Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4006882.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      5_Seconds_of_Summer_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Luke_Hemmings/Ashton_Irwin
  Character:
      Luke_Hemmings, Ashton_Irwin, Michael_Clifford, Calum_Hood
  Additional Tags:
      Semi-Public_Sex, Blow_Jobs, First_Time_Blow_Jobs, Hand_Jobs, Light_Dom/
      sub, (not_much), First_Meetings, the_purple_shirt, So_much_fringe, Luke
      is_fifteen, Ashton_is_seventeen, Malum_are_Malum
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-25 Words: 6854
****** me and you just singing our song ******
by rory_the_dragon
Summary
     Luke's come a long way from the kid he used to be.
     He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the
     difference.
     And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke
     suddenly feels fifteen and blushing all over again.
     (Or: the one with the very first band practice)
Notes
     Warnings: I took several liberties with the story of 5sos' first band
     practice for this fic, but I promise they're all for the better.
     Calum's here for one thing, which is always a plus. Also Luke is
     ambiguously fifteen in this fic. The smut that occurs between him and
     Ashton is all consensual, but if that's a no for you, I'm just
     warning you now.
     Okay this entire fic is based of a very real headcanon I have of Luke
     and Ashton having been together since the very first practice and
     this is how it went down. Enjoy!
 
Luke's come a long way from the kid he used to be.
The kid he was a year ago, that kid in green fluorescent glasses, would never
have been able to turn on the camera and record himself singing songs for
anyone in the world to see, would never have gone further than mindlessly
strumming his guitar in his bedroom instead of doing his homework. The kid he
was a year ago was too big for his body, too quiet for everything he held
inside his head. Luke, a year ago, wasn’t the same Luke he is today.
Since this whole band thing started, began to gain traction, since Calum and
Michael started to slide into the blurry area between his best friends and his
brothers, since he had reasons to laugh every day and the drive to become has
grown stronger, Luke has settled a little more into himself. Into the person he
thinks he’s supposed to be.
He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the difference.
And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke suddenly feels
fifteen and blushing all over again.
He’s going to kill Michael.
Which isn’t exactly fair, he guesses. It’s not like Michael has any idea why
Luke’s heart is suddenly pounding his throat and his hands can’t remember how
to hold the X-Box controller right. Or is even aware that Luke’s reacting like
that at all. Luke just wishes he’d had a little fucking warning about precisely
who they’re auditioning for a drummer.
He pauses the game of FIFA they’re playing, ignoring Calum’s protests as he
watches Michael leap up to greet Ashton where he’s hovering in the open
doorway, pushbike leaning against him and looking like he’s ridden twenty miles
in Australian sun. He watches the excited smile break on Michael’s face, the
easy half-hug that forms between two all-but-strangers in amongst the glad you
could make its and the let’s do this things. Michael’s not exactly the
friendliest of guys to people he doesn’t know, Luke has that first hand
experience.
But Luke also remembers how easy it was to talk to Ashton that day a year ago,
and wonders whether that’s just the effect that this boy has on people.
“How does Michael know Ashton Irwin?” He asks Calum, tearing his eyes away from
the pair in the doorway. He tries to sound casual, and he knows as soon as
Ashton’s name leaves his lips, he’s missed it by miles. Ashton’s name sounds
different on his tongue.
Luke can feel his ears heating up.
But Calum just shrugs, easy, and it would not have been that simple if Luke had
asked Michael. Michael can be spikes and pointed questions, and Luke’s still
learning how to simply dodge them, doesn’t have Calum’s talent for just
ignoring Michael until he shuts up yet. “I dunno, Facebook?” Calum offers,
craning his neck to have a look at Ashton but clearly not quite interested
enough to get off the sofa. “How do you know him?”
Luke is saved from the embarrassing “He defended me from assholes at the cinema
a year ago and I haven’t really stopped thinking about him since” that’s
waiting on the tip of his tongue, ready to trip off and admit itself, by the
arrival of Michael and Ashton to the sofa that they’re slouched in.
The sofa is shoved in the corner of Michael’s garage. It’s covered in stains
and dirt and doodles of various band sigils across the back, their initials
sketched into the arms, 5SOS written a thousand times in all their hands. There
might be a few springs missing, but it’s perfect for the three of them, for
playing X-Box in between band practise, for the cuddles Michael insists on, for
recording their covers.
It’s also very good to sink into like Luke wants it to swallow him up, as
Michael cheerfully introduces them both to the smiling - his smile, fuck, it’s
like staring into the sun - Ashton and throws himself onto the arm of the sofa
and snatches the controller from Luke’s lax fingers, pressing Resume.
