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Ashton loves talking to Calum in the morning. There’s something endlessly appealing about Calum when he’s only partially awake, eyelids drooping and expressions soft, voice gravely in a way that sends shivers up Ashton’s spine. In the morning, Ashton can get away with running his fingers over Calum’s scalp or letting his gaze linger on him longer than normal, drinking in the sight of him bent over a cup of coffee or blinking at the morning light.
When they aren’t physically together, Ashton likes video calling him to start his day, anyway. He can’t reach out and touch like he wants to, but it’s still a treat to see the unguarded version of Calum that not everyone is privy to, even if he sees him through a phone screen.
Calum is still in bed when he picks up, giving Ashton a devastating view of his curls and collarbones. The fact that he sleeps shirtless does endless damage to Ashton’s psyche, as if he hasn’t had a full view of Calum’s chest countless times over the years while swimming, sunbathing, or changing in various dressing rooms or hotels around the world. Still, it makes Ashton wish even more that he was in bed with him, taking the place of the sheets that have the privilege of brushing against his bare skin every night.
“Morning,” Calum says, rubbing a knuckle against his eye then squinting at Ashton through the screen.
“Good morning,” Ashton says. “Busy day today.”
Calum hums. His eyes slip closed again, then open slowly. Ashton wishes he could see him just a little bit clearer. He’d love to count his eyelashes as they flutter.
“I should get up,” Calum sighs. “I was going to make Roy breakfast.”
“That’s kind of you,” Ashton says. “Do you have a lot to do to get ready for the party?”
Calum shrugs halfheartedly. He’s still waking up, and Ashton knows that he’ll become more vocal as the call progresses and he gathers his wits.
“You’ll be there?”
“Of course,” Ashton says. “When have I ever missed a party at your place?”
Calum shrugs again, then sets the phone down so he can sit up and stretch. Ashton gets a good view of his ceiling.
“Besides,” he says to fill the silence, “I want to win the ugly sweater contest this year. I’ve got a great one.”
Calum laughs, one loud, bright HA that makes Ashton blink. The view on the phone screen shifts until he can see Calum’s face again, the background moving around him as he walks through his house.
“Don’t get cocky. You have to beat me, and I’ve got a fucking awesome sweater this time.”
“You’re hosting!” Ashton says. “You can’t compete if you’re hosting.”
“ Roy is hosting,” Calum replies. “He’s the judge. I’m just another party guest.”
Ashton opens his mouth, then closes it again. This was not part of the plan. Calum has the uncanny ability to find the tackiest, worst sweaters in any thrift store they go to. Ashton’s sweater is good, but this might throw a wrench in things.
“Wait, is that why you’re making him breakfast?” he asks. “Are you bribing the judge? That’s cheating!”
“What?” Calum asks, fumbling with his phone. He drops it on the counter, then taps near the microphone. “What was that, Ashton? I think you’re breaking up on me. I can’t hear you.”
“You can hear me just fine,” he says. Calum makes a few weird noises with his mouth, then taps at the microphone again.
“Sorry, I can’t–this call just isn’t working. I’ll see you tonight though!”
He cuts off the call. Ashton stares at the blank screen until a text comes through, a simple kissing-face emoji. Ashton’s glad that no one is around to see him blush, even as he begins making plans to “improve” his sweater.
-/-
Ashton arrives precisely on time, which means that the party is already in full swing, the house packed with friends and an EDM remix of a popular Christmas song blaring from the home speakers. Ashton suspects that Michael has elected himself DJ for the hour, or at least until he gets bored, and this specific mix has the mark of his enthusiasm and Christmas spirit. Ashton takes his time shedding his coat and boots, preparing himself to enter the fray.
The first person that he sees is Luke, and the first thing that Luke does is burst out laughing.
"What?" Ashton asks, catching his grin even if he doesn't understand the joke.
"Did you and Calum plan this?" he giggles when he catches a breath. "I don't know if it's better if you planned it or if you didn't."
"Planned what?" Ashton asks. Luke doubles over with the force of his laughter again, then waves a hand helplessly at him.
"Nothing," he laughs. "You'll see."
He glances at Ashton again, laughs so hard that Ashton is scared he's going to start crying, then stumbles off into the crowd.
