Chapter Text
When the kiss broke, Calum looked into Ashton’s eyes and found them wide, bright with tears before Ashton turned away and scrubbed them away with his shirtsleeve. “I’m okay,” he said. “I’m fine, it’s just-- god, I really didn’t plan for this, and I think I’m freaking out. I swear it’s not your fault, it’s just--”
“Ash, hey, it’s okay,” Calum said quickly. “It’s okay, I know it’s my fault. I went too fast, that’s on me. Can I help? Like, would you like a hug?” Ashton glanced at him, the corners of his mouth tight, and then he said, “A hug would be nice. If it’s okay.”
“It’s totally okay,” Calum said, and hugged him. Ashton, despite being less than an inch shorter, was curling so close in on himself that his head nestled against Calum’s throat. Calum tucked his chin over Ashton’s head and ran his fingers lightly through Ashton’s hair, wondering what to say that could reassure him, to let his muscles unclench and his breathing even out. They were soulmates, weren’t they? Weren’t soulmates supposed to know?
“If you want,” he finally said, “just. If you want. To like, take a walk, clear your head, whatever. You could do that.”
“I might,” Ashton said, after a pause. “You wouldn't be too upset, would you?”
“It’s not about me,” Calum replied. “It’s your call, okay? Whatever you need to do.” He quickly pulled his hand away as Ashton nodded against his chest. Then Ashton took a deep breath, and then he said,
“I think I'm gonna take a walk.”
“Okay,” Calum said. “Take your time. But make sure you know how to get back, yeah? It’s a big world out there.” Ashton, pulling out of the hug, gave a small chuckle.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said. Then he left the room, shoulders shrunk and head ducked like he was expecting a blow, and it went against every one of Calum’s instincts to not run after him and hug him until he felt better. He couldn’t be sure it would help at all, and he couldn’t risk guessing wrong.
god, what was he going to do.
==
The door slammed shut behind Ashton, and he winced at the sound. The rain beat against the hallway windows; the hall itself was quiet, and Ashton was grateful because he’d forgotten his jacket. There was no going out in the deluge, so he went upstairs instead. Mali-Koa’s building was the sort of refurbished old building Ashton had never been in before-- Ashley’s building in Queens had been old, but the not-refurbished kind-- and it was more than enough to keep his mind distracted, admiring the building, until he reached the stairs to the roof. He didn’t bother trying it, disinterested in the rain as he was. He plopped down on the bottom step and instinctively pulled out his phone. If anyone asked, he was waiting for a friend, and if they stuck around too long, he was going to look for them.
He had a text from Ashley, he learned when he opened his phone. It read, are you being an idiot? Because he probably was, he closed the window and put his phone away. He had a lot of thoughts, mostly about kissing Calum and how he’d probably never do it again, and they made him somewhat fatigued to entertain; he entertained them anyway. Calum’s worry, and the potential worry of Luke and Michael, were excellent fodder for self-hatred. Ashton could imagine their faces: raw with worry, disappointment. It wasn’t surprising for Michael, not after sharing the same elbow room for months as they had, but Luke and Calum-- he’d known them for mere days and yet their faces were clear, every timbre of their voices memorized, all the things they’d say as easy to guess as if he’d known them as long as Ashley or even his family. Which didn’ explain why he was thinking the worst, why he could and did imagine their hurt, but there he was. Just being an idiot.
He was spared any further introspection by the roof door slamming open and a body tumbling through it. Ashton twisted in his seat and got a faceful of water for his troubles as the stranger shook themself-- or himself-- like a dog to shed the rain. He shed his hood to reveal a shock of gray-blonde hair and skipped down the stairs, oddly spry for his apparent age, and halted when he got to Ashton. “Somethin’ go your goat, kid?” He said, distinctly American.
Ashton, improvising, managed a shrug. “Just… soulmate stuff,” he said. That usually worked; especially from the unmarked to the marked, people seemed to get an aww and a sympathetic nod more than any real help. The spry American, to his credit, proved an exception to the rule: he gave Ashton one brief, hard look and sa down on the step next to him with a squelch of wet raingear.
“Tell me about it,” he said. “I’ve been marked for a good while myself, maybe some experience could help.”
“Statistically unlikely,” Ashton commented, then corrected himself, “that’s statistically unlikely, I mean. Apparently my situation is… extremely rare. By the numbers.” When he was young, more sure of his place in the world, Ashton had checked: polyamory in soulmates was extremely low. Spry American didn’t know all this, though, and he cocked an eyebrow for an explanation: Ashton sighed. “My soulmate situation is unique. Even accounting for diversity of sexuality, of gender, and platonic soulmates and stuff, my soulmate situation is extremely rare. Hence, that. I guess.” He flapped a hand, nevermind. The American nodded, thought about it a moment.
“So what’s your trouble?” He said.
“Aah,” Ashton stammered. “I-it’s complicated. Just, yeah. Complicated.”
“Not what you expected?” The American pressed. Ashton shook his head.
“Nah, I had a good idea of what I was getting into,” he replied. “I guess… I just didn’t want to think about it? Soulmates haven’t really panned out for the better in my family.”
“Aah,” The American said, and nodded several times. Then, “Broken home?”
“I-- yeah,” Ashton replied. It wasn’t as if he could say no-- this clever American reminded Ashton too much of himself, incredibly astute in regards to the fellow human. He’d know if Ashton old a lie, which surprisingly didn’t terrify Ashton so much as he possibility of disappointing the man if he did.
