ashton’s lips slide deliciously against his, adding just the right amount of pressure. 

His hand is tangled in the sensitive hair at Luke’s temple, tugging on it just the right amount to leave pleasant twinkles shooting through Luke’s nerves. It feels good, damn near too good to be true as Ashton begins to run his tongue along Luke’s lips, begging for entry. 

Ashton shifts, leaning almost completely against Luke, chest to chest, pressure all consuming until suddenly, out of nowhere, Luke’s brain catches up and screeches “ no, stop, don’t do this!”

“Stop,” Luke mumbles, pushing Ashton away slightly. 

As if he’s been burned, Ashton falls away from Luke, leaving just a few inches of space between them as he pants, blinking wildly. “What, are you okay?” 

Luke laughs humorlessly, eyes wide and hands trembling. “Ash, we can’t.” 

Ashton’s face falls, regret and embarrassment coating each of his features. “Damn, I really read that wrong huh,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly. 

Running a hand over his own face, Luke shakes his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s just. You just got out of a really long relationship, I can’t take advantage of you like that.” 

“You? I’m the one who initiated that,” Ashton says with confusion flooding his eyes. 

“You’re vulnerable, I’ve probably been unconsciously pushing you towards this without trying, I’m sorry.” 

“Luke,” Ashton says in disbelief, but Luke keeps talking. 

“Fuck, I knew I should have taken a step back after I started thinking too hard. I’m sorry for pressuring you, or maybe trying to coerce you into this, I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to get anything from you, I promise, I only just realized I was being a little more than friendly and I should have stopped it as soon as I realized, I’m so sorry.” 

A smirk falls across Ashton’s lips, pulling up the right side as he laughs. “Calm down, damn. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for like three weeks.”

“What?” Luke chokes, eyes widening. There’s just no way. 

“I’m an adult, I think for myself. You didn’t coerce me into anything, I wanted that. And honestly I’m glad you did too, because I was worried I was going to scare you away for good when you stopped,” Ashton grins, leaning back towards Luke with a pleased smile. 

“Wait, what?” Luke says again, head falling back to create some more space between him and Ashton. 

“What’s so hard to understand,” Ashton laughs, rolling his eyes playfully. “I like spending time with you. I like being around you. You make me happy. I wanted to kiss you. Plain as that.” 

“Oh,” Luke breathes, chills running down his spine as Ashton’s hand finds his chest again, pressing just to the side of heart. 

“Can I kiss you again then?” Ashton asks, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “You won’t freak out this time?” 

“Fuck off,” Luke says, leaning up to catch Ashton, hand falling to the back of his neck easily. 

Ashton hums into the kiss, caught somewhere between a moan and a laugh that gets swallowed down by Luke’s insistent tongue. He falls down against Luke’s chest again, perfectly toeing the line between hovering over him and laying across his body, leg slotted between Luke’s thighs as they adjust from exchanging lazy kisses to something a little more purposeful. 

Somehow this, much like everything else for Luke and Ashton, just comes naturally. There aren't many awkward learning moments, nothing that either one of them is doing wrong given their years of experience. But at the same time, there’s a giddy excitement bouncing between them, like they’re high schoolers making out for the first time hidden in the back seat of a car where they hope their parents won’t find them. 

It’s familiar, likely from how much time they’ve spent pressed up against each other in a friendly way over the past few months, but still has that hint of something new that has them chasing down each other’s lips in an age-old game of give at take. 

Luke lets out a little moan, just somewhere in the back of his throat where it almost comes off as more of a grumble than anything else. But that little moan has Ashton pushing away, scrambling to put a little bit of distance between them. 

“No, don’t,” he pants with a panicked look in his eye. He looks downright terrified as he leans back on his thighs.

“Are you alright?” Luke asks, wide eyed as he regulates his breathing. 

“We can’t do anything more than… Only kissing. Just kissing please.” 

The slight worry painted across Ashton’s face has Luke’s heart turning in his chest, stomach finding its way up his throat at the notion that he’s the one who’s causing Ashton this pain. It’s another new look that Luke isn’t familiar with, one that had to come out eventually, between the sorrow and the despair and the pure unrestrained happiness that he’s come to know from Ashton over the years of their friendship. It was only a matter of time before he got to know the other sides of his emotions. 

“Of course,” Luke promises, laying a hand on Ashton’s shoulder over the space between them. “I’m so sorry if that’s what you thought was happening, I just. I’m a noisy kisser?” Luke says, cheeks tinting red. It’s never something he’s worried about before. Partners never complained about the pleased sounds that accompanied even casual kisses before, but there’s a first time for everything. 

Ashton just bursts out laughing. 

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, that was just cute,” Ashton says once he catches the embarrassment across Luke’s face. “You don’t have to stop, I’m just not used to that I guess. I’ve never, uh, I’ve never kissed someone who did that.” 

“Not helping me feel less self conscious,” Luke mutters, running a hand through his hair. He’d like to not think about Ashton’s ex as they’re kissing, pushing that thought out the door and twisting the lock behind it.  

Shaking his head, Ashton leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth. “Don’t be, it’s cute now that I don’t have to worry about this leading to something I’m not ready for.” 

“Just kisses,” Luke says, ignoring the way that his heart thumps unevenly at the statement. Something doesn’t feel quite right about it, but it’s hard to think more about that when Ashton is closing in on him again. 

It’s a problem for another day. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Ashton: was listening to a random playlist on spotify and heard a song you might like, remind me to show you later

Luke: that’s cute

Ashton: your cute 

Luke: 🥺

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

As a concept, Luke doesn’t do confrontations. 

He doesn’t go out of his way to talk about big issues that aren’t presented to him on a silver platter, waiting for him to take a bite out of it and open the floodgates. He’s much happier to let things simmer as long as they need to, potentially building up into a bigger issue than necessary, but it saves him from having to actively think about dealing with the consequences of his actions. 

That includes dealing with the ever evolving situation that is him and Ashton. 

Situation makes it seem like it’s a bigger issue than it really is, something that needs to be dealt with and smothered until it’s no longer gaining fuel. But really, he doesn’t want the situation to be dealt with, because whatever the hell is happening right now is more than enough to satisfy him for a while. 

Hanging out at Ashton’s house at night is now an everyday thing, personal space be damned. Weekends are spent together too, not really doing much of anything other than hanging out, running errands, dealing with things around Ashton’s house. It’s easy to get comfortable with how things are working out. 

The only thing that’s added to their dynamic is kissing. And maybe a little bit of sappy thinking, at least from Luke, but that’s almost irrelevant. 

But even when things are easy and panning out in a way that seems to make them both happy, there’s something nagging Luke about their lack of conversation regarding just whatever is happening between them. 

He’s fine with whatever it is, friends with benefits, just friends with some kissing, maybe nearly a relationship, whatever. It’s Ashton’s decision in the end, since he’s the one that likely will be impacted the most from the change in title. Luke is just along for the ride. 

