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Ashton had, quite frankly, had enough of today. At some point before Ashton woke up, Luke had regressed into little space and as a result, he had made a mess of pretty much everything in the kitchen, and Ashton hadn’t slept all that well so there were certain things that got on Ashton’s nerves that usually wouldn’t. Normally, Ashton loved having Luke as a little, loved taking care of him and spoiling him and being his daddy, but today was not a good day. He had gotten up early to get to work at exactly 9am so he could finish a project that was due in at 10am on the dot, and he’d gone to go and have a shower only to discover that the bathroom floor was soaking wet (he had only realised this when he was on his back lying in what felt like the fucking Atlantic Ocean) and that there was no hot water left because a certain somebody had used it all. So, after almost breaking his back and an insanely cold shower, Ashton gets dressed and makes his way downstairs.
The thing about Ashton is that he hates being negative. He had always been that way, ever since his dad left. When his dad left, his mum was always sad. She never specifically told him so, but Ashton could tell that there weren’t many things that made her happy. Without even knowing it, Ashton would do his best to make her smile, even if it was just reminding her that the sky is so blue! And the flowers are so pretty! And he guesses that the positivity has translated through to his adult life as well, because with each step he takes down the staircase he reminds himself of the good things in his life, remembers to smile and convinces himself that the rest of the day will not annoy him as much as his morning did.
Only, once he walks into the kitchen he is greeted by a cheery “Good mornin’, Dada!” and an armful of a soaking wet Luke Hemmings.
And… shit.
Ashton takes a deep breath and reminds himself that it’s okay. That it’s not the end of the world. He loves little Luke, of course he does, but why today? And, oh god, why is Luke soaking wet?
“Good morning, baby.” Ashton breathes, trying to get a hold of himself. He pulls away from Luke’s embrace and holds him out at arm’s length and looks him up and down. Luke’s hair is wet and floppy, obviously fresh out of the shower. He’s dressed himself in mismatched fluffy slipper socks and one of Ashton’s big band shirts, which okay, would be absolutely no problem if Luke hadn’t spilt cereal and milk all down his front. So now Ashton’s own freshly washed and neatly ironed crisp white dress shirt that he’d chosen to wear to work that morning was covered in milk as well. If it had just been water, Ashton could wind his car windows down on the way to work and his shirt would be dry by the time he got there, but of course it’s milk. Everyone knows that milk fucking stinks if left on clothing for any amount of time, especially in the hot Australian sunshine. Ashton knows that all he needs to do is go upstairs and change shirts, but today just isn’t Ashton’s day.
“Look, daddy!” Luke says cheerfully, bouncing up and down on his heels. “I got all dressed by myself today! Like a big boy! I’m a good boy, aren’t I, daddy? Your good boy!”
Ashton would be lying if he says his heart didn’t melt even a tiny bit, and he is about to agree with Luke, to sigh and allow himself be wrapped in the warm blanket of cute that is his baby, but then he sees the state of the kitchen behind him, and suddenly nothing is very cute anymore.
First of all, the fridge door is wide open. That’s not really a big deal, Ashton is sure that it hasn’t been open for too long, and it’s very easy and non-time consuming to just walk over and shut it. Luke leaves it open all the time. It would be okay if it was just that, but it isn’t. Luke has also apparently split milk all over the counter top, leaving the bottle only a quarter full (it was definitely full when they went to bed last night) with the lid off right in the middle of it all. Some milk has spread to the edge of the counter, small drips taking daring leaps across the side, collecting in further puddles on the floor. Luke had obviously tried (albeit not very hard) to clear the milk up, leaving soaking lumps of toilet paper (why toilet paper, of all things?) in random places along the counter, which only served to make the mess worse.
The cereal box was on its side on the kitchen table, spilling Coco Pops across what was seemingly the length of the entire fucking table. Ashton doesn’t even want to begin to question how Luke got his breakfast got all down his shirt, but his bowl sits empty by his seat at the table, so it’s not exactly a great mystery.
“I spilled some milks, daddy, but don’t worry I cleared it up!” Luke carries on proudly, his little face lighting up with a grin, even though he most certainly did not clear it up.
Ashton can’t seem to make sense of the situation. He knows he’s already late for work and he knows that whatever he says is bound to be fuelled by anger and stress, but he just doesn’t know how to handle this.