The American sighed, stretched, and shook is head, less vigorously than before. “That’s a hard life,” he said. “It does things to you. Makes you afraid to feel things, doesn’t it? Afraid to feel it, afraid to lose it.”
“Yeah,” Ashton said. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”
“Then let me advise you,” he American said, clapping a hand on Ashton’s shoulder. “And I mean what I say with all sincerity, okay, I’m not bullshitting you.” Ashton glanced upward and caught his gaze, and read honesty: he nodded.
“What is it?” He said.
“Let yourself love,” the American said. “No one ever tells you that love is a choice, especially when it comes to soulmates, but it’s true. It’s your call to make. Do you think your soulmate wants this? Do you think they’d try to make it work?”
“I do,” Ashton replied. “I think they’d try.” The words stuck in his throat, but Ashton knew without a doubt that it was true. If this trip had taught him anything, if he’d learned anything from actually knowing his soulmates, it was that they were determined to work. Despite everything-- all he holdbacks, all the weird, despite Ashton himself-- they were determined to work through it. And hell if Ashton didn’t think they’d work until it worked.
“Then make the call. You can run forever and be afraid, or choose to have faith… and let the bond you already share do its job.” The American reached out and tapped Ashton in the chest with his free hand, over his heart, like putting a period a the end of the statement. “Choose to love.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Ashton said softly.
“If it doesn’t work, you are welcome to track me down and kick me in the nuts for giving you false information,” The American replied, startling a laugh out of Ashton.
“Thanks,” he said. “For understanding. And having faith in… whatever the hell it is I’m doing. It means a lot.”
“No problem, buddy,” The American replied.
“Ashton,” Ashton said. “My name’s Ashton.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashton,” The American replied. “I’m Feldy.”
“Nice to meet you, Feldy,” Ashton said. “And, if you don’t mind… I think I need to talk to my soulmate.” He offered Feldy a smile, and the return spread across the man’s entire face.
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “Go on, lover boy, knock ‘em dead. But, you know, don’t kill anyone, I don’t think the Brits would appreciate it.” Ashton laughed, getting to his feet, and turned back to wave when he reached the corner. Feldy waved back.
After that, Ashton bounded down the stairs like he was trying to crack the sound barrier. At a few points it felt like he was flying, clearing obnoxious distance by simple merit of his excitement. He couldn’t hold it in. Two staircases, three; he landed on Mali-Koa’s floor and bounded to the door, questioning only at the last minute if he might be interrupting something.
Ah, fuck it. Ashton knocked. He knocked, twice, then three times, stupidly impatient. There was the sound of footsteps on the other side, and then the door flew open: Ashton flicked his eyes upwards just so and found himself swallowed in brown, brown, brown, but he pushed it aside. “Hi,” he said to Calum, breathless, and then he kissed him.
==
Calum’s brain exploded, but not really. He could process only so much at once: Ashton’s hands cupping his face, Ashton’s mouth smiling against Calum’s own, Calum’s hands around Ashton’s waist, and a sense of overwhelming happiness were all just too much to take in.
On top of everything, Ashton was still smiling when he pulled away.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” Calum replied. “You said that already.”
“I did, didn’t I,” Ashton said, sheepish. “Hi.”
Calum grinned. “Hi. Come in? My family’s here, but they won’t mind.” He laughed as Ashton’s expression turned horrified, and he glanced over Calum’s shoulder to where the rest of the Hoods were parked around the kitchen island-- including Calum’s dad, newly-discharged. Calum turned, too, to see all three of the other Hoods looking very amused. Mali waved.
“I am so sorry,” Ashton said. “I ran all the way down here and hammered on the door and I probably interrupted something important and I am so sorry.” He was going bright pink, from his shirt collar to the tops of his frankly quite attractive cheekbones, and someone was about to get very amused at his expense if someone didn’t do something.
“Hey, mum, dad,” Calum said. “Any chance you can celebrate without me for a second?” Mali-Koa rolled her eyes; his mother flapped her hand.
“Go on,” she said. “We’ll be just fine.” Mali-Koa was snickering. She was definitely snickering. Calum grabbed Ashton gently by the elbow, muttered, “just roll with it,” and started making for the back bedroom. Ashton didn’t need much encouragement; he in fact outstripped Calum and entered first, covering his face with his hands as soon as the door closed.
“Oh, my god,” he said. “First they think we’re sneaking off to make out, now this. I don’t remember the last time I felt so deviant. ” Calum laughed.
“And yet the appropriate times have little to no making out at all, for some reason,” he said dryly. Ashton dropped his hands to roll his eyes, hard.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said. “ But, ” he added, a smile creeping across the corner of his mouth, “I might have a solution to your problem.”
“I’m ridiculous and you’re a dork,” Calum shot back. Ashton’s dorky smile was doing something to his insides. “What’s your recommendation, doctor love?” Ashton’s smile spread into a full-out dorky grin. Then he stepped right into Calum’s personal space and said,
“Something like this.”
Calum wasn’t ready. With Luke it had been easy, once he’d gotten his head out of his ass, and with Michael it had been like breathing. With Ashton it was like he’d been holding his breath, and now he was getting a few lungfuls of air and it was everything. He could feel Ashton’s heart pounding where their chests pressed together, could feel Ashton’s hands digging into his hips, Ashton letting out a laugh every time they broke apart to breathe. That was really everything-- seeing, feeling, how happy Ashton was to be here and doing this.