They don’t talk about it though. They spend every night wrapped up together on Ashton’s couch, a blanket thrown over their laps while they’re so intertwined that it’s nearly impossible to figure out whose limbs belong to whom. They watch TV or a movie, trading lazy kisses and whispered words between them until it’s finally time for Luke to head home for the night. 

It’s a recurring pattern, comfortable and predictable. 

Luke has his head on Ashton’s lap, letting him card his fingers through Luke’s blond curls as some Netflix game show plays in the background. The early summer breeze floats through the open window, bringing along the sounds of crickets and faraway fireworks as Ashton tells Luke about his plans for the fall orientation program that he and Calum have been working on. 

Luke’s phone vibrates against his arm, face down on the edge of the couch. He flips it over to read the text that popped up on the screen, holding the phone above his head. 

Calum: Ashton told me. 

Luke narrows his eyes, looking just around the corner of his phone to Ashton’s face above him. He has his hazel eyes trained on the TV, stubble poking out across his chin with a content look drawn across his face. 

Luke: what do you mean? 

Calum: He told me you’re not strictly just friends. Glad to know you always tell me the truth. 

And well isn’t that a surprise. Calum’s attitude isn’t surprising; Luke knows he would be exactly the same if the roles were reversed. The real surprise is Ashton saying something to him when they haven’t even discussed whatever it is that’s happening between them. 

“Hey,” Luke says, drawing Ashton’s attention from the show to him. “Did you tell Calum about us?” 

There’s a second where confusion flashes across Ashton’s face, but it’s gone out the window with the next gentle breeze. “Yeah, why?” 

Luke sits up, needing to face Ashton head on for this. They’ve gotten to the point where they just can’t keep acting as if everything is normal and there isn’t a need for a real conversation. They’re both full adults, they should know better than to just assume things. 

“What did you tell him?” Luke says, trying to keep the rough edge out of his voice that wants to crawl in. 

“I told him that we’ve been messing around lately, is that an issue?” Ashton replies, arching an eyebrow. 

“Messing around?” Luke questions. Messing around makes it seem like they’re teenagers just beginning to find out what they want in the world rather than grown adults with jobs and lives. There’s something so childish about messing around, something that doesn’t feel right as a label for whatever it is that he’s feeling. 

“Well I don’t know, what am I supposed to call it?” 

Luke shrugs. “I think we need to figure that out.” 

Ashton groans, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Do we though? Why can’t we just let it keep going the way it has been? Things have been great, right?” 

Things have been great, a little too great honestly. It’s been easy, naturally flowing and enjoyable for the past week or so of their development. Things can continue to be easy and relaxed after they’ve talked it through.

“Messing around though? Doesn’t that feel a bit, I don’t know, childish?” Luke asks. 

“Is friends with benefits better?”

“No, not really,” Luke says, lacing his fingers together as means of distraction. Friends with benefits makes it sound like there’s no feelings involved outside of their normal friendly interactions, which isn’t what this is for Luke. 

It hits him then. Just because this is more than just friendly for Luke doesn’t mean that it’s the same for Ashton. Attraction doesn’t always result in emotional connections, so this could just be Ashton looking to get something from him, something that he’s been missing out on since he’s been out of a relationship.

How embarrassing, Luke thinks, biting on his lip. He’s been assuming this was a mutual interest, but it’s just another situation where talking things through would have eliminated any chance for confusion and hurt feelings right from the beginning. 

“Hey,” Ashton says, grabbing one of Luke’s hands between his. “Out of your head, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Luke lies, offering a weak smile. 

Ashton snorts out an unamused laugh. “Okay, yeah right, I know you better than that.” 

Do you really though? Luke wonders inside his head. 

“It’s fine,” Luke affirms, pushing curls from his eyes with the hand not captured by Ashton. 

“Luke,” Ashton says with a pout, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Just tell me what’s up.” 

“It’s just…” Luke trails off, trying to choose his words wisely. Never once in the months since he and Ashton have gotten closer has he had to overthink his next move so much. It's an effort that feels foreign, unnatural in the ebb and flow of their relationship. “Are there feelings here or am I just something for you to use and dispose of when you’re bored?” 

Ashton reels back, letting Luke’s hand fall from between his. He blinks in surprise, mouth opening and closing as he too tries to come up with a proper response. “Is that what you think this is?” 

Groaning in frustration, Luke shrugs. “I don’t know what this is, honestly. I don’t really want it to just be physical and that’s it, but I get it if that’s what you want.” 

There’s a long pause where the TV is the only sound, harmonizing with the fluttering wind outside as it caresses the house. The silence makes Luke uncomfortable in his skin, itching to break away from the tension and return to the place where it was easy and calm, regretting he ever even started this conversation. 

“I don’t think I can be in a relationship right now,” Ashton says quietly, barely a whisper of a confession. “And…” he pauses, licking his lips. “It’s not that I don’t want to be. I mean, if I was ready for it, I would want it to be with you, if that’s what you wanted too. I just… I don’t think I can label this as anything right now.” 

The vulnerability and sincerity in Ashton’s eyes is almost overwhelming. Somehow it still catches Luke by surprise, how open and trusting Ashton has become with him over the months. There really aren't any secrets between them, or at least there shouldn’t be, something that settles Luke’s heart. He can show his cards and not worry about Ashton using it to cheat him out of winning the game, because Ashton is showing his hand too. 

“I respect that, I don’t want you doing anything that you’re not ready for, especially just for me.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to-” Ashton starts again, but Luke cuts him off with a hand on his thigh. 

“It’s okay, honestly, I get it.” He inhales, preparing to hand over a little piece of himself to Ashton for safe keeping. “I was just worried that I was more invested in this than you are. I’ve really, really enjoyed getting to know you more and I think there’s something else here for me, but I’m also really, really terrified of this.” 

“Why?” Ashton asks, not a lick of judgment in his gaze. 

“I need you to tell me that I’m not just a rebound,” Luke says quietly, looking at his hand on Ashton’s leg. “You’ve been through so much and I get that’s why you’re not ready to label anything or be in a relationship, but there’s still a little part of me that thinks I’m just a victim of opportunity and the second someone better comes around, you’re going to drop me for them.” 

Luke’s throat betrays him, cracking a little at the end of his declaration, though he coughs to clear the emotion from his voice. It’s more than he had intended on saying, but Ashton deserves the truth, and Luke himself deserves not to be led on. 

“You’re not a rebound,” Ashton says fiercely, drawing Luke’s eyes back to his face as he shakes his head. “I promise that. I’m not gonna sit here and say that we’re going to be together forever in any sense of the word, because that would be foolish given my… history. But this isn’t just a rebound until I find someone else. I really like spending time with you and like, we can be exclusive without a label?” 

“Exclusive without a label,” Luke parrots, a tiny smile breaking across his lips, pulling out his deep right dimple. The words contradict each other, exclusivity without the title that comes along with being exclusive, but oddly, Luke understands what he means. 