“Luke,” He begins, clenching his hands into fists to try and calm himself down. “How the fuck did this happen?”
“Daddy!” Luke gasps. “Naughty language!” and he’s right, Ashton always tells Luke off for his swear words and always makes a point of not saying any himself, but at this point he just doesn’t care.
“Luke,” Ashton repeats, even more stern and angry this time. “Tell me what you did to our kitchen, right now.”
Luke’s blue eyes are wide and full of sadness and confusion, and Ashton knows deep down that Luke didn’t mean to wreck the kitchen in the way that he has, but that doesn’t cease the spitfire of Ashton’s emotions.
“I didn’t do anythin’, daddy. I spilled the milkies and then I made it go away. Like I’m supposed to.” Luke tells him in a quiet tone. His eyes are fixed to his fluffy socks and he’s playing with his thumbs nervously.
“Go to your room.” Is all Ashton can manage before he turns away to evaluate how to clear up the mess that had been made.
“Are you gonna punish me, daddy? With spankies?” Luke asks. Even with the quiet and sad tone of his voice, there’s still an edge to it, like he wants to be spanked. He always does, really.
Ashton tightly grips the wet edge of the counter in front of him, doesn’t turn around. “Luke-”
“I jus’ wanted to be a good boy for you, daddy.”
Ashton can feel himself deflate. Like he’s balloon and Luke’s words are the pin that burst him. Or maybe like all of his emotions were being stored up in an untied balloon, and the balloon was getting bigger and bigger until suddenly it was too full and Ashton couldn’t hold on to the end anymore. Now, instead of feeling anger, he felt overwhelming sadness and guilt, but most of all he felt like a terrible daddy.
When he turns around to apologise, Luke has gone.
When Ashton finishes cleaning the kitchen, when the milk is back in the fridge and the cereal is back in the cupboard, he calls Calum to come and take care of Luke for the day. Calum agrees instantly and tells him he’ll be over in 15 minutes. Ashton knows that it’s way past 9am and he knows he’s late and that he needs to call his boss and tell him this, he knows he should talk to Luke about his shower habits and he knows that he should properly punish him for the mess that he made, but he can’t bring himself to do any of it. He wants to call in sick to work and promise the project in for tomorrow morning, and cuddle and colour with his Lukey Boy all day, but he can’t. Not today. He does that too much and he can’t get away with it again. He needs his job, even when Luke needs him.
When he gets up into his and Luke’s bedroom, Luke is sat in the corner facing the wall, where daddy always puts him for time out. He’s hunched in on himself, and his body is shaking. Even from where he stands in the doorway, Ashton can tell he’s got his Pengy clutched tightly to his chest and he can hear his baby sobbing, muffled by the animal’s fur. When he shuts the door behind himself, Luke tenses up and quietens down, somehow making himself look tiny and so, so incredibly childlike that it hurts Ashton.
Sighing, Ashton makes quick work of removing his shirt, bunching it up and throwing it to land on top of the laundry basket. He replaces it with another one and before he’s even finished buttoning it up, he’s making his way to Luke and crouching down behind him.
“I’m sorry, Luke.” Ashton says, pressing a kiss to his baby’s broad shoulder.
Luke sniffles. “I’m sorry, daddy.” He says, but doesn’t turn around.
Ashton runs an already tired hand over his face and then through his hair. He’s incredibly late for work and his boss will be angry, but Luke needs to know that he’s okay. That Ashton isn’t angry anymore. He sits himself down behind Luke, and gently reaches forward to pull Luke onto his lap.
“You’re a good boy for putting yourself in time out, Lukey.” Ashton murmurs into his hair, leaving a line of kisses down his neck. Luke is taller and broader than Ashton, yet somehow he manages to appear so small when he’s sad.
“Are you going to punish me, daddy?” Luke asks. He turns his head slightly to glance back at Ashton. When their eyes meet, he snaps his head back around to face the wall.
Ashton has to contemplate this for a minute. He’s late and he’s tired and he doesn’t particularly want to hurt his baby right now, no matter how much Luke seems to want him to. “I don’t think so, baby. You’ve already been punished enough, I think.”
“But, but… I made a big mess, daddy!” Luke squirms and wiggles in Ashton’s lap until Ashton loosens his grip and lets Luke climb off of him. He then turns to face Ashton, sitting up on his knees and clutching Pengy to his body. “And I made you have angry feelings.”
