Chapter Text
☆ﾟ･:*:･｡,★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
July 2019
No matter how many times Luke tries to tell himself that this wasn’t the plan, there’s a taunting voice in the back of his head that tells him that of course this was the plan. It always is.
He’s not entirely sure where he is, except that it’s in a bar in Batemans Bay, and that he’s within walking distance of his hotel. That’s the extent of his knowledge about his whereabouts, and as he throws back the remaining mouthful of his first, but probably not last, drink of the evening, he wonders how many drinks it will take before he forgets that he’s even in Australia. Leaning back in his chair, he swipes his gaze across the dark room, from the small table he’s seated at all by himself, to the pool table to his left, to the bar on his far right.
The music playing from the speakers isn’t loud, nor is it too heavy on the bass. It’s just there, adding to the background noise already present thanks to the numerous conversations taking place by the surrounding tables, by the pool table, by the bar. Closing his eyes for a moment, Luke draws a deep breath through his nose before he goes to buy himself another drink. A glass of white wine this time, because if he’s going to feel like shit in the morning anyway, why not try to beat his personal record of number of different alcoholic beverages consumed in one evening?
He’s just sat back down by his table and taken a sip of the wine, grimacing at the sourness of it, when a guy suddenly slumps down on the chair vis-à-vis his own. It’s a good looking guy, Luke concludes after a moment, so he plasters on his prettiest smile and leans forward, one elbow perched on the table.
“On holiday here?” the guy asks before Luke gets a chance to say anything.
“Something like that,” Luke says, cocking his head to the side. “How did you know?”
The guy smiles, a barely-there tilt of his lips that carries a hint of smugness. “Depends on whether or not you go for guys,” he says. “If you don’t, I’ll say that you look far too out of place to actually be living here. If you do, however, I’ll say that there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t have noticed you sooner if you lived here. This town is too small for tall, leggy, broad-shouldered, blond guys with pretty faces to go unnoticed.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “Maybe I just moved here.”
“But you didn’t, because you just told me you were here on holiday.”
“No, I said ‘something like that’.”
“Which means…?”
“Which means I’m here for work and that I’m going back home tomorrow.”
“Perfect.”
“Why is that perfect?”
The guy shrugs his shoulders. “Makes you a perfect candidate for a one night stand, doesn’t it? If you’re into that.”
Luke leans back in his chair and nips at his wine. He’s slightly lightheaded, but not nearly so much so that he can’t think straight, and this guy really is quite good looking, not to mention incredibly self-assured, forward and honest. A part of Luke wants to smack him across his face, while another part thinks that riding him so amazingly that he ends up completely at Luke’s mercy sounds like fun.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Ashton. What’s yours?”
“Luke.” Grabbing his jacket, Luke stands up and quirks an eyebrow at Ashton. “You coming, then?”
A flicker of something surprised flies over Ashton’s face, but he stands up and follows Luke out of the bar and a couple of minutes down the street, to where Luke’s hotel is. With a familiar nagging doubt in the back of his head, Luke does end up riding Ashton. Seeing Ashton fall apart underneath him, rendered breathless and almost speechless save for a few, “You good?” while Luke sinks down onto him and starts to move, is just as satisfying as Luke was expecting.
The room is dark and Luke can barely see Ashton’s face, but he feels the desperate clutch Ashton has on his hips and he hears the gasping moans and the occasional mumble of, “Shit, you’re good,” and, “Jesus fuck…” Luke has no notion of how much time has passed by the time Ashton wraps his fingers around Luke’s cock and starts stroking him with slightly jerky movements, but he knows he doesn’t last for more than a minute or so after that. Digging his fingernails into Ashton’s pecs, he throws his head back and gasps loudly as he comes, barely registering that Ashton reaches his high with a groan and a string of curses, holding Luke down as his hips jerk.
Luke waits until Ashton’s body has gone still underneath him before he hoists himself up using his knees and flops down on his back next to Ashton. Closing his eyes as his breathing slowly evens out, he’s only vaguely aware of Ashton mumbling something under his breath and wiping his hand off on the sheets.
“That was fun,” Luke says, his voice cracking a little.
“Mhm,” Ashton agrees. "You okay?"
"Yeah, thanks. You?"
“All good.”
The room is completely quiet for about two seconds before the mattress shifts and the unmistakable sound of Ashton getting up prompts Luke to open his eyes and loll his head to the side.
There's barely enough light in the room for Luke to be able to make out Ashton’s silhouette going to the bathroom. He returns a few moments later, bending over to pick up his clothes. Frowning a little, Luke sits up and watches as Ashton puts on his underwear, socks and pants.
“You’re leaving already?” he asks.
Ashton stills for a moment in the middle of buttoning up his shirt. Chuckling a little, he asks, “What, you wanted me to stay for cuddles and pillowtalk?”
Luke rolls his eyes. “No, I was gonna kick you out, but I figured I’d be polite enough to let you catch your fucking breath first.”
“My breath is fine, so what’s the problem?” Ashton asks as he pats the pockets of his pants, presumably checking to make sure his belongings are still there.
Luke lets out a scoff, feeling a little incredulous at the entire exchange. “The problem is that it’s supposed to be my idea that you get out. If it’s your decision and I don’t get a say in it, it just makes me seem sad and pathetic.”
“I think we’re both already sad and pathetic, Liam.”
“It’s Luke.”
“Sure.”
“You’re rude,” Luke says sourly. “Has anyone ever told you?”
“And your plan of kicking me out wasn’t?” Ashton challenges. “Look, Luke, this was fun, but I’m leaving now, okay?”
“I— no, not okay,” Luke snaps. “I’m supposed to kick you out, you can’t just—”
“Should’ve moved faster then, yeah?” Ashton cuts in, a hint of something impatient edging his words. “Better luck next time.” Without another word, he turns on his heel, walks over to the door, opens it, steps out, then slams it shut without offering Luke as much as a goodbye or a second glance.
Luke sits there on the bed, staring slack jawed at the door for a full twenty seconds before he lies down and yanks the covers over himself so violently that the bottom halves of his legs end up bare. He doesn’t bother fixing it, too busy focusing on the anger and shock that’s coursing through him.
He has to up his game, clearly, because he’s not letting someone get one over on him like that ever again.