Chapter 1: Chai Lattes
Chapter Text
Ashton’s morning tea and cake is disturbed by a small cough, causing him to look up. There’s a girl, brown hair and pale skin and green eyes, and she’s holding a chai latte. “Excuse me, mister, can I sit here, there’s just nowhere else and...”
“No need to explain miss, I don’t mind” and the girl sits down opposite Ashton, taking small sips from her coffee. Ashton expects her to know who he is, but it doesn’t matter, it’s nice to meet a girl who’s not squealing every so often. “Ashton Irwin” Ashton says, holding out his hand. She looks at him for a moment, and taking his hand with a sharp intake of air.
“Claire Peters.”
And they finish their drinks, and keep talking afterwards until Luke storms into the café, shaking his head at Ashton.
“Ash, we’re gonna be late!” he exclaims, grabbing Ashton’s shoulders and banging on the table, causing Claire to flinch. Ashton just has the time to write down his number and slip it to her as Luke pulls him away.
Chapter 2: I Searched You Up, Mr Famous
Summary:
So, pretty much, Claire and Ash meet again, and Ashton's fucking dirty mind is getting in the way
Chapter Text
1 new message from unknown.
Unknown: hey, it’s Claire
You: oh, hi
Unknown: wanna hang out
You: sure
Unknown: I searched u up, mr famous
You: very funny my place
Unknown: sure
You: 142 Dickson Rd, London
Unknown: obvs it’s in London, god ash
You: c u
Ashton begins by picking up his clothes, not folding them, just chucking them aside. Total eyesore. He sniffs the air, practically gagging at nearly a year’s worth of BO, gas, and masturbation. Running into Luke’s room, he picks up a bottle of cologne off the shelf, one of those ones that reminds him of aftershave. He actually wouldn’t be surprised if it is aftershave. It’s Luke’s thing anyway, although he basically never gets the time to shave since he’s always out with Arzaylea. Ashton’s actually kinda jealous he doesn’t get the chance to share his experiences with someone like that. But tonight he’ll get to hang out with Claire, which is nice. But their just friends. He wishes they were more, the girl’s bloody gorgeous, but they’re not. Ashton looks back over at that eyesore of a clothes mound, shakes his head, bends down and he begins folding. Yes, folding.
Ashton looks over his clean room, amazed at the result, because he hasn’t cleaned it since they moved in. The novelty wears off extremely quickly and he picks at the little string hanging off the hem of his new, white band shirt. He got it for eight dollars at an obviously overpriced thrift shop, but really, he can’t complain. It could’ve been worse. He might’ve had to catch a taxi to town and buy the shirt for three, maybe four, times the price, instead of just walking around the corner.
The door opens slowly, revealing Calum, who looks like he just won the fucking lottery. If Ashton won the lottery he wouldn’t have to shop at fucking thrift shops.
“What’s got you so…?” Ashton asks him.
“Why’d you clean your room? You never clean your room?”
“I have a friend coming over tonight for movies.”
“What?”
“Friend. Tonight. Movies” Ashton exclaims.
“Can’t you go to their place? I’m kind of spending some time with someone tonight?” Calum pleads.
“Nice Cal. Who is she?”
“It isn’t like… a girl” Calum stutters.
“Ohhh. So, who’s the lucky guy then?”
“Michael…”
“Oh shit, that was unexpected.”
“He’s just the first guy I’ve felt this way about, and, I don’t know…”
“Oh, okay” Ashton says as Calum walks out. Now, he wants to pour gasoline all over himself, set himself alight and smash his head into a brick wall. He just cleaned his room. For no reason. He is seriously contemplating strangling the Maori band mate right now. He picks up the nearest jumper and slides it on, because that whole time he felt naked and cold and he didn’t really want to walk down the street like that. The jumper smells rank and he wouldn’t be surprised if he used it to clean up cum and there’s a huge stain he hasn’t noticed yet.
Ashton hears the knock at the door and is practically falling over his feet to answer it, but he misses the chance because Luke and Arzaylea are over and they’ve answered it for him.
“Alright” Luke yells down the hall “who was it, who leaked the address?”
“Chill Luke, it’s just Claire” Ashton smiles, rushing forward.
Luke questions him, “Claire?”
“A friend” Ashton sighs, turning to Claire, “I know it’s short notice but can we go to your place, Calum’s got someone over tonight.”
“Nice. Who is she?” Luke smirks, interrupting.
“Not a girl…”
“Um, Ash, I don’t really think that’s a good idea” Claire murmurs, about Ashton’s plan to go to her place.
“Pardon Claire?”
“Can’t we like, just be outside, or something?”
“Why can’t we go to your house?”
“Yeah, why?” Luke whines, mimicking Ashton, making Arzaylea and Claire snort. Because, as much as girls don’t like it, snorting is adorable. And no, snorting cocaine, on the other hand, is not adorable.
Although, thinking about Michael and Calum, Calum probably has, and knowing Michael, he’ll think it’s adorable. Gross.
Claire swallows hard.
Fuck, Ashton thinks as he imagines her taking his load down her throat.
Just fucking friends.
That’s right, fucking, she probably wants me.
No. No. No. Filthy, dirty, thought process.
Chapter 3: Please Don't Hit Me
Summary:
So another short ass chapter, but I promise, there will be longer ones. In this one they've made it to claire's house and Ashton's dirty mind gets him in trouble.
Chapter Text
“Do you, like, like guys, or girls?” Claire murmurs.
Ashton smiles, “Girls. You?”
“Guys” Claire smiles. She fucking smiled.
Now that the whole… preference… thing is over, Ashton’s dirty mind comes back into it.
I could grope her boob.
Push her down.
I bet she would sound great moaning, screaming my name.
Fuck her into the couch.
No. No. No. Friends.
Ashton leans over, placing a hand on Claire’s thigh, pinning it down, and the other on her boob as he presses against her plump lips. She pushes him back, inhaling deeply as Ashton grabs her wrist. Claire rips away.
“Get out” she stammers.
Inside her head she’s begging to Ashton. Please don’t hit me.
“What? Why?” Ashton asks. Stupid. He knows. He’s a fucking asshole.
“Please don’t hit me” Claire’s voice cracks, catching in her throat.
“Wait, what the?!”
“Get out!” Claire screams.