Ashton feels terrible because he can very easily tell how guilty Luke feels for what he did. He doesn’t want to punish Luke, and Luke doesn’t want to be punished, Ashton knows that. The only reason why Luke keeps bringing it up is because he feels like he has to be punished to make things better. It makes Ashton feel sad.
“I’m not angry anymore, Luke.” Ashton sighs, stands up wearily. “Calum is coming over soon to look after you.”
Luke scrambles up behind him and clutches to the fabric of his daddy’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good boy.”
“Sweetie,” Ashton pauses and sighs, his fingers raking through Luke’s flat hair. The strands are still wet and they stick to his forehead. It makes him look a lot younger than he is. If Ashton could have his way he’d get a towel and rub Luke’s hair down in the way that made him squeal and giggle, the way he always did after they have a bath or shower together. “You are a good boy. It was so nice of you to get up and get dressed by yourself this morning, baby. You look so beautiful for daddy.”
Luke seems pleased with this response as he beams and then pouts his lips. “Can I have kisses, daddy? Please?”
“Of course you can, baby.” Ashton leans forward and presses their lips together. There’s no tongue, and their lips are barely moving, but Luke seems satisfied as he pulls away.
“I love you, daddy.” He says. Ashton’s heart melts.
“I love you too, baby. Forever.”
“Can I go play now, please?” Luke asks excitedly. Ashton nods and helps him change his cereal covered shirt before he presses a kiss to Luke’s forehead and sends him down to the living room where his favourite toys are. If only it were that easy for Ashton to forget. As a little, Luke finds it extremely easy to forgive and forget and to believe whatever Ashton says. If Luke is told that his daddy isn’t angry, then his daddy isn’t angry. When not a little, if Luke is told that Ashton isn’t angry, he’ll stick by Ashton’s side just to double check that Ashton really, really isn’t angry, or sad, or hurt or anything else.
Ashton wishes it was that simple.
The rest of Ashton’s day most certainly does not get any better. In fact, it gets worse. He gets stuck in traffic on his way to work and when he gets there, he buys coffee for his boss to help him convince them to let him have extra project time, only to spill the coffee on his boss when he gets to their office. As a result of this, his boss tells him the project has to be in by the end of the day, and gives him more work, also due for the end of the day. They also run out of his favourite sandwiches in the cafeteria at his work, and Ashton somehow couldn’t bring himself to try any other types, so he just doesn’t eat. Nothing massively major happens, but it all just adds up to one big mess of bad things.
By the time Ashton gets home, he’s sad and exhausted and he feels like crying. As soon as he opens the front door, he’s met with another armful of Luke, except this time he’s dry and cuddly. Ashton melts into his hug.
“I missed you so much, daddy!” He grins. “I was so good for Uncle Calum today!”
“I bet you were.” Ashton replies. “I missed you too, baby boy.”
Calum stumbles out of the living room, looking tired but happy. “What’s up, dad?” He asks, and Ashton flips him off behind Luke’s back.
“Uncle Cal!” Luke shouts suddenly, sounding absolutely outraged. He pulls away from Ashton to turn to face Calum with his arms crossed, a pout on his lips. “He’s my daddy, not yours!”
Calum throws his head back with a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry Lukey.” He winks, and brushes past them both to slip his shoes on. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.” He says. Ashton feels himself sag with relief. He loves Calum, he absolutely does, and he’s such a lifesaver in situations like this where Ashton needs him, but he just needs some time with his Lukey. He doesn’t even question Ashton’s sad demeanour and tired eyes, only because he knows Ashton doesn’t want him to.
“Wait!” Luke stops Calum by grabbing his arm and shaking it up and down excitedly. “First you have to tell daddy how good I was today!”
Calum’s eyes meet Ashton’s and he smiles warmly. “Lukey was absolutely brilliant for me today, Ash. He helped me make lunch and coloured in lots of lovely pictures and talked about you all day. We had a cracking time, didn’t we, little mate?”
“Yeah!” Luke beams and jumps onto Calum, wrapping his arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “I was so good today! Thank you for looking after me, Uncle Cal.”
“Yeah, thank you, Cal.” Ashton smiles gratefully and accepts the hug Calum gives him once he’s managed to pull Luke away. “Tell Mike we said hi.”