He always seems to just understand what Ashton is trying to say. 

“That sounds good to me,” Luke confirms, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Ashton’s lips. 

“You sure?” Ashton mumbles against his kiss, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip lightly. 

“Yes. It’s you and me, but we’ll see how it goes organically.” 

“Thank you,” Ashton says, wrapping his arm around Luke’s shoulder to pull him back to his chest. 

But before he gets too comfortable and forgets the cause of this conversation, Luke grabs his phone to reply to Calum. 

Luke: sorry. I wasn’t trying to lie. I just thought Ashton should know about how I felt before I talked to you about it

Calum: Just don’t hurt him. 

And as Luke finds safety under Ashton’s arm, he couldn’t imagine a world where he could ever hurt him. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“We really need to do something other than just watch TV on the couch,” Ashton says one evening as they wrap up their third episode of Criminal Minds . 

“But cuddling,” Luke groans, pressing his face into Ashton’s neck. “Why do other things when cuddling is on the table?” 

“Because we’re becoming apathetic about the world around us. 

“Speak for yourself, I spend all day walking dogs.” 

“You spend all day petting dogs and giving their owners advice on how to handle them.” 

“Same thing,” Luke says with an eye roll. 

Ashton only shakes his head, clicking pause on the TV remote. 

It’s not that Ashton is wrong either; they do spend most of their nights doing absolutely nothing other than talking. It’s kind of nice though, because then Luke goes back to his apartment and gets to enjoy the silence of no one around him before he goes to bed, therefore waking up rested and ready to spend another day interacting with others in the real world. It’s a wonderful pattern they’ve created here. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Ashton says, pushing the blanket off their laps, earning another groan from Luke. 

“It’s hot.” 

“It’s 68 degrees, that’s hardly hot. Stop whining, it’ll be good for both of us.” 

Electing not to waste more energy complaining, Luke pouts as he lets Ashton pull him up off the couch with an exaggerated groan. They lace up their shoes in silence and Ashton locks the front door as they leave. 

The neighborhood is quiet, other than a few random screams from kids playing in their backyards as the sun begins to set. Ashton was right, it’s not hot at all, but instead a pleasant kind of warm that kisses their skin as they begin to walk down the sidewalk. Every lawn is lined with large trees, shading them from the colors of the sunset, though they still break through the patches in the branches. 

Each house on Ashton’s street looks fairly similar to the rest, all two story family homes with wide driveways and neatly cared for front yards. Some have lights on inside, indicating their owners are home, while others are dark, people off living their lives outside of their houses. It’s one of those times where it’s easy to get caught up thinking about how everyone else is living at the same time as you, and you can never meet every person there is to know. 

Everyone has their own independent life. 

Before he started spending so much time with Ashton, Luke would have never even come in contact with any of the people in this neighborhood. He’s come to be friendly with the Stewart family next door, now waving when he sees them outside with their daughter. At first he was worried that they might judge or question what he’s doing around so often, but they simply offer pleasant smiles and well wishes each time they come in contact. There’s a house down the street that owns a Yorkie that always yips happily when anyone passes by their front lawn, eager to greet everyone with a kiss on the hand. 

The list goes on and on, Luke thinks, as they walk quietly down towards the end of the street. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Ashton asks, lightly bumping into Luke to punctuate his sentence. 

“Just thinking about how everyone lives different lives.” 

Ashton laughs, echoing off the empty pavement. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

“I just mean that everyone is existing in their own worlds, doing things everyday that we will never know about. I didn’t know what you did day to day before I started spending time with you.” 

“To be fair, this isn’t what I used to do day to day,” Ashton says softly, accompanied by a nostalgic yet sad smile. 

“What did you do everyday?” Luke asks, though he’s unsure that this is the conversation they should be having while they’re walking. 

They don’t talk much about the breakup anymore, especially not since their own relationship has morphed into something new. Ashton’s sadness is less frequent and far less intense, often only coming to the surface when he’s overworked or just plain exhausted. Sometimes it’s almost as if there was never a breakup at all. 

“Well I got up, made coffee, did yoga outside if the weather allowed, drove to work with… him, came home, made dinner, and tried to do something at night that stimulated my brain.” 

“Thanks, you told me the parts I already knew,” Luke says sarcastically. 

“Fuck off,” Ashton retorts. “I don’t know, I would read, or make art, or clean up around the house, or this, go for a walk.” 

Luke hums in acknowledgment. He can barely even think about what he used to do before he started spending his time with Ashton. Nights all bled into one another, becoming giant globs of days that had no meaning. He lived, but looking back now, it doesn’t feel like he was actually living. 

“We should start doing more actual things,” Luke says, kicking a rock with his scuffed up converse. 

“Meaning?” Ashton asks. 

“Like go places. Do things. Explore a little. We act like we’re stuck at home each night.” 

Ashton pauses. “Like go on dates?” 

Even though that’s not what Luke was intending it to sound like, that’s exactly what he means, deep down. It doesn’t have to be labeled as a date, especially not until Ashton is ready for that, but going out in public together as more than just friends feels like something they’re missing out on, all holed up at Ashton’s house doing a whole lot of nothing. 

“No labels,” Luke says teasingly, swallowing down the want to just say yes. 

“We can go places,” Ashton agrees, surprising Luke by reaching between them to grab hold of his left hand. 

Ashton’s fingers intertwine with Luke’s, enveloping them in warmth that spreads through his fingertips and up his forearm. Their hands swing between them with each step they take, air seeping through the little slivers of space where their palms don’t quite meet. 

It tethers them together as they circle around back towards the house, keeping either one of them from straying too far from the path. They walk together in perfect harmony, feet tapping with every step as the crickets and birds sing along with them. The setting sun bathes their faces in a pink gold glow, illuminating the high points of Ashton’s face in a way that has him glittering, drawing every last bit of Luke’s attention. 

As if there was anyone else that should be capturing his stare. 

The hold Ashton has on Luke continues well into the darkness of the night, enchanting him even as they’re sitting on the couch with the lights dimmed, hands still intertwined above the blanket they’re sharing. There’s a whistling breath that starts from Ashton’s lips when he’s getting tired, too exhausted to keep his mouth shut when the late hours start to creep in. 

It’s always Luke’s sign to leave, where they both separate and live their own lives for a few hours before they exist as a pair in the daylight again. 

“I’m gonna head out,” Luke says quietly, wiggling out from Ashton’s hold with a kiss to his cheek. 

“Nooo,” Ashton groans groggily, reaching for Luke’s shoulders as he slides to the edge of the couch. 

“You’re falling asleep,” Luke laughs, patting Ashton’s calf through the blanket. “It’s time for bed.” 

“Stay,” Ashton says, just a whisper louder than the sound of cotton against cotton as Luke moves. 

