Over and Over (Lashton)

Sweater Weather

It’s too cold, whoa

For you here, and now, so let me

Hold, both your hands in

The holes of my sweater.

~The Neighbourhood, “Sweater Weather”

Luke’s POV

When I wake up, Ashton’s gently shaking me awake and I can feel the plane dipping. I quickly look out the window so I don’t get sick. My stomach is so easily upset these days.

I hardly remember waking up at all during the ride, although it was only a couple of hours. What I do remember was hearing the gentle rumbling of the plane, less intimidating when I felt Ashton’s hand resting absentmindedly against my scalp and heard his soft breathing.

All my usual nightmares disappear when I’m with Ashton. I know he’s safe because we’re entangled in each other and we breathe in synchrony.

“We’re almost there,” Ashton says excitedly, peering past me out the window. The ground is rushing up toward us, the lines of the runway approaching quickly. I wince at impact, although it isn’t so bad. Ashton’s still smiling like a little kid; he enjoys plane rides for the most part. Between the delay and the lateness of our plane and everything, by the time we land, it’s going to be really early in the morning.

I don’t know if there are going to be any fans, since this isn’t really prescheduled and there have been no tweets or Keeks for ages. Still, one thing I’ve learned is not to underestimate fangirls (or boys, if they’re out there); they’re sneaky and smart and most importantly, perseverant. They never, ever give up. I’m sure we’ll have some waiting, and since nobody knows Ashton and I are gay and bi respectively, let alone dating, we’ll have to keep it all hush hush for a while. That means no holding hands, no cuddling, no nothing.

I sigh, and Ashton looks worried. Before he can ask why, the plane has come to a complete stop and everybody is bustling around, getting up and grabbing their luggage. I unbuckle my seatbelt. As Ashton is standing up, I grab his arm and whisper, “We have to stay apart until we’re in the car, okay?”

He looks mildly perplexed. “Why?”

“Papparazzi, and we haven’t told anyone yet,” I remind him. He nods and gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

“Until then, I love you,” he replies, and I blush. He turns away to get his things, and I don’t want to be away from him at all. Sometimes, I want to do what’s best for me, not the band. But I’m selfish enough as it is.

Once we’re outside the claustrophobic plane, we convene with Michael and Calum, who are waiting. We head out the tunnel thingy and into the baggage check and whatnot. We all pass, easily. Well, we’re not terrorists, last time I checked.

Amazingly, we’ve avoided any fangirl encounters. Still, Ashton and I keep our distance. You never know when there might be a camera or a fan lurking just around the corner. I mean, we love our fans, but it’s so hard to keep anything private.

Eventually we find the person the staff sent. The taxi takes us to the hotel.

The car ride is quiet and sleepy. Calum drifts off again and slides onto Michael, snoring loudly and drooling. Michael looks entirely put upon. I giggle at the both of them and Ashton decides it’s time for a Keek.

“Hey Keek, sorry it’s been so long,” Ashton says in a whisper. “Calum’s going to murder us later, so thank us while we’re still alive.” He flips the phone toward Calum and Michael. Michael makes an irritated face and Calum snores on.