After a minute, or maybe three minutes, when they broke apart Calum went for the hug instead of another round. Ashton took the hug, standing at his full height, actually embracing him instead of clinging like a lifeline. Calum was over the moon.
“Dad’s good,” he commented. “Whatever happened, he’s on the mend and discharged. And he and mum are going home in a couple of days. Whenever we need to, we can head back.”
“And face the music?” Ashton said, partially muffled by Calum’s shoulder.
“If you want to,” Calum replied firmly. “If you’re ready to.”
“I don’t know about ready ,” Ashton said. “But I want to try. Despite all that I want to prove Mali-Koa wrong.” Calum laughed.
“I think you failed that one about five minutes ago,” he said. “But, if you like, we can pretend to have a massive fight, and you can storm out and I can pretend to scour London for you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ashton replied, but he sounded like he was grinning. “I do appreciate the sport, though. Better idea-- let’s surprise Luke and Michael.”
“Ashton Irwin, you are a bad man,” Calum said. “I’ll take it.”
Ashton pulled out of the hug to offer Calum a high-five. Calum took that, too. Then he said, “You’re okay, right? You’ve got this under control?”
“I’m good,” Ashton said. “Swear I’m good.”
“Can I kiss you again before we go face my parents?” Calum said, and Ashton grinned.
“Go ahead.”
==
The next afternoon, Mali-Koa waved Ashton and Calum through the airport terminal. About eight hours after that (counting a layover in Shannon), Michael and Luke waved them back through the other way waving a sign that read SOULMATES PLURAL in large glittery letters. The two of them threw themselves on Ashton and Calum with a selection of high-pitched noises not usually heard from two grown men. (Mostly grown.) When Ashton finally broke free, he promptly confiscated the sign. Calum felt a swarm of butterflies take off in his chest at Ashton’s affectionate smile as he examined the sign, and a glance at Luke told him Luke was thinking about the same thing.
“Inside joke?” Ashton asked. Luke and Michael nodded, with matching sheepish expressions, and Ashton grinned. “I’m going to assume it’s a long story.”
“ Very long,” Michael agreed, and Calum wondered if either of them realized the ridiculous heart-eyes they were showing. They were adorable. And so far gone-- thought Calum, who was no better. Both of them might as well have hung the stars.
“We’ve got time,” he said. Luke made a noise, paired with a twitch of the eyebrows, that Calum recognized as here we fuckin go. Calum quickly added, “We should get our stuff first. Save the awkward story for the long-ass car ride back. Speaking of, how did you get here?”
“Borrowed Ashley’s car,” Luke replied, offering Calum a hung-the-stars smile. “Michael convinced her to let us while she was in class. But she made us promise to bring it back without a scratch, which totally threw off my plan to go parking as a welcome-home present.” Ashton snorted. Michael squawked.
“Think about the children !” He said. Luke smirked at him.
“You weren’t saying that last night.”
Michael swatted him. “Alright, fine, think about Ashton.”
“Yes, please, think about Ashton,” Ashton said, exchanging an amused glance with Calum. “Ashton just wants to go home and go to the sleep.”
Michael sniggered. “Go to the sleep.”
“Go to the sleep,” Luke repeated. “Right! Baggage claim!” He added, when Ashton arched an eyebrow at him. “Come on, Ash.” He looped his arm around Ashton’s and took off in the right direction; Michael and Calum followed at a more subdued pace, but not without Michael grabbing Calum’s hand and grinning at him. Calum grinned back.
I missed you, he mouthed. Michael ducked his head and squeezed Calum’s hand a bit tighter. “You seem to have gotten on pretty well with Luke while I was gone,” Calum added, and Michael’s grin turned impish.
“Oh, we got on great, ” he said, with maybe too much inflection. The eyebrow wiggle didn’t help. Calum shoved him. Up ahead, Ashton threw his head back and laughed; Michael beamed. Calum nudged him.
“Mikey, how long were you into Ashton before you found out you were soulmates?”
“Aesthetically? Right away,” Michael replied.”Guy walks into the room, first day, sweaty from carrying his shit up two flights of stairs… totally hot. Took a bit longer to fall for his demeanor, just cause he was a total grump.” He grinned.
“I heard that,” Ashton called back, and Michael’s eyes went wide for a half-second before he rolled them.
“Sure, babe,” he called forward.
“You wish,” Ashton shot back. Luke elbowed him.
They wandered around the baggage claim for a long moment, eyes peeled for the two most nondescript pieces of luggage Ashton and Calum could have chosen to haul around, before Luke’s sharp eyes caught them and he pulled them off the belt. He furthermore refused to let Ashton or Calum carry anything, although he did dump Calum’s bag off onto Michael. Michael thanked him with surprising composure for the level of sarcasm he was giving off, but when Ashton wasn’t looking he gave Luke a glare that made up for it. Calum wanted to tell them both to get a room, but instead he followed them all out into the New York afternoon sunshine and from there to Ashley’s tidy but decrepit car. Luke insisted on driving; Michael disagreed, which led to a round of rock-paper-scissors that Luke won. Michael swore all the way to the backseat and dragged Ashton with him as Luke and Calum put everything in the boot.
Before Calum claimed the shotgun seat, he followed Luke to the driver’s door and kissed him. Luke smiled against his mouth, and kept smiling when they broke apart. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Calum said. “Missed you.”
