Chapter Text
They say nothing good happens after 2am.
You’d beg to differ.
2am is the perfect quiet time, the time to sit and just be. The time where no want wants attention, or needs anything, no demands and no schedules. Two hearts can just exist together, two souls can rest and enjoy the peace that sits between them.
It’s warm in LA tonight, spring thick in the air. The sky is clear; every star seems to wink at you as if they know. As if they can tell how precious these moments are to you. The city seems to hush itself, as if it knows too. It’s quiet and tranquil and he looks so utterly at ease it makes you heart twist with joy.
Freshly showered, slightly tipsy, hazy post-sex aura buzzing around him as he leans against the railing wearing low slung sweats and an old cotton tee. His un-styled hair dances gently in the slight breeze; he looks so damn soft and snuggle-worthy you can’t help but leave your perch on the deck chair and slink up beside him. As easy as breathing he makes room for you in front of the rail, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on the top of your head. A position you have not grown tired of since first falling into it.
“Good show tonight,” he breaks the serene silence, but it’s never a bad thing when his honey voice fills it. “Nice to play at home.”
“You guys were amazing,” you agree, a smile gracing your lips at the memories of a few hours previously. “The new songs sound great live.”
“Hmmmmm,” he hums in agreement, and you feel him nuzzle his face into your hair. “I could tell you were enjoying them. You busted out your best dance moves and everything.”
“Hey,” you giggle, slapping his arm playfully. “No making fun of my dance moves, drummer boy. These hips do not lie.”
He spins you around so you’re facing him, your hands coming to rest on his broad chest. He’s grinning down at you saucily, that tell tale gleam shining in his hazel eyes.
“Don’t I know it,” he waggles his eyebrows, and you barely have time to huff out a laugh before his large hands are cupping your face and bringing your mouth up to his.
He tastes like tequila, mint and coming home, and you melt into him. Everything always seems to fall into place when he’s here and in your arms, like you didn’t even realize something was wrong until he fixed it with moments like this.
He pulls back after a moment, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “I miss this so fucking bad when I’m gone,” he whispers, thumbs caressing your cheeks gently. “I miss you so much sometimes, I can barely stand it.”
“I miss you too, Ash,” you curl your fingers into his shirt, nuzzling your nose softly against his.
“Sometimes I get so scared I’m gonna come home and you aren’t going to be here,” his voice shakes with the doubt you know plagues him when he’s gone. He comes off so confident and sure, but you know the soft and tender heart that lies in his chest. “I’m away so much, I wouldn’t blame you if you ever thought it wasn’t worth it, if-“
“Hush now,” you coo, pulling away slightly so you can see his face clearly. His eyes are open, and the quiet fear in them makes your whole being hurt. “Our life can be hard, yes, but you know I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love you with everything I have. This is worth it, you are worth it. My darling, beautiful boy, you are so worth it. And I will spend every day of my life, as long as you’ll have me, making sure you know it.”
He sighs, and you can see the fear slowly bleeding out of his gaze. “That may be a very long time, sweet girl.” He removes his hands from your face so he can wrap his arms around your waist. “A very, very long time.”
You smile, and your heart bounces with joy when his warm boyish grin spreads across his face. “I’m in it to win it, drummer boy.”
He shakes his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Such a way with words. Fuck, but I do love you.” He kisses you again, deeply, and your happy heart ignites inside your chest. You clutch each other close, mouths becoming hungrier and hungrier, the spring air around you beginning to feel a lot warmer. Breaths come shorter, hands grope and slide in growing desperation to feel skin.
He breaks away first, breathing heavily, eyes bright and once again mischievous. “So... round two then?” He squeezes your waist playfully for emphasis. You look up at him, kiss stung and rumpled and perfect. You couldn’t love him more.
“Save a drum, bang a drummer,” you shrug, grinning, and his joyful laugh lights up the night sky like Fourth of July fireworks.
They are so wrong.
Everything good happens after two am, when you’re in love.