“No, tell Uncle Mikey that I loooooovvveee him!” Luke giggles and leans forward to kiss Calum’s cheek before he runs back into the living room to play.
“Thank you, Cal, seriously.” Ashton says quietly. He pulls Calum into another quick hug and Calum rubs his hair soothingly.
“Just let us know if you need us again tonight, okay? Mike and I are always here.”
“I know, mate. Thanks.” Ashton says, and Calum pats him on the back before he leaves.
When the door is shut again, Ashton takes a minute to lean against it and go through the things that he needs to do before he can collapse into bed with Luke and forget about his shitty day. He needs to make dinner for Luke and he probably ought to start on some of the work he has due for the next few days, but right now all he needs is his Lukey.
When Ashton walks into the living room, Luke is lying on the floor on his tummy, kicking his legs back and forth. An old episode of SpongeBob is playing on the TV in front of him, but he is focused very intently on the picture he’s in the middle of colouring. Ashton heaves a sigh as he falls back onto the sofa and loosens his tie. He hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet.
“Hi, Lukey.”
Luke turns around and grins a big grin at him, sitting up slightly to wave at his daddy. “Hi, dada!” He glances back over his shoulder at the picture he had been colouring, before grabbing Pengy’s flipper and scrambling up so he was sat on his knees facing Ashton. “Did you have a good day?”
Ashton considers this for a minute. If Luke wasn’t in his headspace, he’d tell the truth. But he knows that if he tells him how bad he feels, Luke will be sad as a result, and that’s the last thing Ashton needs. “It was good, yeah. Do you want to come here and have cuddles with daddy?”
Luke jumps up, almost as if he knew Ash was going to ask, and flops down on Ashton’s lap. Ashton wraps his arms around Luke as tightly as he can with no intention of ever letting go. “I think you’re lying to me, daddy. Lying is naughty.”
“It doesn’t matter, baby.”
“It definitely does, daddy. You’ve been a sad daddy today and that’s the worst kind of daddy.” Luke pulls away from Ashton for a second and studies his face with his head tilted. He then leans forward and begins to press kiss after kiss to his cheeks and his chin and forehead and his nose until he finally presses a kiss to Ashton’s lips.
“I just had a long day. I’ll be better tomorrow, baby. I promise.”
“Okay,” Luke says slowly. Then he holds his pinkie up to Ashton’s face. “But do you pinkie promise?”
Ashton can’t help but laugh. He untangles his arm from Luke’s body and intertwines their pinkies. “I pinkie promise, Lukey.”
Luke giggles and cuddles back into Ashton again, turning his attention back to the TV.
They only manage to get through 15 minutes of SpongeBob before Luke is squirming to get out of Ashton’s grip. Ashton reluctantly lets him go. Sometimes Luke can concentrate for hours, and sometimes he can only concentrate for a matter of minutes. Ashton supposes today he’s the latter. Luke bounces over to where he had previously been colouring, and drops down in front of the paper again. With a sigh, Ashton manoeuvres himself so he’s lying on his back on the sofa and shuts his eyes, the sound of SpongeBob’s obnoxious laugh and Luke’s adorable nonsensical chat to his Pengy drifting him off to sleep.
Ashton wakes up again to a weight on his stomach and a repeated shout of “Wakey wakey, daddy!” over and over again. When he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is Luke’s face. There’s a ring of light around Luke’s head from the ceiling lamps, and Ashton can’t help but think that he looks like some sort of angel.
“Daddy, you’re awake!” Luke cries happily, leaning down to press a kiss to Ashton’s lips. Ashton smiles warmly and stifles a yawn behind his hand before he wraps an arm around Luke’s waist and sits up straight.
“You okay, princess?” Ashton feels more than slightly terrible for allowing falling asleep and leaving Luke to fend for himself. He can only hope that he hasn’t been asleep for too long, giving Luke barely any time to do any damage.
Luke nods hurriedly in response to his question. “I drawed you something, dada! And I even wrote you a letter because I noticed you were a sad daddy and I want you to be a happy daddy instead!” He then thrusts a piece of paper in Ashton’s face.
“Wow, baby. Thank you.” He replies before he’s even had the chance to look. He takes the paper from his boy and rubs at his eyes before he focuses on the paper. Just as he starts to study the picture, his attention is drawn to Luke who is climbing off his lap.