“You too,” Luke said. “Michael’s a great soulmate, but he’s a shit roommate.” Calum laughed and kissed him again, and then he opened the driver’s door for Luke. Luke climbed in and Calum crossed around to the shotgun seat; he closed the door as Luke started the car, and as they pulled out Calum offered his hand over the gearshift. Luke took it, and didn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
==
Luke dropped Ashton off first and Michael came with him, allegedly to “carry his shit.” He stayed after the initial hauling, however, and when Ashton crashed for a good hour (the flight had been no easier the second time around) he seemingly kept sticking around because he was still there when Ashton woke up: buried in homework and swearing every few seconds, but present all the same. He glanced over when Ashton sat up in bed, and smiled. “Hey. Sleep good?”
“I fucking hate planes,” Ashton grumbled, getting out of bed and bending down to press a quick kiss to Michael’s mouth before ambling off to the bathroom. When he got back, Michael was sitting in the same place and looking a little shell-shocked.
“Sorry, did I come on too strong?” Ashton said, amusing himself with the level of sarcasm he managed to infuse the sentence with. Michael rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, maybe a bit,” he shot back, but the corner of his mouth was drifting upward at a frankly alarming rate. He added, “So you’ve changed your mind?”
“Not changed it, no,” Ashton replied. “Just taken the next step. I think this whole soulmates thing has turned me into a kiss-at-the-first date kind of guy.” He was getting butterflies; it was a little uncomfortable. Michael’s smile spread into a full-sized grin. Ashton quickly added, “But you can’t tell anyone. It’s a surprise, and if you tell anyone--” he paused, looking for a suitable threat. “If you tell anyone, I’ll tell everyone you listen to Susan Boyle for recreational purposes.” Michael’s mischievous expression immediately switched to horrified.
“You wouldn’t ,” He said.
“Oh, I would,” Ashton said. “If you squeal…”
“I won’t, swear to god I won’t,” Michael said quickly. Ashton grinned.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” he said, brushing past Michael far too close and plopping down on Michael’s bed, “Tell me about your weekend.”
==
Calum and Luke dropped off Ashley’s car at her dorm and took the bus back to the apartment, exchanging a few soft worries about being able to take the bus after paying for a round trip to London and back. Luke suggested bicycles. “Ash takes a bike all the time, and it seems to be working.”
“Ash is a hippie who’s been riding a bike for years, for one,” Calum said dryly. “For another, you are not riding a bike home at 6 am after an eight-hour shift.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” Luke, both arms draped over Calum’s luggage and Michael-and-Luke’s sign, leaned his head against the window. Calum promptly felt jealous of the window. Luke added, “Ashton’s pretty badass, though.”
“Yeah, Ashton’s pretty badass,” Calum replied. A lot of things occurred to him as he said it: Ashton’s expression when Calum opened Mali-Koa’s door, right before Ashton kissed him. Ashton holding his hand when they hit a spot of turbulence on the way back and Calum temporarily lost the ability to breathe. Calum’s promise not to tell, not yet.
Make it a surprise.
Instead of telling, Calum reached out and grabbed Luke’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Luke’s expression was pleased enough to make up the difference. Calum carried his own luggage back upstairs when they got back to the apartment, and Alex’s grudging presence kept the reunion from getting at all freaky.
(“I knew we should have gone parking,” Luke told Calum, just loud enough that Alex could overhear it and choke on his beer.)
About thirty seconds later, Alex summoned them both to the sofa and asked Calum if anything had happened in London that he needed to know about.
“Why would there be,” Calum said. Before Alex could reply he added, “First of all, it’s none of your business. And second of all, see first of all.”
“It’s my goddamned business if it comes in my apartment,” Alex replied. “Jack, if he were here, would agree with me.”
“Please don’t be hypocritical about this,” Calum said. “Luke and I don’t complain every time you and Jack get freaky at 2 am.”
“Okay, in all fairness, we’re not actively telling you nothing’s happening and it’s not your business,” Alex shot back. Before Calum could say anything more, Luke’s hand closed over his shoulder. Calum didn’t need words to know that Luke meant leave it.
“Good point,” Calum said. “No, Alex, nothing’s happened that you need to know about. Yet.”
“I feel so reassured,” Alex said, and grabbed his beer off the table and took a long drink. Luke removed his hand from Calum’s shoulder; Calum twisted around to get a look at his face and caught him in the middle of relaxing. Calum got up and gestured to Luke to follow; waving a quick farewell to Alex they left the room, and Calum halted them at the stairwell.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I walked myself into that and I’m sorry you had to be there. I know you hate it when Alex and I piss each other off.” Luke nodded, and Calum recognized tension in his jaw and neck.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “It’s okay, I just. I really hate it when you guys fight.”
“In my defense, he has it coming,” Calum replied.
“So do you.”
Calum recognized the appropriate time to be ashamed. “Yeah, you’ve go me here.” Luke snorted and opened his arms; Calum mirrored the gesture and leaned in, and they hugged. It was a nice hug, especially considering the context and the fact that Calum hadn’t hugged Luke for the better part of a week. (Five days. Close enough.) then they went back and found Alex, who’d unsurprisingly turned on the xbox in their absence.
“You kiss and make up?” He said, not looking up from Assassin’s Creed. Calum hmm ed the affirmative.
“Shame it’s not that easy with you,” He added, and Luke and Alex both snorted. Alex paused the game and put it on multiplayer. Luke and Calum briefly grappled for the other controller, and Luke won because Calum was a sap. to make up for his loss he sat behind Luke with his arms and legs wrapped around him and muttered suggestions. A few of them earned him an elbow in the gut, which should have been more of a deterrent (Luke’s elbows were pointy).
