In the Next Room • Lashton

sweet endings.

Luke's presence in Ashton's apartment becomes something of a constant fixture in the following weeks, making it both easier and harder for Ashton to play his part in this little game they've got going on. Easier because he's starting to get used to the constant flirting and how touchy Luke is. Harder because 'getting used to it' only means he's come to expect it, not that he's unaffected by it— if anything, he likes Luke more and more day in and day out as he continues to get to know him and corroborates his idea that they just fit together. They make sense in a way that many things in Ashton's life simply do not, it feels like there are no wrong things to say or eggshells to walk on at any point. Ashton's guard drops so quickly it's scary; being open isn't something that comes easily to him at all –never having had a chance to explore his own feelings, too preoccupied with looking after everyone else's–. To have Luke come into his life and gladly accept every tidbit Ashton's willing to offer without ever asking for more—It's fucking terrifying how much he wants to give.

Luke, on the other hand, gives away a lot of himself with ease. He's a very open person, he doesn't hesitate before sharing a story or letting something slip about himself in conversation. More than that, though, Luke feels authentic and bright and bubbly and his constant presence in Ashton's apartment is what really turns it into a home. Christening every corner with his laughter and filling that "new apartment emptiness" that won't recede with music and bringing him trinkets he finds that have 'his vibes' to make it more like him—Ashton doesn't tell him his apartment feels more like Luke with every inch covered in reminders of his passing through it. He especially doesn't tell him how much he loves it; getting to walk around in this space that isn't just his but almost theirs.

Their shared comfort is exactly what lands them together at 10 a.m. on a Saturday. Luke roaming the apartment while Ashton makes coffee for the both of them.

"How come I never hear you play music?" Luke says as he peruses Ashton's vinyl collection for the umpteenth time.

He had all of them memorized, Ashton knew this. Luke himself boasted it on one of the nights they shared with Calum and Michael— "I know Ash better than anybody," he'd said; baiting Calum into one of their staple childish arguments. Calum, of course, rose to the occasion, firing random facts about Ashton at lightning speed. "No, no, no. We get it, you've known him the longest, but I know him the best." Michael laughed from his seat, rejoicing in yet another time wherein Ashton was brought into the middle of a random quarrel. Then, before Calum could continue exposing Ashton, Luke started going off about the –surprisingly extensive– list of things he'd picked up about him since they started hanging out: Ashton had 36 albums on vinyl, he liked his coffee with no sweetener but his tea with honey, he never could find his yoga mat even though it was always behind his easel, he had a bunch of acrylic paints but liked watercolors best, he always kept the curtains drawn back and the windows closed because he liked the sunlight but not the noise from the street, and, most importantly, he liked him better than Calum. Ashton made himself scarce as soon the last one was announced, pride evident in Luke's voice, knowing the next thing he'd be hit with would be a, "That's not true. Tell him, Ash," from Calum— he just wanted to save everyone the embarrassment, he wasn't a very good liar.

He walks into his living room to find Luke still standing in front of the shelves he'd designated for his collection, just skimming his eyes over it. Luke's playing with a loose thread on his sweater, rocking back and forth on his feet; it's hard for him to stay still, Ashton had noticed some time ago, though it's hard to pinpoint exactly when. It might've been two weeks ago when he'd been drumming his fingers against Ashton's coffee table and he'd noticed the red polish on his nails, or last Wednesday when he accidentally unplugged Ashton's laptop because he couldn't stop pacing around the living room, or two days ago when Michael called him a human vibrator when he wouldn't stop bouncing his leg, or ten minutes ago when he knocked on Ashton's door and then drummed a song on it until he opened it— he just likes to keep a steady outpour of energy, Ashton guesses.