“You wanna play Fifa?” Calum offers out his controller instead of saying hello,
which is admittedly better than Luke’s greeting of just staring at Ashton and
trying not to panic.
But Ashton just shakes his head, still smiling. “Nah, I don’t really like
Fifa,” He shrugs, hands sliding into his pockets, and three heads swivel to
look at him, aghast.
(Well, two. Luke was already looking.)
"You don't like Fifa?" He hears his own voice asking, because it's as if
Ashton's just admitted he's not a real boy at all, doesn't enjoy sitting
squashed up into a tiny sofa with his friends, arguing and laughing and
shouting, because sometimes it's not about Fifa at all. At least not for Luke.
Maybe he doesn't have friends the way Luke has friends.
The thought is both unbearably sad and laughable; who wouldn't be friends with
Ashton Irwin and his smile?
Ashton shakes his head, smiling a little apologetically, before something in
his eyes shifts as he looks at Luke. Becomes a little more focused and yet far
away at the same time, like he's trying to remember the words to a song he
forgot years ago. A small line appears between his eyes and underneath his
blonde fringe, thinking, and suddenly Luke can't be in the room anymore.
He doesn't quite hear what he says, but he stumbles to his feet and all but
races for air. He's being really fucking rude but he can't process everything
right now, needs a second to breathe and reassess and connect the Ashton he met
a year ago with the Ashton standing in front of him now. They're the same
person, but Luke isn't anymore.
He doesn't want Ashton to place him, remember him as the dorky kid who needed
saving.
There’s also a third, secret, Ashton he’s trying not to think of. The one he’s
spent the past year vaguely thinking about. Nothing concrete, Luke’s never
allowed himself to find the other boy on Facebook or anything like that, for
fear of ruining the ideal he’s built up in his head, but whenever he felt bored
or lonely he’d let himself think about being protected and looked after by that
sunshine face, burying his face in his pillow in a mixture of delight and
embarrassment.
The air outside helps a little, washes out the flush he’s sure is bright pink
in his cheeks, and Luke leans himself against the garage wall, making sure to
stay out of sight of the house. He doesn’t want Michael’s mum seeing him and
worrying, he doesn’t exactly have a legitimate explanation for being like this.
The sun is warm above him, and he closes his eyes, tipping his head up to catch
the dying rays.
He thinks he left his breath somewhere inside the garage.
“Hey,” comes from somewhere close by, and Luke snaps his eyes open to see
Ashton standing a few feet away, face caught in a concerned frown as he steps
closer. Luke didn’t hear him come out. “You okay, Luke?”
Luke swallows, bullshit answer forming on his tongue before he completely
chokes on it. Because Ashton’s reaching out and laying a familiar hand on his
shoulder, like he’s worried Luke’s going to float off if he doesn’t.
Vaguely, Luke’s aware that he can hear Michael and Calum back in the garage,
tuning up and chatting quietly. He can hear the sound of cars passing on the
road nearby. Birds in the trees. It all fades as his focus comes down to one
singular point; the warmth of Ashton’s palm through his shirt, the slight
brushing of his thumb against the side of Luke’s neck, instinctive, as if he
doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
There was a question he has to answer in there somewhere, is he okay, and
Luke’s not really sure what the answer is actually. He nods, mute, cheeks
almost certainly pink from embarrassment and the fact that Ashton is touching
him, and Ashton smiles at him.
He doesn’t move his hand.
“Still not any less nervous, are you, Lukey?” Ashton’s voice is a quiet little
tease, a toothy smile that’s a little bit at Luke’s expense, but it’s as if
Luke’s in on the joke too. It’s nice. Not as nice as the small flip in his
stomach at the casual nickname he’s been bestowed. Lukey. He thinks he likes
that.
It takes the punch out of the realisation that, yes, Ashton definitely
remembers who he is.
Luke laughs a little, breathy, shaking his head. He might be a different guy to
who he was last year, but some things don’t change. Especially not in the
presence of people’s he’s very definitely into because Ashton is all legs and
stunning smiles. He’s older and he seems it. He’s taller and he doesn’t. He
came outside to check on Luke.
He’s nice.
He’s still looking at Luke.
He’s very close.
Luke’s eyes follow the path of Ashton’s tongue as it sweeps across his bottom
lip, before the pinkness is caught between his teeth and Luke is jerking his
gaze back up to Ashton’s eyes. His own mouth feels a little dry as Ashton seems
to study him, although what he thinks he’s looking for, Luke has no idea.
“Want me to help you calm down?” Ashton offers, the slight hesitancy in his
voice at the beginning of his sentence fading as he steps closer. His other
hand, the one not rubbing small circles into Luke’s neck, settles at Luke’s
hip, firm and steadying. He waits.