After Alex had died for the fifth time and Luke for the seventh, Calum brought up the possibility of going out with Michael and Ashton, properly. He suggested it to Luke in a low voice as Alex swore in free-form verse, and Luke liked the idea so much he bounced up and down in his seat and almost dropped his controller. Alex told them both to get a handle on it and resumed the game, and as Luke died horrifically for the eighth time Calum texted Michael and Ashton with the idea.
==
“We just finished a round-trip to London, what makes him think we can afford a date ?” Ashton grumbled, finishing reading the text aloud to Michael. Michael just snorted and turned a page in his textbook.
“Tell him we’re in, but it’s my treat,” he said. “ I haven’t been on any airplanes recently.”
“I’m not your messenger boy,” Ashton replied. Before he could add anything else Michael interrupted in an exaggerated Scottish accent, “I’m a delivery boy,” and Ashton groaned.
“We are having a serious talk about logistics, this is not a time to be quoting Shrek!” He complained. Michael promptly cackled.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please go on.”
“I was just gonna tell you to text him yourself,” Ashton said.
“Oh, yeah. Sure, fuck you, Ash,” Michael said absentmindedly, putting down his pen and picking up his phone. He shot off what looked like a text to Calum and put it back down, sticking his tongue out at Ashton like a closing statement before going back to his homework. He was making an impressive go on it, and Ashton wondered if he’d lost a bet or if he was about to fail a class for that level of productivity. Of course, Ashton didn’t have much room to talk after missing three days of classes.
He picked up his phone and added a reply to Calum’s dinner invitation. i have class later. meet after 6?
Then he went back to his homework. At 5:22 he checked to make sure his suggestion had been fielded and found affirmation from Luke and Calum both; Michael had texted back, nerd.
“I’m sitting right here,” Ashton called over. Michael cackled again. Ashton shook his head and went to find his shoes. “I’m meeting Ashley before class. See you at dinner?”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “We’re meeting at that burger place down on 4th, where Harry took you on your disastrous one and only date. Would that be uncool? I mean, the food’s amazing, but we can go somewhere else if it brings up bad memories.”
“Nah, I trust your judgement on the great food thing,” Ashton replied, pulling on his shoes. “6 or fashionably late?”
“Sounds good,” Michael said. “See you then.” He turned around in his chair to offer a farewell smile, and Ashton returned it. Then he crossed the room to kiss him goodbye properly, and left Michael grinning like an idiot.
He met Ashley on the quad, on the picnic table where she’d once told him he wasn’t a shitty human being-- and by once, he meant the better part of two weeks ago. She gave him an amazing hug and asked him how he was.
“I’m good,” he said. “So far I’ve kissed both Michael and Calum and both of them think they’re the only ones who know, which is kind of hilarious. And London was pretty, I think you’d have liked it. It’s like New York, but older and stuffier.” Ashley laughed.
“Sounds great,” she said. “And you sound like you’re enjoying yourself with this whole soulmate thing.”
“It’s going better than I’d hoped,” Ashton said. “What about you? Are you doing alright? Luke mentioned you’d seemed ill a few days ago.”
“S’just the lows again,” Ashley said, with a shrug. “I was due, anyway. Too many good weeks in a row.”
“That doesn’t justify anything,” Ashton said. “But are you feeling any better?”
“A little bit,” Ashley said, fiddling with her jacket sleeve. Ashton glanced down to her twitchy hands and back up to her face and said,
“Taylor. You were weird around Taylor last week. Taylor Swift’s your soulmate.”
Ashley’s smile broadened into a cheesy happy grin. “Yeah. I’m soulmates with the coolest girl on campus, kiss my ass.” Ashton laughed and punched her in the arm, lightly, wondering whether another hug was appropriate or not.
“Can I see?” He said. “Is it… appropriate?” Halsey laughed, nodded, and pulled up her jacket sleeve. A cluster of roses, complete with thorns and vivid red blooms, wound around her forearm just below the elbow.
“They look scary,” Ashton commented, when he’d admired them for what he thought was the appropriate span of time. Ashley smiled and shrugged, pulling her sleeve back down.
“I gave her a blue moon,” she said. “We fell into each other-- literally, thanks-- at one of her parties last week. She grabbed my arm, I almost punched her in the gut. It was awkward, to say the least.”
“And it won’t even make a good story to tell drunk,” Ashton mused. “Not that mine will, either.”
“You lived with your soulmate for three months before resolving, that’s gonna make a pretty great drunk story,” Ashley argued. “Anyway, I’m not horribly bummed out about the whole thing. I do feel bad for Ella, though. She and Taylor had been dating for a while before I came along.”
“Sucks for Ella,” Ashton said. “Of all the break-up stories to have, that one sucks. Not that it’s your fault, or anything.”
“Or anything,” Ashley agreed. “Anyway. Class?”
“Class is good,” Ashton said. “In the long run, anyway. We should go before we’re late to class or something.” He offered the crook of his elbow. Ashley shoved his arm, gathered up her things, and they set off.
==
Ashton arrived to dinner ten minutes after everyone else, with a dark damp circle around the collar of his shirt.
“I came as fast as I could,” he said. “Traffic’s not bad today.”
“You bicycled to a date ,” Michael deadpanned, scooting over to let Ashton into his booth. Ashton slid in and smiled at Luke, who offered a smile back. Then Ashton smiled at Calum, and Calum’s stomach kind of imploded.
“Good class?” He said, for want of anything intelligent to say. Ashton shrugged.
