#5soshalloweenevent2020

Michael loved Halloween. He was pretty sure it was his absolute favourite holiday, and would say that to almost anyone who dared to ask, though most people who knew him knew not to. It was in Fall, so it was nice and chilly, and he had an excuse to bundle up in hoodies and stay there until spring. And he was an absolute slut for horror movies of any sort. He absolutely adored them, no matter how cheesy and poorly-produced. If he had any talent in it at all, he said fairly regularly to his few friends, he’d be an SFX artist. But he didn’t, and he was stuck working as a barista and getting his degree in film studies. 

So when his best friend in the whole fucking world landed a job working with Sydney’s infamous haunted house - known for being realistic, and terrifying, and all the makeup being technically perfect - and invited him to come see it, insisted he can get him in, who was he to say no? He absolutely couldn’t refuse - didn’t even want to, and he’d wanted to go for years, so this was the opportunity of a lifetime - and that was that. It was most of his favourite things all rolled up into one, with the bonus of it being sort of exclusive. Because it was so well known, they always ended up having to open a month early, and the line still wrapped halfway around the block every night. Michael was going to get a backstage pass to all sorts of shit. 

He dressed fairly warm for the occasion, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough yet to justify it, with his hoodie on, oversized so he could cover his hands with the sleeves. Sue him, okay, it was comfortable and warm and he liked tugging on the sleeves or his hoodie strings when he was anxious. Not that he ever wanted anyone to know he’s anxious. Michael worked fairly hard on keeping that part hidden away, so no one else could ever see it. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, exactly. He just...didn’t want anyone knowing. It took level eleven Michael friendship to unlock his insecurities, thank you, and even then, there weren’t many he'd really disclose.

Sydney never got properly cold, so the hoodie was more than enough to keep him warm in the chilly end-of-September breeze. He made his way to the haunted house, queuing up in the line with the rest of the people preparing for the best fucking scares of their lives. 

The waiting process was the worst part of the whole thing. It was just him standing by himself in line, bouncing slightly on his heels every so often and worrying with his sleeves, from excitement, nerves, and maybe it was actually slightly chilly for once. He texted his friend a few times, only to get no reply. He frowned at his phone after twenty minutes of trying with no success. He was supposed to come get Michael at some point. If he was waiting to show him around at the end, wouldn’t he want to know which group he’d be in, or when he was going through the haunted house? Or at least answer him and tell him what his plan was? Apparently fucking not, though, since he made it up to the front without a single stupid text.

His jitters weren’t helped at all by that, but he eventually just jammed his phone into his hoodie pocket and hoped it didn’t fall out in the house. Michael and the people around him were finally let into the haunted house and given the long list of instructions. It was all the usual shit, that everything inside was fake, and to keep that in mind. To remember that the actors were just actors. And to go over the last few warnings - like that the actors would jump out, target people to scare them, ask questions, and generally, you know, act. Everyone agreed to the rules with varying degrees of excitement, and then they were all corralled into the waiting area. 

Michael was back to bouncing slightly in place, hoodie sleeves fully over his hands at this point. The decorations weren’t too scary yet, just meant to keep the haunted mansion theme going. The premise was something about a doctor and his torture chamber and all his patients gone wrong or something. Michael has forgotten a couple of the details, but he remembered the gist of it. He couldn’t make out anything specific, really, not through the awful dim lighting and the light fog rolling in close to the ground, thanks to the hidden fog machines, only adding to the chill in the cold building. 

One of the women in front of him was murmuring quietly to her boyfriend, gripping tightly to his hand. She didn’t seem much like she really wanted to be there. Michael hoped, for her sake, she’d remembered the safe word. Which was a nice touch, making sure everyone could yell it if needed. That rule was burned into his brain: if you yelled the safe word - mercy - any actor nearby would drop their act and escort you to the nearest exit, and you would absolutely not be allowed back in. Michael wanted to make sure he remembered it, but this was practically a once in a lifetime chance, and he really didn’t want to blow it. 

Finally - finally - they were allowed into the actual haunted house. The first room wasn’t too bad, just the doctor guy’s living room with some narration about who he’d been and a little about his ‘abominations’. Michael got enthralled in the story pretty quickly, gaze lingering on the (fake) family portraits on the (equally fake) mantle and on the walls. 

Room two brought a couple of scares, but he still wasn’t doing too badly. They were easily moved from room to room, sticking together in a clump. When the narration ended, basically, that was their cue to move on. Or for some sort or scare to jump out. 

But, of course, the greatest horror house in Sydney wouldn’t stay predictable. After room number three, the smooth transition was broken up by a long, dark corridor, with the sides pressing in on everyone as they went through. Michael curled in a little on himself, shuffling forward so close to the next person in line that he accidentally stepped on their heels. They didn’t even have time to be annoyed before they were in the next room. 

After room number four was worse. They went down an equally dark staircase, Michael’s grip on the handrail white-knuckled, pale skin almost luminous even in the pitch black. He shuffled forward once he managed his way down, unable to see anything, but didn’t bump into anyone. Which was...odd, given how tightly packed they’d all been up to this point. He took a gamble and swallowed his pride, sticking both arms out and stumbling forward, completely blind in the dark. Only then did the awful strobe light kick on above him, even fucking worse than the dark. He only got vague glimpses of where he was, and he couldn’t even see anyone around him in whatever room he was in. Fucking great, he had the best fucking luck in the entire world. Which he mumbled to himself as he continued his blind zombie-shuffle forward until his outstretched hand brushed a wall. Finally. 

He kept that palm pressed against the smooth (fake) stone, moving in one direction he chose to believe was forward. He was pretty sure it was the opposite direction from the staircase, at least. Hopefully he’d make some progress that way. This was so fucked. Where had his group gone? He was very, very sure he’d been with them. They’d filed down the staircase with him, hadn’t they? Where the fuck were they? Where the fuck was he? This certainly seemed like a fucking dungeon. 

He kept going until the shadows seemed to stay in one corner. He stretched out his unoccupied left hand, fingers brushing against another wall. He let out a frustrated groan, quiet and under his breath, even though he was pretty damn sure he was alone. He pressed his hand against it, palm against the cool stone, and he felt it open with a soft click. And he really didn’t care what was on the other side, he just wanted out of the stupid fucking strobe lights. 

And, of course the strobe lights turned off as he stepped towards the open door. His luck was so fucking perfect today, wasn’t it? 

He stepped through the hidden door (or whatever it was, Michael really didn’t care at this point), letting it slowly close behind him with the same soft click that definitely wasn’t ominous at all. This room, at least, wasn’t completely pitch black. There were lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and fake torches along one stone wall, that provided dim lighting. He skirted over to the side of the dungeon that was lit, gaze lingering on the shadowy side. His eyes still hadn’t really adjusted to the lighting, still absolutely fucked up from the stupid fucking strobe light. He would enjoy this a lot more if he knew this was intentional - if it was intentional - or if he was with his fucking group. Sue him, okay, maybe this shit was slightly better with company. 

He heard something shift from the direction of the door, gaze sliding over there. The room really wasn’t that open, and was pretty small in size. He felt something brush his left shoulder and jumped, stumbling forward toward the shadowy side of the dungeon room - backward, now, maybe, since he definitely whirled around to look at whatever the fuck had poked him, only to find nothing but the stone wall. What the fuck was this fucking place? He knew that wasn’t a bat. Maybe it was a bat? He really, really didn’t know. 

There was a weird sound from the shadowy side of the dungeon, which he was way, way closer to, now. He turned to look at it, only to flinch back when something lunged at him, snarling. Michael whirled around to look and let out an absolutely dignified shriek, reacting entirely on instinct, which was the only reason he realized, seconds too late, that that horrifying crunching noise had been his fist colliding with the thing’s nose. 

The thing, that he was now realizing, was an actor, chained to the wall with long chains. They’d made the noise earlier, scraping against the floor, as the actor had shifted. Probably. “Oh, fuck,” Michael said automatically, eyes widening. His knuckles fucking hurt, sure, but he was more focused on the poor actor. 

The makeup was, as promised, spectacular. He was a half-turned werewolf, shirtless and covered in gruesome patches of fur and deep, gory claw marks. He had some sort of fangs in, too, and weird orange contacts that definitely made him look feral. What Michael was most focused on, though, was the blood dripping from his nose that was definitely not stage makeup. 

The actor had a small frown on his face, two fingers coming up to gently touch his nose. He let out a soft hiss, frown pulling more at his lips. “Damn,” he murmured. 

“Oh, fuck,” Michael said, ever so eloquent. “Oh, fuck. Dude, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t- I’ve never hit someone before in my life, I don’t know what the fuck-“

The actor shook his head. “It’s alright. It happens.” He gave him a small smile, one corner of his lips pulling up, before it dropped right back into a frown. Probably aggravated his injured nose. That Michael had done. Fuck. “Hazard of the job, you know? I told them not to activate the strobe lights and then put a jump scare after them. They make people jumpy since they fuck with your vision. They put people on edge. And then to have someone jump at you out of the dark….” He just looked sort of amused. Vindicated, too, maybe. “I figured it would happen at some point. I just got lucky until now, I guess.”

“Fuck, I’m so….I don’t even…..I’m so sorry,” Michael said again, brows drawing together. He really hadn’t meant to. Had he made that clear enough yet? He hadn’t meant to. His panic wasn’t helped by how fucking cute the werewolf was. 

The werewolf just ran a hand through his brown curls, pushing them back out of his eyes. “It’s alright. Really. It happens.” He eyed Michael, amusement in his eyes despite Michael’s clear panic. “I’m Ashton, by the way.”

Michael felt like he was still a few steps behind. Shouldn’t the werewolf be mad at him? Or kicking him out of the haunted house or something? “Oh. Uh. I’m Michael.” Ashton was a pretty name. And Michael was pretty sure it suited him, since it was clear Ashton was pretty attractive, even under all the makeup. And the blood. His nose was definitely bruised.

Speaking of his bloody nose, Ashton pressed two fingers right below it again, frowning as they came away covered in blood. “Well, Michael, you can definitely pack a punch.” He looked almost amused again before it gave way to concern. “Are you okay?”

Michael’s internal monologue still hadn’t shifted from ‘fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck.’ on loop in his head, so it took him a second to register the question. He still felt like he was short circuiting, adrenaline from the scare and the acute embarrassment immediately after still tingling up his spine and all the way to his shaking hands, fingers trembling a little where they were uncovered by the hoodie sleeves. “Wha- me? I’m- yeah? Fine, I- yeah, uh, think. I think, I mean. I mean I am, I’m fine. Okay. Yeah. Good.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow, stepping just a little closer. Michael was pretty sure he could hear his own heartbeat, too loud and too fast, echoing in his ears. Not loud enough to cover the unsettling scrape of metal against stone as Ashton’s chains moved with him. He focused on breathing, pretty sure he’d stopped for a second, inhaling the stale taste of the synthetic fog, permeating through the entire building, though the air lacked the telltale haze of a fog machine, and the equally stale, dank smell of the room itself. It was grounding, sort of. He was definitely not freaking out, though. Not at all. Not with Ashton right in front of him now, gaze fixed on him, Michael’s right hand still tingling, knuckles still aching. This definitely wasn’t social anxiety nightmare fuel. He was definitely perfectly fine.

Ashton reached for Michael’s hand, Michael numbly letting him take it, unable to do much more than watch. Ashton leaned forward a little, chains scraping again against the floor to make the worst sort of unholy noise, grating on Michael’s frayed nerves, thankfully on the edge of what he was paying attention to. He was too focused on how warm Ashton’s hands were, fake blood splattered over them like he was supposed to look like he’d been clawing at himself. “You’re bruised,” Ashton said, inspecting Michael’s knuckles where they’d made contact with Ashton’s nose. “Or, you will be, at least. You didn’t hit as hard as you could have, so I think you’re okay.”

With Ashton tilted forward, it was easier to see that he was definitely still bleeding - which, fucking duh, it hadn’t been that long since he’d punched him - dripping slowly but steadily onto the floor. Noticing Michael’s gaze, probably, Ashton took a few steps back out of Michael’s space, head still tilted forward a little. He lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, giving Michael what was probably supposed to be a lazy half smile. 

“Should you- do you need help?” Michael asked lamely. It was a pretty fucking stupid question, since he’d literally just punched Ashton in the nose. And he was bleeding.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Ashton said, as calm and collected as he’d been the whole time. And fantastic, at least one of them was. “I’d go tell someone, but I’m a little bit stuck.” He raised his free hand, chains rattling a little bit. “I’m actually chained to the wall. Someone comes by and lets me out between every couple groups or every couple hours so I can use the bathroom and grab a drink and all that shit. I can’t get myself out on my own.”

“Oh, fuck.” Michael frowned. “That seems like a pretty big fuckin’, like design flaw. Who the fuck came up with that?”

Ashton laughed, short and sweet before he cut himself off, probably because his nose hurt. Which sent a jolt of regret and embarrassment through Michael. “There’s a lot of stuff like that for the sake of ‘authenticity’. Don’t tell anyone I told you, they’d have my head. I don’t mind too much, though. Only lasts two months every year, and it’s fun. Well, except for the occasional scare that goes too well.” He gestured at his face to prove his point, smile tugging slightly at his lips again before it dropped.

Michael didn’t get a chance to reply before someone came in, freezing at the sight of Ashton slightly tipped forward, nose still dripping, but much slower before, and Michael standing stiff and shocked in place. “Oh, fuck,” the stranger said, echoing Michael’s sentiments. “What the fuck happened?” 

“Well, Michael here got so startled when I jumped out that he hit me.” Ashton answered for the two of them. “We’re all good, he didn’t mean to. He’s been keeping me company.” He winked at Michael, making Michael’s face heat up, especially noticeable in the gloomy chill of the fake dungeon room. 

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” the strange guy said, immediately moving forward to free Ashton from the stupid chains. “So, you mean, the same shit you kept saying was gonna happen, happened?”

Ashton let out some sort of noise that was probably meant to be a laugh. “Yeah, pretty much exactly.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” the stranger said again, succeeding in freeing Ashton. He leaned in close to look at his nose, frowning. “Well. You definitely need to be cleaned up. You’re out of commission for tonight, we’ll just leave the room empty and the supervisors can suck my dick. Come on, let’s clean you up and get you an ice pack or something, and you can sit down for a while.” He wrapped an arm around Ashton, hand splayed out in the middle of his back. They were clearly comfortable with each other, and had the easy familiarity of close friends. Or something. The stranger nodded his head at Michael. “You, uh, Michael, was it? You can come with us, we’ll get you out.” He paused. “Unless you want to finish the house..? But I’m gonna take a wild guess and say probably not, after that.”

Michael startled a little at being addressed, temporarily forgetting he had a corporal form. “Oh. Uh. No, not really. I”m- that was enough, I think.”

The stranger nodded his head. “Makes sense. You kind of got separated from your group, it looks like. Usually people are in groups of two and three. You sort of had shitty luck tonight, huh?” He said it kindly, though. Like he was sympathetic. “My name’s Calum, by the way.”

“He’s not usually the responsible one,” Ashton teased, shooting Calum an amused look, only making Calum roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Ashton. You’re always Mr. Responsible. That’s why we’re going to patch up your boo boo.” Calum patted his back consolingly, shooting Michael a grin. “So is this your first time here?”

Michael glanced up, fingers pausing mid-tug where he’d been fiddling with his hoodie sleeves. “Oh. Yeah, it is. Uh. Always wanted to come but it’s hard to get in and last year I got stuck closing most days and couldn’t make it early enough.”

Calum nodded, like it was a solemn affair, or he was thinking. Michael’s ability to figure things out - he was pretty sure it was called perception, but it just proved his point - was absolutely shot through with his adrenaline. He was still waiting for someone to get pissed at him, to kick him out and ban him for life. “It’s a fun place, yeah. I can’t remember if I actually ever went through it before getting to work here and see ‘behind the scenes,’ but we get pretty good reviews.” Calum grinned. “I’d say a bloody nose means you’re pretty fuckin’ scary, Ash.”

Ashton let out a half laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Or people scared shitless and blind in the dark don’t like jumpscares. One of the two.”

Calum had led them through a couple dark, narrow back hallways, clearly meant for the employees, the whole time they’d been chatting. They get to the doorway of a brighter-lit room and hear a woman gasp. “Oh, Ashton! What happened to you? Oh, god, it wasn’t those dicks from last night again, was it? I swear I’ll hunt them down-”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ashton consoled, stepping into the room where the woman started fawning over him, leaning up to inspect his face and make sure he was okay. Calum, letting her take over, gently nudged Michael out of view and stepped back into shadow with him.

“Look, Ashton’s a trooper, he’s okay,” Calum murmured, nothing but soothing sincerity in his eyes and coating his voice. “I promise. You seem pretty worried but, uh...The floor managers might not be too happy, you know? We’re missing our werewolf for the rest of the night, so the room will be empty...No one else gives a shit, I promise, I just mean that if you want to come back, you might want to leave before anyone figures it out, you know? Not personal at all.” He gave him a sweet smile that probably would’ve rendered Michael incoherent and weak-kneed any other time, but with his nerves as wired and burnt-out as they were, it only tugged at his anxiety-ridden heartstrings.

“Actually,” Calum continued, tilting his head, “I can get you a ticket or something for another night if you want to do this again.” He gave him a lopsided smile. “You know, as long as you don’t hit another actor again.” Michael assumed he must’ve looked panicked, because Calum was quick to console him. “Hey, hey, I’m kidding. Sorry, too soon.”

“Holy, fuck, Ashton, is that real?” Someone else asked, entering the room behind them.

Calum looked back at Michael, expression apologetic. “I’ve gotta- I’ll have to run damage control, Alisha - the girl - is nice but he’ll need, uh, help. Uh...The exit’s right through there, down the stairs, to the left. If you can get back before we open sometime, cut the line and ask for me. Uh. Calum. That should get you in.” Michael only realized Calum had put a hand on his arm at some point when he squeezed it gently and let go.

With another hasty apology, Calum had to return to Ashton and the whole mess Michael had caused. Michael stumbled on nerve-numb feet through the dark employee back-passageways, hearing the occasional shriek from the haunted house proper. He couldn’t help but berate himself and wish he’d done the entire fucking thing differently. And where the fuck had his friend been? Maybe he wouldn’t have been so nervous to begin with if the fucker had actually texted him back at some point. 

This whole thing had been social-anxiety massive-fuckup nightmare fuel. Seriously, Michael thought as he finally managed to make his way out of the stupid house into the city, shivering in the much-cooler nighttime air, this was going to haunt him for years. Let alone punching anyone in the first place - his hand still sort of hurt, though not a proper hurt, more like the vague ache wrapped in the anxiety-spiking memory of what he’d done - but punching an absolutely gorgeous guy in the face? Fucking hell. Worst thing he could think of.

It was still fresh on his mind as he tucked himself into bed, fresh from a shower as he’d tried to scrub the stupid memory off his skin. He just hoped he managed to actually get over this and it didn’t haunt him forever. Though, he’d been pretty fucking haunted when he’d gone to grab pizza and when the guy had said “enjoy your meal,” he’d said “you too, thanks, mum.” He hadn’t even realized his mistake until he’d gotten outside with his prized pizza. In his defense, he’d been texting his mom, and gotten mixed up. There wasn’t really a defense here.

Fuck. He really hoped this didn’t haunt him.  

-----------------------------------

Well. It haunted him. That first night had really, really sucked. Like...really sucked. It had taken ages to manage to fall asleep after that, since every time he tried, he was painfully reminded of the moment he hit Ashton right in the nose, and how awful that had felt. And everything afterward had just been an anxiety-fueled mess. 

He had class the day after, too, which really fucking sucked, but it meant he didn’t have to sit and dwell on every single mistake he’d ever made in his life. The biggest one was obviously his birth, followed very closely by hitting Ashton. He decided, though, by the end of that day, that he definitely wanted to go apologize again. Just because it hadn’t felt quite like enough just saying he was sorry. He needed to actually prove it somehow. Maybe. Or he was just an idiot. Only time would really tell. 

He got a gift card for the coffee shop where he worked, because he got a discount on it, and everyone liked coffee. Did Ashton like coffee? He really hoped he did. He was still kicking himself for not getting his number so he could make sure he was okay and apologize, but, in his own defense, everything had gone upside-down topsy-turvy really, really fast. 

He got down to the haunted house, still a while before it actually opened. He went straight to the front of the line, remembering Calum’s promise to get him in. Hopefully he could use the advice to apologize properly to Ashton. The guy at the front of the line was kind of a dick towards him, but Michael managed to find a worker in one of the designated t-shirts for the house. 

“Hey, uh, is Calum or Ashton here?” Michael asked, praying he didn’t seem near as awkward as he felt. He just wanted to apologize and leave before he embarrassed himself any further, that was all. Everything was fine. It was fine. 

“Oh, yeah. Are you one of their friends or something?” The guy glanced at him before shrugging. “Calum’s working customer service and merch. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

Michael followed the guy into the house, down a hallway that wasn’t super obvious, to what was clearly right after the exit of the house. There was a booth set up, shirts dangling from the top and displayed in the back, along with magnets and other sorts of merch along the table. Calum was sitting behind it, earbuds in, focused solely on his phone. The guy Michael had been following tapped on the table to get his attention, making Calum’s eyes snap up. He grinned over at Michael, pausing his music and tugging his earbuds out. 

