Work Text:
This is not what Ashton thought his job would be like. He was supposed to make coffee for his boss, greet politely every guest of his and occasionally make a few phone calls, here and there. What he did not expect to do was carrying a shit load of heavy boxes, not even knowing what was inside. After first five, he thinks it could be just some light Christmas decorations. Sighing, he takes another box and frowns a bit, seeing “GLASS FOR THE PARTY. CAREFUL.” written on it in big, white letters. He stands there, looking at it for solid three minutes, not noticing people around him giving him weird looks.
Ah, the party. He tries to remember what Mr. Hemmings told him a week ago about it. Something about celebrating Christmas, maybe? He’s not sure, all he rememberes from that day is himself texting Michael to stay home and not get his ass drunk for the third time that week.
(He had to take the next day off, to take care of his hangover friend.)
After another couple of moments, finally giving up, he carries the box to the main hall, trying hard not to bump into anyone. Not that he can help it, the box is kind of in front of his eyes. All he can do is to look at his feet not to fall. Imagine how surprised he is when he feels someone knocking him down.
(Spoiler alert: he isn’t.)
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, looking up to see how much glass he broke. He furrows his eyebrows, not seeing broken glass anywhere. Confused, he slowly gets up, rubbing his hurt head gently.
“God, I’m sorry,” he hears a low voice. He looks up and see a tall boy around his age, standing in front of him with his box in his hands. Ashton wants to be mad and shout at him for being clumsy, but he can’t bring himself to do it. It would be like scolding a puppy, honestly. He’s thinking about what he should say next, when the boy speaks again. “I’m such a klutz, sorry. I didn’t see you, I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose, I’m-“
“Hey, stop apologizing, yeah? Look, I’m fine, see?” he waves his hand around him as to show him he was alright. His head still hurts a little, but now he is able to focus on the boy in front of him. He has a blonde quiff, ice-blue eyes and, God, is that a lipring? Ashton automatically bites his lip, looking down to see the boy is wearing a simple black shirt and black skinny jeans. He isn’t surprised when he doesn’t see a little paper tree pinned to his shirt, something every guest was expected to have, as it still is two hours until the party. And even though Ashton hasn’t worked there for long and doesn’t know everyone, he is sure he wouldn’t forget such a beautiful face. Who could?
“So,” he starts again, when the boy doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t want him to walk away, not when Ashton isn’t sure if he will ever see him again. He still hasn’t figure out who the boy could be, but it doesn’t matter. “You know, if you wanted to help that much, there’s still a few boxes left, right there,” he points to the direction he came from, smiling cheekily at the boy, who’s still holding the glass.
The boy’s eyes widen in realization and he quickly gives him the box back, a blush slowly creeping on his face. “Yeah, uh, sorry,” he says once again and Ashton can’t help but roll his eyes. This boy obviously doesn’t feel comfortable here.
And that’s when it hits him. Suddenly, everything is clear and Ashton finally knows who the boy is. The firm must have hired him to help organize the party, yes, that must be it. Ashton smiles, mentally congratulating himself for being so smart.
“It’s all good, mate. So, what are you doing here?” he asks, trying not to sound rude, he’s just curious, really. “Shouldn’t you be, like, helping with stuff?”
The boy looks at him for a second, clearly confused, but he nods anyway. Ashton just raises his eyebrow, waiting for his answer. A minute later, the boy still hasn’t said anything, and Ashton feels really uncomfortable, so he takes the box in the other hand.
Suddenly, it feels like there are just huge rocks inside.
“Helping with stuff, yeah,” the boy finally says, nodding his head again. He laughs, clearly relaxing and dear God, if it isn’t the most beautiful thing Ashton has ever heard in his life. “I guess I should,” he chuckles, shaking his head a little. “You need a hand?”
Okay, this is not what Ashton expects. He thought the boy would blush again and quietly get to work. Or even shout at him for telling him what to do. But that Ashton isn’t ready for. He quickly gets himself together and smiles at the boy. “Sure thing. Just take one of these and follow me.”