Luke can’t find his words. They’re lost somewhere in the gentle hazel of
Ashton’s eyes. He nods. “Um, yeah,” He croaks out, clearing his throat and
trying to meet Ashton’s patience gaze for more than a few seconds. “What. Um.
What do I have to-?”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Ashton finishes the thought for him. “Just
relax, yeah?”
Luke's brain doesn't fully catch on to what's happening until Ashton's breath
is fanning out across his lips. He can taste the memory of something sweet,
like Ashton was eating candy earlier, see the dust of Ashton's eyelashes
closing, feel a careful hand fit to his jaw, thumb stroking across his cheek,
and then Ashton is kissing him.
It's soft and sweet, gentle pressure fitting against Luke's lips, but Luke's
breath still hitches like he's been thrown up against the wall. He's suddenly
aware of every point of his body like he hasn't been ever been, and all of it
is singing Ashton's name. The space of his hip where Ashton's hand is firmly
laid hums.
Luke's kissed, and been kissed, before, but not like this. Not by someone who
knows how, who knows how to tilt Luke's chin up to a really good angle, how to
bite softly at the flesh of Luke's bottom lip and run his tongue across the
impression left behind until Luke's shivering. How to sync Luke's breath to
his.
When Luke sighs, he can feel Ashton's lips smiling.
Then Ashton pulls away, slow, holding onto the kiss for as long as possible.
Luke chases it a little, snatching a few extra seconds and a small giggle from
Ashton's mouth, before he rests his head back against the wall. He opens his
eyes. Ashton does the same, and Luke can feel his cheeks pinken even as he
smiles shyly at the older boy.
His heart is hammering in his chest, but strangely he does feel weirdly calmer.
Something about the grip Ashton still has on his hip, the easy follow of
Ashton's breath, his coaxing mouth. He feels like he should say thank you,
because that did help and he has no idea how Ashton knew it would. But he's
also pretty sure saying thank you for a kiss is pretty weird.
He's still trying to decide what to do when Ashton releases the hand he has on
Luke's waist, removes the hand that's slid into Luke's hair without Luke even
noticing. Ashton's not touching him anymore, but he's close enough, barely a
breath away, that Luke doesn't feel bereft.
He expects Ashton to say something - or maybe Ashton is waiting for him to say
something, oh god - when he feels long fingers collect up his hands and then
they’re being raised up to Ashton’s mouth. There’s a slight wetness to the pink
of Ashton’s lips as he ghosts them across Luke’s knuckles, eyes never leaving
Luke’s, and that’s because of Luke. Heis the reason for it.
Then Ashton lowers himself to his knees, using Luke’s hands as leverage, and
Luke has to be imagining this. He has to be. This can’t be happening.
Because those long fingers of Ashton’s are on the snap of Luke’s jeans,
stroking at the button, as he looks up at Luke from under his fringe and asks,
“This okay?”
Luke can’t seem to find any words. His mouth is working, but there’s nothing
coming out. Not even his breath. That’s stopped somewhere in his chest. Right
about the time when Luke’s brain made sense of Ashton on his knees and his dick
decided that it wanted in on the party.
His lack of answer seems to worry Ashton, because his hands move to stroke
soothing patterns into his stomach. “It’ll definitely calm you down,” He says,
voice certain but still waiting on Luke’s consent. “I promise.” And his smile
is quiet and true enough that Luke’s willing to believe this promise and every
other one Ashton will ever offer him in the future.
He buries his teeth in his bottom lip and nods his head, yes.
Ashton’s smile widens and he uses his hands on Luke’s shirt to push up the
material and lean in, dotting a nonsensical array of soft kisses across Luke’s
belly, pressing them in eager and happy, as if this is everything he wants to
be doing right now. In response to the attention, Luke’s abdomen tightens and
shivers shoot up and down his spine, between his legs, even before Ashton
begins sucking lightly at the skin.
“Oh god.” Luke can’t help the words falling out of his as Ashton pulls a small
mouthful of flesh between his teeth, and he feels Ashton’s mouth grin.
“Whatever you say, Lukey,” He murmurs across his skin before his fingers move
back to their original position and start undoing his jeans.
Then, “Nice boxers.”
Luke looks down and immediately wants to smack himself in the face.
He’s wearing fucking Batman boxers.
Usually he stands by them, Batman fucking rules, but right now he really wishes
he’d decided to put on just some plain black underwear this morning. Something
that wouldn’t have an amused smile playing on Ashton’s lips and Luke’s cheeks
flooding crimson.