“I’ve got to get back to the front, but this guy was asking for you and Ashton. You know him?”

Calum’s smile didn’t dissipate. It didn’t do much to sooth the suddenly overactive butterflies in Michael’s stomach. “Yeah, I do. I’m good, you can go.” The guy nodded and left, leaving Michael alone with Calum. 

“Hey,” Calum greeted, grinning again. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back. I was hoping you would. Are you here for the house?” His smile went coy. “Or for me?” He was clearly teasing, but Michael’s face flushed. 

“Uh. I- well. Uh. I came- well, I’m here to apologize. Yeah. To, uh. To Ashton. Again. For hitting him. I mean, by accident. I didn’t mean to.” And wow, way to be smooth. Michael just didn’t know how to function around cute guys at all. Especially not when they sounded like they could possibly be flirting with him, if they were on another planet, where people actually flirted with Michael. 

Calum just gave him another sweet smile, standing and leaning against the table. Michael definitely didn’t pay attention to the way Calum’s back arched, or the way he tilted his head sometimes without meaning to, or how good his jeans looked on him. He didn’t see any of that at all because he was a good person. He just..wasn’t blind. And Calum was cute. “Ashton’s fine. I think he’s working tonight, but I can shoot him a text.” Michael didn’t even have to reply before Calum was pulling his phone out of his back pocket and sending a text, presumably to Ashton. 

“The house opens soon,” Calum continued, “but we’ll see if we can get him up here.” He smiled a little. “You know, after you hit him by accident, they tested out some fake chains. They thought it worked great - until they did a test run, and Ashton broke them when he moved forward. Guess even plastic couldn’t hold up to his upper body strength, huh?” He smiled, eyes squinting a little when Michael flushed darker. Everything was absolutely, perfectly fine. 

Calum’s phone vibrated again and he checked it. “Oh, shit. He’s a bit hung up right now. You want to stick around for a minute and see if he can swing up here? I can give you a bit of a behind-the-scenes tour.” 

Michael considered but nodded. “Yeah, uh. That would be great.” His friend - who still hadn’t fucking gotten back with him, it had been two days, asshole - was supposed to do that when he’d originally come to the house. Better late than never, at least, even if he’d never gotten to actually make it through the haunted house proper. He just had to survive spending time with a super cute guy in the stupidly narrow employee hallways. 

Calum grinned again. “Great!” He slid over the top of the table, knocking a couple magnets to the floor. He glanced at them before shrugging. “I’ll deal with that when I’m back. Come on.” He grabbed Michael’s wrist, his hold warm and gentle, and lightly tugged him towards another hallway. “So what do you want to see first? How we put everything together? How we make a couple of the rooms function? Where we keep all the fog machines?”

“Uhhh……” That was….a lot of options. Michael honestly wasn’t sure where to start. The last comment earned Calum a laugh, short and a little nervous. “Anything?”

Calum nodded sagely, like Michael had made some interesting comment that could be considered, instead of fumbling over his words. “I’ll just start with the basic tour then.”

Calum tugged him into another room, launching into an explanation of how they put it together, and how it matched up with the other rooms in the house. He talked about how they had speakers in each room, and made sure the haunted house genuinely felt like an old rundown mansion with a stone basement. The next room was every bit as interesting, if a bit colder.

“That,” Calum explained, “would be because we keep one of the fog machines in this false wall.” He knocked on it, the sound hollower than a real wall would have made. “It adds to the vibe.”

Michael just agreed that it did, in fact, add to the general vibe of the haunted house, unsure what else to say to that. 

“You know,” Calum said, eyes lighting up a little when he smiled, bright and mischievous, “I’m pretty sure they spent most of the decorating budget on the fog machines. In order to get the light fog in the dungeons, we had to keep one every couple rooms. And then the one in the front room, so people know we’re spooky.” He wiggled his fingers with his free hand, his other hand still warm on Michael’s wrist where he hadn’t let go yet.

Michael laughed, earning another triumphant smile from Calum. “That sounds right,” he said honestly. The basement - or what little he’d seen of it, at least - had definitely been neat, with the very light fog swirling around his ankles. He just hadn’t really made it that far.

And, like Calum was a mindreader, he almost immediately said “Hey, you didn’t finish the house, right? Want to get a tour of the basement? I can show you where I had to use Klorox wipes to get Ashton’s blood off the floor.” Another grin, clearly amused with himself.

“Uh...Yeah, okay, that sounds good,” Michael said, ever so eloquent. Being in the presence of a pretty guy did not help him at all, only serving to shut down any critical thinking skills he’d ever had.

“Great! This way-” Calum started to gently lead him out of the room, hand still warm on Michael’s wrist in the chill of the room, before he was interrupted by his phone buzzing. “Fuck, what now?” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, which Michael found impressive given how stupidly tight they were. Calum let out a huff, letting go of Michael’s wrist so he could send a text back. “Fuckin’ hell. I’m gonna have to go.” He gave Michael a look that really looked like apologetic puppy dog eyes, but Calum somehow pulled it off. “We’re letting in the first group soon. I’ve gotta go back to my booth.”

“Oh, shit.” Michael was pretty sure that was the right response. He was still distracted by the smiles Calum had flashed him just moments before. Sue him, his weakness was cute guys, okay? And social interaction. Especially social interaction with aforementioned cute guys. Like Calum.

“I’m sorry. I guess Ashton will be wrapped up in that, too.” Calum frowned, thinking for a moment. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Michael flushed, a natural reply to being asked that by A Cute Guy. “Uh. Yeah. I have class in the morning, but I’m free after.”

Calum grinned again. “Great. Swing by here again? You can ask for either me or Ashton. We’ll get you taken care of, don’t worry.” He winked at Michael, smile still on his face. Michael felt himself flush deeper, praying it wasn’t too visible in the dim lighting of the haunted house.

“Yeah, uh, okay. I can...I can do that.” Maybe he was reassuring himself a little bit. But it would be fun. Calum led him back out of the room, his hand going to the small of Michael’s back, warm even through his hoodie. If Michael’s blush had faded, that brought it back full force. Calum’s hand dropped once they were back in the hallway, but his hand brushed Michael’s on every other step as he led him back to the front, to the area where Calum’s merch booth was.

“Here we are. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Calum asked, expression earnest. He squatted to pick up a couple of the magnets and buttons that he’d knocked to the floor earlier. Michael definitely didn’t glance at his butt, because he was a very nice person, and very good at resisting things. 

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be here.” Michael was completely fucking incapable of going one sentence without stumbling over his words. It was annoying. It was like being near any attractive guy whatsoever made his brain completely short circuit and stop working. He was pretty sure he just suffered from Dumb Bitch-itis or whatever. It was fine.

After a quick goodbye, Michael made his way to the exit and started the walk back home again. He couldn’t say that excursion was really a failure but he still hadn’t done what he’d meant to do. How many cute guys could work there, anyway? That had to be it. So hopefully he’d function properly next time he had to go, even if Calum and Ashton both completely shut his brain down. The gift card was still in his pocket, even as he reluctantly shucked his outside-hoodie to switch to his sleeping-hoodie. At least this time he didn’t have too much to haunt him before he fell asleep.

Except punching Ashton, his brain helpfully supplied. And with that, his hopes for some peaceful sleep went out the window, just like his critical thinking skills had earlier when he’d had to talk to Calum.

-----------------------------------

Michael prayed that this was the last time he’d have to go to the house. He didn’t dislike it, honestly, it was interesting and incredibly well put together. But he really just wanted to apologize to Ashton and have the whole thing be done with. Or, half of him did, at least. He hated when things got drawn out like this, and something hung over his head. He didn’t like feeling like he owed any debts at all. The other half of him, though, kind of didn’t want it to be over. Because then he wouldn’t get to see Calum or Ashton again. And alright, maybe he was a bit of an emotional masochist knowing that they wouldn’t like him but it was...nice, kind of, hanging out with people. And he wasn’t going to complain about getting to hang out with cute guys. Like...ever.

The thing was, though, it wasn’t like he could really be friends with them. He’d fucking punched Ashton right in the face for fuck’s sake. The friendship ship had long since sailed, and he’d lost any chance of talking to him like a functional person as soon as he’d panicked and hit him. Which sort of destroyed any chances he had in befriending Calum. And maybe he was a little bit lonely, and tired of spending all his free time by himself. The cute guys at the haunted house were a no-go, though, so he wanted to be done with them as soon as he could be.

Michael tugged his hoodie back on, and made his way back out into the outside world, where people weren’t so kind, and there were cute boys to accidentally hit and regret your entire life over. He didn’t want to think about having to talk to Ashton again, or Calum, doing his best to save all of his brain power for actually having to socialize, rather than wasting it on indulging his anxiety now.

He cut through the line again, though it was a bit earlier this time, so it wasn’t as long as it had been, and made his way to the front of the house. One of the workers, in the same haunted house shirts he’d see the others in the days before, stopped him.

“I’m here for Ashton?” Michael said, still not entirely sure of himself, like this wasn’t the second time he’d come back to the house and had to ask for them. “Or Calum.”

The girl glanced Michael up and down quickly, seeming to assess whether or not he was telling the truth. And really, why the fuck would he bother lying? He wasn’t even really trying to get into the house, but apologize fully to Ashton so he could hopefully stop being haunted by the memory of his major fuck-up.

“Alright, come on,” she said, turning on her heel and leading him inside. He followed her back through the room Calum had been stationed in the day before, the merch booth left empty, now, no cute guys with equally cute smiles there to drag him through the maze of the house.

The girl led her down a couple hallways Michael definitely didn’t remember, but he really hadn’t been paying as much attention to the hallways of all things the last time he’d been there. But he was pretty sure he didn’t remember any of this. Which was only reaffirmed when she stopped in a doorframe. “Luke,” she called in, hand on the doorframe. “This guy’s asking for Calum and Ashton. I’m busy downstairs. Can you try and track them down for him?” 

Michael could see over her shoulder, but couldn’t see who she was talking to. Luke gave her some form of affirmative, he guessed, because then she was turning back to look at him. “Right. You stay here with Luke. He should be able to find Calum and Ashton. You can wait with him. Good luck.” She turned and headed off back down a couple narrow hallways, leaving Michael more confused than he had been before she’d tried to help.

“Come in, I don’t bite,” came a guy’s voice from the other side of the room. Michael reluctantly shuffled in, already tugging his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. How many times was he going to be shuffled from person to person before he managed to actually give Ashton his stupid gift card and go back to his life of reclusivity, hidden away in his single dorm room. Then he’d finally get to forget how massively he’d fucked up, and not have to think about all the stupidly cute boys that worked at the stupid haunted house.

The room had several chairs set up, with a couple of tables cluttered with a bunch of weird bottles, makeup palettes, and gallons of stage blood. It was empty, except for a girl sitting in one of the chairs, and a guy working on her makeup. He was tall, with ridiculously long legs, and his blond curls pulled back into a small bun, messy, with flyaways wisping around his temples and a couple strands of hair in his eyes when he flashed Michael a quick smile. “Alright,” the guy said, pulling back to inspect his work. “You’re good to go. But maybe try not to fuck up your chest wound next time? It’s not so easy to fix.” She murmured some sort of agreement - and what sounded like an apology - before heading back out, probably to wherever she was supposed to be stationed.

The guy turned to Michael and flashed him a smile, tucking his brush behind his ear and wiping his hands on his thighs before offering one to Michael. “I’m Luke. But, uh, I think you already knew that.” His smile went a little sheepish. Michael just shook his hand, internally cursing himself for having cute boys as a major weakness. Because Luke was definitely cute.

“I’m Michael,” he said, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t yet, and it seemed like the proper time for an introduction. His brain might short circuit a little bit around cute boys, but he didn’t completely forget everything. Usually. Not yet, at least. He was just hoping to keep at least a fraction of his critical thinking skills. So he didn’t end up hitting him in the face, his brain supplied helpfully, even though that had only ever been the one time, and under very different circumstances. It didn’t make him feel much better.

Luke broke into a smile almost immediately, letting out a laugh - more of a giggle, really - that made his nose crinkle. “You’re the guy that punched Ashton,” he said, eyes crinkling a little with amusement. “Holy shit. You’re a legend.”

Michael flushed, feeling his whole face heat up, even though the room was just as chilly as the rest of the haunted house. “Uh. Maybe just a little. The one time.” He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the ground, suddenly a little nervous. Or...more nervous. Luke was just as cute as the others had been, stray glitter stuck to his hands (and Michael’s palm, now, after he’d shook his hand), and his hair in that stupidly endearing bun. And apparently he knew about the biggest fuck up in Michael’s entire life, which really wasn’t all that good for his already not so fantastic self esteem. 

Luke nodded, still looking only a couple seconds from laughing. “The one time. Yeah. Ashton thought it was hilarious. It worked out, though, he got the rest of the day off, and convinced them to fix his position so it hopefully wouldn’t happen again. Well, I mean, they mostly agreed that he could keep his phone on him as long as it was silent so he could call Calum or something to come get him if something happened. But he counted it as a win.”

 Luke leaned against the table, hip causing a couple bottles to fall over. Luke flushed, pink covering his pale skin, as he rushed to sort everything out, right all of the bottles. He knocked one of them off the table, squatting down to grab it and smacking his head against the edge of the table on his way back up. It knocked the brush from behind his ear, which hit the floor with a quiet clatter. Luke managed to stand up properly, though, his face red, and clearly flustered. “Um. Anyway. So you- Uh.” He shook his head, more curls coming free of his bun and dancing around his temples when he moved. “Ashton wasn’t upset, you’re okay. He’s kind of hard to rattle. Calum and him have been joking about it, mostly. They just didn’t mention you were cute.”

Michael had watched Luke’s moment with the bottles, eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he hadn’t wanted to overstep. He’d gotten it sorted, anyway, and his head seemed fine. So he didn’t ask, just watched him with the same slightly cautious expression. Luke’s last sentence threw him off, though, and it was Michael’s turn to flush, staring at Luke a few beats longer than socially acceptable. “Oh, uh- you think- I’m not- I’m pretty, just, you know- uh. Thank you. You’re- the same. Cute. I mean.”

Luke laughed, soft and gentle and warm, meant to be with him rather than at him. Michael’s blush darkened, but he didn’t feel quite so bad about being an absolute idiot. “Thank you,” he said, head tilting a little to the side, smile back on his face. Luke was tall. Taller than Calum and Ashton had been, enough to make Michael aware of the difference. No wonder he’d been clumsy, though he’d seemed to have reclaimed his grace now, lanky limbs seeming only to add to his charm and poise rather than detract from it now that his footing was stable and no bottles were falling on the floor. 

“So why’d you come back, again?” Luke asked, yanking Michael out of his reverie. He’d moved to straighten some of the bottles and makeup palettes cluttered on the table. He glanced at Michael before his eyes shifted back to what he was doing. And yeah, that was definitely stray gold glitter stuck to his hands, front and back. 

“Oh. Uh. I wanted to say sorry to Ashton again. I just...haven’t been able to catch him. Came back yesterday and same thing.” Michael tugged at one of his hoodie sleeves, watching Luke’s long fingers tighten what looked like a tall bottle of latex. And okay, maybe he’d watched a few too many behind the scenes videos of his favourite horror movies, and wasn’t completely brand new to SFX stuff. 

Luke glanced up at him again, interest in his blue eyes and all over his face. His hands paused where they were. “You were here yesterday?”

“Uh. Yeah? I was just with Calum for a while but then he got some text and I didn’t get a chance to see Ashton before I had to leave.” He didn’t know what about that was so interesting, but whatever. At least he wasn’t tripping over his words now and could talk to Luke like a proper functioning human being. 

Luke hummed but didn’t offer an explanation for asking. “Do you want me to do your makeup or something while you wait?” He asked, as random and out of nowhere as anything. 

“What?” Michael asked, brows drawing together again. He was pretty sure Luke hadn’t said what he thought he’d said. 

“Do you want me to do your makeup while you’re waiting?” He repeated, gaze as earnest as ever. He wasn’t lying. 

“I mean, holy shit, yeah,” Michael said, maybe just a tad too eager. Get his makeup done by a makeup artist at the haunted house that had won awards for SFX? Hell fucking yeah! He wasn’t turning that opportunity down. Hopefully it went better than attending the haunted house had. 

Luke beamed, looking absolutely pleased with himself. “Okay, come over here and sit down and I will. Do you want, like, a cut or something? I have a couple spare prosthetic injuries I could use. I know I can’t do the missing eye one on you, you can’t really see in that one. I have a couple of the small claw ones, like I think I used on Ashton? If you want some of those.”

“Uh. Yeah, that works.” Michael made his way over and sat down in the chair, shifting a little bit. He’d never really had his makeup done before, but he was more excited to get to see someone do SFX up close. On him. 

“Can you pull the hoodie off?” Luke asked over his shoulder, starting to sort through his supplies. “I need more space. I can do it right below your collarbone, I think. That’s enough space. With Ashton, I think I slotted some at the top of one of his pecs and then some on his ribs, on his side.” 

Michael flushed but tugged his hoodie off, getting his head stuck in the stupid thing only momentarily, before it was off and he could ball it up in his lap. Luke turned back to look at him, humming softly to himself. He tugged his hair free from the bun, curls falling freely to frame his face, before pulling it right back again. Just like before, curls too short to fit in the bun curled around his temples and his ears. Luke ignored it, stepping closer with the small prosthetic in hand. 

He hummed a little again, eyeing Michael’s collarbones and chest. He tugged the neckline of Michael’s shirt down a little bit, holding the prosthetic up, just below his collarbone as he’d said. “This should work pretty well. Has anyone ever done makeup on you before?” Luke turned to grab something else, probably his adhesive, before turning back and frowning. “It might be easier, since I’ll need both hands for this. You can put it back on afterward, it’ll sit right above your neckline. Right here.” Luke tapped a finger lightly where he planned on putting the prosthetic.

Michael flushed. “Uh. Yeah, okay, I guess.” He really wasn’t used to this. Going shirtless in front of a cute guy? Yeah, that really didn’t happen. Like, ever. He reluctantly tugged his shirt off, though, still not about to turn this opportunity down. The shirt joined his hoodie, both balled up in his lap. He was rewarded with a sweet smile from Luke, before he was surveying the area he wanted to stick the prosthetic, which did little to help Michael’s blush.

“This might be a little bit cold. It’s room temperature, kind of.” Luke started applying the adhesive, completely in Michael’s personal space. “So did you like the house?” He asked, fanning the adhesive with his hand, gaze shifting to Michael’s face. “When you came? Before the thing with Ashton, I mean.”

“Yeah, I did. Uh. I’ve been wanting to come here for years, and I finally got to get a look. I really, really like horror shit, and thought about being an SFX artist but I don’t have the talent at all.” Michael resisted the urge to shift in place, or bounce his leg. He didn’t want to fuck up whatever Luke was doing. “It’s, uh, really well put together. No wonder it’s won awards and shit.”

Luke hummed, tapping the adhesive before grabbing the prosthetic and leaning down, tongue sticking out a little in concentration, as he carefully stuck it down. He held it in place for a moment, pulling back to inspect his work. He moved to grab one of his makeup palettes. “Yeah, it’s a lot of work to pull it together and get everything set up properly. But I can get out of some of it sometimes, since I do makeup.” He grinned at him before starting to add colour to the prosthetic. “You wanted to do SFX?” His gaze flickered up to him again, before again it dropped to what he was doing. “I could always show you some stuff, if you wanted. I’ve been doing it for a couple years, so I think I’d probably be okay at that.”

“Didn’t you guys win something last year for your makeup?” He asked, tilting his head a little bit.

Luke turned pink. “Well, yeah, but that wasn’t just me, that was the whole team. But, um. If you wanted that, I definitely could.”

It was then that it really clicked what Luke was offering. This was a chance for Michael to actually get hands-on experience with SFX and get to see it up close. Not only that, but he’d get the chance to actually do it himself, with someone else’s guidance, and see if he was actually shit at it. And that someone happened to be award winning. And really cute. “Fuck yeah, I definitely want that.” Okay, he needed to curb his excitement. Just a little.

Luke let out another one of his giggles, still working on the colouring of the prosthetic. “Okay. I’m happy to show you. I’ll get your number when I’m done? So we can set up a time?”

Michael definitely didn’t turn pink at that or anything. He was totally suave, totally used to getting cute guys’ numbers, especially while he was shirtless in front of them. Obviously. And maybe that was a little bit of a lie, and this was brand new. And maybe he was a little bit pink. “Uh. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Luke hummed, attention mostly back on the prosthetic. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke up again. “You said you wanted to do SFX. So what do you do instead?”

“Oh, I’m a film student. I work at, uh, Great Awakenings? The coffee shop a couple blocks down from here on campus.” Michael, again, had to resist the urge to shift around in place. Not because it felt weird, but because he didn’t know what to do with himself, or his nervous energy. He couldn’t even tap his foot or anything on the ground, for fear of fucking up what Luke was doing. 