Stay. The one thing they both have been dancing around for a while. There’s been nights where Ashton has come close to offering, Luke knows it, because he’ll bite his tongue and smile sheepishly as he says goodnight, always looking like he’s about to open his mouth and ask. But he never does, and Luke would never ask either, so it has always remained unsaid. 

Until now. 

“Stay?” Luke questions, facing towards the TV, afraid that if he turns to look at Ashton, it will all have been a figment of his imagination.

“Stay,” Ashton repeats again, moving forward to wrap an arm around Luke’s stomach. “Stay here tonight.” 

“Okay,” Luke breathes, as if there was ever a thought in his mind to say no. 

They lock up the door in silence, hitting all the lights before tiptoeing up the stairs. They still creek under their weight, small groans from the effort it takes to hold them up. Ashton heads into his room while Luke uses the hall bathroom, giving Ashton a nod of thanks when he returns with a pair of pajama bottoms for him to wear with his t-shirt. 

When he’s finished getting ready for bed, Luke leans on the threshold of Ashton’s room, smiling to himself at the sight of Ashton bopping his head to a song that no one else can hear as he brushes his teeth. It’s charming and so utterly Ashton that the image nestles into Luke’s heart for safe keeping. 

Once Ashton catches sight of Luke, he grins around his toothbrush and offers a small wave. 

“Just wanted to say goodnight,” Luke says, resting his head on the doorframe. 

Ashton narrows his eyes in confusion, attempting to say something around his toothbrush that comes out as nothing more than a garbled collection of sounds. Luke laughs at his frustration as he holds up a finger and returns to the master bathroom. 

The light blue they’d painted the bedroom weeks ago emits a calming energy, much nicer than the dull beige that it had been before. Luke scans the room as he waits, not often privy to the inside of Ashton’s bedroom. His dirty laundry lays across the floor just off to the side of the hamper, the closet door open with shoes spilling out from the bottom. His cologne sits on the dresser alongside a frame, now holding a picture of Ashton and his family rather than the photo that used to be there. 

It’s a room that feels more like Ashton than it did before, one that he can confidently say is his rather than one that he shares with another person. It’s still strange to imagine someone else living in this room, even in its previous state, often hidden behind a closed door. A portion of Ashton’s life that Luke never got to know. 

“Where are you going?” Ashton asks once he’s stepped foot back into the room. 

“To the guest room?” Luke says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Ashton says quietly, looking down at the duvet as he starts to roll it back from the pillows. 

“Is that alright?” Luke asks, confused by Ashton’s sudden aversion to looking him in the eye. 

Ashton mumbles something that gets lost in the ruffling of the blankets before he sits on the edge of the bed, shooting Luke a halfhearted smile. “I missed what you said,” Luke says, tilting his head to the side.

“I just thought… Yeah, that’s fine,” Ashton says as he picks at the skin around his pinkie. 

“Ashton,” Luke says with a frustrated undertone. It’s too late to be playing mind games like this, not when all Luke wants to do is fall into a soft bed. 

“I thought you would sleep here,” Ashton finally says, shrugging once. “It’s fine, the guest bed is all made up.” 

Sleeping in Ashton’s bed was never even a blip on Luke’s radar. 

It’s Ashton’s bed, and even before that, it was Ashton’s bed that he slept in with another man. The idea of taking his spot on the mattress is unsettling, somehow wrong despite it having been many long months since he’d set foot in this room. Even without the claim in the form of his clothes and personal effects, it still feels like the room somehow belongs to him. 

Ashton takes Luke’s hesitance as a rejection. 

“It’s fine, I was assuming things that I shouldn’t. Go get some rest,” Ashton says, lips pressed into a flat line with his distaste. 

“Are you sure you want me to stay here?” Luke questions, taking a small step into the room. Somehow from the inside, the weight of the moment seems less all consuming. 

“I’d like it if you would, but I get if that’s a crossed line.” 

Luke takes a few hesitant steps forward, circling around the bed until he’s standing by the open side. It calls for him to get in and make himself cozy beneath the gray duvet, to cocoon himself in the cotton and melt into the pillow. 

Ashton takes the opportunity to get up and shut the door, flicking the lightswitch so the only light comes from his bedside lamp, bathing the room in a dim yellow glow. He sits back on the bed, pulling his legs up and under the covers as he sits against the headboard. He pulls back the corner of the blanket and taps the mattress, welcoming Luke in. 

Gingerly, Luke sits on the bed and copies Ashton, sliding his feet beneath the blankets as he drops his phone on the end table. They both sit in tense silence for a minute. 

“You’re making this weird,” Ashton teasingly accuses Luke.

“It is kinda weird,” Luke replies, facing towards Ashton. 

“You can go to the guest room if you want,” Ashton assures, warm moss eyes offering nothing but support. 

Luke shakes his head. “No, I’m happy to be right here if this is where you want me.” 

Ashton slides down in the bed, resting his head against the pillow as Luke does the same. The lights flick off, leaving them in mostly darkness other than the filtered light from the streetlamps through the slits where the curtains don’t hug the wall. It’s quiet, central air blowing through the vents offering a bit of ambient noise. 

It’s hard to make out any of Ashton’s features in the dark, hidden by the shadows that eat them up. Luke traces the curves of his cheeks, down along the slope of his jaw and over to where he knows his lips live, if only certain from the time he’s spent mapping Ashton’s face with his eyes and lips. His suspicions are confirmed when Ashton pulls out a toothy smile. 

“It’s nice having you here,” he whispers, even though there’s no one else in the house that would be disturbed by speaking at a normal volume. 

“Yeah?” Luke says, shifting closer to Ashton. 

“It always feels more like home when you’re here, so having you here here is extra nice,” he says, yawning at the end. 

“What time do you have to go to work?” Luke asks, realizing that he doesn’t really know that part of Ashton’s schedule. Nothing really has mattered before 5 pm. 

“Gotta leave at 8.” 

The clock on the dresser across the room blinks just before midnight. 

“Lu?” Ashton says sleepily, batting his eyelashes in the darkness. 

Luke hums in acknowledgment. 

“Thank you for staying. Now and every time for the past few months.” 

Luke doesn’t reply, opting to push himself forward into Ashton’s space, sliding until he can comfortably put his head in the crook under Ashton’s chin. Ashton’s arms come around Luke’s body, holding him close as his chest deflates, a sigh with a loaded meaning drifting into the air.  

Ashton’s soft snores hit Luke’s ears as he’s starting to drift to sleep, offering the sweetest lullaby that he’s ever heard. It’s comfortable and calming, surrounding him in a warmth that he’s never felt before. There’s something there, but Luke won’t even begin to try to label it as he slowly falls asleep.

And in the morning, Luke wakes up well rested to the scent of coffee downstairs and wonders if this is something he could get used to. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It’s a normal Tuesday. 

Tuesday is Luke’s favorite day of the week because he gets to see two of his favorite dogs, Koda and Symba, which makes his job so much easier than it already is. How can life be all that bad when he gets to train adorable dogs all day long? 

