for the art of war (lashton)

12. whatever you want it to be

"Do you wanna hear another joke?" Calum asked, with a tad more enthusiasm in his voice than there should've been on a Monday morning. 

"No, not really," Luke said, but that did nothing to stop Calum and Michael from telling the rest of the joke. The three of them were seated in the back left corner of their math class on an unsurprisingly slow day. The professor scrolled through something on his computer while the class waited for instructions. 

"What did the taco say when it was sad?" Calum had a cheesy grin on his face and he was already cracking up despite the fact that he hadn't even gotten to the punch line. Michael leaned over, giggling, and quietly asked Calum if he could finish the joke, receiving a shaky nod from him.

"'I don't wanna taco 'bout it'," Michael finished. The two of them burst into a fit of laughter, clutching the edges of their desks and high-fiving each other as they earned annoyed stares from other students. Luke felt the other eyes in the room looking over at them and he buried his face in his hands.

"That wasn't funny," Luke muttered quietly. 

"Yes it was," Michael protested, still trying to regain himself. "It was great, and you could've been a part of it." Michael had dyed his hair yet again over the weekend, this time heading for a more blackish-purple look. Luke thought it definitely made him look more punk, if that was what he was going for. 

"We have more jokes," Calum grinned.

"Why do you guys have so many jokes?" 

"I dug up this joke book from behind my dresser and I called Calum," Michael explained. "We tried to connect you to the call but you weren't answering. Which sucks, because it was amazing." 

"What do you mean?" Luke asked.

"Seven o'clock last night?" Calum offered. "We called you three times and then we gave up."

Luke's heart rate sped suddenly because he knew exactly why he didn't answer. The memories of last night came flooding into his mind— the brushing of his lips with Ashton's, the feeling of having Ashton close to him. Luke tried his hardest to keep the bored expression he'd had on his face earlier, but knew he was failing, judging by the amused expression that had quickly taken over Calum.

Luke thought it was pretty ironic that he was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn last night when he and Ashton were pressed up together. That meant his clothes probably had Ashton's sweat on it, and, if anything, that only made Luke more jittery. 

Luke and Ashton had woken up this morning on top of each other, still lying on the couch. Ashton had quickly whipped up some breakfast (he'd actually just pulled a box of cereal out of one of the cupboards) and Luke hadn't had enough time to make it back to his apartment for a fresh pair of clothes.

"Why didn't you answer?" Calum asked.

"I don't know," Luke said, trying his best to sound casual, but Calum and Michael had both quieted down and were staring at Luke like a pack of hungry wolves, waiting for more.

"You look like you got laid," Michael commented. There was silence. "Did you get laid?" 

"No," Luke hissed. "God, no."

"Okay, but something happened," Calum insisted. "Was it... a girl?" 

"No."

"A boy?" Michael threw in. 

"No," Luke lied. "I was probably just taking a shower."

"We all know that's not true," Calum said.