“Oh, that’s neat! I’m doing philosophy right now. Ashton’s doing English. Focusing on literature, I think. And Calum’s doing psychology,” Luke flashed Michael a bright smile before going back to his work, still carefully adding pigment to the prosthetic. 

“Oh, that’s, uh...pretty cool. What made you choose philosophy?” Michael asked. 

Luke hummed a little to himself. “I dunno. Just thought it seemed interesting. I’m pretty happy doing this, but I don’t know if I can make a career out of it. Or if my skills are even enough to try.” He paused. “I know I’m good enough to work here, I just don’t know about beyond that,” he corrected, fingers stilling where they’d been working. It only took a moment before he was back at it again. 

Michael understood that, honestly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s why I’m in film. I don’t know how far I’ll make it, either,” he said honestly. 

Luke gave him a frown, more adorable than it had any right being. “I’m sure you’ll be good at it, Mikey.”

Michael flushed at the nickname, but didn’t have any time to add anything before Luke was turning around to face the table. “Okay, I just have blood and then I’m done.” Luke grabbed the bottle and a tiny brush, turning around to face Michael yet again. He gave him a tiny smile before he was back to work, tongue poking slightly from between his lips in concentration. 

Luke was pretty. Michael was struggling to think about anything else, even with how desperately he wanted to do SFX, and how much he’d wanted to visit the haunted house. It only took a few minutes before Luke pulled back slightly, surveying his work. Good thing, too, Michael was starting to get chilly. “Okay,” he said, eyes still on the prosthetic, forehead creased slightly, lips pulled into a small pout. He looked thoughtful. Michael refused to admit it was adorable. “I think I’m done.” He gave Michael another smile, nose crinkling slightly with this one. 

Michael’s number one weakness was definitely still cute boys, because his brain short circuited immediately. He was saved from having to say anything, though, when a girl poked her head in the door, knocking twice on the doorframe to get Luke’s attention. “Hey, house’s opening in a few. Stand by in case of any fucked up makeup.” Luke just nodded, and then she left. 

Luke frowned a little at Michael. “Okay, you’ll probably have to go before we officially open and groups start coming through. I might get busy, and we aren’t supposed to have visitors.” Luke chewed at his lip, thinking. “Okay. Uh.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket - Michael didn’t know how he fit anything in his pants pockets, they were stupidly tight and didn’t look all that comfortable - and offered it to Michael. “Give me your number? I’ll text you and figure the whole Ashton thing out so you can say sorry to him or whatever. And then I can show you how to do makeup.”

Michael nodded, taking the outstretched phone from Luke and obediently putting his number in. “That, uh, sounds really great. Thanks, Luke.” He passed his phone back and earned another smile from Luke that definitely didn’t make his stomach flip. Michael went ahead and tugged his shirt  back on, careful not to fuck up his new prosthetic. 

“Okay, sweet. Can you find your way out or do you want me to show you?” Luke asked, as sweet as he’d been the whole time. 

Michael shook his head at the offer, though. “I’m okay. I can get out. Thanks, though. I’ll...I’ll catch you around?”

Luke gave him another smile. “Yeah. See you, Mikey.”

Michael made his way out of the haunted house for the third time, hoodie balled up in his hands despite the evening chill so he didn’t get fake blood on it. And maybe he stopped in front of the mirror once he got home to look at his makeup, stupid grin on his face remembering Luke (and the other cute boys that worked there). And maybe, just maybe, that was the first night since he’d punched Ashton that he didn’t seriously struggle to sleep. 

-----------------------------------

Michael had almost forgotten the whole dilemma, when he woke up to a text from Luke. The phone screen was stupidly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom, and he cursed himself for bothering to check his phone in the first place. To be fair, though, he’d only wanted to see the time - he slept with his phone on do not disturb for this very purpose - he hadn’t expected the text.

Luke H: hey, r u free 2day? :-)

Michael stared at the text, blinking sleep out of his eyes, before he managed to get his brain to function enough to reply. And of fucking course Luke added a nose to his emojis. He might have only met the guy once, but it definitely seemed like a Luke thing to do.

Michael: yeah I should be. y?

Michael didn’t have a chance to even roll over before Luke had replied, phone buzzing again in his hand. Did Luke have nothing better to do? It had to be fucking early in the morning, and Michael’s main priority was going back to sleep. Though, in Luke’s defense, it usually was.

Luke H: no reason

Luke H: can u meet me at that coffee shop @ 1 later 2day? 

Luke wasn’t making any more sense, even with his clarifications. And Michael was way too tired to think too much about his cryptic messages. So he just agreed.

Michael: yeah

His phone buzzed again, seconds after he’d hit send. Did Luke have nothing better to do than text Michael at fucking nine am on a Saturday morning? Didn’t he know how to sleep in?

Luke H: great :-)

Michael tossed his phone to the side with a sigh, resolving himself to being awake way, way too early. This wasn’t usually how he spent his mornings; normally, he slept in until noon if he didn’t have work, and spent the day catching up on homework he didn’t feel like doing during the week, and finished the day with pizza and a few rounds of FIFA. He didn’t usually meet cute boys at the coffee chop, for god knows what reason, and he usually didn’t wake up so fucking early.

The rest of his day passed slowly, starting with two cups of coffee to try and keep himself awake and functional. He could hear his mum in his head, reminding him that nine am isn’t even that early, that most people were already awake and functional by that point. So he just shook his head and told his imaginary mum to piss off, and that he wasn’t most people.

He managed to waste most of the day away until he was already running late to meet Luke. He tugged on a hoodie that he’d only worn once that week, making it objectively cleaner than most of his other ones.

By the time he made it to the coffee shop, he was a couple minutes past one. Which was fine, it was pretty standard for Michael. He never really knew what time it was, but he tried his best. At least he was only a couple minutes late this time. Hopefully Luke didn’t mind too much.

Speaking of the devil, Luke had taken a seat in the corner and, when Michael spotted him, was mid-laugh at something Ashton had said to him. Ashton, who was sitting right next to him, grin on his lips. Oh, fuck. Had Michael just been invited to fucking third wheel them or something? You could third wheel a friendship. Michael knew that, from trailing after a pair of best friends when he was a kid, before he’d just decided to be a loner for the rest of his life. But they seemed awfully cuddly now, too. Maybe they’d just invited him to laugh at him.

Or, the much smaller rational part of his brain pointed out, maybe Luke had invited Ashton since Michael had wanted to apologize to him again and had never gotten the chance. Maybe Luke was just being nice.

Michael just did his best to shove all those thoughts aside. There was no point in freaking himself out now that he was already here. Better to just figure out what Luke had planned and get it over with. Or enjoy it, maybe. Maybe. 

Michael made his way over to their table, awkwardly taking his seat in front of them. Luke turned and gave him a bright, happy smile. “Hey, you made it!” He greeted, clearly pleased. “I went ahead and brought Ashton, I hope you don’t mind. You said you wanted to apologize, and we both think you’re pretty cute, so-” Ashton smiled fondly, but nudged Luke anyway.

“Don’t freak him out right after he gets here,” Ashton chided gently. He gave Michael that warm smile, shifting in his chair. “Hey, Michael. Good to see you again.”

Michael nodded a little, socialization abilities immediately leaving him. “You look good,” he said, before flushing. “No, you don’t. I mean - fuck - I don’t mean that, I mean you look good now that you’re not covered in blood. Or, you looked good then too. Well, not really, because I hit you in the nose-” Michael snapped his mouth shut. “I mean, it’s good to see you too.”

Ashton just laughed, good naturedly, but Michael was pretty sure he was one fuck-up away from them hating him. Still, though, his laugh managed to calm some of that built-up nervousness he was holding on to.

“You look good too, no worries,” Ashton said, corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile. 

Michael just nodded a little, steeling himself before he spoke. “I’m, uh. Really sorry about hitting you. I didn’t mean to at all, and still don’t know how I managed to fuck up that badly.”

Ashton gave him another smile. Luke was busy fiddling with one of his curls, clearly only half paying attention to the conversation, if at all. “It’s okay. Really. You didn’t do any lasting damage, and you didn’t mean to. I’m fine now, and it made the managers have to reconsider the position. Besides, it just meant Calum and Luke were a little overprotective for a few days. I’m fine now, but they were worried for a couple days about bruising and possible lasting damage. You should really be apologizing to Luke for having to deal with blood.” Michael must have looked confused, because Ashton continued. “I don’t know why, but it freaks him out. He’s fine with all the SFX shit, he’s okay with gruesome fake injuries and fake blood, but any time there’s real blood? He freaks out.”

Luke abandoned his curl, tucking it behind his ear, to pout at Ashton. “Hey. I just don’t like it.” 

Ashton gave him another stupidly fond smile and draped an arm over the back of Luke’s chair. “I know.” Michael felt like he was third wheeling, again. Which, okay, Ashton and Luke were cute, but he couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped a little. He’d thought they were pretty cute, and he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking anything would happen with either of them. But it didn’t really make it feel much better to realize he was third wheeling.

Sometime into his quiet sulking (which only could’ve lasted a minute or two at most), Calum had come up behind him, because now he was pulling out the chair next to him. Michael was effectively caged in now by attractive guys. Which, okay, was manageable. If his brain would stay functional. At least now he wasn’t third wheeling Luke and Ashton by himself anymore.

“Hey,” Calum greeted all of them, smiling in the way that made his cheeks squish up and his eyes squint. And okay, yeah, Michael definitely needed to get back into the dating world. 

“Hey,” Luke said, brightening a little again at the sight of Calum. “Michael came.”

Calum nodded, giving Luke the same fond smile Ashton had. “I can see that, babe.”

Luke reached his hand across the table, towards Calum. Calum took it, gently squeezing his hand. And fucking great, had Michael gone from third wheeling to fourth wheeling? Was fourth wheeling even a fucking thing? It clearly was, if what he was thinking was correct. Because Calum, Luke, and Ashton seemed awfully fucking close - Calum had just called Luke babe, for Christ’s sake - and he was pretty fucking sure they were all dating. Or involved together in some way. So why fucking bother inviting Michael if they were going to act like that? It wasn’t like he thought it was a date or anything, but it seemed...rude to just be all couple-y with a fourth person there.

“I’ve gotta take a call,” Michael said, and the excuse to step out sounded lame even to his own ears. But it had seemed like they’d been...maybe not flirting with him, but flirty, and he felt pretty fucking awkward fourth wheeling them the way he was doing. So he wanted an excuse to step outside for a moment and breathe. He pushed his chair back, wincing at the noise it made, and awkwardly stumbled outside of the door. The bell above the door chimed as he did, which did nothing for his annoyance. 

He took a few steps to the side, so he wasn’t in anyone’s way if they tried to go into the little coffee shop. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, forgetting his excuse, and completely forgetting that he should probably at least pretend to be on the phone. Even if his phone hadn’t been ringing in the first place.

His melodramatic inner monologue of suffering was interrupted by the stupid bell chiming again. It earned enough of his attention to look up. And none other than Luke was standing there in front of him, apologetic smile on his face. “Hi,” Luke said, making his way a little closer.

“Hey,” Michael said, a little unsure.

“I just, uh...I’m sorry,” Luke said, fidgeting a little in place. His gaze shifted down to his feet, where he was absently scuffing the toe of his converse against his other foot. “I should have warned you about us. We just...it’s still kind of new, telling people, and we all...well, we all thought you were really cute, and I thought the rest of it would be easy if I managed to get you here. But life isn’t really like the movies, and I was kind of a dick to not at least warn you. Ashton said I should have, and he was right. I should have.” 

Wait...what? Michael was left reeling a little. At least he wasn’t fucking crazy, and he’d been right about the three of them being together. Or, that was what it sounded like, at least. But the rest of it? What did Luke mean by them thinking he was cute? What the fuck? Why did Luke have to be so cryptic? “What?”

Michael was pretty sure Luke blushed. He just scuffed his toe against the ground again, before making eye contact. “I’m dating Calum and Ashton. Or, we’re all dating each other. Um...and we thought you were cute. We think you’re cute. And I fucked up and should have explained all of that earlier. So you didn't, uh...get blindsided by it when you got here.”

Well, that was...a lot. And unexpected. “So...is this a date or something?”

Luke shrugged. “It is if you want it to be.”

Michael considered that for a moment. Did he want it to be? He’d never dated more than one person before - hadn’t really dated many people in general, honestly. But he didn’t dislike the idea. He had gotten along with all of them individually pretty well...and they were already established, right? So maybe it would be easier for him to just join that. Maybe. “I think so, yeah.” He nodded a little.

Luke grinned, shoulders sagging a little with relief as. “Great! I’m sure we’ll talk about everything soon. Like, boundaries and limits and telling other people and the future and stuff like that. Ashton and Calum are pretty good about all that.” Luke reached for Michael’s hand, and he took it, letting Luke lace their fingers together. “For now, though, let’s go get coffee.” Luke tugged him back into the coffee shop, a triumphant grin on his lips. Michael couldn’t help the smile he gave him, just as fond as the ones Calum and Ashton had worn earlier. Something about Luke’s happiness was just...contagious and sweet. It made you happy to see him so happy.

-----------------------------------

The relationship ended up working out like a fucking dream. Michael had never felt so supported in his life, and he was pretty sure his boyfriends felt the same way. After the initial coffee date, they’d gotten themselves established, and talked about what they wanted and what they wanted the relationship to look like, and the future, just like Luke had said. And, to absolutely no one’s surprise, the conversation was guided by Ashton.

Telling his mum had arguably been the hardest part, but even that was made a little easier with their support. Answering her questions hadn’t been fun - he’d deflected the over-the-line questions, as anyone else would, and flat out refused anything rude - but they’d gotten it taken care of, and she’d been about as accepting as Michael could have hoped.

As promised, they managed to get Michael a job at the haunted house the following year. One of the managers had gotten fired after the incident with Ashton - not that that had been the cause, but he’d been a massive dick about it, according to Calum and Luke, and it hadn’t been a good look, so he’d gotten canned - which let Calum get a promotion. Ashton was happy to stick with being an actor. As long as, he’d said when they’d broken the news to Michael, stupid grin on his face, no one else punched him in the face. He didn’t want another boyfriend. It had earned him three eye rolls, and three fond smiles, from each of his stupidly indulgent boyfriends.

But it had meant there was an opening for the merch stand, and Michael would get three glowing reviews. So they’d managed to get him the job. And, Calum had reminded them at the time, pleased smile on his face, they had a lot of sway with one of the managers.

So after everything got settled, Michael’s life was the best it had ever been. He had three loving, supportive, wonderful boyfriends, a job he loved, and date night every Friday. Even if he was working, they were happy to come sit and entertain him until he was off. He didn’t feel left out with them anymore, either; after that first time, they’d gotten it sorted, and were quick to comfort and console him.

Calum doesn’t know what fuckhead came up with the idea of having a joint Halloween party for Sigma Nu and Sigma Pi this year, but he really wants to fight them. He thinks he’d probably have a lot of people on his side, considering how much Sig Nu and and Sig Pi hate each other, so he tucks the idea of interfraternity war away in his head as a contingency plan in case the party goes to shit, as joint parties with any other frat always seem to. And it’s not like it’s a one night thing, because all three days of the “Halloweekend,” as Michael refuses to stop calling it, are supposedly going to be spent with Sig Nu, one party at their own house, and two at the shithole that he assumes is the Sig Nu house, in some deranged attempt at bonding. He’ll be lucky to make it out alive, probably. 

Before college, he really never did anything of his own for Halloween, mainly used to being used as a prop or side character for his sister Mali-Koa’s elaborate costumes, or, after she’d moved out, sticking a pair of fake fangs in his mouth to hand out candy to the few kids who rang the doorbell despite his efforts to keep all the lights in the house off. Last year, as a freshman, he’d gotten roped into a group costume with some of the other Sig Pi pledges, and while his memories are...hazy at best, he vaguely remembers falling asleep in a Teletubbies onesie at the end of the night. 

This year, though, no one has tried to tell him what to dress up as, so it’s now a few hours before the first of the three parties, and Calum still has no ideas for what he should dress up as. A quick Google search for “cheap easy costumes” hadn’t really been all that helpful, so he decides to ignore the problem and take a nap until he actually has to leave. 

A few hours later, Michael barges into the room to drag him out of bed, and looks around for a few seconds before asking, “You don’t have a costume, do you?”

Calum groans, pulling himself out of bed and wracking his brain for an idea that he can plausibly bullshit in the next few seconds, because he can’t let Michael be right and have something to tease him about, so he blurts, “I’m going to be a salt shaker.” 

Michael gapes at him a bit for a few seconds before asking, “What the fuck? What kind of costume is that? What are you even going to wear for that?” 

Calum mentally kicks himself in the shin, as hard as possible, because he really hasn’t thought this through. Why couldn’t he have just said cat or cowboy or something even slightly in the realm of normal Halloween costumes? 

“Uhhh.. y’know that baseball tee I have? The one with the black sleeves and white middle?” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s in my closet, but continue.” 

“What the fuck, dude? Give it back!” 

“You haven’t noticed that it’s missing for like three weeks, I just assumed it was mine now. Tell me what the rest of the costume is,” Michael demands. 

“I’ll just tape a piece of paper with a big ‘S’ on it to the front of my shirt, and then put one of those pots with the holes on my head. Bam! Salt shaker!” Calum says, moderately impressed with his ability to pull stuff out of his ass this quickly. 

“What makes you think we even have a colander?” Michael asks, crossing his arms. 

Calum gives him a blank stare. “A what?” 

“That’s what the pots with the holes are called, you idiot.” 

“You think Harry would live anywhere that didn’t have a fully-stocked kitchen? There’s bound to be one in one of the cabinets or something.” 

“Fine. I’ll go get the shirt while you look for the colander.” Before Calum can object, suggest that he look through Michael’s closet himself and steal back any of his other clothes that have somehow wound up there, Michael’s already halfway down the hallway. 

Sighing, he trudges down the stairs towards the kitchen, where one of the seniors, Niall, is sitting with his head in his hands, dressed as a pirate. 

“Hey, dude, nice costume,” Calum offers as a greeting. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a colander, would you? I know Harry—” 

“Do not talk to me about Harry right now,” Niall says, and Calum stops his search for a moment to send him a concerned look.

“What happ—” 

“That needy-ass motherfucker thinks that just because I didn’t want to do a couples’ costume with him, it means I don’t love him anymore! Never mind the fact that he literally mentioned this idea to me yesterday, well past the point where everyone finalizes their costumes.” 

Calum offers him a sympathetic look and offers, “Couples’ costumes are boring and cheesy anyways. Neither of you are missing out on anything, at least in my opinion.”

Niall lifts his head up from where he’d been repeatedly hitting it on the table to smirk at Calum and ask, “Have a lot of experience with couples’ costumes, do you?” 

Luckily, Calum has finally found the colander, so he opts to ignore the question and just leave the kitchen entirely. 

When he gets back upstairs, Michael’s in his room, unabashedly checking himself out in the mirror that’s on the back of the closet door. “Yeah, yeah, your anime character of the year looks great, now get out and let me get ready.” 

Michael scoffs, “Get ready, as if you’re even doing anything,” but moves towards the door anyway. 

Michael’s right, the costume is ridiculously easy to throw together, and two minutes later, they’re both out the door, walking across Fraternity Row to get to the Sig Nu house, where the music is already blaring and strobe lights throw red, then green, then blue shadows across everyone’s faces. On his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, he sees Niall and Harry walk into the house, holding hands and laughing together, so he assumes that their fight has blown over as quickly as all of their other fights always seem to.

He sees a few different trays of shots and decides he might as well take one to get the night started off right. After, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t grab a beer now, Mali’s rule about sticking to one color of booze for the night ringing in his head, so he settles for filling up a Solo cup with whatever glow in the dark gin concoction is in all the punch bowls. He wouldn’t put it past the Sig Nus to poison the drink on purpose, but it tastes relatively normal, so he grabs another cup for Michael and attempts to leave the kitchen, steering around the couple sloppily making out in the doorway. 

It’s harder to spot Michael than it usually is, considering that at least half the people at the party are wearing some type of wig, but Calum eventually makes his way back over to him. He’s talking to Niall and Harry, and they both offer him a smile before continuing on with the conversation. Once that reaches a lull, Niall leans closer to Calum and says, “Mate, you didn’t need to lie to me about couples’ costumes.” 

Calum has no idea what Niall is talking about, so he shakes his head and asks, “What are you talking about?” 

Niall cackles, and Harry turns to look at him adoringly before going back to talking to Michael, and Calum is more confused than ever. Niall grabs his shoulder and spins him around and points in the direction of a clump of people. “You’re salt and he’s pepper, right? That’s such an obvious couples’ costume, although you two do seem to have a bit of a disconnect on how much effort you put in. That guy really went all out. And dude, why haven’t you told us that you have a boyfriend? You know we’d want to know about that, give him the Sig Pi seal of approval and all that. Wait. Unless he’s a Sig Nu, in which case, I don’t want to know because I’d probably have to kick you out. That’s a joke, by the way.” 

Calum barely has the presence of mind to mumble, “He’s not my boyfriend,” before crossing the room to get to the guy in the hyper-realistic pepper grinder costume. 