Well it’s hardly like he knew this was going to happen!
Ashton’s small laugh breezes out against him, through the material of his
boxers to where Luke’s well on his way to stunning hardness from Ashton’s
attentions, before he leans forward and presses a small kiss to one of the
Batman logos.
Luke tips his head back and bites back a groan.
“Batman’s awesome, okay?” Ashton tells him, and the vibration of his speech
shudders against Luke as he mouths his still grinning mouth wetly at Luke’s
dick through his boxers. Luke’s embarrassment floods away, whether by Ashton’s
assurance or the sensation of his mouth or both, he doesn’t know. He just knows
Ashton.
And then he knows a gasp of cold air as Ashton's thumbs tuck into the lip of
his underwear and drag them down to mid-thigh, before hot breath covers him,
and Luke has to thump his head back into the wall to keep his wits about him.
Fuck.
He must say it out loud, because Ashton is giggling again, smudging kisses
across Luke's exposed thighs. "You're really sensitive," He notes, sounding
delighted, and Luke actually thinks he's doing pretty well seeing as how this
is his first time doing anything like this.
His mild outrage is firmly forgotten about when Ashton's dragging kisses across
his thighs, his hips, abruptly stop and Ashton is closing a chaste kiss on the
head of Luke's painfully hard dick. "I like it," He murmurs, but Luke barely
hears him because then Ashton is taking him into his mouth and it's everything.
It's nothing like his own hand, not even close. Ashton's mouth is hot, so hot
that Luke feels like he's on fire, and wet and sucking happily on his cockhead.
There's so much happening, the swirl of Ashton's tongue, the quiet slurping
noises that Ashton's making as he draws off and on the tip of Luke's dick, not
going any further down just yet, and Luke cannot believe this is happening.
And in Michael's back garden.
Luke is the worst friend ever.
At a swift series of kitten licks that Ashton delivers around him, Luke's
hands, previously hanging useless and numb by his side, move instinctively to
the back of Ashton's head. He pulls them back at the last second, self-
conscious, and Ashton catches him, hazel eyes flicking up to hold onto Luke's.
Ashton gives him a look, long and meaningful, and Luke doesn't really know what
it's supposed to mean, but he lets his hands settle in Ashton's hair. His
fingers come into contact with a little product, and that, above everything,
makes him unbearably pleased.
Ashton wanted to look nice, wanted to impress them.
Then Ashton hums, pleased, and coherent thought leaves Luke's head as Ashton
sucks his way down the length of Luke. His hips jerk at the sensations, and
Ashton's hands, broad and strong and all Luke will be able to think about for
weeks, secure themselves at Luke's hipbones again and push. Push until Luke's
pressed entirely against the wall and hold. Hold him still.
Luke groans, fingers tightening in Ashton's hair.
He doesn't know what it is. It's not just the incredible feeling of Ashton's
mouth working around him, which is pretty fucking amazing. But it's the
grounding pressure he has on Luke's hips, the quiet confidence he exudes as he
takes care of Luke. It's feeling entirely looked after. Luke feels like he
could fall to the ground and Ashton would catch him on the way down.
Actually that's a bit of a possibility. His knees feel very weak.
"Ash-" He can't get Ashton's whole name out, because suddenly he's hurtling
towards an edge, heat pooling in his stomach and his hands clenching in
Ashton's hair.
He looks down, he can't stop looking down, and sees Ashton looking up at him,
lips red and wet and around Luke's cock, eyes fixed squarely on Luke as his
cheeks hollow and-
Luke feels torn apart, like something inside of him has cracked open and is
spilling apart without his control. He gasps a sound that could be Ashton's
name, and comes like he never has before. Unexpectedly.
As he slumps back against the wall, eyes closing and heart racing, Ashton takes
his time getting back up again. Instead he licks his way around Luke's
sensitive flesh - licking him clean, Luke realises, a thought that makes him
feel ridiculously good for some reason - and tucks him back into his boxers
before he stands.
Luke opens his eyes to see Ashton wiping his mouth, wiping Luke off his mouth,
before he’s closing them again to accept the small little kiss Ashton is
gifting him. And that kiss feels like Ashton’s sealing all of Luke’s cracks
back up again, carefully handling all his little pieces and slotting them back
into place for him.
“Better?” He murmurs, pulling back just a little.
And he probably wants an answer, right?
“Uhhh,” Luke says, then frowns, because that wasn’t actually words. Damn it.
But Ashton just chuckles a little, at him but not meanly, which Luke is
beginning to see as a pattern, and kisses his cheek. “I like you relaxed,” He
says, smiling that sunshine smile, and flicking his fringe out of his eyes.