The boy is back after two minutes and thirty seven seconds. Not that Ashton is counting, of course.
(Except he totally is.)
“I’m Ashton, by the way, Ashton Irwin” he says, trying to sound casually, even though all he can think about was the fact that the boy’s legs could’ve won an award or something. He can even think of a suitable prize.
“Nice to meet you, Ash-“ the boy starts, a small sigh cutting him off, as he almost drops his box – Ashton notices he didn’t get one with glass – and Ashton blushes a little at the nickname. “-ton,” Maybe not a nickname, then. “My name’s Lucas,” he introduces himself and turns to him, looking at his hands helplessly and Ashton guesses he is trying to shake his hand, which he finds absolutely adorable, but don’t tell Michael. “Just call me Luke,” he adds, giving Ashton a small smile, which shows his dimple and Ashton is more than sure he died at that moment.
Ashton just nods, unable to speak and they walk in silence for the rest of the time, with occasional grunts from Ashton and Luke humming quietly some song that sounded weirdly familiar.
“Oh God,” Ashton moans a few seconds later, rolling his eyes so hard everyone in the building can probably feel it. He must’ve picked it up from Michael, he thinks. “It’s the new Taylor Swift song, isn’t it?” he asks, staring at Luke as if he was an idiot.
Luke just shrugs and smiles a little, even though Ashton can see his neck growing red. He decides not to make another comment, but Luke’s already stopped. And Ashton is really glad, because he hates Taylor Swift.
(At least that’s what he tells Michael.)
They put the last boxes in the main hall, when a woman approaches them and for a moment Ashton’s scared she’s going to yell at him for borrowing one of the staff guys, but she doesn’t even look at him, which makes him a bit surprised. He’s not complaining, though. She goes straight to Luke and looks him in the eye, a small smile on her lips.
“Lucas?” they hear her saying and Luke finally tears his eyes off Ashton, who didn’t even notice, to look at her expectantly. Ashton thinks it’s a little rude, seeing as she’s higher in the firm hierarchy, but he just looks at them with an amused smirk. I mean, it’s Helena, and everyone Ashton knows is scared of her. Especially when she starts swearing at them in Polish and none of them understands. Luke doesn’t seem a bit stressed, though.
“Something’s wrong, Mrs. Novak?” he asks politely, but Ashton knows he’s bored and the woman is clearly annoying him. He has a blank face and keeps wrinkling his nose in the cutest way possible. But Ashton isn’t that creepy, he hasn’t learned that in two hours, give him some credit. Luke told him that little fun fact himself.
(Right after Ashton told him his favorite shirt was the one with My Little Pony print on it.)
The woman fakes a smile and Ashton notices she nearly rolled her eyes, which makes him confused. Nothing stopped her from showing everyone how much better she thinks she is before. “Everything’s splendid, though you didn’t have to help, Lucas. Oh, and Mr. Hemmings is looking for you,” she adds, her widening smile starts to freak Ashton out. He forces himself to move his eyes from her to something more pleasant. Like Luke’s face, yeah, it’s a pretty face.
It’s frowning at the moment, though, and that’s when Ashton fully processes what she just said. Why was his boss looking for Luke? He’s positive they didn’t do anything wrong and he tried hard to stay out of Mr. Hemmings’ way today.
“Is he? Shit, I gotta go Ash,” he apologizes and Ashton isn’t even mad or sad, because this time he actually does call him ‘Ash’ and it makes him feel some sort of warmth in his stomach. “See you later?” he asks and without waiting for an answer, he turns around and walks away quickly, leaving Ashton with a slightly open mouth. He wants to shout after him, to tell him he forgot to give him his number, anything. But no words leave his lips as he sighs and looks at the floor.
He wants to punch himself for being so stupid, but instead he just takes his phone out, deciding to text Michael. He’s about to send his message when he hears Mrs. Novak speaking to him.