The guy smiles as Calum approaches, and despite the costume covering most of his body, Calum can tell that he’s cute. “Why so salty?” Pepper Guy greets, the sunshiney smile still on his face. 

Calum smirks and replies, “Maybe I just need some more spice in my life.” Pepper Guy laughs, and just like everything else about him, it’s cute, and Calum wants to hear it again. “I’m Calum, by the way.”

“Ashton. Nice to meet you, man.” 

Calum leans a little closer so that it’s easier to hold a conversation over the loud music and asks, “What’s the deal with the super realistic pepper grinder costume?” 

Ashton makes a strange noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and says, “I got it off some random sketchy website, but it was supposed to be a chess piece. Something clearly went wrong somewhere in production, and my friend Luke said that I might as well sharpie a “P” onto it and just go with it.” 

Calum makes a noise of agreement, mind stuck on a dumb idea. Before he can reconsider, he sends Michael a quick text that says if u’ve already taken over as dj, can u play that come grind w me song? and a few seconds later, he hears the opening notes and grins. 

“Hey, Ashton?” 

“Yeah?” Ashton replies, as realization slips across his face.

Right in time with the singer’s voice, Calum says, “Come grind with me,” and he laughingly pulls Ashton towards the makeshift dance floor. Neither of them can really dance, so it’s a mess of laughter and limbs flopping around, but Calum feels an unmistakable electricity between them too, and once the song is over, they stay for the next few, enraptured by each other. When they finally exhaust themselves with all the laughing and mock-twerking, Ashton asks Calum if he wants a refill, and when Calum nods, he grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the kitchen. 

Once they’re there, Calum goes for another serving of the glow in the dark punch, which is steadily dimming as the glow sticks run out of light. Since that’s really the only light source in the kitchen, Calum doesn’t see Ashton until he’s turning around and Ashton is right in front of him, reaching around him for a cup. Calum’s kind of trapped with his back against the counter, Ashton’s pepper grinder costume tall enough to really block out the view of the rest of the party, and the world narrows, all of it contained in where their eyes connect, and then, after Calum has safely set his drink back on the counter, that narrow point expands just a bit to where their mouths land on each other’s. The colander gets knocked off Calum’s head as he lifts himself up to sit on the counter, wrapping his legs around Ashton’s waist to pull him closer, as close as he can possibly get him. 

Ashton’s sucking a mark into Calum’s neck when Calum has his first coherent thought of the past few minutes and pulls back, breathlessly asking “Wait, wait, you’re not a Sig Nu, are you?” fully expecting the answer to be no.

Ashton steps back a little too, and it takes him a second to register the question before he groans, “Of course you’re a fucking Sig Pi, that’s the only explanation that makes sense for me never seeing you anywhere before. You’re too hot for me to not notice otherwise.” 

Calum flushes and mentally curses out whatever idiots had started the rivalry between Sig Nu and Sig Pi before he grabs his stupid colander off the ground and gives Ashton an awkward wave goodbye.  

Once he’s out of the kitchen, he quickly glances around in search of Michael, and when he can’t immediately find him, he just gives up and leaves entirely. Fuck Sig Nu. 

He spends most of the next day bitching about his hangover, and then, a few hours later, bitching about his hangover while helping to set up the house for that night’s party. 

He doesn’t really have much more of a costume for tonight, throwing on a gray shirt and sharpie-ing some whiskers on his face. Michael takes pity on him and makes him a headband with an approximation of what they both think mouse ears are, and Calum is mildly entertained by going up to everyone and saying, “I’m a mouse, duh.” 

His heart’s really not in the right place to party tonight, which is probably breaking the cardinal rule of being in a frat, so he sticks close to Michael, who has taken over the role of DJ, once again. Zayn from Alpha Sig strolls over after about half an hour, devil horns askew, and quietly says to Calum, “Cat and mouse, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you, Hood, that’s proper cute. Not as cute as me and Lou, mind you, but still, I respect the effort.” 

Calum is reluctant to look up and see who he’s accidentally matching with today, because, with his luck, it’s probably another guy from Sig Nu. When he does eventually look up, he immediately makes eye contact with Ashton, who happens to be walking by, dressed in all black and with whiskers sharpie’d onto his face too. Calum wants to bang his head into a wall because the universe clearly hates him if it’s having him match with Ashton again. Even beyond that, Ashton looks so good out of the stupid pepper grinder and in all black that Calum wants to make out with him again. 

Ashton is clearly having similar thoughts when he gestures Calum over and leads them towards a little pocket of quiet space in one of the lesser used hallways. 

Calum really wants to hook his thumb into one of Ashton’s belt loops, so he does, as Ashton looks him up and down a few times. “Is the mouse costume your way of telling me you want me to chase you?” 

Calum murmurs, “Shut up,” before leaning in to kiss him, frat rivalry be damned. It’s just as good as it was the night before, maybe even more so, now that the pepper costume isn’t in their way. At this point, there’s no denying the chemistry. It can’t be blamed on being drunk since Calum’s been nursing the same beer all night, and the part of his brain that’s protesting against being this close to a Sig Nu is getting smaller and smaller as he and Ashton continue to kiss. 

They stay in that hallway for the rest of the night, eventually sliding down to sit on the ground, legs pressed together, sharing stupid stories about their respective frats. Calum’s surprised when the music shuts off because it feels like it’s only been an hour at most, that’s how easy it is to talk to Ashton. Ashton heaves himself up and reaches both hands down to help Calum up, too. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can match your costume to mine tomorrow, but I’ll come find you anyways,” Ashton says, as he leaves Calum with a kiss on the cheek. 

Calum’s too wired to sleep much, so he opts to help clean up the house instead, and that takes up enough of his day that when nighttime rolls around, he’s stood staring at his closet without a costume idea for the third time in as many days. After ten minutes of consideration, he digs through one of his drawers to pull out the fake vampire fangs that he had somehow remembered to bring with him, and he goes down the hall to ask Jack to put some fake blood on his mouth and neck. Jack always goes all out for Halloween. 

Once he’s at the party, he doesn’t have to wait long to find Ashton, who looks incredibly good in his werewolf costume. There’s fake blood on him too, which is really the only way their costumes could be understood to be matching, or so Calum thinks. Tonight, Jack and Alex are the ones to tease him, “You know what, I agree. Jacob and Edward should have ended up together, Bella was boring as shit.” 

Calum’s really not bothered by the comments at all, so much so that he’s already thinking of couples’ costumes ideas for next year when he finds his way over to Ashton and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Are you trying to make a move on me? I’m a respectable Sigma Nu, I don’t know if I can allow that.” 

1.

The first time it happens, they’re heading to their first date.

Michael hasn’t really dated anyone since the 90s, because dating is complicated.  He doesn’t age.  He can’t eat regular food.  Going out in the sun is dicy at best and results in extremely painful sunburn at worst.  He shows up in most mirrors now, because they rarely have silver backing anymore, but pictures are a no-go because his eyes cause a lens flare.

The last person he went on an actual date with was Calum, because they’ve been friends for centuries and figured they might as well give it a go.  Michael wishes they could have worked, but it took some making out before they both agreed that, as much as they love each other, it’s all platonic.  The date itself was fun, but there were no romantic butterflies to be found.  Michael has seen Calum naked many times before, and while he can appreciate a handsome man, when it’s Calum it does nothing for him.

Ashton is very handsome.  He’s also funny, and passionate, and he’s got more than enough snark to speak Michael’s language.  He’s got tenacity and determination, and for some reason part of that determination got directed towards getting Michael on a date with him.

He didn’t have to work very hard.  Michael said yes at the first opportunity.

For the first date, Ashton asked if he could pick him up, so Michael waits nervously in his living room, listening to his grandfather clock ticking.  (He’s had it since 1733.  It was made specifically for him by the clockmaker, a parting gift because if Michael stayed in the area for too much longer, his lack of ageing would get suspicious.)

(This is such a bad idea.  Even if this date goes well, Michael can’t be in a relationship with a human for very long before his secret will slip.)

His phone vibrates with a message, and he nearly jumps out of his skin before he realizes that it’s just Calum, not Ashton about to cancel or spring a sudden change of plans.

Cal: have fun on your date ;) wow him with your Biting sense of humor

Michael: i hate you the puns got old centuries ago

Cal: you love them

Michael’s doorbell rings, startling him enough that he fumbles his phone and effectively cutting off any sort of argument he may have started to get into.  Michael stands from the couch, takes a deep breath, and answers the door.

Ashton looks really fucking good.  Michael has only really seen him in their work clothes, when Ashton is writing up articles about the local music scene and Michael is busy approving things to put on the website, but he dresses up very nicely.  His hair is artfully tousled in a way Michael knows must take a little bit of time, and Michael thinks there might be just a hint of glitter under his eyes that would make his heart palpitate if it still did stuff like that.  His shirt is short sleeved, showing off his arms nicely, and there are roses printed against the white fabric that match the ones in the bouquet in his hands.

Michael doesn’t know the last time someone gave him flowers.

“Hi,” Ashton says.  “You look amazing.”

Michael feels like he’s underdressed now.  He’s got on a black long sleeve, because the sun hasn’t fully set yet and he’s trying to cover as much skin as possible, and a pair of black jeans.  It’s a nicer shirt of his, something name brand that he can afford due to decades of saving here and there, but he’s well aware that his overall style leans more casual than dressy.

“Thanks,” he says.  “You look absolutely fantastic.”

Ashton glances down and smiles, pleased.  Michael likes that he can make him react like that.

“I got you flowers,” Ashton says.  “I hope you aren’t allergic.  It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’d feel silly.”

“I’m not,” Michael smiles, taking them from him.  There are a few sprigs of lily of the valley tucked in amongst the roses and ferns, and he takes a deep inhale.  He loves the sweet scent of roses and how lively fresh flowers can appear to be even when they’re dying.  Maybe it’s self-centered, but he likes to think there are some similarities between him and the plants.  They’re not alive anymore, but they’re still going, and they can still bring people a little bit of joy for a few impermanent moments before moving on.

“I’ll put these in some water.  You can step in for a second, if you want.”

He had excessively cleaned the entry and living room earlier in the evening, paranoid in case something like this forced Ashton inside.  At least now he’s certain that there’s nothing incriminating lying about.

“Nice place,” Ashton says.

“Thanks,” Michael replies, already booking it for the kitchen to grab a vase.  Once he gets there he takes a moment to try to stop the slight shake to his hands and compose himself.

You are an ancient, immortal being who has lived through the fall of empires, he scolds himself.  You can handle one date with a cute boy who brought you flowers.

Ashton beams when Michael says he’s ready to go.

“I was thinking we could walk, if that’s okay,” he says while Michael locks the door behind them.  “It’s not far.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re actually going, yet?” Michael asks.  Ashton mimes zipping his lips.  The only information he gave Michael was that it’s going to be a pretty casual setting (and yet he showed up to Michael’s door looking like that) and that Michael won’t have to eat.  That’s something he specifically requested, making up a bunch of excuses about being gluten free and severely lactose intolerant and giving a list of other allergens a mile long.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ashton laughs when he pouts.  “Come on.”

He grabs Michael’s hand to start leading him down the street, and Michael absolutely will not admit to himself how nice it feels, warm and alive against his.

They go through some basic small talk on the way there, touching on current work projects since they’re in different departments and learning a bit more about each other’s families.  Michael makes an excuse about his being in Australia and tells Ashton about Calum instead, and Ashton fills time by describing his mom and siblings.  It’s cute to see the way he lights up, seeming radiant in the light of the setting sun that Michael has to squint harshly against.

“Wow, you really don’t like the sun,” Ashton says eventually.

“What? Oh, not really, I guess.”

“I should’ve known, but I wasn’t sure if all of you are fully nocturnal or not.”

“What?” Michael asks, alarm bells ringing.  “Why would you--what makes you say that?”

Ashton shrugs nonchalantly.

“You know.  You’re just so pale and pasty,” he says, obvious tease in his voice.  “Definitely closer to a creature of the night than an early bird, I’d guess.”

He’s joking.  Ashton has not, somehow, discovered his secret ten minutes into their first date.

“Oh fuck you,” he laughs.  “Not all of us can have perfect natural tans.  I burn really easily.”

“Do you glow in the dark, too?  Turn fluorescent under blacklights?”

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he leans a little into Ashton as he says it to let him know that the banter isn’t unwelcome.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Michael doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means before Ashton is pulling him towards the doors of a large building.  He holds it open for him like a gentleman, and Michael misses the contact of their hands but appreciates having all of his senses free to process the new environment, which is full of a plethora of new sights, sounds, and smells.

“Roller skating?” Michael asks, looking around the large arena.  It’s dim, but his eyes adjust immediately to take in the wondrously tacky carpet outside the rink, highlighted in brief bursts by rotating colorful lights.  Loud music plays over the speakers, and in the arena people in small groups or pairs are making their way around the track.  He can smell fried food and various types of beverages coming from a bar in the corner, mingling with the scent of unfamiliar people.  He takes it all in for a moment, then dials back his senses to make it more bearable.

“It’ll be fun,” Ashton says.  “Willing to give it a go?”

“Definitely.”

They go get their skates, and Ashton pays for the shoe rental and the entrance fee.  Michael hasn’t been roller skating in probably around a decade, and he’s excited Ashton picked this as their date location.  So many date ideas these days have to do with food, the only thing Michael absolutely can’t participate in, but Ashton found something that will hopefully be fun while still allowing them to talk and get to know each other better.

“Ready?” Ashton asks.  Michael nods, and then they step out into the rink.

Ashton, it turns out, is worse at roller skating than Michael is.  That makes sense, because Michael did it a lot in the 70s and 90s and has gone a few times since to keep it fresh, and Ashton isn’t awful, but there are a few instances where he wobbles and his hand immediately reaches out to grab at Michael’s arm before he rebalances and apologizes.  Michael laughs at him good naturedly and does a few circles around him until Ashton huffs and Michael slips an arm through his.

“Come on,” Michael says.  “Once you’re used to this in about fifteen minutes, I’ll race you around the track.”

Michael wins the first race, but Ashton wins the second, although Michael is giggling too much for it to count, in his opinion.  They spend a lot of time making laps and talking, and Michael skates backwards to show off at every opportunity while Ashton dances to the songs that come on over the speakers to make him laugh.  It’s one of the best nights Michael has had in a long time, and by the time they leave they’re both walking slowly, stretching their time together as much as possible.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Ashton says when they finally reach Michael’s door.  His front light makes the glitter under Ashton’s eyes sparkle, and Michael technically doesn’t have to breathe, but his breath still catches.

“Me too,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So...do you want to do this again?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.  I’ll take you out, next time.”

“Okay,” Ashton smiles, ducking his head.  Michael catches a faint blush on his cheeks, blood rushing up to color them, and he loves that he sees Ashton like this.  At work, he’s always cool and level-headed, confident in what he says and strong in his opinions.  Michael has managed to turn him bashful, and that is possibly the best thing to come out of the date.

“I should let you get on with your night,” Ashton says eventually.  Michael tries to find some sort of excuse to get him to stay, but then Ashton leans forward and presses his lips to Michael’s cheek, soft and lingering.  When he takes a step back, Michael wants to pull him in again to memorize the scent of his skin and feel of his warmth.

“Good night,” Ashton says.

“Night,” Michael makes himself reply.  Ashton smiles again, then sets off down the street.  Michael watches him, smiling when he glances back and waves again, and continues to stand on his front stoop until Ashton is fully out of sight, even for him.

His phone buzzes as soon as he steps inside, and Michael pulls it out in case it’s something important or work related (or Ashton).

Cal: how was the date? or are you two still going…?

Michael: really fucking good

2.

On the third date, Michael gets to see the inside of Ashton’s apartment.

Michael took them stargazing for their second date.  There was a meteor shower he wanted to try to watch, anyway, and he found a good spot outside the city where it would be mostly visible.  Ashton likes being outdoors, and Michael doesn’t mind it at night, so he drove them out of the city, made the trek up a hill, and laid out a blanket for them to cuddle up in.  All in all, it was a great night.  Even the car ride to and from the location was amazing, because Michael told Ashton to make a playlist for it and they spent the entire time discussing favorite songs.  Ashton is such a snob about it sometimes, since he’s a music journalist and is always evaluating in his head, but there were a few surprises that he put on there simply because “good music doesn’t always have to be good music, Michael.”

Ashton kissed him on the cheek again when Michael walked him to his door.  Michael thinks that something so simple shouldn’t occupy so much space in his thoughts, but he’s been replaying it in his head over and over.  It’s a little distracting at work, especially when he gets one of Ashton’s articles to upload to the website.

They head to Ashton’s right after they both clock out.  Ashton doesn’t live far and typically walks (he really likes walking places, Michael has noticed), but Michael drives them so he’ll have his car handy at the end of the night.  It’s a relatively nice building, and Ashton holds the lobby door open for him, which counts enough as an invite to allow him to enter.  They take the elevator up to the fifth floor, then Ashton unlocks his door and steps in.

From what Michael can see, it’s a nice apartment.  The entry, kitchen, and living room flow easily together, and there’s a hallway off to the side that Michael assumes leads to the bathroom and bedrooms.

He can’t step over the threshold.  He hasn’t been invited in this time, not explicitly enough for him to freely enter despite knowing that Ashton wants him there.

“My roommate is out for the night.  I swear I cleaned before I left for work today,” Ashton says, puttering around the living room and picking up what looks like a stray sock, righting the pillows on the couch and straightening some books on the coffee table.  Michael leans against the doorframe and watches him.  Fluffing the pillows doesn’t really matter to Michael, but if it makes Ashton feel better it’s no hardship on him.

Ashton finishes, then glances around until he spots Michael still in the hall.

“Oh.  I didn’t really invite you in, did I.”

“It would’ve been the polite thing to do,” Michael teases.  “I’d hate to intrude, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Ashton says, coming forward and taking both of Michael’s hands in his.  “Michael Clifford, I formally invite you into my home.  You are welcome here whenever you’d like.”

“A simple ‘hey, come in,’ would’ve been sufficient, but thanks,” he laughs, stepping forward.

“Absolutely not,” Ashton says.  “If you’re going to be vampiric about entering my home, I’m going to treat you with the proper respect, Count Clifford.”

Apparently the vampire jokes are going to be a thing.  Michael can work with that, instead of panicking over it.  If he turns it into a bit, maybe Ashton will brush things off longer.

“Thank you, mortal.  Now, I vant to suck your blood,” he says, exaggerating the awful stereotypical (absolutely false and insulting) accent.  It gets a laugh from Ashton, though, which is what he wanted.

“If you manage to beat me at chess, I’ll let you,” Ashton says.

Michael hasn’t let himself think about Ashton’s blood.  He can control himself very easily around humans, and bloodlust isn’t really a thing with him unless he hasn’t eaten in over a week.  He has a specific concoction that he picks up from the magic shop like clockwork, a mixture of animal blood, some herbs, a few drops of human blood (humanely donated), and whatever the fuck is the flavor for that batch, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely forgotten how amazing it tastes to drink pure, living blood.  It’s incredibly intimate, and Michael hasn’t been that close with a human in a very, very long time.

“Okay,” he chokes, once the silence has stretched on too long.  Ashton quirks an eyebrow at him, but moves to get the board games without comment.

Michael loves board games.  He loves all games, really, and he mostly deals with video games now to keep as up to date as possible (and because he doesn't have to invite friends over to play most of them).  What’s nice about games, though, is that they can change every time.  Michael has been playing chess since it was invented, but he’s never played against Ashton, and it’s going to be an entirely new experience.

Unfortunately, Ashton is extremely good at chess.

“What the fuck,” Michael says, king toppling after a five-move checkmate.

“Darn,” Ashton replies, faux innocent.  “I guess there’ll be no bloodsucking tonight.”

“Wait, I want a rematch.  I’m good at chess, I swear.”

Ashton wins twice more before they move on to another game.  They cycle through a few before landing on a card game from Ashton’s family, one that Michael hasn’t heard of or played before.  It has a lot of complicated rules, and Ashton walks him through it slowly.  If Michael feints misunderstanding more than necessary just to have Ashton’s focus on him, leaning close to look at his cards and explain the best moves, then that’s his business.

Michael doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Ashton’s stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear.

“How is it already nine o’clock?” he asks.  “Shit, you haven’t eaten yet.  You could’ve had something.”

Ashton just shakes his head.

“I’m not going to eat in front of you if I don’t have anything to feed you, too,” he says.  Michael wishes it were possible for him to digest human food, because while Ashton does have a nice amount of blood he could tap into with permission, somehow Michael doesn’t think that’s on the table

“I have a weird meal schedule, anyway,” he says.  “I eat a really big lunch, then only something small late at night.  I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll remember that for future reference,” Ashton says.  “Although someday I hope you let me feed you.”

It is such a good thing that breathing is an option for Michael, rather than a requirement.  Ashton may not have any clue how what he’s saying sounds, but that doesn’t mean Michael isn’t affected.

“We’ll see,” he says, although there’s no chance that’ll ever happen.  “I should probably head home, anyway.”

Ashton checks the time.

“You can stay longer if you want.  My roommate will be back soon, but he wouldn’t mind.”

Michael wants to stay, but he’s not sure he’d ever leave if he did.