And like every other night for the past four months, once he’s done with the dogs and he’s gone home to shower off any dog smell that seems to follow him everywhere, he goes to Ashton’s house for dinner and whatever else they’re going to get up to that night. 

Luke even packs an overnight bag to leave in the car, just in case. 

Nothing seems out of place as he hops up the steps to the front door, knocking once before letting himself in. The hall light is on, Ashton’s keys are on their hook, and his shoes are by the entryway table. Luke adds his keys to the collection, along with his sneakers, and heads off down the hall, looking for Ashton. 

The kitchen is empty. So is the living room. Luke frowns as he starts up the stairs, suddenly aware of how quiet it is in the house. “Ash?” he calls once he’s partially upstairs, catching sight of the warm yellow glow from Ashton’s bedroom. 

The floorboards creak as he steps towards the threshold, leaning on the door frame with a small smile as he sees Ashton sitting on the edge of his bed. “Hey,” Luke says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Missed you.” 

Ashton lifts his head to meet Luke’s eyes and that’s when Luke knows something is wrong. 

His cheeks are splotchy with tear tracks still carving their way down his face. His eyes are red rimmed and raw, only getting more and more agitated as Ashton wipes at them with the heel of his palm. His phone lays next to him on the bed, open to something that Luke can’t see from here as it moves with every jagged inhale Ashton takes. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Luke says, starting into the room. He sits next to Ashton on the bed, eyes narrowing slightly when Ashton snatches the phone off the mattress and clicks it locked. “Are you okay?” 

Ashton chokes out a broken sob, sounding something like an abandoned attempt at a laugh through his tears. “I need to tell you something,” he coughs, sniffling as he turns to face Luke with a look of pain mixed with something a little hopeful. 

Luke doesn’t say a word, opting just to grab Ashton’s shaking hands in his own. 

That seems to set off Ashton again as he tilts his head towards the ceiling and breathes out a sigh, biting on his lip. Worry bubbles in Luke’s stomach, churning away with every second that passes. 

“Spencer came to my office today.” 

And that’s it. The ground drops out from below them, sending Luke into a downward spiral without a single warning. He can see the end on the horizon, coming into view faster than he’s ready to admit. 

“Oh,” Luke gulps, removing his hands from Ashton’s. “What’d he say?” 

Nothing would ever prepare him for the next words out of Ashton’s mouth. 

“He made a mistake. He said he still loves me and he wants to come back home.” 

It’s the slight twinge of happiness in his words that truly shatters Luke’s heart, splintering pieces of glass flying around the room with the force of the blow. You aren’t together , his brain tries to insert, hoping to remind him of the truth before he lets his emotions get the best of him. 

“And you told him yes, right?” 

“Luke,” Ashton says, reaching for his hands with trembling fingers. 

“No, answer me. You told him yes, didn’t you?” 

“It’s not like that,” Ashton begs, ducking his head down to look Luke in the eyes. “I said I needed time.” 

“Time,” Luke laughs humorlessly. “Time, like the time it took you to get over him. But I guess you really didn’t get over him, right? Because if you were over him, then you wouldn’t have said you needed time to figure it out, it would have been an easy no.” 

“Luke,” Ashton says again, slightly more desperate. “You know that’s not fair.” 

“No, you know what’s not fair? He rejected you, Ash. He said no to your proposal and you’re going to take him back that easily? You were a mess because of him!” 

“I’m not just taking him back. I need time to think everything through,” Ashton nearly whines. The broken edge to his voice gives Luke a sick feeling of accomplishment, knowing this is hurting Ashton just as it’s hurting him. It’s fucked up, after all they’ve been through, for Luke to feel even the slightest bit of pleasure from Ashton’s pain. 

But then it hits him, all at once, just what this actually means. 

“I really was just a rebound.” 

“No, Luke,” Ashton says, panicked, eyes wide as they fill with tears. 

Luke stands up, putting distance between himself and Ashton by pacing around the room in front of the dresser. The dresser that once housed all of Spencer’s clothes, but now has one drawer dedicated to some of Luke’s belongings, things that he’s going to have to bring back to his own apartment now. 

“I was a placeholder until he came back, wasn’t I? I was just the plaything that kept you company until things could go back to the way they were,” Luke scoffs, shaking his head. “Fuck. I should have known better. Why was I so fucking stupid to think that this could work? I really thought that we could possibly have something.” 

Tears have started down Ashton’s face again, quietly falling until they meet their death on the edge of his shirt. “Luke please, you know I care about you.” 

“You care about me but of course you’re going to go back to the guy who gave you some of the best years. It’s fine, I can just be your friend again, it’s easy enough to cast me aside, isn’t it?” Luke turns to face Ashton, taking in the way he looks so genuinely distraught and out of place, small on the edge of his expansive bed. His lip wobbles as he sits, watching Luke with nervous eyes. 

But even in those eyes, there’s still that very small glimmer of love, a love that Luke knows isn’t for him. It’s the shine of a reignited light, one that was almost extinguished, but somehow survived the heaviest of storms and is now ready to glow again brighter than ever. The smoke is enough to have Luke retreating, gasping for clean air. 

“I’m gonna go,” Luke says, shaking his head again as he takes three large steps to the doorway. 

“Luke,” Ashton says again, weakly, all fight drained out of him. 

Chancing a look over his shoulder, Luke peeks back to catch the final look at Ashton’s deflated being, half looking like he’s about to jump up and embrace Luke and half like he wants to hide under the covers and never come out again. But even with the pause, Ashton doesn’t stand up, and that’s answer enough for Luke. 

“I’m glad you’re getting your second chance. Don’t let him get away from you again.” 

Luke slams the door as he leaves. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Luke’s apartment doesn’t feel like home. 

The walls don’t offer the same comfort that they did before, the couch isn’t shaped around his body, the pressure in the shower just doesn’t feel right. 

Nothing feels right. 

It’s a bit pathetic, maybe, that Luke is this broken up over something that wasn’t even labeled. Ashton wasn’t his boyfriend, wasn’t a lover or a partner, but just a friend. A friend with an exclusive title that only he could acquire, one that doesn’t exist and means everything all at the same time. 

Even though his heart is missing from his chest and his eyes sting, he hasn’t cried; that’s the only piece of dignity that he can hold onto. He isn’t crying over something that wasn’t even real. 

Saying it wasn’t real diminishes the value that it holds in his mind though, makes it seem like it was irrelevant and a fleeting moment that they just couldn’t hold onto. It was so incredibly real, more real than anything Luke had ever experienced in his lifetime. He’s been with enough people before, had enough short relationships that burned bright and exploded hard, but there has never been a single one that compares to the ache deep in his chest at this loss. 

