If These Sheets Were States (Lashton Christmas Oneshot)

If these sheets were the states

And you were miles away

I'd fold them end over end

To bring you closer to me

Because I don't sleep at all

Without you pressed up against me

I settle for long-distance calls, I'm

Lost in empty pillow-talk again.

~All Time Low, "If These Sheets Were States"

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Dear Ashton,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. I’ve been pretty busy, but that’s no excuse. I’m doing okay. I twisted my ankle the other day, but it’s doing okay and it barely hurts anymore. The reunion was nice enough, but I wish you’d have come with me. I don’t even care if they would have looked at us funny. It was boring without you. And you’re my boyfriend; that means you’re family, right?

My grandparents send their love to you. Some of the guests found out that I’m gay and when they commented on it, my grandmother just gushed over how great you were, how you’re the perfect grandson and it was just too bad you couldn’t come.

I know it’s been a while, but I’ll be home soon. We can cuddle and eat and sleep and watch The Year Without Santa Claus, and it’ll all be fine. We can make snow angels and when we’re all soaked and freezing we can go in and drink hot chocolate, just like we used to, and everything will be just fine.

Please don’t worry. I love you, and I’ll be home soon.

I promise I’ll be home for Christmas.

Much love,

Lukey xox

Ashton folds up the letter and sighs. Michael looks over from the kitchen; he came over to keep Ashton company. Michael’s in the middle of raiding the fridge, which is practically empty because he and Luke always go grocery shopping together and in the two months Luke’s been gone, he’s only been once and it was so lonely he didn’t go back.

“Why the long face?” Michael asks, coming over to put his arms around his best friend.

“He’s taking so long to get home,” Ashton huffs into Michael’s shoulder.

“Give him a little time, yeah?” Michael says, patting Ashton’s back. “You know how homesick he was. He’s only been gone a month.”

And it’s been the longest month of Ashton’s life. “I know,” he says. “I miss him, you know? He promised to be home for Christmas. There’s only a week left.”

“He’ll be home,” Michael says reassuringly. “He sends these letters by express mail, just to make sure you get them as fast as possible. I’m sure it’s killing him to be away from you for so long.”

“It’s not the same without him,” Ashton says, snuggling against Michael’s chest. “Christmas, I mean. I haven’t even gotten a Christmas tree yet. That was our thing. I put up the lights, but it’s different without him.”

“Just sit tight,” Michael says, rubbing a shoulder. “He’ll be here soon. Just wait.”

---

Luke stops running and almost screams in frustration when he sees the board.

Flight to Boston delayed.

No. This isn’t fair. He promised to be home for the holidays. He was going to be there just five days before Christmas, tomorrow, in time to maybe get a Christmas tree if Ashton hadn’t done it already, in time to watch cheesy Christmas movies, in time to accidentally-on-purpose step under the mistletoe and thus provide an excuse to kiss Ashton.