“I think I’ll go.  I’m not sure we’re at the “meeting the roommates” stage yet.”

Michael stands, and Ashton follows to walk him out.

“I had a good time.  Again,” Ashton says as they walk down the stairs.

“Me too, even if I think you were somehow cheating at chess.”

“Hey,” Ashton complains, then pauses.  “I was going to say that jealousy isn’t a good look on you, but everything is a good look on you.”

“Shut up,” Michael says.  “That’s not true at all.  I have made some bad fashion choices in the past.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ashton says.  Michael wishes he could show him the pictures from the 80s, as embarrassing as they are.  They reach the bottom landing entirely too soon, but Ashton walks him out to the parking deck until they’re standing next to his car.

“So,” Ashton says, squaring his shoulders.  “We’ve been on three dates so far, and I really like you, Michael.  Hanging out with you has been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time.  I was wondering if you wanted to officially be my boyfriend.”

Fuck.  The smart thing would be to cut this off now, before either of them get too attached, because Michael already thinks it would absolutely shatter his non-existent heart if Ashton found out and thought he was a monster.

“Absolutely,” he says instead, because he’s an idiot who wants what he can’t have.  “These past few dates have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, too.”

Ashton beams, like the sun breaking through clouds.  He has dimples, and Michael really wants to press his fingers into the divots.  He just wants to touch Ashton everywhere, really, to feel the soft skin and know that there’s blood bringing heat to it from his heart to every corner and crevice.

There’s something so absolutely tantalizing about how alive Ashton is.  Michael knows that he can’t be more like him, not even if he was actually alive still, but he’s content to have him near.  He’d be content to watch from a distance, honestly, but if Ashton wants him close then Michael is going to stay close.

He should not be this whipped after only the third date.

“Well,” he says once they’ve spent too much time grinning at each other silently.

“I should let you go,” Ashton says.  “I’ll text you.”

“I’d like that,” Michael says.  He goes to open his car door, but Ashton’s hand on his wrist stops him.  He leans forward and to kiss Michael on the cheek, just like the past two dates, but this time it lands a bit lower and closer to the middle.  The corner of his mouth hits Michael’s and lingers there for just a second longer than he can bear.

“For fucks sake,” he breathes, then slots their lips together properly.  Ashton smiles into the kiss before he can get it under control and properly kiss back.  Maybe it’s dramatic to say that this kiss feels like it’s filling some hole in Michael that he didn’t know was vacant, but Michael is a dramatic guy, and there’s something special about the way their noses bump and how instinctual it is to shift closer.  Michael doesn’t really want it to end, so he gives Ashton another peck before pulling away fully.  Ashton’s eyes take a moment to flutter open.

It’s definitely far too early to be in love, but Michael is very self-aware after being around for so long, and he knows he’s going to have to actively try not to fall head-over-heels for Ashton.

“Have a good night, Ashton,” Michael says.

“You too.  Drive safe.”

Michael keeps his composure as he pulls out of the parking space, aware of Ashton’s eyes on him.  He manages to keep it together all the way home, actually, but the moment his door shuts behind him he’s leaning against it, giddy with a crush and wondering what he’s just gotten himself into.

3.

Movie nights become a bit of a thing.  It’s a low-maintenance way to spend time together, and sometimes they’re both too tired after grueling work days or hard weeks to be around a lot of people.  Michael’s house has a pretty nice tv, and he has an extensive movie collection, including some horrible b-movies on VHS that Ashton finds endlessly amusing.  A lot of Michael’s favorite moments are spent snuggled up on the couch under Ashton’s arm or with his feet in his lap, watching the way the light from the screen plays off of his face more than the movie itself.

Ashton hasn’t seen the Twilight movies, which is almost a travesty.  Michael watched all of them in theaters with Calum, both of them weirdly captivated with how completely bonkers and inaccurate they are, and they’ve seen them often enough to quote them almost completely to each other at the drop of a hat.  Michael is tired today, and he wants something he doesn’t have to pay much attention to.

He sleeps significantly less than humans do, but that doesn’t mean that staying up for the past week and a half straight was a good idea.  He was also on his feet more than usual at work, and everything is hurting a little.  His body has better-than-average healing, but it’s also over a few centuries old.  Today, he’s feeling it.

Edward has just gotten the first sniff of Bella and looks like he’s about to puke when Ashton turns to him.  Michael is leaning against the corner of the couch, head lolling to the side and feet tucked up next to him.  He’s been looking at Ashton and letting his thoughts drift, and he should probably be more embarrassed than he is that he was caught at it.

“What’s up with you today?” Ashton asks.  “You’re suspiciously quiet.”

“Tired,” Michael says.  “My feet hurt.”

“I can help with one of those things,” he says.  “Give me your feet.”

“What?”

Ashton gestures until Michael uncurls, stretching his legs out until his feet land in Ashton’s lap.  He starts at Michael’s ankles, gently rubbing and then moving to the bottoms of his feet.  Michael jumps when he presses down on a particularly tight tendon, but it’s already feeling leagues better.

“I can’t believe you’re touching my feet,” he groans as Ashton presses a knuckle into the center, making his toes curl.  “That’s so gross.”

Ashton snorts.

“I don’t mind, but I’ll wash my hands after if it makes you feel better.  I just want to make you feel good.”

Michael’s face would be completely inflamed if he had the blood for it.

“Shut up.  This better not be a fetish for you.”

Ashton laughs this time, a full belly laugh that Michael would enjoy hearing more if it didn’t make him stop the massage.

“Would that be a deal breaker?” he giggles when he’s calmed down enough.  Michael takes a moment to evaluate if he’s actually joking or not, because he really likes Ashton and has loved being his boyfriend for the past couple of months, but feet might be where he draws the line.

“No, I don’t have a foot fetish,” Ashton says after a moment of Michael staring at him like a deer in the headlights.  Michael lets out a sigh of relief.  He can be adventurous about stuff like that, and he’s been around long enough to try basically everything, but someone being aroused by his feet will always be just a little too weird.

“Do you have any embarrassing fetishes or kinks?” Ashton asks conversationally.  “Just… for future reference, if that’s something you want.”

They haven’t done anything besides some lazy making out, which Michael is grateful for.  He likes that they’re taking their time with it.  He doesn’t want to rush this, but the thought has crossed his mind before.

He swallows.  Ashton’s alternating between glancing at the tv and paying attention to his massage, and Michael doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s not trapped under that gaze or upset that he doesn’t have Ashton’s full undivided attention.

“Nothing embarrassing,” Michael says.  “I’m open to a lot of things, but I really like being taken care of.  I’ve been told I can be demanding and needy.  Sometimes I like… being held down, I guess.  Nothing excessive, but…”

He’s an extra-strong, extra-resilient being.  Every time he feels like someone else has the control, it’s a special kind of rush.

Ashton glances at him from under his eyelashes, the blue-green light from the tv casting strange and otherworldly shadows over his face.  Michael swallows thickly again.

“I like taking care of my partner, so that works out,” Ashton says.  Michael nods.  Ashton turns back to the tv and tilts his head in consideration, putting his neck on full display.

“You know,” he says, “I never really was into biting, but now…” He trails off, then brings a finger up to his neck, tracing along the length of it subconsciously.  At least, Michael hopes that it’s subconscious.  The air is thick with tension, and if Ashton is doing this on purpose than he knows a lot more about Michael than he’s let on.

“It might be nice to be marked up a bit,” Ashton says.  He glances at Michael, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile.  “Maybe Bella had the right idea, going after a vampire.”

Michael snorts and the tension dissipates like a balloon popping.

“I hardly think anyone in this movie counts as a real vampire.”

“You don’t think real vampires sparkle in the sun?” Ashton asks.  “Darn.  What’s the point of vampires if you have to dump glitter on them for the sparkle effect?”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs.

“I’m the idiot?  You’re the one who’s all the way over there when you have a perfectly good boyfriend right here who’s ready to cuddle you.”

Michael rolls his eyes and shifts to tuck himself against Ashton’s side.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Very,” Ashton says, taking a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over them.  It’s cozy.  Michael sighs in contentment.

“Do your feet feel a little better?” Ashton asks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“If you want to take a nap now, you can.”

Michael hums and seeks out Ashton’s other hand, tangling their fingers together sloppily.  He’s tired, but he probably won’t drift off.  He has all night for a power nap, and right now he doesn’t want to miss a second of his time with Ashton.

4.

The door bangs shut behind them, and Michael doesn’t have a moment to reorient himself before Ashton is on him again, lips incessantly seeking his and body caging him against the wall.  Michael’s own hands are already slipping under his shirt, desperate to feel the warm expanse of his back and pull him even closer.  He’s always run cold, even before he was turned, but right now he feels like he’s burning up from the inside out, flames igniting with every point of contact between them.  Ashton gets a hand in his hair and tugs, and Michael makes a noise he wasn’t expecting to come out of him.

Don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, he repeats to himself.  It’s typically effortless to keep his fangs retracted and unnoticable, but he hasn’t done this with someone he truly likes in a very, very long time.  He can’t allow himself to get so mindlessly overwhelmed that they slip down.

Ashton detaches their lips to take a breath, and Michael takes the opportunity to trail kisses over his jawline and down the column of his throat.  Ashton hums into it, the sound reverberating through his vocal chords, and Michael nips at his throat to turn the hum into a groan, sucking at it again to ease the sting.

There’s a particular feeling of satisfaction at leaning back briefly to take in his progress, knowing that the blood is pooling just under the surface of Ashton’s skin.  When he returns to his ministrations with a slightly harsher bite, Ashton jolts, rocking into him.

“Fuck, Michael,” he breathes.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Michael asks between kisses, trailing over his collarbones now because Ashton never buttons his fucking shirts.

“Anything.  Everything.  I--” He’s cut off by another groan that dissolves into a breathless laugh.  “You’re so fucking distracting; get back up here.”

He tugs on Michael’s hair again, guiding their mouths together.  It’s easier than breathing to let Ashton take control, and Michael could stand here all night and let himself be kissed against the wall if there weren’t other things he wanted to be doing in the bedroom.  Still, he whines when Ashton pulls away.

“I know you don’t sleep, and I’ll keep up as much as I can,” Ashton pants.  “I can’t fucking wait to take you apart.”

“So do it,” Michael says, not able to care about how desperate he sounds.  “No one’s stopping you.”

“You’re such a mouthy little shit,” he says, leaning back in for a kiss that Michael feels all the way down to his toes.  They don’t part again until they’re in the bedroom and falling onto the mattress.

-/-

Afterwards, Michael watches, amused, as Ashton fights to keep his eyes open.  They never turned on the lights, but Michael can see just fine with his vampire eyesight and the early rays of sunshine beginning to paint the sky outside in pinks and oranges.

“Just go to sleep,” Michael laughs, tracing another mindless pattern onto Ashton’s ribs.  “We’re done.  I can’t handle anything else.”

“Weird to sleep when you’re not,” he mumbles, eyes already slipping closed again.  “Can feel you watching me.”

“I won’t watch you,” Michael says.  “I’ll probably fall asleep right after.”

Ashton snorts halfheartedly.  Michael rolls his eyes, then nudges Ashton onto his side and fits himself behind him.  Ashton sighs and relaxes again almost immediately, a heavy weight at his front while Michael slides one arm under the pillow and anchors them together with the other.  He gets a great view of Ashton’s sweaty and tangled hair, and that’s about it.

“There,” Michael murmurs.  “Now I can’t watch you.  Happy?”

Ashton hums.  He’ll be out in less than a minute.

Regardless of all of Ashton’s jokes about Michael never sleeping (he resents that he looks tired enough at all times for that to be an assumption), Ashton managed to tire him out.  He doesn’t need to sleep right now, but there’s no harm in it.  He lets the steady push and pull of Ashton’s breathing and the heartbeat he can barely feel under his palm lull him, and he drifts off soon after.

5.

“You want me to meet your family?” Michael asks, eyes wide in the face of this new information.

“If you’re comfortable with it,” Ashton says nonchalantly, but the way he’s avoiding Michael’s eyes tells him this conversation is anything but casual.  He’s focused on throwing things into a blender, raspberries and peaches joining ice cubes and yogurt for a smoothie that Michael has watched him make dozens of times before.  Michael can drink smoothies if they’re blended enough, and honestly he’s got a bit of a blood hunger going on because the last batch of his concoction from the magic store tasted gross and he’s supposed to go in today to get the new one.  Still, a smoothie wouldn’t help with that, and he turned down Ashton’s offer in favor of a cup of coffee, wanting a warm mug in his hands.  He’s glad to have something to keep his arms from flailing at this new curveball, in any case.

Ashton turns on the blender, the angry sound filling the previously-serene morning.

He can’t meet Ashton’s mum and siblings.  He’s a vampire, and he’s already entirely too attached to Ashton as it is.  It’s easy to fantasize about revealing his secret and Ashton being okay with it when it’s just the two of them, but there’s no way he can get to know his family only to break their heart when he has to leave Ashton for his own good.

Michael can’t watch Ashton grow old without him.  He could do it for a few years, maybe a few decades, and he wants to spend as much time with him as possible, but eventually it would get too hard.  Michael’s good at running, and he’s good at being alone.  It’s harder to do both of those things with a family involved.

“That’s a big step,” Michael says once the blender stops.

“I’ve met Calum, and you said he’s closer than your family.”

“Against my will!”

Calum had insisted on meeting “the guy who’s got you wrapped around his finger,” and Michael had been powerless to stop it.  They get on like a house fire and Michael gets teased about five times more than he used to, but he secretly loves it.  Calum and Ashton are by far the two people he loves most in the world, and it’s nice to see them also enjoy each other.

“Michael,” Ashton says, pouring his smoothie into a glass and still refusing to look at him, something unfamiliar in his expression, “I’ve never gone this long without introducing them to someone I’m serious about.  They really want to meet you.”

“I--I want to meet them, too, but…”

Ashton sighs and finally faces him head-on.  Michael has never felt this small.

“Are you serious about us?”

“Of course,” he says, but it comes out more like a question, and he watches something shutter in Ashton’s eyes.  He turns back to the blender, starting to dismantle it so he can rinse it properly, always trying to keep the kitchen neat, and Michael knows that he has to say something to try to fix this, anything to stop the sad slope of Ashton’s shoulders and that hurt look in his eyes.

“Ash, I have to tell you something,” he says before he can think twice.  Ashton hums, and Michael steels himself for whatever reaction is about to occur, whether he has to bolt for the door or not.  “I--um, well, I…”

He hasn’t had to confess to someone in over forty years.  He doesn’t know how to do it anymore.  He swallows and tries again.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but… I mean, I--”

“Shit,” Ashton exclaims, something clattering in the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks, and a second later the metallic tang of blood reaches his nose.

“Cut my thumb on the blender blades,” Ashton says, turning around and sticking the pad of his thumb in his mouth.  Michael stares at him, unable to move.

The thing is, Ashton’s blood smells really good.  He knew it would, because if he loves everything else about Ashton it makes sense that he would love him down to the blood in his veins and the DNA it carries, but this is the first time Ashton has split skin in his vicinity, and it’s more to handle than Michael thought it would be.  He’s hungry, and he’s upset, and Ashton is right there in front of him, bleeding.

He shakes himself from that train of thought.

“Are you alright?  How bad is it?” he asks.  Ashton takes his thumb out of his mouth to check, and that just makes the smell intensify.  Michael feels a bit of saliva pool in his mouth and swallows it back.

“It’s not too bad,” Ashton says.  “It mostly just hurts, but once the bleeding lessens I’ll put a bandaid on it and it should be fine.”

He goes to put it back in his mouth and glances up at Michael, freezing at whatever he sees there.  Michael doesn’t know what his face is doing, or why his posture feels so stiff, or what the fuck he’s supposed to do with Ashton just standing there with a bleeding thumb, and for a long moment they just stare at each other.  Michael forgets to breathe.

Slowly, like he’s coaxing a startled animal towards him, Ashton reaches out his hand towards Micheal.  A drop of blood drips off his thumb and onto the floor.  Michael couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“You know,” Ashton says, low and calm, “you could help me stop the bleeding, if you wanted.”

Michael stares at him, not comprehending the words, when he feels two pinpricks on the inside of his bottom lip.

His fangs dropped.

“I have to go,” he says, scrambling out of his seat and hastily putting his coffee on the table.  He probably spills some, but he can’t look back to check, shoving on his shoes and sprinting out the door, Ashton’s questions echoing behind him.

Shit.  Shit shit shit shit shit.

He’s scrambling for his phone as he tries to unlock his car, tears starting to cloud his vision with the panic.  He presses Calum’s speed dial as soon as he gets the door open, tearing out of the parking space without putting on his seatbelt.

“Hello?” Calum finally answers.

“My fangs dropped,” he says, consonants coming out in that strange way they do when his mouth has more teeth than usual.

“What happened?” Calum asks immediately.  He knows how serious something like this can be, especially for someone like Michael, who tries so hard to avoid it.  He sniffles and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see the road better.  Calum’s house is close, and he just needs to get a few more blocks before he has backup.

“I was with Ashton and he cut himself on a blender.  I--we had a fight, or--I made him feel bad, in any case, and I haven’t eaten enough, and then he cut himself and I felt the fangs and ran out of there with no explanation.  He’s going to hate me.  I’ve ruined everything!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Calum says, but it’s not like Ashton is his boyfriend.  Michael doesn’t know how to recover from something like this.

Calum tries to console him for the rest of the short car ride, stopping once Michael pulls into his driveway to turn an assessing gaze on him instead.  His expression tells Michael that he’s leaving much to be desired right now.

“Alright, Mikey.  Let’s get you out of the sun, yeah?  We’ll figure this out.”

He holds out his arms, and Michael falls right into them, letting Calum lead him into the house.  His fangs still prick at his lips, a sharp reminder of everything he ruined due to one second of lousy control.

+1

The bell to the magic shop digs as they enter, and Michael pulls down his sunglasses.  Calum got him to stop crying and gave him a bit of his own leftover concoction, because he hadn’t drunk all of it due to the taste, either.  It was enough for Michael to be able to get his fangs back under control, but it doesn’t stop how miserable he feels about the way he left, or the conversation they were having beforehand.

He can’t let himself be around Ashton if his fangs are going to drop like that.  He would never hurt him, he knows that, but there’s still the potential that he can’t ignore.  Ashton’s safety and comfort isn’t something he can risk.  Even if Ashton was somehow okay with him being a vampire, they wouldn’t work.

Michael has known this since the beginning.  He let himself fall in love, anyway.

There are three missed calls and over a dozen text messages that he still has to try to answer on his phone.  There’s no way to do that without breaking both of their hearts, but Calum told Ashton that Michael is physically okay and that he’d talk to him tomorrow.  For now, he needs to sort through his own feelings and calm down, and for that they need to pick up the weekly blood supply.

“Hi!” the witch at the counter says.  His name is Luke, and Calum’s been flirting with him ever since he started working there.  It would be cute if it didn’t make these excursions so tedious, and if Michael himself wasn’t currently mourning what is soon to be the end of an absolutely spectacular relationship.

“Our usual, please,” he says curtly.  Luke glances between him and Calum, who gives a beaming smile, then heads to the back storage room.

“Maybe it’ll taste less like shit this time,” he mutters.  Calum nudges him, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the bell over the door chimes again.  Michael knows who it is before he turns around, the scent and rhythm of his heartbeat as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Ashton freezes in the doorway.  He has changed into a sweatshirt, the one he wears when he’s having a bad day because it feels like a perpetual hug without having to be touched, and Michael is probably going to cry again.  Out of the three of them, Calum pulls himself together first.

“Hello, Ashton.  I didn’t know you frequented this shop.”

“Ashton!” Luke says, returning from the back with their order in a crate.  “Did you bring it?”

Michael finally notices the tupperware in his hands when he hands it to Luke, who opens a corner and sniffs.

“You know each other?” Michael asks.

“Oh, sorry!” Luke says.  “This is Ashton, my roommate.  I’d never eat lunch if he wasn’t there to bring it to me.”

“You’re the roommate?” Michael asks.  In all of their months of dating, he never managed to meet the roommate, even though Ashton has known Calum for weeks.  Weird schedules and Michael’s aversion to meeting and possibly getting attached to more people prevented it.  Luke looks between Michael, Calum, and Ashton, and then a lightbulb hits.

“You’re Ashton’s Michael!”

“How many other vampires named Michael do you know?” Ashton asks, and Michael reels back, Calum’s hand on his spine the only thing keeping him upright.

“You know?”  Ashton frowns.

“Michael, I’ve known since the first day I met you.”

“Wh--you never mentioned it!”

“I made some references, then figured it wasn’t something you were comfortable talking about.”

“Wait,” Luke says.  “You know Ashton is a minor deity, right?”

“What? ”

Michael turns desperately to Calum, because none of this makes sense, but Calum is having some sort of silent conversation with Luke.

“You two need to talk,” he says eventually.

“I need to show Calum something in the back, anyway,” Luke says, grabbing Calum’s sleeve and tugging him around the counter, shutting the door to the storeroom behind them.  It’s not the slickest move that Michael’s ever seen, but he’s having a crisis and can’t be bothered to laugh at Luke for it.