He longs to call his friends for support right now, wishing that they wouldn’t be caught right in the middle once again. Hell, he’d barely even had a chance to tell Michael what was going on, with only a month and some change under their belt in the weird limbo that they danced in. Ashton was so much luckier when he was first left behind, because all he had to do was make one tattered phone call to Calum and all three of them came running. 

Now it’s been nearly twenty four hours and he hasn’t been able to send a single text to ask for help. 

And even though the pain in his chest is a struck match away from exploding, he won’t wallow. 

He just can’t. He’s not hiding himself in bed, not sitting in a darkened room, not keeping the curtains drawn. Luke has to pretend that everything is okay or else he’ll crumble. 

He can’t crumble. 

Because how can you break apart from an imaginary punch? None of it was real, not a single second. There always had to be a part of Ashton that hoped and prayed that Spencer would come back, beg for his forgiveness and swear up and down that he would never hurt him again. Even though his scabs may have healed, they weren’t fully scarred yet, still easy to rip open to let him back into Ashton’s bloodstream. 

It just sucks that after all the time that Luke spent by Ashton’s side, picking up the pieces that Spencer had broken and trying to find new ones that fit into the holes, all his work is going to be reversed. Spencer is going to come back with the pieces that he stole from Ashton and put them right back into place, sealing up the edges like he never even took them in the first place. 

And as distraught and beaten as Luke is, he can’t even blame Ashton for a minute. 

That man held six years of Ashton’s life in his hands, six glorious years filled with growth and love and development that no one could ever compare to. He’d been by Ashton’s side in the early years of moving out, becoming an adult, finding himself. They’d grown up together in a way that is so foundational, just at the ground where all the bricks can be built into a skyscraper. 

How can Luke ever expect that Ashton would choose him over that? 

Luke’s phone rings by his side, interrupting the mindless stare he had on the TV as it played the previews for a Netflix original. When did it become the previews? Wasn’t he just watching a show? 

He’s losing his mind. 

It’s Michael’s face filling the screen with a horrible picture that has one of his nostrils taking up the majority of the space, the rest covered by skin and a tiny fleck of his green eye. The familiar sight brings a small smile to Luke’s face for the first time in a full day as he slides to accept the call. 

“Hey,” he says, coughing once he realizes how horribly raspy his throat is from not talking. 

“Thank god,” Michael says under his breath. “Hey, are you home?” he says at a more normal level. 

“Yeah, no dogs today.” No one has to know that he canceled all his sessions today, because even though he wasn’t going to wallow, he also couldn’t be bothered with being an actual human. 

“Okay, let me in.” 

Luke frowns. “Are you here?” 

The knock at the door answers his question. 

Luke looks down at his outfit, plaid pajama pants that he got for Christmas and a threadbare t-shirt with his college’s mascot on it. Not exactly the kind of outfit that will convince Michael that he’s a totally fine functional member of society. 

He opens the door anyway, greeted with a stressed out looking Michael holding a grocery bag. “Hey?” Luke says, tilting his head to the side. 

Michael just pushes through the door, walking directly into Luke’s kitchen without a word. 

“Hi to you too,” Luke mumbles, following behind him with his bare feet tapping against the tile. 

“Frozen pizza, popcorn, m&ms, and lemonade,” Michael lists off as he puts things in their places, sliding the bag of m&ms across the counter to Luke. 

Luke scrunches up his nose at the thought of eating, stomach flipping unhappily in his body. “No offense, but why are you here?” Luke asks, pushing the bag away from him. 

Michael looks at Luke with a blank stare, trailing his eyes across his face and down his body as if he’s checking for damage. “Calum called me.” 

Luke groans, running his hands down his face as he leaves the kitchen to sit on the couch. It’s not quite as comfortable as the lounge in Ashton’s living room. “Of course he did.” 

He can’t see it, but he hears Michael close the fridge and walk over to the couch, taking a seat next to Luke. Maybe if he keeps his hands over his face, Michael will become a figment of his imagination and he won’t have to worry about having the conversation that is inevitable. 

“Are you okay?” Michael asks, sounding more concerned than Luke has ever heard him sound before. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Luke says behind his hands, warm breath fanning back against his face. Gross. 

“Luke,” Michael says, slightly scolding him as he gently tugs Luke’s wrists away from his face. 

His face is drenched in uncertainty, worry, and something like disappointment, all swirling around in his emerald eyes. Concern is a strange look on Michael indeed. Even when he was consoling Ashton post break up, he was more angry than anything else. This is almost a pitiful look. 

“Are you okay?” he asks again, keeping hold on Luke’s wrists between warm fingers. 

Luke sighs. “I’m okay.” 

Michael frowns, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not, so why don’t you stop lying to me?” 

“I am okay though,” Luke says. Maybe if he says it with enough conviction, he too will believe the words spilling from his mouth. 

“I heard about what happened.”

Luke scoffs. “What happened,” he says, void of all emotions. “Nothing happened.” 

“Luke,” Michael starts to say, but he’s cut off. 

“No, literally, nothing happened. We didn’t have a title, we weren’t together, so therefore nothing happened. I’m glad that Spencer,” Luke chokes a little on his name, “is coming back. They deserve happiness.” 

Every fiber of Luke’s being wishes he believed the words coming out of his own mouth. He aches to just be happy for Ashton, not longing for his soft touch and gentle words. He doesn’t want to be craving the sound of his teasing laughter as he pokes fun at Luke for something trivial. He desperately wants to forget what it feels like to wake up in Ashton’s bed on a Sunday morning, knowing that when he goes downstairs, he’ll be greeted with a kiss and a cup of coffee before he even has the chance to say a single word. 

He wants to wish the best for Ashton. He just can’t yet. 

He needs time. 

Michael studies the way that Luke breathes, watching him closely as he bites his lip. “You loved him huh?” 

Luke inhales sharply, coughing when the air hits his dry throat. Michael’s words drip with certainty, sure that he’s making the right assumption on the feeling in Luke’s chest. 

But he’s not. Luke doesn’t love him, it’s just not possible. He can’t love someone that he wasn’t even in a relationship with, no matter how much time he’d spent with him. Sure, he can miss the way that Ashton looked at him like he was made of sapphire, glittering in the sunshine. He can wish for the nights they spent tangled up on the couch, early into their time as friends, when things were a little tense and Ashton was a lot broken, but Luke was always there to hold the pieces together. He can reach for the memories of laughter in the kitchen, tears on the living room floor, secrets left up and down Ashton’s street, fondness painted on the bedroom walls. 

He doesn’t love Ashton. He loves pieces of him, sure. How can’t you love the part of someone who cares for others with such a strong heart? Someone who would gladly bottle up his emotions to make sure that someone else was okay? Someone funny, and kind, and witty, and talented, and loving, and beautiful inside and out. 

Someone whose texts make you smile everyday. Who hears songs that make them think of you and just has to let you know. Who remembers the little parts of your day to day life and makes you feel heard for the first time in a long time. Who recites parts of TV shows that he’s watched a million times but keeps watching because they make him feel safe. Who curls up into as small of a ball as he can when he’s hurting, as if he can hold the pain inside and everything would be okay.