Then he shrugs, “I think I like you anyway,” and rests himself on the wall
beside Luke.
Luke’s stuck enough on that, these vastly improbable words that Ashton
definitely just said, that he doesn’t notice that Ashton’s unbuckling his own
jeans until he’s slipping a hand into his boxers right beside Luke, hissing a
little as he takes himself in hand. Luke’s definitely staring, transfixed, at
the quick, efficient, movements of Ashton’s hand through his boxers. But he
figures that since his dick was just in Ashton’s mouth, he’s probably allowed
to look.
“Do you…” He trails off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as Ashton’s hand
speeds up a little, twists under the material of his underwear. “Um...Do you
want some help with that?”
Ashton’s assuring smile breaks off on a groan. “Nah,” He says, breathing
heavily. “I got it, don’t worry. This was for you, not me. Just don't- ah," He
cuts himself off with a particularly slick sounding noise, and Luke's stomach
flips. "Don't want to go back in with a boner, y'know?" He says, as if
everything that's just happened and is happening right now is perfectly normal.
Luke's pretty sure it's not but, hey, he's hardly complaining.
The thing is, though, that he suddenly really, really, wants to help. Slowly,
and keeping his eyes on Ashton so if it looks like the other boy wants him to
stop at any point, he can, Luke reaches out a hesitant hand. Because he feels
like he can, feels like he can do anything right now, thanks to Ashton.
His knuckles brush against Ashton's - black - boxers, the heat of them, the
damp spot where the head of Ashton's dick is being fisted into the material,
and he feels Ashton beneath his fingers.
Ashton comes. It's like watching a star explode, how fucking incredible he
looks when he's coming. But it's there and gone in a heartbeat, Ashton
collapsing against the wall and his chest heaving.
Eyes still closed, he pulls his hand out of his underwear and, quite daintily,
licks the few smears of come off his hand before he's opening his eyes and
fixing them on Luke, admonishing. "Dude," He says, laughing incredulously.
Luke's still stuck on watching him lick his own come off his hand because holy
fuck Luke wants to watch that on repeat for the rest of his life. But Ashton's
still talking. "You made me come in my pants, what the hell?"
Luke tears his eyes away from Ashton's hand and feels himself heat up. "Sorry!"
He blurts out, but Ashton's already shaking his head.
"S'okay. Would have been awkward to clear up anyway."
And he reaches out to kiss the embarrassment out of Luke's mouth.
Luke's not really sure what's happening - if he's honest he hasn't really known
since Ashton came out to check on him - but the kiss is nice and Ashton is
nice, and Luke feels really nice right now. And he knows they're got a
practise/audition to get back to, probably been out too long already, but he
lets Ashton kiss him and press him into the wall of the garage.
He can't hear the tuning of guitars anymore. Mikey and Cal must have gone back
to playing video games.
"So?" Ashton asks, leaning against the wall beside him and quirking an eyebrow
at Luke as he does his jeans back up.
"So...What?" He asks, turning so he mimics Ashton's position. Was there a first
part to that question or...?
Ashton giggles. It's the nicest sound. "Do you feel better now?" He clarifies,
and Luke ducks his head, biting back a stupid smile.
"Yeah," He says, because he does. And then, because he can't stop his stupid
mouth from talking he also says, "Thanks."
Ashton giggles again. "You're welcome, Lukey."
"I'm sorry," He keeps going. "For running out and being a giant weirdo. I just.
I don't know if you remember me, from the cinema, and you just caught me off
guard, I-"
"I remember you." Ashton's interruption is quiet but it cuts through Luke's
babbling instantly. Then he smiles. No, smirks. "It's hard to forget a cute boy
in fluorescent green glasses."
Luke's cheeks heat up at that, at Ashton calling him cute, which is ridiculous
because Ashton literally just sucked him off, he's pretty sure Ashton's at
least a little bit attracted to him. But still he blushes, and Ashton giggles
his giggle again, and leans in one final time to kiss him. It's short and soft
and feels like an end and a beginning all at once.
"I'll see you inside, yeah?" Ashton says, straightening out his hair because,
yeah, it definitely looks like he just blew a guy. Luke probably shouldn't have
tugged so hard.
"Yeah," Luke nods, but as Ashton begins to walk away, he  reaches out to clasp
Ashton’s wrist, holding him there for a second. "And, um, me too."
Ashton stops, turns back and tilts his head. He doesn't remove Luke's hand.
"You too what?"
Luke almost loses his nerve. But, "I think I like you too," He manages, and
Ashton's face splits into its biggest grin so far. It is just like staring at
the sun.