“So,” Ashton says.  “It seems there’s been a bit of miscommunication here.”

“You’re a deity?” Michael asks.  Ashton starts to blush, which is cute.  He clasps his hands together and nods once.

“Yeah, my entire family is.  The religion died down centuries ago, so it’s mostly our belief in each other that’s keeping us alive.  I’m basically just an immortal human now, but I’ve been around long enough to recognize other non-humans when I see them.”

“And you’ve known I was a vampire the entire time?” he asks.  Ashton nods.  “Oh.”

“I thought that you knew that I knew,” he says.

“I didn’t,” Michael says.  “I thought you would hate me when you found out.”

“I could never hate you,” Ashton says, taking a step forward and reaching for him before he aborts the movement.  Michael looks at his feet and wonders if what he says next will change that.

“My fangs dropped earlier, when you cut your thumb.”  His voice is steadier than anticipated, but he can’t help but brace himself for Ashton to back away or run screaming.  He doesn’t do either of those.

“Is that why you left so quickly?”

He nods, shame pooling in his stomach.

“I was offering, you know?  I wouldn’t have minded if you had a taste.”

“But I didn’t know that at the time,” Michael says, focusing on the shame so he doesn’t do something horrible like start thinking about what it would really be like to have some of Ashton’s blood.  “I just… lost control.  I can’t do that.  I won’t let myself.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Ashton says gently, stepping closer until he can put his hands on Michael’s arms, then sliding down to grasp his hands.  “Can you look at me?”  Michael tries, then shakes his head.  “That’s okay, and your fangs dropping earlier is okay, too.  You had a lot on your mind, were probably a little hungry, and I was waving my bloody finger under your nose, even if you didn’t recognize it as an invitation.  What’s important is that you didn’t try anything without asking.  You didn’t hurt me; you removed yourself from the situation.  I would say that that’s keeping things pretty under control, wouldn’t you?”

“But I could’ve hurt you, even if I didn’t.”

“Michael, you’re not a mindless beast,” Ashton says.  “The fact that you’re this upset about your body’s natural physical reaction shows that.  You’re not going to do anything to hurt someone else like that.  You have to trust yourself.”

Michael wrinkles his nose, then finally makes himself meet Ashton’s eyes.  There’s nothing but compassion there, no fear or disgust.

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Ashton repeats.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Michael agrees.  “I can trust myself with that.”

A grin breaks out on Ashton’s face.

“Good,” he says.  “I trust you, too.”

“And, about meeting your family,” Michael starts.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ashton says.  “I was a little pushy.  We can talk about it and figure out something that works for both of us.”

“I was going to say that I’ll do it,” Michael says.  “Half of my worry had to do with me being a vampire and you and your family being unsuspecting humans, but that’s not an issue anymore.”

“What about the other half?”

“Just normal meeting-the-family jitters,” he says.  “They’re really important to you, and I don’t want them to hate me because I didn’t meet them earlier.”

“They won’t hate you,” Ashton says.  “You’re a delight.”

“I hope they share that thought.”

“They will.  I love you, so they will, too.”

Michael feels like he’s going to burst.  He also feels menally exhausted from this entire affair and the emotional whiplash it’s giving him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.  Ashton answers by leaning forward, and Michael sinks against him, melting into the feeling.

“So,” Calum says loudly, startling them both.  “Are you guys good now?”

“What do you think?” he snips.

“I don’t know, Luke,” Calum says, turning away from Michael and towards him.  “Do you think that they’re good now?”

“They did look rather cosy,” Luke says.  “In fact, I’d say that Ashton looked ready to pledge himself to Michael as his personal blood bank.  His little ketchup packet, if you will.”

Calum bursts out laughing.  Michael tries to be affronted, but Ashton starts laughing incredulously next to him.

“Ketchup packet?  Is that what I’m reduced to?”

“There are worse titles,” Calum says between bouts of laughter.  Luke looks ridiculously pleased at this development.

“Please never refer to him as my ketchup packet again,” Michael says.  “I’m begging you not to.”

“If the fangs fit,” Luke says, which makes Calum dissolve into laughter again.  It’s not even funny.  Honestly, they deserve each other.

“Come on,” Ashton says.  “Let’s go back to my place.  I want to hear all about your vampire antics from the olden days, now that I know you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Only if I get to hear stories about being a minor deity,” Michael says, grabbing his part of the blood order.  “Cal, you’re paying for this one!”

Luke is regretting his decision to tell Michael that he would get the decorations for their apartment. He only agreed because Michael loves Halloween, but he cannot be trusted to do the shopping. He’ll buy everything in the store and then will they not only have money, Luke will have to spend the whole month being terrified of his apartment and what might pop out at him. Michael is endlessly fascinated by Halloween, a holiday fairies don’t celebrate. It’s a human-made holiday, and before they left Australia and their little home clan of magic to move to New York, they’d never encountered anything like it. Even though they’ve been here for roughly five years now and have come to understand most of the other holidays people celebrate, Michael loves Halloween the most. It’s the one thing he insists on celebrating, despite Luke’s protests against it. Luke likes fall, but he doesn’t like being scared, which seems to be Michael’s favorite part. He’s been banned from decoration shopping since the time he hung a skeleton from the ceiling that caused Luke to scream and cry upon entering the apartment. 

Luke doesn’t get Halloween. It’s such a human holiday and, despite how much he likes dressing up and eating candy, he doesn’t understand Michael's fascination with it. He finds the whole thing to be too scary and overdone for his liking. 

Usually, they have enough Halloween decorations for the apartment but, in a fit of rage last year, Luke threw some of them out after Michael had left a fake spider in his bed. Which is probably one of the reasons that Michael forced Luke to go this year. It’s his least favorite thing, having to go to the store and go through the aisles to find something that Michael likes. Luke doesn’t like anything terrifying, which is unfortunately all Michael ever wants. Luke has already had to avoid the fake snakes and serial killer franchise masks just to get to the decorations.

He’s been standing in the decorations aisle for twenty minutes now, trying to decide between the scary decorations (some kind of bloody werewolf head, which Luke thinks might be inaccurate) and the cute ones (a small, smiling purple bat). He’s also partial to the black rose wreath hanging up, but he’s worried Michael will say it’s too “soft” for the scary punk vibes he prefers. He also knows Michael desperately wants to impress his new boyfriend, Calum, with their decorations. 

Luke is finally steeling himself to take the werewolf's head and be done with it when he hears a groan next to him. 

“You’re not really going to take that, are you?” The voice says. There’s an Australian accent there, which surprises Luke so far away from home. So far in New York, it feels like it’s just him and Michael and now Michael’s boyfriend Calum, who are from his home country. He turns, wondering what kind of stranger just decides to address someone in the store and is surprised by the person staring back at him. It’s a rather attractive guy, all brown curls with brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks showing as he’s smiling at Luke. Luke blushes, glancing away from him and back to the head. 

“My roommate likes scary decorations and stuff.”

“Well, it’s a horrible stereotype. How would you like it if someone hung your face up on a wall, full of teeth and blood?”

Luke wrinkles his nose. He’s never met a werewolf, but he can’t imagine it would be fun to have people think that. It’s already not fun when he and Michael meet people who automatically assume that fairies are out to trick people and con them. Luke only did that once and it was to pass a class. 

“I guess. But they are hunters.”

“Please, they’d be much more civilized than that. You don’t go around eating your meat raw and bloody do you? Besides, who even hunts to eat anymore?” 

“Well, what about full moons then? What about a transformation?”

“You mean why do werewolves have to hunt and kill? Maybe they just like playing with their friends and rough housing. They certainly don’t look like that,” the guy says, jerking his thumb towards the head.

“Well, I have to go home with something. What do you propose if you’re so against the werewolf head?” Luke asks. The guy lights up immediately, full of enthusiasm. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. 

“You seem like someone who would like something elegant. What about this?” He says, pulling the wreath off the rack and handing it to Luke. In this light, up close, Luke can see that there’s glitter on the edges, letting the roses sparkle in the light. Luke runs his finger over the edge, wondering if he can spell it so that the roses will be more realistic and alive, while still being wholly fake and preserved. He’s surprised this stranger was able to figure out so quickly what Luke likes, but it could be the floral shirt that he’s wearing, too.

Luke glances up, smiling gently to show his approval. The guy grins even wider, dimples deepening.  

“What else do you suggest?” Luke asks. The guy immediately starts to pull things from the shelves, babbling at Luke about how nice the various things are, small smiling bats and little arched black cats. He goes around pulling out the most objectively least scary things that somehow manage to be adorable. Luke is a little in love with this man, who’s dumping a fake candelabra into his basket, telling him that the black and gold looks elegant, but spooky. 

They stop in front of the fake animal skeletons. Luke is a little put off by the incorrect spiders and snakes. They’re not supposed to look like that at all, beady eyes staring at him. The cat draws his attention though, arched back and skeletal smile on its jaw. It looks...fun. Wholesome. Luke reaches out and pets along the back, charmed by how incorrect it truly is, little ears and all. 

“You should get it,” The guy says. Luke looks over at him, startled by how fond his face is staring back at Luke. Luke blushes, embarrassed that this guy saw him petting a skeleton cat. The guy doesn’t seem to care, simply picking the cat up and holding it out to him. 

“It’s silly.” 

“Nothing’s silly if it makes you smile,” he says, holding the cat out further towards him. Luke takes her, staring down into the cat’s little face. It smiles back at him. 

“What should I name her? Names are important you know,” Luke says solemnly. It’s a fairy tradition, after all. 

The guy furrows his brow, biting his lip a little. “Name her Petunia. A nice name for a nice cat.” 

Luke smiles, nodding. “Petunia. I like it.” 

The guy grins back at him, “Anytime. Always glad to help a cute stranger on their quest for Halloween.” 

He walks away, throwing Luke a wave and a wink. Luke blushes, staring down at Petunia. Naturally she offers him no advice in the matter. 

It isn’t until Luke gets home and has faced the ire of Michael because of the lack of scary Halloween decorations that he realizes he should have asked the cute guy for his name and number. Now, he’s never going to see him again. It’s the real travesty of the night, leaving Luke sad, followed around by a little storm cloud as he wallows in his unhappiness. 

***

Luke can’t believe he’s waited this long to buy candy. Usually they’re on top of it, big bags of assorted candy bought at the start of the season, ready to give out to the kids in their apartment building and for Luke and Michael to binge eat while watching movies. However, this is the first year they’ve thrown a Halloween party and they’ve mis-estimated the amount of candy needed. They still have a few weeks left, but they’ve realized that the usual two bags won’t cut it if they’re having people over and want to put it out for the party. 

Michael is busy with work all day, but still insisted that if they want to get any of the good stuff, it has to be done today. So now Luke is standing in yet another aisle of a department store, trying to figure out what on Earth Michael means by “the good stuff.” 

Luke knows that he likes Reese’s and that Michael is partial to anything with mint in it, but Luke’s not sure what else to get. Chocolate and candy isn’t really a thing for fairies growing up. It wasn’t until Luke and Michael moved to New York that they’ve even come into contact with the stuff and he’s still learning what it is that people like. He’s got a bag of assorted chocolates, a couple packs of mint chocolate Kit Kat’s for Michael, and a bag of mini Reese’s for himself, but he feels like he’s missing something. 

“You can’t only be buying chocolate,” A voice says next to Luke. Luke startles at the familiar accent, turning to see that it’s the same guy from the decorations. Luke is dumbstruck by the coincidence of the whole thing. Here he was, sure he’d never see the man again and now here he is, standing in the candy  aisle of a Walgreens and telling him that he’s making the wrong candy choices. 

“It’s you,” Luke says, at a loss for what else to say. The guy grins, all sparkling eyes and dimples. He looks like a Disney prince. 

“I’d ask if you’re stalking me, but I don’t know if you’d be doing that in a drug store at 3pm on a Monday. How’d your roommate like the decorations?” 

“Mad that they weren’t scary. Said I ruined the holiday until his boyfriend came over and said he preferred our decorations to the other things he’s seen for the season. Now Michael can’t get enough of them. Although he keeps trying to change Petunia’s name.” 

“Well he’s not allowed to. That’s her name and it’s the only one she’ll answer to,” the guy says, serious expression on his face broken by the wink he sends Luke. Luke blushes, turning back to the candy. 

“First you judge my decoration choices, now you’re judging my choice in candy. What will you judge next?” Luke teases. 

“Well, you pick scary decorations and now chocolate. I’m starting to think you have a vendetta against werewolves.” 

Luke scoffs, trying to put on an air of disbelief. “Come on, you don’t really think werewolves are real.” 

“It is Halloween season. Anything is possible.” He grins. Luke notices his teeth look a little sharper than most people’s, but doesn’t think anything of it. 

“What else am I supposed to buy if not for chocolate? It’s a staple of the season.” 

The guy furrows his brow, turning to look at the shelves of candy. He snaps his fingers and leans down, grabbing a bag of what looks like sour gummies. He tosses the bag into Luke’s basket. 

“Oh, so werewolves don’t like chocolate, but they like candy that hurts to eat.” 

“If werewolves are part dog, they’d have chocolate allergies. Sour candy is safe and allergy free. Besides, maybe they like a little kick with their sweet,” The guy says, winking. 

Is this guy flirting with him? Luke can’t possibly be that lucky. 

“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I tend to prefer saltiness with my chocolate,” Luke says. The guy grins even wider and Luke blushes, realizing it sounds a bit like a come on. 

“Guess you’ll just have to try it and see.” 

Luke turns away, grabbing another bag of sour gummies and putting it in with the others. Luke turns to the guy, ready to ask him for his name and number, when his phone goes off. He shoots Luke an apologetic look and pulls it out of his pocket, eyes going wide when he sees the name of whoever it is. 

“Sorry, I have to take this. Good luck with Halloween.” And with that he rushes out of the store, partially running to get outside. 

Dejected, Luke buys his candy and heads back to the apartment. He dumps it onto the counter, ripping open one of the bags of sour gummies to give it a try. They’re not bad, the little bit of kick at the edge of sweetness is enough to override the loss of feeling Luke’s having in his mouth after the first bag. 

Michael comes home an hour later, finding Luke moping on the couch with his candy. When asked, all Luke can say is that the universe is out to stop him from getting a boyfriend. Michael wants to know what sour gummies, something neither of them has had before, has to do with any of that. 

***

Luke isn’t sure how he ended up here in the Halloween store, but it seems to be where he is. A combination of needing to get away from Michael and Calum’s making out and general boredom has led him here. It’s the last week before Halloween and he’s rummaging through the remains of what’s left for costumes, combing through glittery fairy wings and bad makeup. It’s really his fault for waiting so long to find a costume for the party, but it’s not like Luke actually needs a costume at all. He is a fairy and so, understandably, he already has fairy wings to wear. He has slightly pointed ears and golden eyes and there’s glitter that goes with him everywhere. It doesn’t mean it’s not still fun to go to the stores, watch the teen girls try to look like mermaids and little kids dress up in superhero costumes. Luke just usually tries to go earlier than this because now all that’s left are the rejected costumes and the college students trying to make a mad dash to make something out of whatever is left.

Luke shifts through the fairy costumes so he can send pictures to Michael of what people seem to think fairies look like when someone bumps into him. He startles, turning around. 

The person who’s bumped into him looks to be a guy about his age, with windswept brown hair and large brown eyes. He throws his hands up in mock surrender when he sees Luke looking at him. It reminds Luke vaguely of a puppy who knows they’ve done something wrong and is trying to look innocent. He looks familiar, but Luke’s not sure why.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Should really be more careful about where I’m going,” The guy says. Luke perks up at the hint of Australian accent. It can’t be that same guy Luke’s been running into all over town. First with the decorations and then the candy. Is it too much to hope that Luke would meet the cute guy here? What are the odds he’d also be looking for a costume last minute? Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him after all. 

“It’s you! My werewolf decoration and no chocolate guy!” Luke says, grinning when the guy breaks into a full smile.

“I knew you looked familiar! Could never forget a pretty face like that. It seems that fate has brought us together in this horribly placed Halloween store. Ashton,” The guy says, sticking his hand out. Luke takes it gently, letting the guy shake it with far too much enthusiasm for someone he’s only met a handful of times. He really does remind Luke of an overeager puppy. Luke might already have a crush on him, with how cute and happy he is.

“Luke. Feels nice to finally be on a first name basis with the man my roommate has a grudge against now.”

Ashton laughs, a short bark of a thing. “So, what brings you to a costume store so late in the season? You seem too put together to have waited until the last minute, considering how detailed you were about the decorations and the candy.”

Luke blushes. “Oh, I have my costume. I just like to come to the stores and look around. There’s something funny about going to a Halloween store so late and seeing the chaos of it all. Besides, it can never hurt to have too many accessories for a look. Who would wait this long anyway?”

Ashton laughs, “Well, then it seems I’m the chaos you’re looking for. I managed to wait for the last minute for a costume and now I’m rushing to find one for a last minute party. Maybe you could help me?”

Luke’s a little surprised. It’s rather bold of Ashton to ask a stranger to accompany him while looking for costumes. Not that Luke’s going to turn down what feels like a date with a cute guy. He hasn’t gone on a date with a cute guy in ages. Maybe he can manage to convince Ashton to hold his hand. 

“We can certainly try. What are you looking for?” 

“I’m not sure yet. Usually I like to take a look around and see what’s left. Sometimes it’s fun, trying to make a costume out of the things people don’t want.” 

Luke is horrified. “How can you not plan for something like that? Costumes take detail and work. Why would you leave it all up to chance?” 

“Maybe you need to learn to live a little, Luke.” 

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what my costume is.” 

Ashton looks him up and down and it feels a little like being checked out. He preens a little under Ashton’s gaze. Ashton looks up, blushing slightly when he meets Luke’s eyes. 

“Let me guess. You’ll be a princess. Or a mermaid. Since you are Australian and all.” 

Luke shakes his head, “Close, but not quite.” 

Ashton glances over at the fairy wings Luke's been looking at. “Oh! A fairy. How charming. It fits you.” 

“Are you going to be a prince? You’d make a nice companion for Cinderella.” 

Ashton laughs, “Can’t say that princesses are my thing, really. Besides, princes are boring and stuffy. It lacks imagination and adventure.” 

Luke looks around, “Unless you wanna be a prince or a superhero, it looks like you’re out of luck shopping at this place. They’re almost out of everything since, you know, it’s the week before Halloween.” 

“I know a better costume store a bit outside of the city. Why don’t we set up a day and go shopping together? Since you seem to have a lot of opinions about my outfit, it seems fitting you should help me look,” Ashton says, holding his hand out, raising his eyebrows expectantly. There’s a pause as Luke realizes that Ashton is asking Luke for his phone. For his number. 

Luke can do little else but take out his phone, unlock it, and hand it over to Ashton. He messes around with it for a few moments, inputting his number and sending a text to himself. He hands the phone back to Luke smiling. 

“There. Now you have my number. Text me when you’re free and we’ll set something up,” Ashton says, winking at Luke as he turns on his heel. Dumbstruck, Luke looks down at his phone, laughing when he realizes that Ashton put a little wolf emoji next to his name. He’s really committed himself to this joke it seems. Luke is too on Cloud Nine to think about it any further, going home to proclaim to Michael that he’s finally met the love of his life and that they’re going on a date. 

***

Luke has been anxious waiting for his “date” with Ashton. He refuses to call it a date, doesn’t want to get his hopes up, even though Michael has been calling it one for the last week. He’s been talking to Ashton almost nonstop since getting his number. It’s been fun, sending Ashton his daily thoughts and happenings of the day. He’d sent Ashton a picture of chocolate the other day and had gotten a little frowny face emoji in response. It’s terribly endearing of Ashton and Luke thinks it’s funny that he’s so committed to some goofy werewolf joke for the season. 

They’d agreed to meet on the 30th, later in the afternoon after work, which seemed like a dumb idea to Luke, even if Ashton insists that it’s more fun going through Halloween stores to try and make a costume out of what’s leftover. Especially because Ashton insists that the store he knows outside of the city has better things. Luke has been standing outside of the subway entrance for the last fifteen minutes and he’s starting to get nervous that Ashton isn’t coming. Luke’s just about steeled himself to give up and go home when Ashton comes sprinting down the block, stopping directly in front of Luke. He bends in half, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry. I got a little hung up this morning and lost track of time,” Ashton says, still trying to take a deep breath. He looks disheveled and winded, curls tangled around his face and brown eyes wide as he looks up at Luke. He looks like he’s doing his best imitation of a puppy who knows they shouldn’t have wrecked something and now they’re hoping to fix it by being cute. Luke would like to pretend it won’t work on him, but who is he kidding. 

“It’s fine. I was just worried you forgot,” Luke says, trying to keep his tone light and not betray his worry.

“How could I forget a date with the cutest guy to look at costumes?” Ashton asks, an earnest expression on his face. 

Luke blushes, glancing away from Ashton. He doesn’t want to admit how much of an effect Ashton has on him. He hasn’t known Ashton long enough to be this smitten. 

“We should leave now if we want to make the train in time. Your running late messed up our time table,” Luke says. 

Ashton grins. “Who knew you were so punctual? We’d better hurry, then.” 