Someone who changes your life in such a short amount of time. 

“Fuck,” Luke says softly, eyes wide as he runs his hands up the side of his face, leaning forward onto his knees once he’s got a strong hold on his head, knowing that it won’t roll off and away from him. 

He looks at Michael. There isn’t a shred of judgment on his face, only empathy. 

“Fuck,” he says again, sucking a deep breath of air into his lungs. “Fuck, I love him.” 

Michael nods sadly. “I know you do. So let me ask again, are you okay?” 

Luke runs through his body. His heart aches like a part of it has been ripped out and stomped on. His hands shake like he’s filled with energy that can’t find its way out. His legs are lead, stuck in one place and destined never to move again. His brain is somehow empty, carved completely clean of any thought that isn’t “ I love Ashton.”  His tongue is too large for his mouth, keeping all words trapped inside his throat and begging to get out. 

He’s not okay. 

Michael recognizes that thought the second that it comes up, scooching forward to catch Luke as he tips over on the couch, tears finally beginning to form in his eyes. “It’s okay,” Michael whispers, clutching Luke as tightly as he can. “It’s alright, let it out.” 

And boy does he let it out. 

Every last agony soaked tear is shed, some for himself and some for the bottled up pain that he’d taken from Ashton when he sucked the venom out of his poisoned wound. Some of his choked hiccups are for the minutes he spent carving a spot for Ashton in his heart while some are for the forgotten laughs that will be immortalized in the tiny streaks in the atmospheric paint on the bedroom walls. A few of his sobs are for a love that was destined to be one sided, and a few are for the memories sopped up by Luke’s t-shirts. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s cried before all the tears are gone, throat raw, eyes bloodshot and face snotty, like the little kid on the playground who just wants his mom. And Michael holds him through it all, rocking him back and forth while whispering that it’s okay, everything will be alright, it will get better. 

If only Luke could believe him. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Thankfully, things do get better for Luke. 

Following his epiphany with Michael, Luke took the opportunity to grieve his loss properly. Even thinking of it as a loss still feels strange, even a week after his last contact with Ashton, but that’s really what this all is. He’s lost a part of himself that, regardless of how new it was, had rooted itself so deeply into his being that he’s not too sure how he’s supposed to find new pieces to fill the hole. 

It’s still hard to figure out how he’s supposed to operate on his own now. Going from spending every single night with Ashton to having to cut off contact cold turkey? The longing to message him, to show up at his house, to just say a single word to him is almost unmanageable, but the ache slowly gets less and less with every passing day. 

He still wants to text Ashton when a dog does something stupid at a training session. He thinks about how much better dinner would be if Ashton was the one making it for him. He knows he’d be sleeping much better if he was warmed by Ashton’s body next to his. 

But he tries not to ruminate on the past. 

Michael and Calum haven’t said a word about Ashton to him. They’re good friends for that (even though Luke did ask Michael once to tell him what’s going on, but Michael refused). They don’t act like anything has changed, don’t belittle him for falling in love with someone who understandably was still in love with someone else, don’t get angry when he doesn’t contribute to a conversation. 

Michael comes over almost every day, often with Moose by his side so he can stay longer than just an hour without feeling guilty for leaving her all alone when Crystal is at work. He makes sure that Luke eats, bathes, gets out of the house if he doesn’t have a client that day. He does all the things that Luke did for Ashton. 

Maybe when that thought sinks in, he cries on the couch again. But that might just be a rumor. No one has to know about it. 

The moral of the story is that he’s doing okay. Not good, not bad, but okay. 

Luke is alone on Saturday night, just over a week after the last time he’s talked to Ashton. Not that he’s counting. Michael offered to cancel his standing date night with Crystal in order to spend time with him, but Luke assured him (more than once) that he’ll be okay on his own for a night. He has shitty romcoms and plenty of popcorn to drown his sorrows in. 

The sun is finally setting through the windows, purple pink skies starting to transform into the midnight blue that will hold him for the night. The view from his fourth floor window is one of the best parts about his apartment. He’s always loved sitting next to the glass with the shades up, watching as the colors shift and bleed across the sky each night. 

He’s just about to pop his second bag of popcorn —a nutritious dinner— when there’s a dull knock at his door. It’s quiet enough where Luke isn’t exactly sure that it actually happened, so he stops, listening for the knock to come again. 

And it does. 

Who possibly would show up at Luke’s door unannounced? Don’t they know it’s rude to show up somewhere without calling first? Everyone has a cell phone these days, it’s not that hard to send a quick text or make a phone call to ask someone if they want to have any guests over and—

Luke pulls open the door without looking through the peephole and is met with a very nervous, very scared looking Ashton Irwin. 

“What-” Luke says, but stops himself short when Ashton meets his eyes. 

Somehow eleven days feels like a lifetime when you’re finally face to face with someone that you’ve been longing for desperately. 

“Hi, Luke,” Ashton says quietly, wringing his hands together. 

“What are you doing here,” Luke says, a little harsher than he meant to if the way Ashton steps back is anything to go by. Good, maybe he deserves it. No he doesn’t, who is Luke kidding. 

“Can we talk?” 

Against his better judgment, Luke steps aside and lets Ashton in, watching the way he carefully walks into the apartment with his head low, not meeting Luke’s eyes once. He kicks off his shoes and turns to face Luke, waiting for his lead on where to go from here. 

Luke walks to the couch, sitting in his corner where his blanket cocoon has been built over the last few hours. He wants to be embarrassed about the state of his living room, but he’s seen Ashton and Ashton’s house in far worse shape, so he pushes that worry out of his brain. 

Ashton clears his throat. “How are you?” 

Is this a trick question? Is there a quiz that Luke didn’t study for, giving him the answers on how he’s supposed to interact with someone that he wants to kiss and push away at the same time? 

“I’m good,” Luke says, swallowing down the bitter taste of his lie. 

“Good,” Ashton says, nodding with his lip trapped between his teeth, picking at the skin on his finger. 

“What are you doing here?” Luke asks again, taking a brief moment to survey Ashton in front of him. 

His hair is freshly washed, face clean shaven and smooth, but he’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, not much different than Luke himself. Actually, the more Luke looks at it, he’s pretty sure Ashton is wearing his shirt, one that he’d left in the drawer in the bedroom last week. He just hadn’t mustered up the courage to go get his left belongings yet. 

He’d think that Ashton was here to drop those things off if it wasn’t for his empty handed arrival. 

“We need to talk,” Ashton says, shifting back against the couch. 

“What more is there to talk about,” Luke replies, frowning at the nervous waves floating off of Ashton, filling the air around them with anxiety and tension that can’t be filtered out. 

“I need to tell you some things but I also need you to promise that you’re not going to interrupt me until I’m done, okay?” Ashton asks. 

“Ashton,” Luke groans. 

