Legally Blonde | Lashton AU

8 ; gay or european?

to apologize for my absence here is the longest goddamn chapter ive written yet

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Luke was comfortably settled in one of the blue, worn armchairs of the pleasantly run-down Hair Affair. At this point, the salon was already a familiar sight to Luke— he visited a lot. Since Ashton didn't let Luke keep anything that wasn't necessary in his room, Luke often went to Michael for beauty care. Besides, the company was good. Michael was hilarious. Luke appreciated that, since Ashton had some kind of stick up his butt sometimes.

As of this particular moment, Luke didn't actually feel like talking to the sandy-blonde anyway. No, it did not have anything to do with the weird-ass dream he had last night.

...Okay. Maybe it did.

God knows why he'd have a... wet dream, now of all times— he was about to go to court, for god's sake. And about Ashton, too. Ashton. Of all people. That was just... no. Ashton would never want Luke like that. Having dreams like that wasn't very favorable for Luke— he needed to keep his feelings platonic and that dream was not helping. He felt so many things around the senior; there were butterflies in his stomach and the sun in his chest, shining and burning and bright. Then there was the moon in his thoughts, pale and comforting and serene. Ashton was like Luke's sky; he was so celestial, so beautiful, so ethereal. Sometimes, he thought Ashton felt all those and a little more, too.

But he couldn't think like that.

He knew that if he got his hopes up, he'd only get hurt in the end. Ashton only saw him platonically, as a friend. That's the way it should be. They've only known each other for a few months, anyway. Right? And Luke just got out of a relationship. Maybe it hurt a little, but Luke could get over it. He had to. But if he saw Ashton now, that wouldn't help him one bit. Especially since Ashton was all dressed up, now, with designer shoes and slicked back hair. If Luke saw him at all his panties would probably drop and he'd have serious premature ventricular contractions— not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

It'd be unbearable to even look at Ashton after that dream. Luke would probably turn into a red, stuttering mess. With a boner. (Luke knew he'd be more than that, though. He'd probably cry instead of grow a boner. He just— he felt so many things, and before that dream he would just avoid it, push it to the side like a teenager's unwanted homework. He didn't want to think about it. But that dream laid it all bare for him— quite literally, at that. The dream told him what he'd been denying himself for weeks, and he didn't like it one bit.)

To avoid embarrassing himself, he decided that he'd just put off looking at the senior until he couldn't.

(...Maybe running from your problems wasn't the best idea. Okay. Fine. It really wasn't. But Luke was nervous; sue him.)

Right now, Michael was finishing up Luke's manicure— a plain, simple coat of lawyerly pink. Though it was simple, the younger blonde adored the manicure—really. He loved every manicure that Michael gave. At first, he thought the older blonde could only do hair, but Luke soon discovered that Michael was fairly multi-talented. He could do hair, makeup, nails—you name it, Michael could probably do it. What's more was that Michael didn't even charge him that much; Luke still wasn't sure how to feel about that. He didn't like the idea of getting good service for a bad price, so he always hid extra money in the cushions or under Ketchup when he left.