“I need to get you something, daddy, okay?” Luke says in his ‘pretend big boy’ voice. Ashton raises an eyebrow. “Don’t follow me!” Luke says before he rushes out of the door.
Sometimes, Ashton just has to trust Luke.
On the paper in front of him there’s a picture very obviously of them together, holding hands. Luke’s drawn himself in bright pink, a mess of yellow hair sitting on top of his head. His eyes are bright blue circles and his lips are a thick smiley red line. He’s drawn himself in a princess dress. Ashton is similar, except he’s wearing all black, the rest of him drawn using a sparkly silver Sharpie. His hair is portrayed through brown curls that are longer than his actual hair, trailing all the way down to the floor. Big black glasses are framing his light green felt tip eyes and above him, Luke has drawn a line pointing to his hair with the caption ‘Pretty Rapunzel Daddy!’ with a smiley face next to it. Luke has drawn himself much smaller than Ashton, clutching onto Pengy.
Surrounding the two of them in the drawing there’s green grass and a blue sky and pretty flowers and lots of birds. Beside them he’s written ‘Daddy and Lukey forever!! I love Daddy!!’ in a big heart.
Ashton eyes well up with tears and he has to clear his throat and blink them away, reminding himself to be strong for Luke. He has never felt so utterly loved in his life. He doesn’t know how Luke does it, he doesn’t know how Luke can so easily manage to make the heavy weight that’s been settled in his chest all day go away just like that.
He turns the picture over and on the back there’s the letter that Luke has written, his messy scrawl saying:
To the best daddy ever!
I saw that you were feeling sad today and I wanted to remind you that you are the most bestest daddy ever ever in the world!! And that you are the most handsomest and funniest and cleverest and bravest man in the world and I am the luckiest Luke ever because you are my daddy!! Thank you daddy!!
I love you more than anything in the world even more than I love Pengy!!
Lots and lots and lots and lots of love from Lukey!!!!
Ashton doesn’t realise that he’s crying as he’s reading and re-reading the letter over and over again until Luke’s jumping into his lap again and kissing the tears away before they reach his chin.
“Don’t cry, daddy.” Luke says sadly. “I don’t like it when you cry. I’m sorry that you don’t like the picture, I can draw you ‘nother one if you want.”
“No, baby,” Ashton pulls Luke to his chest, buries his face in his boy’s hair and breathes deeply, tears still falling down his cheeks. “I love it, baby. I love it so much. You’re so beautiful and wonderful, you make daddy feel so special.”
“I do?” Luke says softly, sniffles at the end. Then suddenly, he’s sitting up straighter and muttering something about being strong for daddy and suddenly he’s pulling away from Ashton slightly to kiss all over his daddy’s face again.
“You do, angel.” He confirms with a giggle. “I feel so loved, baby. Thank you for this. I feel so much better.”
Luke looks proud at this. So much prouder than Ashton’s ever seen him before. “That’s not all I did, daddy!”
“Oh?” Ashton quirks an eyebrow and Luke beams. “What else did you do, Lukey?”
“Wait there!” Luke tells him, climbs off of his lap and runs into the kitchen. Before Ashton can even really comprehend what’s going on, Luke is back, walking into the room with careful steps, eyes trained on the plate in his right hand. In his left hand he’s holding a wine glass with what appears to be milk inside. Luke’s teeth are clamped firmly around the handle of a Disney Princess sippy cup. Ashton is so thankful that there’s a firm lid to the drinking spout otherwise there’d be an incident similar to that of this morning’s, and he’s not sure he could go through that again.
Luke carefully sits down next to him with a plate of what Ashton can now see as being about half a dozen chocolate chip cookies. He hands Ashton the wine glass and releases the sippy cup into his own hand with a big grin. Ashton’s heart melts.
“We’re having cookies and milks for dinner tonight, daddy!” He announces. Normally, every night just before bed, Ashton lets Luke have a couple cookies and some milk in his sippy cup. It’s just a silly thing that makes Luke happy before he goes to sleep, especially when Ashton has to stay up later then he does. Normally Luke will eat and drink as Ashton reads him a story. Ashton himself never really has milk, he’ll maybe have a beer or a glass of wine, and he always tells Luke not to touch the wine glass, tells him that it’s a big boy glass and that must be why the milk Luke has given to him is in the big boy glass. Ashton finds himself marvelling at Luke’s beautiful soul. His wonderful, thoughtful boy. Whenever Luke has a nightmare or feels sad or tired, Ashton fills his sippy cup with milk too. Milk has always been a comfort to Luke, and that’s probably what he was aiming for with Ashton. He almost bursts into tears all over again.
