You're Like Perfection (Lashton Oneshots)

How Did We (End Up Here)?

How Did We (End Up Here)?

Description: Ashton's the upperclassman who likes to tease Luke about his height. Luke's the shy boy who just likes Ashton. High School AU.

Warnings: Fluff, light swearing, feels???

Word Count: 2,056

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"Morning there, string bean."

Not sure how someone can manage to flinch and blush at the same time, but sixteen-year-old Luke Hemmings makes it possible.

"Hello," he whispers.

It's so low that Luke's positive no one hears him in the noisy hallway, especially not the messy-haired boy in front of him but Ashton Irwin, the lovely upperclassman that he's been crushing on since forever, flashes him a bright grin and the blonde's heart beats just a little bit faster. Red seems to become a permanent color on his face as he watches the older boy walk away to join his popular group of friends. Tearing his eyes away from Ashton's broad shoulders and sharp jawline, he hurriedly fixes his books into his bag and makes his way to his first class.

He tries to calm his frantically beating heart and fails miserably.

>>>

"What the hell did your mama feed you that you're so tall?"

The question is asked closely, right beside his ear, and Luke is so surprised he lets out a very embarrassing squawk. It's just by pure luck that he manages not to drop all twenty pages of his research assignment or he'd be screwed in Mr. Gaskarth's AP Chemistry class. The blonde turns quickly to be met with none other than Ashton Irwin and that stupid grin of his.

"Uh..." he trails off stupidly.

And yeah, smooth Luke. Real smooth.

"Cat got your tongue, lanky noodle?" Ashton chuckles and Luke can't help but blush.

Because Ashton is really close to him and the younger boy is trying to keep himself from fainting or doing something equally as mortifying. He can't even look at the wavy-haired boy in the eye, opting for staring at his own sneaker-clad feet.

It's silent for a while and Luke hates himself for being unable to even speak properly when the upperclassman is around.

"See you around, string bean," Ashton finally sighs, walking away.

Luke's gaze lingers on his retreating figure for more than a few moments before he's running off to History.

>>>

"You should just tell him that you like him."

Luke glares at the smug, pale-faced boy before him that he calls a best friend.

"I can't, Mikey," the blonde whines, burying his face in his hands. "He doesn't even like me like that."

And Luke's 99.9% Ashton's not gay.

Michael scoffs, running a hand through his dyed-black hair. Luke feels like he should stop dyeing it before it all falls out but he knows his best friend will never listen so what's the point, really?

"All he does is call me names and invade my personal space until I'm so nervous, I can't even form a proper sentence," Luke spits out with a pout. "I'm so pathetic."

"Yep, you are," Michael laughs, earning another glare. "But you should still tell him. Boys like Ashton only do those things because they're actually interested."

"You mean name calling is a now a form of courtship?" Luke frowns. "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Michael takes a sip of his soda, shrugging and motioning his head to the space behind Luke.