“Not awful,” he replied. “I share it with Ashley, which helps negate some boredom. Good afternoon?”
“Yeah, a real nailbiter,” Calum replied, ducking as Luke tried to flag down the waiter. “I got to watch Luke crash and burn at Assassin’s Creed for the better part of three hours. It was real exciting.” Luke kicked him. Calum rubbed his foot against Luke’s calf in retaliation. The waiter appeared and asked Ashton what he wanted to drink. Ashton ordered a soda. Michael ordered a round of burgers. The soda came first; Michael entertained them all with all the dumb things he and Luke did while they were gone as they waited for actual food. He wound up neck-deep in a narrative about their experiences cooking with Alex and Jack by the time any sign of dinner was made; he didn’t even stop to take a breath as Ashton and Luke accepted the several huge baskets of fries, even though Luke was almost laughing too hard to handle anything.
“...So then Jack says, ‘we’re gonna need more glitter’, and Alex comes up with some shit about us not needing to be any more flamboyant. Next thing you know, Luke and I are done up in glittery cowboy vests from god-knows-where and Alex looks like he needs a drink. And on top of all this, the pie’s burning and I don’t know why Tyler needed the campus kitchen sink to wash off all that body paint but I don’t think I want to. Oh, thanks, Luke.” Luke had finally interrupted Michael by shoving a french fry at his face. Michael snapped at it, caught it in his teeth, and snatched it from Luke, enjoying his success by eating the fry.
“Did you seriously eat the pie afterwards?” Calum said, grabbing the ketchup just as Luke reached for it. Luke snorted.
“Fat chance,” he said. “Alex gave it a viking funeral. Jack cried. It was amazing.”
“It’s true,” Michael said. “He cried on my shoulder as Alex did the deed. What a heartless bastard.” He said it with a mouthful of hamburger, so Calum didn't put too much stock in whatever bitterness was sticking around. “So what did you guys do? Five days all on your lonesome, must've been interesting?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Ashton, in the middle of taking a drink, choked and spat out half his mouthful onto his hamburger.
“ No, ” he said, as Calum and Luke laughed and Michael just looked smug. “We explored a bit. And talked. A bit.”
“What kind of talking?” Michael said, with another completely unsubtle eyebrow twitch. Ashton’s face started to turn incredibly pink. Calum kicked Michael under the table.
“Back off before he combusts,” he said. Michael immediately dragged his foot up Calum’s leg in retaliation, which at least was better than needling Ashton. Ashton shot him a grateful smile. Luke shot him a curious look out the corner of his eye as he took a bite of hamburger. Calum took a bite before anyone could ask him anything else (although he suspected the action wouldn’t deter Michael if Michael felt so inclined). Thankfully, most of them were eat-and-don’t talk types, and after burgers stole their attention they stopped talking for a good while. (“Burgers stole their attention. Calum could be talking about a dog-- Burgers was a good name for a dog. How against a dog named “Burgers” would Alex be, Calum wondered.)
Dinner was demolished and Michael ordered a round of milkshakes in the place of beer, which Ashton seemed grateful for. They talked and shouted and laughed and Michael made Ashton spit out a mouthful of milkshake, and something tense in Calum’s stomach that he hadn’t even known was there unraveled. Michael paid the bill and they packed up their party, half an hour before closing time; they walked back to the bus stop to see Michael and Ashton off back to campus, and Ashton kissed Calum and Luke goodbye in turn. When he got to Luke, Luke looked like he might faint with happiness.
“So maybe you did talk about something in London,” he said.
“Nah,” Ashton said, smiling fit to burst, and kissed him again for good measure. Luke looked like he might float away on the breeze: a stupidly happy six-foot-four fairy man. Calum didn’t think he’d ever been happier to have such a pack of idiots for soulmates.
“Come on,” he told Luke after Michael and Ashton had left, snagging Luke’s hand with his and nuzzling into his neck. “Let’s go home.”
“I like the sound of that,” Luke said. “Home. Sleep. I don’t want to go to work.”
“Then don’t,” Calum said, pulling away and tugging Luke along as he started walking. Luke made a grumbly noise and followed, catching up just enough to drape himself over Calum’s shoulder.
“I have to,” he said. “It’s called being a responsible adult, or whatever.”
“Responsible adult, my ass,” Calum said. Luke made another grumbly noise and leaned more heavily on him.
“It’s more an aspiration than a reality,” he said. Calum laughed.
“One day, Luke,” he said. “One day.”
==
Things had a tendency to fall into place, Ashton learned, when he wasn’t running away from fate. When his heart and mind and soul were all in agreement. They were just… things were right. He could roll out of bed first thing in the morning and kiss Michael on the top of the head, knowing he’d be awake and happy to see Ashton when he returned from his run; he could run down to the radio station and see Luke home, and Luke would kiss him when they got there, and Calum would join him for a mile or two and they’d get coffee, and he’d kiss Ashton goodbye before they parted ways again. Ashton’s life molded itself around them, Michael and Luke and Calum, and got better as it did.
When the school year ended, Ashton flew home for a week to visit his family and found himself sharing a flight with Luke and Calum-- and Michael, who had decided he wasn’t going to be left behind and instead was going to stay with Calum the whole time.
“The whole time, ” he insisted. “He won’t be able to get away from me. He goes to take a piss, I’ll be there. Watching.” He wiggled his eyebrows, which Ashton didn’t really think was the appropriate expression, but it had Luke and Calum laughing.
