organic. ➵ lashton

four>

[warnings: lol eating disorder triggers, ashton has another soliloquy this time about italy, foods in excessive amounts, luke will probably cry idk i haven't written it yet, spoiler luke cries, lots of star wars references for no apparent reason, anyway have fun reading this spam is so exciting]

[ships: luke hemmings + ashton irwin, ashton irwin + italy and you'll see why in a moment]

"Eat."

Luke looked at the plate set in front of him, then back up at Ashton, then back down at the plate, and repeated this a few times.

"This isn't a meal."

"This isn't your standard meal. This is people food. You know, full of tastes and scents and whatnot? It's what people talk about after they've been to Italy. You see, in Italy, if you simply walk down the street there are so many scents of food and maybe of dead animals and stinky cheese, but that doesn't matter because in Italia, there's so much to try."

"Ashton, you served me spaghetti out of a can. I don't think that counts as Italian."

"It's Italian enough for me, Luke. All I'm trying to do is get you interested in cultural foods. Foods from different cultures."

Luke frowned at the steaming pile of carbohydrates with a little bit more slopped on the top in a red, sauce-like disguise.

The smell taunted his nose, that hadn't smelt anything more tasteful than low-fat vanilla yogurt in three years.

He gripped the fork in his hand and looked up at Ashton, who had this pleasant little smile on his face as if this were as easy for Luke as lifting a fork and shoving it into his mouth.

It wasn't.

Luke was near to tears and he didn't even have any spaghetti on his fork yet.

He really liked Ashton and all, but when he just had to drop the fork and stare down at his lap in shame, he hated him.

The smell killed him. Maybe he would have been able to eat it, had he not had a nose. Maybe he should just cut off his nose. Or his hands, so he wouldn't be able to eat. Then his feet, to eliminate any ability to eat.

Then he'd be dead.

And limb-less.

"Ashton I can't eat this, it's too much, really," Luke mumbled, sniffling a bit.

Luke didn't want to look up, he didn't want to see the look of disappointment on Ashton's pretty face. He didn't want to see the sadness that he caused.

"Alright," Ashton shrugged, taking the untouched plate from Luke's presence, "I'm glad you tried."

Luke sighed, because he hadn't tried. Ashton was just saying so, maybe to get Luke's feelings back in check, or to assist in self-esteem issues, or something of the sort.

"Do you want to, like, watch a movie or something?"

Luke looked around Ashton's little kitchen, not meeting his eyes.

"Sure," he replied, his voice quiet and limp.

Ashton intwined their hands once more, filling Luke with a warm sensation that spread through his legs, to the farthest reaches of his brain, through his skull, in between his toes, down and up his fingers, and all over his chest. He shuddered at the ticklish feeling and sat down on the couch, immediately snuggling up to Ashton and resting his head on the older boy's chest.

"Lukey," Ashton whispered, having put in Gravity and waiting anxiously to see a depressed Sandra Bullock floating around in space.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you used the fork-ce, Luke."

Luke looked up at Ashton.

"I'll kiss you if you don't ever utter any more Star Wars wordplay."

Ashton smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Well, what side of an Ewok has more hair?"

Ashton shrugged and pressed a kiss to Luke's lips, a hand in his hair.

"The outside," Luke mumbled, putting both hands on Ashton's shoulders to kiss him with more fervent passion.

They rolled over on the couch, Gravity playing in the background as Luke's hands wandered and Ashton lifted up Luke's shirt and gasped at the emaciation he saw.

Or maybe he shouldn't have gasped, because Luke immediately snapped out of his lust-driven haze and looked down at his crinkled shirt, pushing it down over his sunken stomach and looking up at Ashton, betrayal filling his blues. Ashton spluttered, shaking his head as Luke got up and grabbed his grey coat.

"Lukey, please-"

"No, Ashton! I just.. I think I just, need to go solo for a little bit, okay?"

Luke grabbed his jacket and slid it over his shoulders, scurrying to and out of the door before Ashton could say another word.

Ashton sunk down into his couch, his hand over the backrest where Luke would have been, had he not been so eager.

Soon, he began to giggle.

His giggle turned into a full blown laugh as he got up and grabbed his landline, dialling in Michael's number and letting out another cackle as the other end was connected.

"What the hell are you on about, you loon?"

"L-Luke and I were.. were making Star Wars puns, and... a-and he got embarrassed a-a bit ago and l-left but he said he just.. just needed to go solo! Han Solo!"