Ashton looks down at his sweater. It's hilariously ugly, in his humble opinion, but he didn't expect that reaction, and he doesn't understand why Luke would bring Calum into it. Calum has nothing to do with it. This sweater is all Ashton, and he’s proud of it.
He gets a few double-takes as he makes his way through the crowd greeting people. Most everyone takes some sort of delight in his sweater, but there's definitely something else going on, too. He gets way too many understanding grins and waggled eyebrows for it to all be about the sweater.
When he finally sees Calum in the kitchen, he understands.
"You bastard!" he grins. Calum whirls around, revealing his sweater. It's an amalgamation of every Christmas theme imaginable, mixed with all of the colors of the rainbow and then some, and pasted haphazardly on top of a lumpy mess of wool with gaudy elbow patches. It's gloriously ugly and completely one-of-a-kind, except for the fact that it's a direct copy of the sweater that Ashton is currently wearing. The only slight differences are the pieces of yarn that Ashton messily stabbed through the wool earlier in the day to make it uglier and a few holes in Calum's.
Calum gives him a disbelieving once-over, then laughs.
"How?" he asks. "I got this at a flea market two months ago. I've never seen another like it."
Ashton shrugs helplessly.
"Matt found this at a thrift store in the next county over. I thought it was the only one of its kind."
"I can't believe we did this," Calum says, shaking his head. "This is really taking the soulmate joke to another level. We're worse than an old married couple."
"This is insane."
Ashton rubs at his forehead, then shrugs again. There is no explanation. Somehow, he and Calum are so in tune that they randomly bought the same ugly sweater that no one has ever seen before, yet Calum still doesn't know how much Ashton is in love with him.
Calum steps forward and tugs at Ashton's arms, making him hold them out so he can catalog every detail of the sweater. He puts his hands on Ashton's waist and turns him around to look at the back, then around again to face him.
"Holy fuck," he says, looking at the sweater, then at Ashton's face. "This is an abomination. How do you still look like this?"
"Like what?"
Calum gestures helplessly.
"This is the ugliest sweater I've ever seen in my life. That's why I chose it. You're not allowed to still look good in it!"
Ashton blinks, then looks back down at the sweater. They're both liberal with their compliments on each other's appearance, but this is a bit much. He thinks the only person who could possibly pull this sweater off is Calum, and he knows that that's because love makes him blind and Calum is somehow endearing enough to make it work.
"I don't," he says.
Calum scoffs.
"I don't," Ashton insists. "You can pull off anything, but not me."
"That's a blatant lie."
"It's not! You're too cute to look ugly."
Calum scoffs again, louder.
"You're just saying that because you like me."
"I love you," Ashton corrects. It's an easy admission, one that's almost always misinterpreted due to years of friendship. This time, however, it makes Calum pause.
"Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb here," he says. "There's no way you could think I pull this sweater off unless you're stupidly in love with me. I love Michael, but he could not handle this sweater. I love Luke, but he'd look like an idiot. You, however, somehow still look fine, and if you're saying I do, too, I'm going to kiss your stupid face. I think it's time for us to get to that part of the 'married couple soulmates' thing."
Ashton gapes at him.
"Are you serious?" he asks after a moment. Calum nods once. "Because I'm very serious, Calum. I don't want you kissing me if you're going to take this lightly."
Calum's expression softens, and he runs his hand down Ashton's arm to take his hand.
"I'm very serious," he says. "I've loved you for a long time, and I know that you've loved me, too, but I'm getting a little tired of waiting for you to make a move. I feel like the matching sweaters are a sign."
Ashton doesn’t want to ignore a sign from the universe, especially when it’s pointing him in the direction of everything he wants. One thing, however, gives him pause.
"Calum, we can't get together because of the sweaters," Ashton says. "That's a horrible story. We can't owe the start of our relationship to these atrocities."
Calum rolls his eyes, still smiling.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he says. "You can bullshit a story for us later."
Calum cups his face and leans in. Ashton gets on board pretty quickly, and they spend enough time kissing in the kitchen that they both miss the call for the sweater contest. He doesn't mind, though. He feels like he won the best prize of all tonight, and Calum's lips on his is the best reward he could ask for.