Well hey guys! This is a fluffy little 5sos story. My friend and I were playing a game and she gave me this prompt, and I liked it so much I decided to post it. Enjoy!
"Yo, Luke wait up!"
I glanced behind me to see Ashton running to catch up to me, wavy hair held back by that stupid bandana he always wore. My heart started fluttering rapidly in my chest at the sound of his voice, for reasons that I didn't want to understand and sullenly refused to examine. I kept walking, studiously ignoring him in favor of staring at my beat up vans, hands shoved in the pockets of my jeans.
"Luke! What the fuck, wait up," Ashton said breathlessly, jogging to my side. He bent over panting, trying to catch his breath; I kept walking.
A hand grabbing tight on my shoulder startled me, and the sparks it sent through my body sent me into a sudden and unfounded rage. I grabbed the hand, flinging it off my body and spun around angrily to face Ashton, towering over him.
"What the fuck do you want," I hissed at him. I was itching for a fight; I needed to do something with my hands or I'd do something I would regret. Those hazels eyes stared back at me, irritatingly un-intimidated.
"To talk to you," he said, staring up at me, his expression guileless. Suddenly I was aware of our proximity; our noses were almost touching and I could smell his woodsy cologne. My fingers were trembling, I couldn't stand it. Just move in a few more inches Luke…come on…
I took a hurried step back, horrified at where my thoughts had gone. Looking back at Ashton patiently waiting on the sidewalk, all the fight left me, and I slumped onto one of the benches that sprouted up all over the park. I was trembling visibly, staring at my shaking hands. I heard Ashton sit down on the bench next to me.
"What's going on, Luke?" he asked softly. I could feel the pressure of his eyes, even if I was studying my hands like they were a puzzle I had to decode.
"Nothing," I mumbled, tonguing my black lip ring as I turned away. It was a beautiful day, but cold, leaving the park almost deserted.
"This is clearly not nothing," I heard Ashton say, sounding exasperated. I heard rustling and I knew he was fisting his hands in his hair like he always did when he frustrated, the muscles in his arms standing out. He was up now, pacing in front of the bench.
"One day you're laughing and happy, and the next day you're acting like I fucking murdered your dog or something, and the rest of the group were my accomplices," he exclaimed, glaring at me.
I looked up at him, blinking. Angry Ashton was a very unusual sight indeed. He started again, taking my glance as permission to continue, not that he'd stop without it.
"I mean what the fuck Luke, did we do something? Did I do something to you? Don't think I haven't noticed you've been acting weird around me lately, more than the rest of the group."
I was only half hearing what he was saying as I watched, mesmerized, as his drummer's hands beat a tattoo on his leg. I wondered if he even noticed.
"Luke, what the hell, are you even listening to me?" Ashton yelled, grabbing my shoulders. I stiffened.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me," I ground out, staring at him. His eyes stared back, and I could see the hurt there, along with the indignance, daring me to do something about it. I couldn't. I could just sit and glare, soaking in the feeling of his hands on my shoulders. God damn it!
He started shouting, "Why? Huh? Is it because you can't stand me? Because I'm a terrible person that's – mph!" I snapped. I stopped thinking and grabbed the front on his shirt, angrily shoving my mouth against his, my lips pressed against his lips. He stiffened under me, and I shoved him away, my heart pounding. He stumbled back, staring at me, pressing his fingers to his lips.
"That's why!" I yelled down at him, jumping off of the bench to stand over him. "Don't you get it? I've wanted to do that for the last two years, and it fucking terrifies me. Are you happy now? You just ruined the band and my life. I'm out of here."
I stalked off, leaving a shocked Ashton sitting on the sidewalk. As I walked, I was surprised to notice tears making their way down my cheeks. I dashed them away angrily, blindly stumbling down the sidewalk.
"Luke, stop!" I heard from behind me. Rage filled me again.
"What more could you possibly want?" I yelled, spinning to face the sandy haired boy, tears streaming down my cheeks and sobs tearing through my body. I didn't even care. "Do you want to make fun of the "gay boy"? Punch me? Well go ahead. You can't make it any worse."
Ashton looked at me and raised his hand. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable slap. It never came; instead I felt a calloused thumb brush a tear from my cheek. I cracked open my eyes, peering down at the smaller boy. He was looking up at me sadly, his hazel eyes huge. I gazed into them; I couldn't help myself.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, and then pressed his mouth to mine.
I couldn't think, not with those lips comforting me, that tongue slipping into my mouth, those arms around my waist. I was still crying, tears slipping down my face, slipping between our joined mouths. He pulled away, shaking just as badly as I felt I probably was. He hid his head in the crook of my neck, his lips against the skin. I held him tightly, trying to ease our trembling together. I stared into space, wondering what the fuck had just happened.