He feels like he ought to tell Luke off, make him an actual dinner to remind him that cookies are not a suitable meal option, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. He’s trying so hard and it’s making Ashton feel like he’s never going to be sad ever again.
“This is amazing! I can’t believe you prepared this beautiful meal just for me!” Luke squeals with delight at Ashton’s words. He loves it when Ashton acts like he’s done amazing things when really they’re ordinary things. To Ashton, they are amazing things. Luke is an amazing thing. Ashton’s amazing thing.
Luke crawls into Ashton’s lap – the best seat in the house, in Luke’s opinion – and together they munch on the cookies and drink their milk. Ashton even lets Luke take a few sips from the big boy glass. Once they’ve finished all their cookies and all their milk, they sit and cuddle for a while, watching an old episode of Fairly OddParents together, before Ashton notices the yawn that Luke was trying to hide behind his hand.
“Time for bed now, princess?” Ashton suggests gently, running his fingers through Luke’s hair, un-styled and unkempt, the way they both like it.
“Wait, daddy!” Luke slips off of Ashton’s lap and stands up, quickly grabbing his cup and Ashton’s glass and the plate in his arms. “I’m putting you to bed tonight.” He says.
“Oh, you are?” Ashton asks.
“Yes! Wait right there, daddy.” With that, Luke rushes out into the kitchen. He can hear the clattering of glasses and plates together, but instead of interfering, he leans back and closes his eyes and just really hopes that he’s going to find his kitchen still in once piece tomorrow. Sometimes he just has to let his Lukey be strong for him.
He hears Luke stumble back into the living room a few minutes later, and Ashton lazily opens his eyes to find him on his knees in front of the sofa, all of his attention focused on untying his daddy’s shoelaces and getting his shoes off.
“You didn’t even take your shoes off yet!” Luke says, appalled. Ashton chuckles. “That’s so silly, daddy!”
“You’re right. I am a silly daddy. What are you going to do with me, huh Lukey?”
Luke slips off Ashton first shoe and pushes it to the side. He then looks up at him with big, bright blue eyes and Ashton literally feels like he’s looking at the sun. “I take your shoes off then, daddy!” He giggles and averts his eyes back to the shoelace on Ashton’s other shoe, dainty fingers working carefully at the knot. Ashton laughs and twists a floppy strand of his baby’s hair around his finger gently.
“You’re such a good boy for me, Lucas.” He says fondly.
Luke doesn’t reply, but beams with pride as he finally manages to get Ashton’s other shoe off, putting it next to the first. He then stands up and extends his hand for Ashton to take. He pulls him up and grabs Pengy, and then together they check that both the front and back doors are locked, and turn off all the downstairs lights (big boy duties, as Luke likes to call them, and feels proud whenever he gets to help complete them) and they make their way upstairs.
Once upstairs, Ashton stands and lets Luke undo his tie, and take off his shirt and remove his trousers and socks. He lets Luke put on his own pyjamas (“Like a big boy!”) and he lets Luke pull him into the bathroom, and he lets Luke prepare their toothbrushes and cuddle into him as they brush their teeth. Then, he lets Luke pull back the bed covers and help him into bed, and he lets Luke shove Pengy into his arms and climb in beside him, and then bunch the duvet around their bodies, tucking them in like Ashton normally would for Luke. He lets Luke read him a chapter of the book that Ashton would normally read to him of a night, his voice soft and warm and sounding just like home. Ashton lets himself be taken care of and loved in the same way that he takes care of and loves Luke.
“You know, daddy,” Luke says as Ashton is just drifting off to sleep, “Being big doesn’t always mean that you have to be invincible.”
And, with the way that Luke has taken care of him tonight, Ashton can’t help but be thankful for that.
(And, if the next morning, Luke wakes up early and calls Ashton’s boss to tell him that Ashton is really, really super sick and can’t even make it to the phone, let alone to work, and then they spend the whole day cuddling and colouring… well, no one has to know except them.)