“Promise me,” Ashton repeats, pleading eyes begging for Luke to agree. 

Luke nods. 

“Okay,” Ashton starts, breathing out deeply through his mouth. “Okay. I’m starting from the beginning. A week and a half ago, Spencer came to my office at work and asked me for forgiveness.” 

“Ashton,” Luke starts again, but he’s cut off. 

“You promised me, don’t start breaking promises now,” Ashton says, nervously flicking his eyes from Luke to the floor and back. Luke nods and Ashton proceeds. 

“He told me that rejecting the engagement was the biggest mistake of his life. That moving out of our house and leaving me was a huge regret. He said that it took him so long to realize what he was missing because he was so dead set on making it without me, that he didn’t want to accept the fact that I was the best thing for him. He said all that and I told him that I needed to think about it. Because what the fuck was I supposed to say?” Ashton laughs, but it’s bitter and painful. 

“He was fine with that, told me to take as much time as I needed. So I went home and came upstairs to change and was hit by how confusing everything was now. Standing in the middle of the bedroom that I used to share with him that I had been starting to share with you, painted a different color than it used to so it no longer felt like his, but instead felt like yours. Which looking back was unfair of me to do in the first place, that was a lot of pressure on you, I think. But that’s not the point.

“The point is that I was torn. Because here he is, the man that I loved for six years, the one that I pictured spending forever with, the one that I wanted to be by my side always. And there you are, the one that was there for me at every step of my healing, the one that makes me laugh and smile and challenges me everyday and allowed me to be whatever I needed to be while I was working through the shit in my brain. How was I supposed to choose? 

“And then you show up, and I’m a mess, and well. You know what happens then. There’s no need to relive that part. Except for the fact that sitting on my bed, seeing how badly I was hurting you by being unsure killed me. It fucking tore me apart to see the pain in your eyes and the certainty that you were just a rebound even when I told you from the start that you were never a rebound. And let me just say it again, you weren’t a rebound. Luke, you mean so much to me and,” Ashton stops to sniffle, blinking wildly up at the ceiling before he can start again. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry for hurting you. That wasn’t the intention. Maybe I should have waited longer before doing anything with you. But then again, I never in a million years expected him to come back and ask for forgiveness. It caught me so off guard and just flipped my whole world upside down. I needed time. I needed time to think about what I’m supposed to do when I’m faced with two guys, so incredibly different but both so influential on my life in different ways. So I thought. I weighed all the options and made one of those stupid fucking pro vs con charts, even though that helped with nothing other than making my head hurt,” Ashton laughs, once again sore and bitter. 

“And while I was alone in my house thinking about what I wanted to do, do you know what the clearest thought in my head was? That I missed having you on the left side of the couch, teasing me and complimenting me and making me feel important. With all the other noise bouncing around up there, the only voice that I could hear clearly was yours. I heard you telling me how proud you were and how much I had grown, assuring me that it was all going to be okay. And that helped me find my answer.” 

“Ashton,” Luke says, heartbeat bouncing around in his chest, rattling at his rib cage as it tries desperately to break free of its confines. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I told Spencer I don’t want to get back together. I told him that I’ve moved on and I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I told him that we’re done for good.” 

It takes all of Luke’s self control not to dry heave at the sound of the words coming from Ashton’s mouth, words that he never in a million years expected to hear, not from real life Ashton. In his dreams surely, but never when he’s conscious. 

“You’re stupid,” Luke finds himself saying, earning a startled laugh from Ashton. 

“Why am I stupid?” 

“You’re not going to take back the guy that you spent six years with? Ashton, you bought an engagement ring for him! You lived together. You created a life where you work at the same place and got to spend all your time with him and you were happy. You were living a life that most people dream about. Why aren’t you taking him back?” Luke says, aware of just how wobbly his voice is as he speaks. 

“I thought that too. I was so sure that I was happy and living the life that I always wanted, but I don’t think I was. I didn’t know anything other than Spencer, never dated anyone else and never thought about taking a different path in life. I was content to take the easy road and go with what was expected of me. But once I was away from him for long enough, and really, once I was with you, I realized how many things that I was just accepting. Things that I shouldn’t have been giving into. Things that I was getting by being with you.” 

Luke furrows his eyebrows. “Like what?” 

“Like the way that you listened to me, and repeated things back to me later that just showed how much you cared. When you did little acts of service without ever expecting anything in return. You opened your arms to me, literally, and let me find safety with you when I was feeling so off center. You make me feel loved, Luke, in a way that I don’t know if I’ve ever felt before. I can’t remember ever feeling so important. I don’t think I was giving that back to you though, so if you’d take me, I’d show you the same care that you’ve been giving me.” 

Pressing a hand to his mouth, Luke can’t help the sob that breaks through, void of tears but still filled with emotion. It doesn’t feel real. None of this feels like it’s possible. If he pinches himself hard enough, maybe he’ll wake up. 

Luke pinches his forearm, hard, and is met with nothing but a sharp pain. 

“You did make me feel loved and important,” Luke says, reaching his hand across the couch to take Ashton’s. It still trembles as Ashton pays attention, worry drawn across his face. “I woke up everyday basically counting down the minutes until I got to go back to your house, where I felt safe and at home. I wanted nothing less than to spend every evening with you, on your couch or in your backyard or in my car or anywhere, as long as it was with you. And that terrified me, because it was so much so fast, especially with someone that a) had just gotten out of a really long relationship, and b) was a friend that I’ve known for years. I just wanted to do whatever was best for you, because somehow you weasled your way so deep into my heart that I don’t think you could ever come out.” 

Ashton’s eyes are misty again, a thin fog over the forest built tall from oaks and evergreens. But beneath that forest is a tiny smile, one so hopeful, yet reserved, itching to come forward in full force. But there’s still just a little bit left on Luke’s mind. 

“But what happens if we don’t last? I don’t want you to regret not taking the chance to go back to Spencer when you could, just for the possibility that we could work out.” 

Ashton laughs, something a little self-deprecating and thin, but it’s still a relative of the twinkling laugh that Luke has missed so much. “I know things might not work out, I know I’m putting a lot of faith in something that has such potential to break apart easily. I know things might not turn out right, but I just can’t pass up the possibility of seeing if there’s something special here. And if there isn’t, then I hope that we actually can still be friends, because you are so incredibly important to me and I don’t think I could live life without you anymore.” 

“Fuck,” Luke mumbles, surpressing his crooked smile by catching his lip between his teeth. “Are you sure?” 

Ashton leans forward, so close that Luke can taste the lemonade and new beginnings on his tongue. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” 

When Ashton’s lips hit Luke’s, it feels like all of those stolen and missing pieces are clicking back into place. It feels like coming home after a long day and being wrapped up in the coziest blanket the world can offer. It feels like rewatching their favorite comfort TV show, reruns offering a sense of nostalgia coupled with something so damn familiar that it feels like safety. 

It feels like love.