A sun with dimples.
While Ashton goes back inside, Luke stays leant against the wall a bit longer.
His heart is quick, but it's like it's racing in time to a song he desperately
wants to sing. Then he straightens himself out, forces the remains of his blush
out of his cheek, and heads back inside.
Ashton’s already talking to the others, as if he’d been there all along, and
it’s only by the small knot at the back of his hair that Luke put there and
Ashton hasn’t quite worked out that Luke assures himself that that entire thing
did, in fact, happen.
He ignores Calum’s searching look, murmuring a “Sorry, back now,” and
desperately pleading with himself not to turn red under his assessment, and
begins tuning his own guitar as Ashton starts marvelling over the fact that,
for some reason, Michael has a drum-kit in his garage.
“How come you have a drum-kit?” He’s saying, as if he hadn’t noticed it when he
first arrived, sitting himself on the stool without instruction. He looks at
home behind the drums, twiddling the sticks between his long fingers,
and...Luke’s staring again. “I brought my cajon!”
“My parents,” Michael shrugs, which is answer enough, looking incredibly
pleased at Ashton’s obvious delight, as Calum pipes up with, “What the hell is
a cajon?” Luke looks up again, and sees Ashton glancing at him, even as he
explains what the wooden box he brought with him actually is, small smile on
his face the whole time and even if he’s directing it at Calum, it feels like
part of it is for Luke.
Then they’re deciding a song to play, Michael’s yelling “Lets get this show on
the road!”, Calum’s telling him to shut up, Luke’s slinging his guitar around
his neck, and Ashton’s counting them in.
It’s the best band practise they’ve ever had.
It's not just that Ashton's keeping time and adding rhythm, adding something
they always knew was missing but could never fill. Luke feels like he's playing
on fucking air, feels unstoppable singing i'm just a teenage dirtbag, babywith
Calum and Michael fucking harmonising, fuck.
They sound awesome, and they're grinning at each other so wide that the words
come out sounding like laughter.
To Luke, it's a no-brainer; Ashton's in. But they still set their guitars down
- even though everything in Luke just wants to keep playing forever - and leave
Ashton alone in the garage while they grab some Cokes and talk it through.
Which is the smart idea. This is everything they ever want to do, Luke can't
fuck over the other two by just blurting out 'Oh my god, yes, you're in!' if
they don't agree.
It doesn't stop him from doing so out of Ashton's earshot.
"My vote's yes," He says as soon as they enter Michael's kitchen, and he
doesn't miss the significant glance Michael and Calum level at each other, even
as Michael opens the fridge.
"Mine too," Michael says, handing a can to Calum, one to Luke, and grabbing one
for himself.
"And me," Calum adds, and then waits until Luke's taking his first much needed
gulp of fizz. "Even though he didn't suck me off behind the garage."
Luke chokes on his coke.
While he's coughing and spluttering, trying to find his breath and his dignity,
Michael and Calum laugh at him, gleefully exchanging high fives. Luke hates
them, okay, he really does. "How did you know?" He asks, wheezes, but his
friends both level a are you fucking kidding us look at him. He shuts up.
"You were hardly subtle, mate," Michael laughs, and when Luke flips him off he
only laughs harder.
Even as mortified as Luke is right now, he can't help but laugh a little as he
tells Michael to "Fuck off, Mike." Michael's infectious like that.
"Look we just need to know if he, like, y'know, offered you a blowjob so you'd
vote yes," Calum's still saying, and he looks serious. Luke stops laughing. "He
doesn't seem like that kinda guy, but we have to ask."
"What? No!" Luke's offended they think he'd do that, and he tells them so,
outrage warring with a desire not to be heard by Michael's mum, wherever she
may be.
Then he thinks, chewing on his bottom lip, before that outrage swells up once
again. "Also what are you implying? What? The only reason he'd blow me would be
to get in the band?" Luke's kind of, well, hurt actually, and he can feel that
he's pouting a little. He tries to stop, searching for the certainty that he
had earlier. "He did it because he likes me, okay?"
He crosses his arms over his chest, punctuating his declaration triumphantly,
and sees that Calum and Michael are
Smirking.
Luke suddenly feels like he's missed something. "What?" He asks, cautious, and
Michael outright laughs at him.
"Dude, you're too easy," Calum cackles, swinging an arm around Luke's shoulder
and hugging him affectionately. Luke kinda wants to throw him off right now,
but Calum's love is like a puppy. It's hard to say no. "Of course he didn't
blow you to get in the band, we're not that good."
"Hey!" Michael shouts, looking offended. "I told him we'd be playing to two
hundred people."
"If he believed that, he's an idiot."
