Chapter Text
Four weeks ago, Luke had gone to the doctor after his eye began to hurt. It had swelled shut and he couldn’t open it without immense pain. His GP told him that it was either pink eye, or some other non-serious eye infection. Yeah, right. Luke’s now 100% blind in one eye. They needed to do surgery on it to save his vision, yet that surgery ended up being completely useless. He’s part i ally blind, for fuck sake.
For the last three weeks, Luke’s been refusing help from everyone. Michael offered to sleep on his couch, Calum offered to swing by for an hour every day to help him around the house…but Luke’s refused it all. Of course he has, because Luke Hemmings has always been independent. The only help he’s taken was when Ashton grabbed him to stop him from going face first into a wall the first few days after surgery.
It’s been difficult for all of them, but Luke was putting on a brace face. Like now, Luke’s on a four-way FaceTime call with the band. He’s making himself a coffee while Calum and Michael jokingly argue about something. He tuned them out ages ago. It’s just after he almost burnt himself on the coffee pot that his phone buzzes from where it’s propped up against the wall to face him. It’s a message from Ashton.
Ash:
hey, you ok? did you burn yourself?
Luke squints with his good eye to read the message, before he laughs softly under his breath. He grabs his phone, turning his camera off in the FaceTime so that he can reply to Ashton’s message.
Luke:
I’m fine. I don’t need your obsessive worrying, Ash
He hits send and almost immediately regrets it. Was that too mean? Did he now just make Ashton feel insulted? His spiraling is cut short as another message arrives.
Ash:
asshole. yet your my favourite asshole
Luke:
You’re*
Ash:
fuck you
Luke:
Love you, too
The lighthearted conversation helped Luke ignore his ailments for a moment. But as soon as he turns his phone back onto the FaceTime, camera on, he was reminded of the missing eye in his skull. He turns back to the coffee machine, slowly pouring himself a cup and attempting a little too hard at not spilling it.
A boisterous laugh erupts from Michael, who had found something Calum did on his camera to be funny. Luke flinched, spilling the coffee all over himself and his hands. He lets out a loud yelp, wiping his hand on his shirt before blowing it to try and relieve the heat. When that doesn’t work, he grunts and shoves his hand under the cool water from the kitchen sink.
His phones buzzes again.
Ash:
i’m coming over
no complaining when i get there alright?
Luke doesn’t even look at the text, trying to relieve the tension and pain in his hand. Once that’s taken care of, he grabs his phone and hangs up, noticing that Ashton was already gone but not questioning it as he hung up his end of the call. He finally reads Ashton’s texts, and lets out a defeated sigh. Maybe getting someone’s help wasn’t a bad thing…or maybe it was just Ashton’s help Luke approved of.
10 Minutes Later
Luke’s sat on the couch when Ashton barges in. One of the only things Luke agreed on after partially losing his sight was that the other three men had spare keys to Luke’s house. As Ashton walks in, he notices Luke and immediately, without a word, walks over and sits beside him. His body and angled towards Luke, and the other man can’t help but collapse against him.
“Are you alright?” Ashton asks, placing one of his hands on the side of Luke’s neck. The pressure is comforting, familiar. A sound slips from between the younger man’s lips, a choked sob. Ashton’s free hand moves around his waist. “I’ve got you. Just talk to me, man…”
Another sob, and then another, and then Luke’s completely and utterly breaking down in Ashton’s arms. His shoulders shake with each sob, chest heaving with each gasp of breath. They sit there for what feels like hours, rocking back and forth to try and calm down.
“Ash…” Luke whispers, shaking his head slightly as he looks up at the older man, who sighs and cradles his face in his palms. “What do you need, Luke? And don’t lie to me…we’re way past that.” His hand slips down to the blonde boys waist, and freezes as he feels a liquid on his shirt. His brain immediately goes to the worst case scenario; he’s bleeding out, from a stab wound or something.
“Luke, what happened?” he asks, before looking down. His shoulders visibly go slack as he realises that it’s coffee, from when he spilt it earlier. “Damn it, Luke…alright, what can I do?” he repeats.
Luke looks up at Ashton with puppy dog eyes, “I feel gross…my clothes are stained and—“ he cuts himself off, a pink hue creeping up onto his cheeks, “can you help me to the shower? You can go once I’m in, if you want,” he mumbles.
Ashton pauses for a moment, before he lets out an amused laugh. Smirking, he stands and pulls Luke up with him, “I ain’t leave you just yet, asshole,” he teases, pulling Luke’s body against his own.
They make their way to the bathroom, occasionally leaning back against a passing wall so one of them can pepper kisses against the other’s neck. Once they arrive in the bathroom, Ashton’s quick to lift Luke’s shirt over his head; however, he stops before he can help with his pants.
“Can I…?” he asks, waiting until Luke nods before helping him out of his pants. Once that’s done, Ashton places his hands on Luke’s waist, helping him navigate to the shower. “Step up,” he murmurs, making sure Luke doesn’t trip. Ashton knows maybe a little too much about Luke, considering he’s turning the shower on to the temperature that he knows Luke prefers.
While Luke’s busy showering, Ashton sits on the floor, fiddling with his fingernails. It’s silent, until Luke speaks, “You can…join me. Only if you want though, I don’t mind, it’s completely up to y—“ He’s cut off as the shower door opens and Ashton steps in with him.
“Hi,” he breathes out, a small smile creeping up onto his face. Ashton grins, leaning down to press a kiss to Luke’s collarbone, “Hi,” he repeats back.
1 Hour Later
Ashton and Luke are laying on Luke’s king sized bed. They’re clothed now, Ashton in one of Luke’s old shirts and sweatpants, while the blonde man is in only sweatpants. They’re laying under the blankets, cuddling together. The older man’s hand ghosts over the younger’s spine, tracing the ridges and bumps of the vertebrae.
“Move in with me,” are the words that slip out from between Ashton’s lips. They’re so soft that they’re barely audible even in the quiet of the bedroom. The city continues to roar outside the window, cars driving past even at the darkest hours of night, they never sleep. The older man assumes that Luke didn’t hear, maybe he had already fallen asleep.
“Okay…”
Ashton freezes, his hand stilling on the other man’s back. “‘Okay’? You’ll move in with me?” He asks, pressing himself against the younger man’s back with one arm wrapped around his hips. Luke presses himself back against Ashton, a positive sign.
“Yes, Ash, I’ll move in with you. I didn’t want to admit it, but— but I’m struggling.” Those words feel like daggers against Ashton’s already beaten-up heart. It’s hard enough watching Luke suffer from a distance, but him admitting it, and to Ashton of all people? Yeah, that means a lot.
“You said yes!” Ashton suddenly exclaims, moving to roll Luke onto his back. He moves to straddle the blonde’s lap, leaning over him with eyes filled with adoration. “Thank you…you won’t regret it,” he murmurs, before leaning down to press their lips together in a quick kiss.
“I already regret it,” Luke teases as he pulls Ashton closer, crashing their lips together again.