Ashton grabs a hold of Luke’s hand, tugging him down into the subway station. Luke allows himself to be pulled along, too focused on the grip Ashton has on his hand to pay attention to much of anything else. He’s only mildly aware of swiping his Metrocard and rushing to the right platform for the train. 

They manage to make it in time, Ashton tugging them to an open seat. They collapse onto the seats, pressed close to each other. Luke is hyper aware of how their thighs are touching; they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip. Ashton hasn’t let go of Luke’s hand, instead choosing to lace their fingers together and squeeze. Luke flushes, surprised at how affectionate Ashton is with someone who is largely a stranger. 

“So, how do you know about this place? You mentioned it was a little outside of town,” Luke asks, hoping that focusing on the conversation will take his attention away from Ashton’s grip. He’s never been this smitten over someone who’s human. He’s supposed to have this effect on people, not the other way around. 

“A friend of a friend. I found out about it one year when I was looking for a costume in college and now I just keep going back. It’s nice. They always have a good selection and it’s usually stuff I wouldn’t know about.”

Luke hums. He doesn’t have very many friends here. Despite the fact that he works at a fairly nice interior design company in the city, it’s hard for Luke to make friends. He has to always be on alert about using his magic and about being too open with non-magical people. It makes him worried and anxious some days, especially when he uses his magic at work for little things. Sometimes he uses it to change the color of a couch or curtains when he can’t find the right color. Sometimes he uses it on the room he’s designing, to bring his clients peace and happiness. He’s never malicious with his magic. Despite the stories, fairies aren’t supposed to be mean. They’re mischievous and like playing tricks, but magic shouldn’t be mean. Luke just likes using his magic when he knows it will help his clients, give them everything they want. He knows it’s why Michael opened the little café he owns, started using magic blended into the food and drinks for happiness and easing worries and whatever else he thought people might need. It’s nice, knowing that there’s some way the two of them can help people. 

Ashton clears his throat, drawing Luke’s attention back to him.  

“So Luke, what do you do? You seem awfully free during the day for someone with a job.” 

“I’m an interior designer. Usually I’m working at this time, but sometimes I get a little flexibility with my schedule,” Luke says. He doesn’t mention that he might have spelled his boss a little to let him leave early so he could meet Ashton. It’s not like Ashton needs that information. 

Ashton gives Luke a once over, smiling a bit, “I can see that. You seem very stylish and put together. You would be something snotty.” 

Luke scoffs in fake offense and smacks Ashton on the shoulder, “Well, what do you do, Mr. Big Shot, that lets you leave in the middle of a work day if you’re going to tease me?” 

“I’m a lawyer. Nothing too fancy, I do copyright law and such, but it’s nice.” 

“Well, maybe you’re the fancy one with your high rise job,” Luke says. Ashton frowns a little bit before he must realize Luke is teasing. He huffs, rolling his eyes. 

They chat for a bit on the rest of the drive, talking about growing up back home and what brought them here (school it seems is the answer), and what it is they do at their jobs.  Luke’s so caught in the conversation, he almost forgets why they’re even on this trip until Ashton perks up. 

“Our stop is next.” 

“What?” Luke asks, letting Ashton pull him up to stand and tug him towards the door. Luke doesn’t know how Ashton even heard any kind of announcement from where he was sitting.

Ashton ignores him, instead tugging him towards the door. Luke grabs onto one of the poles as the train slows, still managing to slide a little bit and bump into Ashton. They’re still holding hands.

The train comes to a stop and Ashton tugs Luke out and down the street, pulling them in the direction of where the shop must be. It’s an older looking building, with a sign out front advertising the Halloween store inside. It feels lived in, a product of love and familiarity around it. It puts Luke at ease a bit, convinced there won’t be creepy statues jumping out at him here.

There’s a bell over the door that dings when they enter. Ashton clears his throat before yelling, “Kaykay!”

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the store and then Luke hears an excited, “Ashton?”

The girl that pops out from the back curtains is short with bright blue hair. Her face breaks into a wide grin as she sprints across the store, launching herself at Ashton to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Luke doesn’t realize until Ashton tugs his hand away to hug the girl, laughing, that he’s been holding his hand the whole time. He blushes, glancing away.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Kaykay says when she detangles herself from Ashton. 

Ashton grins, “I’m taking a friend costume shopping and thought of your store. Figured I had to show him a proper Halloween store.”

They both turn their attention to Luke. Luke blushes under the gaze of this girl, clearly an old friend of Ashton’s. She narrows her eyes a bit, looking Luke up and down. He must pass whatever test she has though, because her face breaks into a grin and she sticks her hand out. 

“Kaykay. I own this lovely shop. You seem much too nice for our Ashton. How on Earth did you meet him?” 

“Luke. He harassed me in a store about Halloween decorations and now I can’t seem to get rid of him,” Luke says, shaking her hand. She laughs loudly, snorting slightly at the end. Ashton pouts, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s almost relief. Luke tries not to read too much into it, that Ashton’s happy that Luke and one of his friends are getting along. 

“Well, if you want good costumes this is the place. I have it all. Ashton can show you around. Holler if you need anything,” She says, bumping Ashton’s shoulder with a grin as she heads towards the back again. 

“How do you know her? Doesn’t seem like the kind of place for a lawyer to casually be at.” 

“Her girlfriend is my tattoo artist,” Ashton says, heading in the direction of what looks like the magical creature section. Luke perks up, following him. Maybe if he plays it right, he can see Ashton’s tattoos. 

Ashton rugs out a pair of purple fairy wings and shows them to Luke. They’re ornate, large and iridescent in the light. Luke’s surprised by how close to accurate they are, running his fingers along the edge of them. They remind him of his own wings as they catch the light, casting a rainbow into the ground. 

“What about these?” 

“They’re lovely, but I already have my costume. Besides, we’re looking for something for you,” Luke points out, letting go of the wings and setting off further into the aisle. He stops in front of the werewolf costumes, face to face with another snarling mask. He startles, taking a step back and bumping into Ashton. 

“What about this? You keep making all those jokes about werewolves.” 

“You can’t be serious, Luke? I mean, look at it. It’s not even close to accurate. Werewolves are part wolves, they wouldn’t stand on two legs. And besides, they wouldn’t have red eyes either.” 

“You sure know a lot about werewolves for someone who claims to dislike the way they’re portrayed.” 

“I, uh, read a lot,” Ashton says, blushing a bit when Luke looks at him, raising an eyebrow. It’s adorable seeing him so passionate about something. Luke leans over, brushing a strand of loose hair behind Ashton’s ear. Luke feels so warm suddenly, this close to him, casual touches and all. He can’t possibly feel like he’s known Ashton so long, so personally, but he does. It feels like Ashton keeps sharing intimate parts of himself with Luke and Luke’s never been so taken by a human before. It’s going to break Luke’s heart if Ashton figures out that Luke is a fairy and leaves him. It’s happened before, but Luke doesn’t know if he could survive this one. 

A crash from the back of the store startles them both. Luke pulls his hand away from Ashton’s ear, blushing as he turns back to the costumes. He picks up a pair of wolf ears and sticks them on top of Ashton’s head.

“Here, you can wear these instead. Now you’re a cute werewolf,” Luke says, giggling. Ashton smiles, touching the tips of the ears. Luke pulls a wolf tail off the rack too, holding it out to Ashton. He laughs, sharp and quick, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re really going to lean into the wolf thing, huh?”

“Well, you made all those werewolf comments. What else could you possibly be?” Luke says. He misses the way Ashton tenses slightly, relaxing when he must realize Luke’s teasing him.

“You need to get something too,” Ashton points out. He turns back towards where they came from, heading off in that direction again. Luke follows after him, stopping when Ashton picks up an intricate floral headpiece and puts it onto Luke’s head.

“If you’re going to be a fairy, you need a headpiece. It’s tradition,” Ashton says firmly. Luke doesn’t usually wear any type of floral headpiece because it feels too on the nose, but the earnest adoration on Ashton’s face as he looks at Luke might sway him. Luke nods and Ashton grins, taking the crown off his head and continuing through the store.

They walk around for a little bit, commenting on the different costumes and decorations until it’s late enough that they both realize they have to head back home. They take their purchases up the register, where Kaykay’s standing, staring at the two of them. She laughs, pointing at the wolf ears Ashton’s still wearing, clearly forgotten about. Ashton blushes, pulling them off and putting them on the counter for her to ring up and bag.

They head back to the subway and ride it back into the City. Luke’s exhausted suddenly, tired from the day and knowing that he’ll have to spend part of tomorrow setting up for the party. 

“Have fun at your Halloween party. You’ll have to send me a picture of your outfit once you get all dressed up,” Ashton says when they finally leave the subway, getting ready to part ways.

“You’ll have to show me how the wolf ears look with your whole outfit. Very Teen Wolf of you,” Luke says. Ashton laughs and leans over, placing a kiss on Luke’s cheek before turning to walk away, waving. Luke is stunned, rooted to the spot when he realizes that Ashton just kissed him. Ashton gets halfway down the block before he stops, turning back to look at Luke, red in the face. Luke waves back, hoping his face doesn’t betray how startled he feels. Ashton waves back, turning around and heading off in his direction. Luke turns around, following suit.

He makes it all the way home, still stunned by the turn of events.

“What’s gotten into you?” Michael asks, when Luke enters the apartment.

“I think I have a crush on a human.”

Michael groans, shaking his head, “You’re a disaster fairy, you know that right?”

Luke changes Michael’s hair pink in retaliation.

***

The party’s in full swing by nine. Luke is overwhelmed,  his apartment crammed with people and loud with music. He’s been playing host for the last few hours, but it’s simply too much for him to handle; too much energy to talk to all the people here and smile and laugh, when most of them are Michael’s friends, or people he’s met at the bakery and friends of friends and Luke has had to use too much of his charm to keep up appearances. He’d lost Michael as soon as Calum showed up to help set up, Michael happy to latch himself onto his boyfriend, covering him in glitter and laughing, giddy and excited. Calum is dressed as some kind of Devil, red horns and all, grinning wildly when he’d seen Michael’s look. 

Michael and Luke tend to take advantage of the fairy wings, working them into every Halloween costume they do. Luke tends to go classy with his look, soft fabrics and light colors, trying to look enchanting and ethereal. Michael tends to go the way of a Victoria’s Secret model, short skirts and bright colors. Tonight’s no different. Luke can see the tips of Michael’s bright green wings in the kitchen, where he’s laughing next to Calum, in his black lacy bra and matching lacy boy shorts. This year, he’s wearing a long floral printed skirt, cut high in the front to expose the lace panties, and a matching floral see-through top on, covered in small fake flowers in bright blues. He’s surrounded by a cloud of glitter, sparkling in the light and charming everyone who’s talking to him. Although, some of that could be the fact that his nipples are practically visible in the bra and that Calum has one hand wrapped around his waist, squeezing Michael’s hip whenever someone laughs too loud or gets too close to Michael. Michael doesn’t seem to mind, though, leaning into Calum whenever he does it, turning to kiss him on the cheek.

Luke is hiding in the corner of the living room, drinking whatever cider it is they have and wondering if he can hide from the crowd in his room without being rude, when he hears a whistle to his right. 

“If I’d known you would be here, I’d have brought some flowers to go with your crown,” a familiar voice next to him says. Luke perks up when he realizes who it is. 

“Ashton! What are you doing here?” Luke turns, laughing when he sees Ashton. He’s wearing the wolf ears and tail they’d bought together, a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. Luke can see that Ashton has a set of moon tattoos on his forearm. He looks like a perfectly ordinary “werewolf,” smiling shyly at Luke as he gets closer. 

“Would you believe me if I said Calum’s my best friend? He kept saying he was going to a party his boyfriend was hosting and asked me to come along, said Michael wouldn’t mind. I have to say, the decorations I picked out look nice. And I appreciate the candy,” Ashton says, grinning as he shakes the packet of sour gummies. Luke blushes, laughing and glancing away. It’s charming, how committed Ashton is to the joke of the whole thing, standing in Luke’s living room, framed by the low lights as Monster Mash plays in the background. He can’t believe a human is having this effect on him; it's ridiculous. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying the party.” 

“Enjoying it much more now that I’ve seen you. I’m glad to see you’re wearing the crown. When you said you were dressing as a fairy, I wasn’t expecting this. They look so real,” Ashton says in awe, reaching out to ghost his fingers lightly over Luke’s wings. They’re beautiful, iridescent pink and purple, gold glitter shedding from them whenever Luke moves slightly. Luke’s dropped his glamour for the night, letting his ears and noses become pointer, eyes their usual liquid gold color, framed in gold eyeshadow and pink lipstick. Luke’s even wearing the flower crown, soft pink and yellow blending into his blonde curls. He thinks his wings look nice with the gauzy green tulle dress he’s wearing, covered in little fabric flowers. He’s wearing a forest green lace bodysuit underneath it, easily visible through the tulle, and nude high heels. Luke knows he looks good, miles of long legs shimmering in the light, every bit the part of ethereal fairy the storybooks say he is. Ashton looks captivated by Luke, unable to look away from his wings. It bothers Luke a little, worried that Ashton only likes him because of how pretty he looks, not because of who he is.

“They should. I paid good money for this,” Luke says, his usual answer whenever someone asks about the wings. “I should have known you’d go as a werewolf, though. Are the tattoos special just for it?”

Luke reaches out, brushing a thumb over Ashton’s forearm. Ashton shudders a little under Luke’s touch, moving his arm to give him a better view of the little red and black moons. They look like a series of moon phase tattoos. How appropriate.

“You’re very committed to your werewolf joke.”

“Yeah, something like that. I saw them in a painting once and had to get them. I’ve always liked the moon,” Ashton says, voice low, watching as Luke continues to rub his thumb over them. They’re breathing in sync, Luke realizes, connected by Luke's touch on Ashton’s skin, Ashton’s fingertips still pressed lightly to Luke’s wings. Luke wants to make a joke, turn on the charm and flirt with Ashton like he usually does with people, but he can’t find the words. He’s so captivated by Ashton and his presence, trapped in his pull. 

There’s a loud whoop from the kitchen area, startling them both. Luke pulls his hand back, gripping onto his bottle tighter as Ashton coughs slightly, tugging on his sleeve. 

“Do you want to, um, I can give you a tour?” Luke says, voice raising in question as he glances at Ashton. Ashton perks up at that, glancing at Luke.

“Sure. I’d love to see your little home.”

Luke nods, taking the last pull from his bottle, noticing that Ashton’s staring at his throat when he tips his head back. Luke puts the bottle on the table next to them, turning to Ashton and putting on his best flirty smile. 

Luke takes Ashton’s hand, interlocking their fingers and tugging him into the back of the apartment.

 “You’ve seen the kitchen and the living room already. Michael’s room is back here and so is the bathroom and my room,” Luke says. He stops in front of the bathroom door, waving his hand a little to the inside. Ashton steps in, whistling when he notices the floral shower curtain and all the other little flower accents in the room. 

“You guys really like flowers don’t you?” 

“Well, we have to have some nature in the middle of the big city,” Luke says, stepping in after Ashton. Luke closes the door gently behind him, muffling some of the noise from the party. Ashton turns to Luke, smiling. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s nice, sweet of you. Matches your outfit,” He says. He takes a step towards Luke, raising his hand a little as if he’s going to touch the flowers on Luke’s dress. He glances up at Luke, tilting his head in question. Luke nods quickly. 

Ashton grins, running his fingers along one of the flowers on Luke’s dress. He uses his other hand to reach up and cup Luke’s cheek in his hand, humming slightly. 

“Your ears are very impressive. I’m sure Kaykay would love to know where you found them. Your eyes are so golden.” 

“I use really good contacts,” Luke mumbles, turning into Ashton’s palm. He presses a soft kiss to the palm, hoping it will signal to Ashton that he wants to be kissed. Ashton seems to understand, tugging Luke down a little and pressing a soft kiss to Luke’s lips. 

Luke deepens the kiss, tilting his head and nipping lightly on Ashton’s lips. Ashton growls, turning them so Luke is pressed against the countertop. Ashton pulls away, nipping along Luke’s jawline and neck. Luke squirms a little, giddy and excited about the turn of events. Ashton runs his hands along the back of Luke’s thighs. Luke sighs at the touch on his legs, warm through the dress fabric, hypersensitive and hyper aware of what’s happening. 

Ashton nudges Luke slightly, obviously trying to get him to sit on the counter. Luke obliges, pushing himself up onto the edge and tugging Ashton in between his spread thighs. Ashton continues to kiss along his neck and collarbone, running his fingers along Luke’s legs, pressing under the skirt and onto his skin. Luke wraps both arms around Ashton’s shoulders, playing slightly with the curls at the base of his neck. Ashton leans up, pulling Luke back into a soft, open mouth kiss, full of warmth and the sour sweet taste of candy. 

Ashton pulls back, glancing up at Luke. He’s shimmering with glitter from Luke’s touch. His face is full of such wonder and adoration and for a moment Luke is afraid. Afraid that Ashton doesn’t like him at all, that Luke’s just used his magic to have his way and Ashton is going to leave him. 

“You’re so beautiful. I’m going to be covered in glitter forever.” 

“Well, at least you’ll have something to remember me by,” Luke teases, trying to keep the mood light. Ashton hums, running his fingers along the edge of the body suit, squeezing at Luke’s thighs. 

“As much as I love kissing you, I do tend to prefer to take the people I fancy out on dates first.” 

“Oh?”

“Would you maybe want to get breakfast? Brunch? Something food related in the daylight. A proper date. Tomorrow?” 

Luke’s heartbeat speeds up. Ashton looks so earnest and open, glancing up at Luke bashfully. It’s so charming and endearing to see Ashton like this. 

“Of course I would,” Luke whispers, running his fingers through Ashton’s hair. Ashton grins, nuzzling into Luke’s neck as Luke laughs. 

“Wonderful. Amazing. We should get back to the party before anyone misses us.” 

Luke nods, let’s Ashton help him down off the countertop and straighten himself out. He presses a kiss to Luke’s bare shoulder, grinning when he catches Luke’s eye in the mirror. 

They venture back into the party, going off to find Michael and Calum. Luke realizes halfway through talking to them that Ashton is holding his hand, that he hasn’t let go since the bathroom. He catches Michael’s eye, who’s grinning and wiggling his eyebrows at him. Luke huffs, glancing away from him and back to Ashton. It feels right, standing here in his kitchen, close to Ashton. It feels like he was always meant to be here. He doesn’t even mind when he has to help clean up later with Michael, after everyone has left and it’s just the two of them. 

Luke changes and gets into bed, checking his phone before going to sleep, seeing that there’s a text from Ashton. It’s a little heart, message reading Good night sweet fairy. Luke blushes, but his heart soars at the idea of a boyfriend, of Ashton as his boyfriend. He knows he’ll have to explain himself tomorrow but for now, he can live in this little fantasy world where everything is perfect and no one will get their heart broken with any kind of revelation. 

***

Luke is nervous. Luke has never been nervous for a date before. He’s gone out with plenty of people, human and magical alike, and he’s never been nervous. Yet here he is, standing outside of the little coffee shop he and Ashton agreed to meet at, biting his lip and twisting his ring around his finger. He’s bitten his lip raw it seems, too anxious and worked up about seeing Ashton to sit still. He’s been thinking about this since last night, spent half the night staring up at the ceiling worrying about seeing Ashton. What if Ashton only likes him because Luke accidentally used his magic? What if Ashton only likes this magical version of Luke, and not Luke, who’s regular and boring and ordinary? 

Luke doesn’t know if he can take it if Ashton doesn’t like him the same way. Luke’s been known to accidentally enchant people before, put them under a fairy spell, creating love where there is none. It’ll break his heart if the spark he’s felt with Ashton is manufactured and fake. He likes Ashton so much, all teasing and bright laughs, dorky jokes and adoring eyes. 

“What’s got you so focused?” Ashton’s voice startles Luke, pulling his attention to the man who’s appeared out of nowhere. Ashton looks good, with his leather jacket and windswept hair. He looks worried as he stares at Luke. 

“Nothing. Just nervous, that’s all.” 

Ashton reaches forward, grabbing Luke’s hand. “About what?” 

Luke looks down at their interlocked fingers, blushing when Ashton rubs his thumb along the back of Luke’s hand. “Our date.” 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve already seen your apartment and I’ve met your annoying roommate. You’ve met my annoying best friend and you laugh at my bad jokes. We’ve already passed all the awkward steps of dating.” 

“Dating?” Luke squeaks out. If he’d known they were dating, he would have dressed nicer. 

Ashton grins. “As long as you don’t order chocolate.”  

He tugs a stunned Luke into the coffee shop, going up to the counter to order them coffee and sandwiches to eat. He takes the number from the girl at the register and guides them towards an empty table. 

“So, if we’re going to date, I think there’s something I need to tell you,” Luke says. Better to get it over with now before either of them gets in too deep. 

Ashton’s face falls, “You know?” 

“Know what?” 

“About me?”

Luke pauses, tilting his head in confusion, “What about you?” 

“That I’m, you know…” 

“A big fan of dogs? You like fairy tales? You make bad jokes?” Luke asks. He’s terribly confused as to what Ashton could be talking about. Ashton’s a human, isn’t he? 