Michael opens his mouth to retort and Luke can see the beginning of a very long
and pointless argument. He cuts it off before it begins. "So he's in?"
"Well yes obviously." Michael rolls his eyes, sufficiently distracted. "It's a
good job he's amazing on drums otherwise we'd have a fucking awkward situation
here, Hemmings."
Luke winces. He hadn't thought of that.
Truth be told, he hadn't been thinking anything at all, anything that wasn't
Ashton Ashton Ashton...
Then he shrugs, grinning. "Still got a blowjob out of it," because he knows
it'll make Michael's face screw up. Calum just looks at him, like he knows
Luke's full of shit, and, well, yeah he is. He just doesn't need to know that
it's so obvious.
He ducks the disgusted thump Michael throws at his arm, grabs the spare coke
they set aside to take back for Ashton, and leaves. Michael and Calum hang back
and, sure enough, when he looks back their heads are bent together, talking
quietly.
It's the first time it doesn't nag at him a little. The three of them are
closer than is sometimes healthy, but there are times when it's impossible to
forget just how long Calum and Michael have been friends, impossible not to
feel a little on the outside. But then Calum will grin his puppy-dog grin at
Luke, rolling his eyes at Michael and asking Luke to join in the joke. Or
Michael will throw himself onto Luke for the boniest, greatest cuddles Luke
knows. And it's alright.
And now they're definitely talking about him, but he doesn't mind, so he leaves
them to it and goes to find Ashton.
The garage appears empty at first glance. Luke frowns, confused, until he hears
a laugh and finds the source of it; Ashton making himself comfortable across
their sofa, legs kicked up over the arm and body draped over the cushions. Luke
can't help his smile. He fits.
"So?" Ashton asks, rolling himself up to look over the back of the sofa at
Luke, arms folded under his chin. There's the slightest flicker in his smiling
eyes, as If he's worried, before it's gone. "Did I make it?"
Luke laughs, handing over the Coke. "I can't tell you that!"
"Aw," Ashton complains, good natured. "So they're sending in the pretty one to
break the bad news, huh?" And he grins all teeth up at Luke who, as if on cue,
blushes.
"Shut up," He tells him. "And stop guessing. Wait for the others."
"Spoilsport." Ashton throws himself dramatically back into the cushions, and
Luke doesn't think he's ever met anyone who expresses emotions as expansively
as Ashton does.
The easy smile on Luke's mouth fades in the silence that ensues after Ashton's
outburst. In that quiet, he can hear Calum's words all over again. Joking the
other boy may have been, but there's something like a ring of truth creeping
into Luke's head. Ashton is expressive and amazing and stunning. Why would he
be interested in someone like Luke? Someone who he only really knows as the
dork from the cinema he had to recuse.
All of Luke's certainty from earlier leaves him, like it was never there in the
first place, because what if Calum was right...
He's been quiet for too long. The arm Ashton threw over his face in protest
raises, so he can see Luke again. "You okay?"
Luke blinks, forcing a smile. "Yeah, course."
Ashton's gaze feels like an X-Ray, piercing with its concern. He pushes up
again, until he's on his knees, and reaches out for Luke as if it's the only
instinct he has. His hands settle on Luke's waist. "Luke."
It's the way he say his name, with an inflection Luke's never heard before.
Like his name is a full sentence in Ashton's mouth.
"Did you. Um. Did you do that for me so that I'd like you? To get in?"
His voice sounds tiny. Humiliated.
He so desperately wants to be wrong right now.
Ashton blinks. His mouth falls slack, and the way he looks at Luke... It's like
his heart is breaking. Luke immediately tries to apologise, take back his
words, his fears, but Ashton cuts him off. He grabs for one of Luke's hands,
holding it between his own, and his grip is so tight. "Luke, I promise you," He
says, eyes never leaving Luke's. "That isn't why. Okay?"
Luke searches his face, but he has no idea what he's looking for. All he can
see is earnest hazel eyes and Ashton worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.
He nods, uncertain but trying not to be. "Okay."
Ashton frowns. He can tell Luke's not fully there yet. Without letting go of
Luke's hand, he swings himself up and over the back of the sofa, until he's
standing in front of Luke. Luke looks up at him, then down at their hands.
"I promise," Ashton says again, like he's swearing fealty to Luke or something,
and he cups Luke's face with his free hand. Luke can't help but close his eyes
at the touch, opens them again immediately, and Ashton is looking at him,
silently asking.
Luke nods, and then Ashton's mouth is soft but insistent against his. Like
Ashton's trying to seal his promise with his kiss.