“You know,” he said, “While you’re there, you don’t have to stay with Calum the whole time. You’ve got two whole other soulmates with families who I’m sure would love to meet you. I can’t bet on my mum, but--” he broke off and made a face, and all three of his soulmates burst out laughing. In the driver’s seat, Ashley snorted.
“I might take that offer,” Michael said, settling back into his seat. Luke took the opportunity to rest his head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael looked stupidly pleased. Ashton turned back to face the front before he got any more carsick.
On the plane, Calum slept. Luke slept on top of him, or partially, with his head on Calum’s shoulder and one leg draped over Calum’s lap. Michael on the other hand refused to let go of Ashton’s hand from the jostle of take-off ‘til halfway through the flight, when he used the bathroom. Then he came back in a hurry and didn’t let go of Ashton’s hand until they landed and the seatbelt sign shut off, when Luke and Calum woke up in unnerving sync and the stewardess told Ashton his boyfriend was adorable.
“Yeah, he is,” Ashton said, in unnerving sync with Luke and Calum. The stewardess congratulated all of them and showed them her marks, thick bands on the inside of both wrists. Michael asked her if she was an activist, with obvious interest.
“My mum has a mark like that,” he said. “Met dad at a political rally.” He said it with a sheepish look at Ashton and Calum (Luke was in the window seat, too far back to see). The stewardess admitted she wasn’t, not really, but only because it was tricky to get into it when she was on a plane every other day.
“I ought to give it a shot, though, considering,” she added, and everyone laughed. Then they all told her goodbye and good luck and they went home, and Ashton’s family was waiting.
His mother loved Michael, when she met him, and Luke and Calum, although she met them a few days late. And Luke dragged Ashton over to meet his family, which comprised of two obnoxious elder brothers and the sweetest parents (that weren't Ashton's) that he'd ever met, and the Hemmings family insisted that the families meet for Christmas because soulmates or something.
“We’ve been doing it with Cal’s family for years,” Luke explained later. “I figure at this point they don't want to give it up.”
“Does this mean I should call my parents in for Christmas?” Michael asked, and Luke shrugged.
“If you like,” he said.
Ashton met Michael's mind, opinionated, somewhat distant parents over Christmas and decided preemptively that he was going to give by far the best first impression. He was probably successful, considering that Luke spent most of the afternoon leading up to Christmas dinner helping his mother and Michael in the kitchen and Calum was busy play-arguing with Mali-Koa when the door opened. Loudly.
“Best. Christmas. Ever,” Lauren said, in the car on the way home. “Ash, if you don't, like, marry them and ensure that all our Christmases from now on are that cool, I will… I’ll marry them myself.”
“Hands off my soulmates,” Ashton retorted. “They’re mine. My destiny, or whatever.” Lauren laughed.
“Sounds like they're good for you,” she said. Ashton shrugged, caught between bashful and stupidly happy.
“Yeah, I think they are,” he said.
The next morning Ashley sent him pictures from Taylor Swift's posh Christmas dinner at her home in Nashville. I keep wondering if someone's going to kick me out on the assumption that im stealing silverware, she joked, and when Ashton asked after her wellbeing she said she was doing good. Really good.
also im blonde now, she added. tell michael to top that.
dont encorage him, hell lose all his hair, Ashton replied. hes already decided red is way more festive than purple.
is it hot?? Ashley asked.
way hot, Ashton replied.
geeeeet iiiiiiiiit
==
The new apartment was nice, when they got to it: A one-room shoebox with enough wall space for a shitload of instruments and enough floorspace for a kit and a sofa, a kitchen to entertain Michael's mad notions, and a street address less than a block from the bus stop and from Jalex’s. Ashton and Calum ran out together to see Luke home every morning; from his previous neighbors Ashton heard a mess of hilarity for moving in with a roommate he'd supposedly hated.
“First of all, I didn't hate him, and second of all he's my soulmate,” he told Lynn after the third joke. “So spread that rumor, will you. And lay off Michael, it's not as funny to him as you would assume.” Lynn raised her eyebrows and backed off. After the sixth or seventh crack, it was over. Michael breathed a loud sigh of relief and went back to Portal like the whole ordeal had never happened.
“Has anyone seen the fucking paprika?”
“No one touches your goddamn paprika, Mikey,” Calum called from his seat on the couch. Luke, sprawled gracelessly on top of him with his feet resting next to Ashton’s thigh, grunted agreement. Ashton looked up from his copy of Nietzsche, swallowed embarrassment, and called, “I cleaned out the cabinets this week, Mike, so it should be there but not exactly where you left it. Sorry.”
“Wow, Ash, for shame,” Michael shouted, and through the kitchen door Ashton could see him reach a little further into the cabinet, swear once, and retrieve the small red bottle Ashton recognized as paprika. “Thanks, babe!”
“No problem,” Ashton called back, and went back to his book. It wasn’t particularly easy to get through before, but embarrassment made it worse. “Sorry, again.”
“Hey, babe, no biggie,” Michael called back. “I was in a serious fucking hurry, I freaked out, all that shit. My bad.” Ashton glanced up and saw him stirring the saucepan probably a bit fast, but he was probably making up for lost time looking for spices. “Hey, warn me next time? Probably be better for both our dinners that way.”
“Can do,” Ashton replied, and closed his book. Luke glanced away from the ceiling, landed his eyes on Ashton, and flopped over from Calum’s lap to Ashton’s.
“S’all good, babe,” he said.