Ashton groans. He leans back in the chair, tilting his head up. “Oh my god I thought Cal would have told you both.” 

“Told us what? Ashton, what was Calum supposed to tell us?” 

“That we’re werewolves,” Ashton hisses out, leaning in close to Luke. Luke’s eyes go wide. He’s completely shocked. Although, maybe all the jokes now about werewolves make more sense. God, the moon tattoos are a dead give away, aren’t they now?

“What?”

“I thought you knew! Not before at the stores, obviously, but at the party. When I realized Calum was dating your friend. I thought Calum had told you both already.” 

“But the decorations! The costume! Your tattoos! Wait, are you allergic to chocolate,” Luke says. The panic is rising in his throat, shock clouding his judgement, glee tinting the edges of his mood. Ashton can’t possibly be a werewolf, Luke can’t possibly be that lucky. That Ashton’s like him. 

“I mean, most humans don’t get the jokes. But I thought you would have known about it. Except you didn’t say anything so I thought you were trying to be secretive about it. And no, I’m not allergic. It's just a funny little joke Calum and I have. And I prefer sour gummies, anyway,” Ashton says. His voice is rising in pitch, worry clear in his face. 

Luke is giddy though, full of glee. This means that Ashton is magical too! He understands Luke. Luke doesn’t have to hide! Luke reaches across the table, grabbing Ashton’s hand. “I should tell you that Michael and I are fairies.” 

It’s Ashton’s turn to look shocked and confused. “A what? Like, with the wings and shit? Like Tinkerbell?” 

Luke gasps in mock offense, smacking Ashton, “Not like Tinkerbell. Do I look small to you?” 

“Bratty enough,” Ashton says, grinning. 

“Well I’m not the werewolf with moon tattoos.” 

“Hey, you’re the fairy who wore his wings as a costume. Wait..that look wasn’t a costume, you actually look like that?” 

“Of course I do! Real wings and everything. What do you take me for?” 

“My whole bed is covered in glitter just from touching you. God I’m going to be covered in glitter forever, aren’t I?” 

“Only if you play rough during your time of the month,” Luke teases. 

“Excuse me Tinkerbell, it’s very rude to ask a werewolf about that. That’s a private and special thing.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” 

Ashton grins, nudging his foot against Luke’s, “Nah, I’m just messing with you. You deserve it after all the glitter I found in my hair.” 

“Just for that, I’m going to make sure you’ll be finding glitter all over your body forever.” 

“Forever? Only if you promise to wear more of that lingerie.” 

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes. He lets Ashton reach over and thread their fingers together again, kissing the back of Luke’s hand. Luke blushes. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Luke says. Ashton glances over at him. 

“I mean, I am a werewolf.” 

“And me being a fairy doesn’t bother you?” 

“Should it?”

“It’s just, you know, the magic thing.” 

“Are you worried you’re enchanting me? The only thing you’ve done is enchant me with how pretty you are. Werewolves are mostly immune to that kind of thing, anyway.”

Luke relaxes a little, slumping back into the chair. Ashton grins, leaning over the table to place a quick peck to Luke’s lips.

“What was that for?”

“You’re just the cutest. I’m very lucky to have such a cute boyfriend. Make all the other werewolves jealous.”

“Boyfriend?”

Ashton blushes, “I mean, if you want to. I’d like to date. Take you out places, cover my bed in glitter, other things.” Ashton wiggles his eyebrows.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Werewolves are massive dorks.”

“Only for you, Sugar Plum Fairy. Only for you,” Ashton says, laughing in the face of Luke’s mock horror and outrage. The conversation ends as their server brings them their drinks and food. They go about eating their meal, Ashton just as messy as Luke thought a werewolf would be.

“You’re staring,” Ashton says, glancing up at Luke.

“Just watching you eat, looking to see if I can see your fangs,” Luke teases. Ashton rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out.

“Come one, Cal,” Michael whines. “You’ve barely left campus or the apartment in weeks because of midterms. You can’t tell me that you really wanted to spend another night watching superhero movies in the living room.”

“That’s literally exactly what I wanted to do tonight. Mikey, my brain basically melted during that exam.”

“Great,” Michael starts as he swipes the papers from Calum’s hand and moves to open his car door. “Then this haunt probably won’t even scare you too bad like the ones we tried last year.”

Calum huffs out a breath as he opens his own door, slamming it closed a bit harder than probably necessary and joins Michael in front of the car. It’s early October so the air in their college town is cool but not yet cold. Either way, he’s thankful for the hoodie he had decided to bring to campus that morning. They head up in the direction of the fairgrounds and Calum lets Michael lead since he obviously has a bit more of an idea about where they’re headed.

“Or that’ll just make it even worse.” Calum tries to argue. “I’m barely a functioning human right now. My head is filled with integrals and fear, Michael.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be right there with you the whole time and if it really is that bad, I’ll owe you a hot chocolate and funnel cake once we get out, okay?”

Calum purses his lips in thought for a moment because that is a pretty good deal, all things considered. Plus he hasn’t had anything to eat since the late lunch he had a few hours before his exam and his stomach is yelling at the mere mention of junk food. “Fine.” he concedes. “But you aren’t allowed to make fun of me like last year if I get freaked out in there, okay?”

“You got it.”

They continue through the fair, the bright lights around the food and game booths starting to light up all colors of the rainbow as the sun makes its final descent below the horizon. It’s an awfully cheery prelude to a haunted house, Calum thinks, and he’s kinda surprised Michael somehow found a haunted house nestled into the middle of a fall fair. Around them, families and groups of high school kids wander with bright eyes and smiles from booth to booth. Kids clutch sugary treats and oversized stuffed animals while parents follow closely behind. Young couples wait in line for the ferris wheel and share clouds of cotton candy. It’s all such a rosy picture of an autumn evening and Calum wishes he were taking part in this rather than heading up toward the nightmare factory Michael is leading him towards.

Eventually, they reach a barricade where some kid in a neon t-shirt with the name of the haunted house printed across the front scans the printed tickets that Michael has and they’re pointed toward a line forming outside of the metal building that’s likely has some other not-so-spooky purpose outside of the month of October. In front of Michael and Calum are a group of boys probably around middle school age, if Calum had to guess. He’s considering how mortifying it’s going to be when a bunch of actual children hear him scream when Michael chimes in, as though hearing Calum’s thoughts.

“See, Cal,” Michael lets his elbow drop to lean on Calum’s shoulder. “These kids aren’t even scared of this. You’ll be totally fine.”

Calum is moments away from giving a snarky response when he catches a glimpse of the people in line behind them as he turns in Michael’s direction.

And of course the most beautiful boy he has ever laid his eyes on is just steps behind him and also about to witness Calum shriek like a baby at the sight of a clown or something.

The boy is accompanied by another (though their body language seems to be mimicking Calum and Michael as they laugh at something on a phone screen so for the time being he decides they are not on a date) and he’s tall, taller than Calum by a few inches probably. He’s got curly blonde hair tied up back into a little bun though the cool evening breeze has some of the hair around his face blowing into his blue eyes. Calum is trying not to be overdramatic but he thinks he might be looking at an angel. (Or a really pretty demon. He is like, seconds away from walking into one of his greater fears, after all.)

He shakes his head before abruptly turning back toward the front of the line to avoid staring when Michael, of course, decides to take a look at what Calum had been glancing towards. His face lights up and Calum assumes he’s about to be teased until they head into the haunt when Michael himself blushes just slightly across his nose before speaking. “Ashton! Is that you?”

The boy walking up with the angel pulls the hood from his sweatshirt off from around his head and smiles brightly. “Michael, funny seeing you here. How’s it going?”

“Doing well. Finally got the roommate out for an evening on the town since he’s been studying like it’s his full time job for the last three weeks.”

“Michael, we’re sophomores. Studying actually is my full time job,” Calum pouts. Great, he thinks, now the cute boy is going to think he’s a total nerd. Which he absolutely is but that’s not the point.

Ashton laughs at the exchange. “He’s got you there,” he starts while extending a hand out toward Calum. “I’m Ashton. Michael and I took developmental psychology together during summer session. This is my roommate, Luke.”

Calum accepts Ashton’s hand and smiles shyly first at him and then Luke, who holds his hand up in a short wave as Ashton introduces him. “I’m Calum. It’s nice to meet you guys.”

Similar greetings are exchanged among the four of them as they go through obligatory What’s your major? Where are you from? undergrad small talk as the line inches toward the entrance.

Michael and Ashton eventually pull the conversation toward what they’re taking in their psychology classes this semester (Ashton is a year ahead of the rest of them and Michael very obviously wants the low down on the finals he’ll be taking at the end of the semester but also Ashton’s number if Calum is reading the signs correctly). Luke laughs and turns his eyes toward Calum's as they’re shut out of the conversation.

Suddenly Luke is leaning in toward Calum's ear and he swears his heart skips a beat because Luke is very cute and smells very nice. Luke giggles softly before speaking quietly enough that it’s obvious he’s trying to avoid the other two hearing him. “Ash used to come home from that class with heart eyes, I swear. If he doesn’t get the guts to ask Michael out before the end of the night, we may need to take matters into our hands.”

Calum grins, feeling accomplished that he read the situation correctly. “You like playing matchmaker then?”

“Only when it’s for people being that dumb.” Luke gestures over to the blushing pair standing a couple feet away from them. He’s got a point, Calum admits silently. He’s been friends with Michael since they were kids and he knows that flirty face anywhere.

“Alright so if we get to the other side of this and they’re not exchanging numbers, how subtle do we go about suggesting they get together again to geek out about psych theories?”

Luke shakes his head, a playful grin playing at his lips. “Oh no, I’ve always found greater success with a more direct approach. It’s the engineering major in me. We like to face our problems head on.”

Calum is opening his mouth to make another comment back (though he will admit, trying to fit flirting into an exchange about setting up his best friend is a bit of a challenge he’s realizing) when the line starts moving again, bringing them just about to the front of the line. And of course, Calum was too distracted by the short banter the line allowed to pay attention to how much time had passed and now he’s just about to step into this mess of an idea of Michael’s.

The group of kids that had been in front of Michael and Calum are let in with the family that had been just before them, and the person running the door lets the four of them along with the couple behind Ashton and Luke know they’ll go through the haunt as a group. Ashton lets out a short laugh once the kids head off into the darkened doorway. “Honestly, glad we’re not going through with them. Love a haunted house but I swear kids will just scream so loud for fun in these things.”

Calum watches the three of them agree and he finds himself nodding but also silently preparing himself for being the annoying kid screaming. Though in his case it’s more because he’s a bit of a wimp and not just doing it for fun.

He chats back and forth with Luke for a few more minutes while they wait for their turn to head inside. Luke’s telling him about some ridiculous thing that happened in one of his labs the week before and Calum finds himself a little shocked at how quickly their conversation has become so comfortable. He’s not used to feeling so at ease with people so quickly that aren’t Michael or maybe his sister. He would sit with the feeling for longer, really let himself think on why he might be feeling that way, but then the kid at the door is telling them to head on inside.

The haunt starts basically in Calum’s least favorite kind of way. (Though given his disdain for these things, it’s not like he has a favorite but that doesn’t change how this is his least favorite.) It’s nearly pitch black as the group of six step inside and it’s just a little bit too quiet, the only sound in the room being the wind blowing against the metal roof of the building. He hears some snickering coming from the group that he tries to focus on as he squeezes his eyes shut and wills them to adjust to the lack of light.

Soon enough though there’s some scratching noises coming from the corners of the room and a couple actors in dark, obscure costumes pop out in the direction of their group. Calum contains most noises of panic, really just gasping as his feet stop short. The chest of the person walking behind him collides with his back while a gentle hand grabs onto his shoulder as the person steadies. Automatically, Calum assumes the person to be Michael since he’s typically the one jumping to comfort Calum with such little hesitation.

But then just in front of him he hears a giggle that he knows belongs to his best friend and he feels his forehead scrunching up in confusion until a voice speaks quietly near his ear. “You good?” Luke asks him, his hand still placed comfortingly against his shoulder. Calum feels his face relax then, his mind just a bit more at ease knowing that it’s not that other couple with them stuck behind his panicked body.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Calum whispers back to Luke after clearing his throat. Luke’s hand drops from his arm after what feels like a gentle squeeze and they continue on ahead. Calum takes a deep breath both in an effort to calm himself and in annoyance. Not only is he going to have nightmares for weeks after this but there’s also no way in hell he’ll be able to make eye contact with Luke once they’re out of this thing.

The scary noises drift in and out and Calum finds that those aren’t too bad. The hissing of a smoke machine lets him anticipate the floor of the next room being covered in a fog and he feels pretty proud of himself when he gets it right. The room isn’t too bad; the actors in there are obviously meant to be some brand of zombie and it was only about a week earlier that Michael and Calum did a rewatch of Zombieland for movie night so the memory leaves him giggling along with everyone else for once.

Calum is just starting to believe that maybe he’s got a grip of things this time around in terms of containing his fear at the whole situation when suddenly the room is filled with strobe lights and loud noises (chainsaws, maybe?) and Luke’s chest is once again colliding with Calum’s back as he shoots back some at the noise. This time around Calum feels gentle hands moving to hold onto his arms, the touch instantly one that calms him and gets his feet to start moving in the direction of the rest of the group again. Calum focuses on the feel of Luke’s warm hands tapping out a beat against the fabric of his sweatshirt and his view of the back of Michael’s head as they move down the path set out in the room to avoid looking at his surroundings too much.

The haunt isn’t a long one and according to what Calum had heard Michael saying about this place on their walk into the fairgrounds earlier in the night, there should only be a couple more rooms before their group reaches the end. Calum continues to jump at most of what is set up throughout them but he feels a lot more grounded and at ease than he typically would since about 75% of his attention is laser focused on the hand that Luke eventually moves to rest between Calum’s shoulders.

Soon enough though they’re back outside in the cool fall air and under the colorful lights of the fair. The settings oppose each other quite extremely, Calum thinks while he makes a little huddle with the other three boys. He can’t help but notice how Luke’s hand has yet to drop from his back and he leans just slightly back into his touch. Michael and Ashton are babbling along together and don’t notice the silent actions of the other two but when Calum turns toward Luke, their eyes meet and Luke’s already blushy cheeks go just a bit more pink.

Luke’s hand drops away from Calum’s back then and a confused look drops to his face. Luke looks toward the ground, a nervous smile playing at his lips. “Sorry I didn’t like, ask before trying to comfort you in there. Not exactly appropriate of an almost stranger, I guess.”

Calum shrugs. “It was welcomed, honestly,” he starts, his grin growing as Luke looks up at him a bit shocked. “I mean, I was very obviously ready to run out of there like two minutes in. You’re basically the only reason I didn’t turn and immediately head out. So, thank you.”

“Any time.” Luke smiles brightly.

They continue to just stare at one another for a few moments, neither really knowing what to say next, when Ashton clearing his throat pulls them out of it. Calum turns his face toward the other two and tries to control his shock when he sees Michael’s lazy grin and strong grip on Ashton’s hand. Ashton gives them a knowing smile.

“We’re gonna go grab some snacks and maybe try out some of the games. Meet back at the entrance to the fairgrounds in an hour?” he coordinates, already starting to walk backwards away from the two of them.

“Sounds like a plan,” Luke answers for them. “Have fun, boys.

Ashton raises his free hand to give a short salute before turning and pulling Michael toward the row of food booths. “So they figured things out then?” Calum says as they watch their friends walk off.

“Apparently.”

Calum laughs quietly and moves to step in front of Luke. He’s not that great at being bold (especially after being terrified for twenty minutes straight) but he figures he could at least give it a shot. “Guess it’s our turn?”

Luke’s gaze pulls away from their friends to meet Calum’s eyes again. “What?”

“Let me buy you a hot chocolate as a thank you for protecting me in there?”

Luke smirks and replies quickly with his own request. “Only if you’ll let me take you out for coffee next week.”

Calum sticks his hand out between the two of them. “Deal.”

They giggle as they shake on it and then start off in the direction that their friends went just a few moments before them. Luke is quick to reach for Calum’s hand and weave their fingers together as he starts a rundown of questions that should feel like small talk but for some reason they don’t. Calum figures it has to do something with the attentive look in Luke’s eyes or the smile pulling across his face as Calum speaks about something as mundane as the calculus exam he took earlier in the night. Though it also again feels like it could be something more, something bigger than that.

But Calum’s mind is a crazy mix of adrenaline from the haunted house and endless thanks to Michael for bringing them out tonight and trying to pick out the perfect way to describe the blue of Luke’s eyes. For now, he decides, it’s enough to squeeze his palm against Luke’s to pull him in the direction of the hot chocolate with sprinkles and worry about the bigger stuff another day.

*

It’s a year later when Calum is sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at his statistics homework like it’s in another language and Luke is laying on the couch scrolling through his phone, his homework already finished. The university was closed that day due to the snow so Luke had decided it wasn’t worth it to go back to his own apartment after reading the email notification that morning.

Calum is too focused on the problems on the page in front of him to hear Luke pad over into the kitchen so he jumps just the slightest bit when he feels a pair of warm arms wrap around his middle. Even on the coldest days Luke is warm like sunshine, Calum has come to know and love in the last year. He lets his pen drop against the counter as he lifts a hand to play with the curls around Luke’s ear when he leans down and lets his chin rest against Calum’s shoulder. “What’s up, love? I’m almost done with this and then we can watch a movie or something while we get dinner going.”

Luke hums in agreement with the plan, his face turning a bit to press a kiss against Calum’s cheek. “I was thinking about date night next week. And I think we should do that haunted house at the fair again.”

Calum sighs and turns his head then. “Luke, I love you but despite the incredibly cute, horror loving boy that guided me through half of that thing, I still really don’t like haunted houses.”

Luke pouts then and huffs out a little sigh. “Fine,” he starts, his arms wrapping a bit tighter around Calum. “We should do something special though. Think anniversaries are supposed to be celebrated, right?”

“We could still go to the fair if you want?” Calum suggests with a shrug. “I’ve always wanted to be kissed at the top of a ferris wheel.”

“I think that could be arranged,” Luke smiles before pressing another quick kiss against Calum’s hair.

Luke stands up straight then, not giving Calum more than a moment to respond to the sweet words, and heads into the kitchen. Calum lifts his arm to rest against the countertop and lets his chin fall into his hand as he watches while Luke starts pulling things out of the fridge to make dinner. (It’s my night to cook, Cal, don’t you dare try getting up.) He decides then that he’ll probably go ahead and buy a couple tickets to the haunted house as a surprise for when they go to the fair the following week. Because if there’s anything Calum has learned in the last year, it’s that nothing can ever feel too scary or unsafe with Luke at his side.

OT4

baby you’re a haunted house (ot4) by me

“I’m working as an actor in a haunted house and when I scared you, you punched me in the nose. Now I’m bleeding and someone had to get me an ice pack, and you won’t stop apologizing. You’re lucky you’re cute” (except i changed the POV), with OT4, ao3 link found here

Muke

Everything is Never as it Seems (When I Fall Asleep) by @mikeycliffords​

“You’re a witch who found me as a stray cat on the streets and took me in. Problem is, I was cursed to be this way, and I’m actually human. When you did a spell wrong, you managed to get me back to my human form. Oops?” Or, one person is cursed to be an animal until they’re taken in by a kind witch. When a spell goes awry, they’re suddenly turned human again, with a lot of explaining to do, with Muke

Cashton

i know i don’t know you (but i’d like to skip the small talk and romance) by @clumsyclifford​

“You’ve come in and ordered a large pumpkin spice latte every day since September. Are you okay?” Or, one person has a PSL addiction (or whatever motive you’d like for them to keep coming in ordering fall-themed coffee and snacks). Their regular barista notices, with Cashton

got a river for a soul, and baby you’re a boat by @glitterblazercalum​

“Oh, fuck. We showed up wearing matching couples’ costumes to this party by accident and now everyone thinks we’re together.” with Cashton

Lashton

the monster mash, it was a graveyard smash by @pixiegrl​

“That’s not a Halloween costume? You actually look like that??” (could be fangs, horns, wings, literally whatever supernatural element you want) Or one person has supernatural aspects and spends Halloween night with the other person. The other doesn’t realize it’s not a costume until they’re gold/the next day/whatever you decide to do, with Lashton. ao3 link found here

To Fall And To Live, To Adore And To Give by @ashtcnirwin​

“Renting a cabin together”, with Lashton. link goes to ao3, not tumblr

Mashton

my only weakness (you know all my secrets) by @allsassnoclass​

“You’ve told me three separate times now you have a vampire kink and I’m starting to wonder if you know I’m a vampire.” Or, pretty explanatory. One person is a vampire. The other has a vampire “kink”. (Can also be them saying they like the aesthetic, or trying to hint that they know and don’t mind. Literally do what you want with it), with Mashton. ao3 link found here

Cake

haunting me forever from the start by @tirednotflirting​

“We’re part of the same group in this haunted house, and you won’t stop clinging to me every time we get spooked.” Or, one person is really clingy with someone else in their group. It’s a good thing they’re cute. They can either know each other or not, with Cake. ao3 link found here

I’m still seeing honey sweet by @kaleidescopeminds (aka meg, who tumblr is currently bullying)