“Get your shit together, Irwin, it’s only ten minutes until the party starts,” she doesn’t hide her annoyance anymore, frowning as she looks at his Blink 182 shirt and ripped jeans. “Make yourself presentable, please, “ she adds after a moment and turns around, looking for another victim. She shakes her head when she sees a girl wearing a skirt shorter than Ashton’s middle finger, which makes him a little sick. “Honestly, kids these days. I swear to God, za komuny było lepiej,” he hears her saying and watches with a smile as she scolds the girl and makes her run out of the hall.
He deletes ‘mike get your ass in here now’ and changes it to ‘hey can you get me my grey shirt on your way here?’ before sending the text to his best friend. But it’s not because Helena told him to, never. He doesn’t need her to tell him what to do. He just feels like wearing a shirt tonight, that’s all.
(And maybe he kind of hopes Luke will be there, judging by his ‘see you later’.)
But he’s not. Luke’s not there and Ashton’s annoyed, and he hates this shirt, and he hates Michael for bringing it, and he hates Helena for screaming at Mike because of his red hair, and he hates this stupid party, and he hates everyone in here because they’re not Luke. But most of all, he hates Luke for leaving him hanging like that.
Except he doesn’t.
He knows his boss is looking for him, thanks to Helena, but he hates him for taking Luke away from him. He knows it’s childish, but he can’t help it.
He’s about to drink another glass of this weirdly smelling juice and it’s bitter and he knows it’s not juice. And he hates it. But he hears Mr. Hemmings behind him, clearing his throat, obviously waiting for him to turn around. And he doesn’t want to, but he does nonetheless, because that’s his boss and he doesn’t want to get on his bad side. It doesn’t stop him from thinking he hates him, though.
But he doesn’t. He loves Mr. Hemmings, because he’s standing in front of him and there’s an angel next to him. And Ashton smiles at them both, without even realizing.
“Hello, Ashton. Remember when I told you I wanted you to meet my son, Lucas?” he asks, smiling politely at him and he pats Luke’s shoulder. And of course Ashton doesn’t remember but he feels his blood draining out of his face and he hates Luke. He really does. “Ashton, that’s my son, Lucas. Luke, this is Ashton Irwin, one of my best assistants,” he says and Ashton wants to feel proud of himself but right now he just feels sick and he wants to go home and throw up. He stands there, looking at them blankly and waits for someone to kill him, but of course no one does.
On the other hand, Luke sticks out his hand and is that a smirk on his face? Ashton thinks it is and he hates Luke for being a little shit. But he knows he has to be the bigger person, so he shakes his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” he says, looking him directly in the eye and he almost forgot how much he hated his eyes.
“Just call me Luke,” and Ashton knows he says that on purpose and he hates it, but he realizes his boss doesn’t know anything.
Suddenly, he’s breathing normal again. So Luke hasn’t told him anything about that. He’s not getting fired. It’s not a joke they played on him. But still. He made his boss’s son help him. Hell, he thought he was just a staff guy. He’s screwed. Luke’s going to hate him forever.
(Later that day Michael tells him he’s the biggest drama queen ever.)
He stares at Luke and at his stupid eyes and at his stupid lips and at his stupid little paper tree he pinned to his stupid black jacket and he thinks how much he hates him. He doesn’t even realize his boss has started dancing with Helena until Luke clears his throat.
“So,” he starts, looking at Ashton and Ashton knows he wants him to say something but if he opens his mouth it’ll be an endless river of ‘you’re such an asshole’, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’, ‘I hate you’, ‘go away’ and ‘just kiss me already’.
And he doesn’t realize he said it out loud until three seconds later, when he feels Luke’s warm lips on his own and Luke’s stupid cold lipring and he hates it.
But he kisses him back, obviously, and all he can think about is LukeLukeLuke.
That’s purely because he hates him, of course.
Except he doesn’t.
(Michael and Calum, Luke’s friend, tease him for the next week. But he doesn’t care, because Luke’s cuddling with him and he just kind of hates them for being third wheels.)
(Edit: He doesn’t, though, not really.)