And Luke wants to believe him, so he does. "Okay," He murmurs, when Ashton
pauses to breathe. "Okay."
He can taste Ashton's smile.
Then the garage's side door opens and they leap apart. Luke's hand flies to his
hair, even though Ashton never touched it, and he does his best not to look at
the other boy as Michael and Calum return. He can hear Ashton giggling quietly.
Michael and Calum really aren't fooled. Michael rolls his eyes, and Calum
laughs, definitely at Luke, but they don't say anything. Assholes they may be,
but they're bros like that.
"So?" Ashton asks, leaning his hip against the sofa as the other two join Luke.
Like they're a fucking judges panel or some shit. "Verdict? I've been trying to
get the answer out of Lukey here but he's like a vault!"
"There's a joke about lock-picking in here somewhere but I'm not making it,"
Calum mutters, while Michael cackles, "Lukey!"
Luke, dignified, ignores them both.
"Okay, well, probably best we don't put this off any longer." Michael sighs.
"Ash. Dude. I'm sorry." He steps forward and lays a sorrowful hand on Ashton's
shoulder, and Luke shoots an alarmed look at Calum, who just looks solemn. What
the fuck? Did they change their minds?!
Then he sees a small smirk tugging at Calum's lips.
"Truly sorry that we're going to have to see that hideous shirt again at next
band practise," Michael's face splits into a grin, and Luke feels the air
whoosh out of him in relief.
Michael's a fucking dick.
"What's wrong with this shirt?" Ashton asks, laughing, as Michael pulls him in
for a congratulatory hug.
"Mate, it's fucking purple," Calum tells him.
Luke's smiling too hard to say anything.
And then Michael's pulling Luke and Calum into the hug as well, all limbs and
laughter. Luke's used to Michael's insistence on group hugs, nap time snuggles,
and the occasional smushing when he's bored, but this time one whole side of
him is pressed up against Ashton. One arm is looped around Luke's waist and is
squeezing him reassuringly, even as Ashton grins and laughs. Luke squeezes
back.
It feels good. Right. A heartbeat of this could really be something and it's
not just him, it's thrumming inside of all of them, Luke can tell.
It passes, settling and quieting to a background hum as Calum thumps Ashton
happily in the arm and slopes off to play more video games and Michael asks
Ashton whether he wants to stay for dinner. Luke extricates himself, because
otherwise it's just him and Ashton, hugging.
"Thanks, but I've got to get back," Ashton shrugs apologetically. "Next time?"
He and Michael fist bump, he throws a wave to Calum who's already absorbed in
the game and being joined by Michael, and then smiles at Luke. "Walk me out?"
Luke smiles back and nods, ridiculously pleased.
"I'm sorry," He says, sheepish, as they step out into the early evening light,
Ashton's pushbike between them. Ashton, who'd be halfway through lamenting how
long it takes him to get home, stops. "About what I said earlier," He explains.
Ashton stops them on the pavement, pulling to a halt, and he looks like he's
about to disagree, but Luke needs to get this out.
"It's just. You know. You're seventeen and cool and really nice and hot." He's
babbling, he knows he is, there's a small amused smile playing on Ashton's
lips. "And I'm...I’m not." He shrugs lamely. "I just-"
He's cut off by Ashton's hand on his neck, Ashton tilting their heads together.
Luke expects another kiss, but instead Ashton just presses his forehead to
Luke's. "I get it, okay. You don't have to apologise." His thumb strokes at the
back of Luke's neck, hand squeezing there a little in reassurance. Luke sighs.
"You were nervous and I wanted to help. Because I like you. Yeah?"
"Yeah," Luke nods, smiling helplessly, and Ashton kisses him.  
Luke's never been kissed so much and so often before. He's overwhelmed with it.
He can hear whooping and laughing from inside the garage, and ignores it,
pressing over Ashton's bike to the other boy.
Ashton breaks the kiss but doesn't move away immediately, giggling at the lewd
sounds their bandmates are making. Luke can taste his laughter, warm breath
against his mouth.
"Here," Ashton says, pulling back and reaching into his pocket for something.
He hands Luke a phone. "Put your number in?" His voice sounds hopeful, his
smile too.
Luke all but snatches the phone out of his hands.
Double-checking like five times that he's actually managed to put in his number
correctly, he hands the phone back as Ashton swings a leg over his bike. Ashton
pockets it, grinning at Luke so happily, and he's about to leave when he
pauses.  "It's not true, you know," He says, serious even with his smile. "That
you're 'not'. You are. You are a lot of pretty great things."
And with that, he's kicking off and pedalling away and leaving Luke standing
outside of Michael's garage with the biggest smile on his face.
 
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