Caraphernelia (lashton au)

The First Punch

"And it's good enough to make me wanna fall in love

So move a little bit closer
Hear the sound of your voice

We're screaming, "Why can't we just be friends?"

It's not that easy, but it's half of the fun,
To see you throw the first punch."

~ The First Punch by Pierce the Veil

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"Can you fly?" Ashton poked Luke's cheek, asking question after question once they woke up on the couch that morning. Luke sighed as Ashton laid on his chest, eyes wide and curious. Ashton's shy side seemed to have vanished completely, and hopefully that meant he was comfortable with Luke now.

"Mhm," he simply replied, tracing random patterns on Ashton's back.

"So...you're like Peter Pan?" Luke furrowed his eyebrows,

"I guess? If you'd like to think of me like that, then sure." Luke didn't really think he was anything like Peter Pan, but Ashton's face lit up, and he buried his face into the crook of Luke's neck and smiled.

"I love Peter Pan!" He childishly exclaimed, making a fond smile plaster on Luke's face.

And I love you. Luke so desperately wanted to say.

But he held his tongue.

---------

Ashton was now walking to his and Luke's special place (it wasn't all that special, but to them it was) after work, the winter sun moving lower in the sky.

He hated walking, and not because it was exercise. Well, that was part of it, but he always felt unsafe while he was going by the 'shady' side of town. Ashton couldn't help but feel like he was being watched, so he briskly picked up the pace.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ashton focused on other things to get his mind off of how dark it was getting and that he could possibly get kidnapped.

He thought about Luke.

His blue eyes, his blonde (and always perfect) hair, his many different ways of smiling (there was one smile Ashton has only seen Luke use on him, so he'd like to think it was special), his lip ring, his cocky yet dorky personality-

Ashton was lost in thought by then, his pace slowing down considerably.

Maybe if he didn't let his thoughts distract him, then things wouldn't have happened, and a rough hand wouldn't have tightened around Ashton's arm. But it did, and tugged him into the dark concealment of an alleyway, making Ashton flail and let out a noise in surprise.

"Who the fuck-" a hand flew to his mouth, silencing the rest of his sentence. Ashton's eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, but he still couldn't identify the person.

The air between them was tense as Ashton's heart raced, only being able to take in quick, short breaths as the person's sweaty hand stayed on his mouth. His back dug into the brick wall as the person (a guy, Ashton was sure) leaned closer and whispered in a falsely sweet tone,

"Hey, Ashton. Remember me?"

The blood drained from Ashton's face, his heart dropping.

"I-I didn't--I didn't know you were in A-America." Ashton trembled, feeling his uncle's grip tighten.

He and his uncle had an interesting history, you could say. Ashton dreaded every holiday when his uncle came over--he would hurt Ashton in every way possible when his mom wasn't looking--and it added to his hate towards himself. Ashton's uncle never hurt his other siblings, yet he felt the need to call Ashton horrible things. He even assumed Ashton was gay before he came out to anyone. Was he that obvious?