“I know it’s all good,” Ashton replied, shoving Luke’s shoulder with one hand as he dropped his book on the end table. Luke fixed him with an unimpressed look, complete with eyebrow twitch. Ashton shoved him again, but gently. Luke made a few air-kisses at him and looked up at the ceiling again.
“Something on your mind, Lukey?” Ashton asked. Luke, eyes fixed on the ceiling, made a funny hmm ing noise and shrugged. His shoulders dug into Ashton’s thighs.
“Just, you know, soulmate stuff,” he said. “The future. True love. Also I slept pretty shittily today, Burgers came in around nine and made some shit-ton of noise.”
“I already said I was sorry!” Calum said, apparently not as immersed in his phone as Ashton had thought. Luke kicked him and retorted, “And I forgave you. Doesn’t mean Burgers doesn’t need to be trained to leave people the fuck alone when they’re sleeping.”
“Hey, be nice to Burgers!” Michael called. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“Has he woken you up lately, Michael?”
“Touché.” Michael fell silent. Luke went on, “Anyway, just deep introspective things. Fate. Destiny.”
“A horse?” Ashton said. Luke snorted. Calum snorted. Ashton grinned, triumphant in random Disney references.
“ Anyway, ” Luke said, “All that. It’ll probably make for great 3 am radio ramblings, but not great conversation.”
“I like hearing about your weird thoughts,” Ashton said. Luke smiled. Calum said, “Yeah, Ash, but you’re as weird as he is.”
“Wow, it’s like we were meant to be or something,” Luke said. Calum laughed, and Ashton was suddenly and overwhelmingly fond of both of them.
“Mikey, how’s it coming?” He called.
“FUCK OFF, YOU WILL GET FOOD WHEN YOU GET FOOD.”
“We were having a moment, I wanted to include you!” Ashton said around a giggle. Trying to talk and laugh at once, he started coughing. Calum reached over and patted him on the back, hard.
“Breathe! Breathe! ” He said. Luke started laughing. Ashton recovered long enough to push Calum’s hand away, and then started wheezing again. Michael appeared in the doorway shouting about ruining their dinner, still wearing his lurid polka-dotted oven mitts.
“How do you idiots even survive,” he deadpanned. Luke rolled off of Ashton's lap onto the floor, still laughing, and beamed at Michael. “Tru-- True love,” he managed to say.
“And they say life after marking isn't that magical,” Michael sighed. Calum snorted again and said,
“They didn't see us last night.” Ashton and Michael both groaned.
“I can't believe I abandoned the soup for this,” he said. “See you assholes in a minute, and if the soup takes any more harm by your obnoxious hands all of you are sleeping on the couch tonight.” He flounced out.
“You abandoned the soup for true love, Michael!” Calum called. Michael didn't even turn around; he flipped the bird over his shoulder on the way to the stove. Burgers bounded out of the bedroom, clearly just woken up from his nap and thrilled about it, and jumped onto Luke's back. Luke’s groan of shock and pain brought them all back to reality for about thirty seconds.
“Burgers!” Calum said. “Shame on you, you… you adorable little… dog. That wasn’t cool.”
“I feel so validated,” Luke groaned, rolling over onto his back and throwing Burgers in the process. The dog recovered quickly, rolling over once and bounding over to Calum. It figured: Calum was too much of a sucker to say no, and moments later there was a dog on the couch. Ashton wasn’t that against dogs (better than cats, unfortunately) but he joined Luke on the floor just to spite Burgers. Not that Burgers cared: he was too busy enjoying the wellspring of Calum’s affection.
“We’ve been betrayed,” Luke said to Ashton in a loud whisper. “For a dog. ”
“I heard that,” Calum protested. “Burgers, go bother Mikey.” He set the dog down on the floor and Burgers skittered off, ducking under the kitchen table and bouncing around Michael’s legs. Calum slid off the sofa and joined Luke and Ashton on the floor.
“Here I am,” he said. “Use me as you will.”
“As you wish,” Luke deadpanned, and lay down in his lap.
“That was not what I was expecting,” Calum commented, but buried one hand in Luke’s hair anyway. Ashton decided to reward his acquiescence by leaning over and kissing up the side of his neck. Calum promptly scrunched up his shoulders and the corners of his eyes, pleased with the turn of events as it was. Neither of them got far, however, as Michael called them all in for dinner.
“And don’t make me say it twice, or I’ll eat without you,” he added. All three of them got up off the floor and made for the kitchen with Luke in the lead, but Michael beat them all; he was sitting with his feet on Calum’s chair and Burgers in his lap when they arrived, prevailing over four bowls of soup and looking very smug.
“Told you I could do it,” he said.
“Oh my god, Mikey, it smells amazing,” Calum said, pushing Michael’s feet off his chair and sitting down. “Like, I may die from hunger in the next twelve seconds amazing.”
“Please don’t,” Ashton protested as he and Luke sat down. “I don’t think we’re meant to go through life with just three of us.” He grinned at Michael as he sat down and added, “It does smell great, Mikey.”
“Would’ve smelt better if I didn’t have to delay looking for the paprika,” Michael quipped, but there was no venom in it. “What, Luke, no sultry compliments?”
“I’m not entirely sure sultry and soup fit in a sentence together,” Luke replied, picking up his spoon. “I could be wrong, though.”
“I’m still surprised you’re talking about the soulmate stuff so freely, Ash,” Calum said. “What, is fate not looking so scary to you anymore?”
“Why would fate look scary to me?” Ashton asked, taking a bite (if one could call it a bite ) of soup. “You’re my fate. And I couldn’t be happier about it.”