5 Seconds Of Summer Preferences [Book two]

#8 Taking Care Of Him While He's Drunk

Ashton: Your quiet evening of watching Revenge and eating pizza was abruptly interrupted by loud noises at the door and lots of shushing. You expected this, but not so early. Usually it took Ashton a lot longer to get back from hanging out with Calum, Michael and Luke. But hey, you weren’t complaining. You barely saw him today and you desperately needed to hear his voice and feel his skin touch yours. You swung open the door to see Ashton being supported by 2 familiar faces - Calum and Luke. You groaned, “What did you guys do to him? It’s only 11.” They laughed and helped put him down on the couch. “He got wasted within the first hour of even coming out,” Luke explained. Calum nodded, smirking at a crazy-eyed Ashton rolling around. “We’d totally help out with him but Michael’s in the same situation except a lot worse, I think he might have gone down to ask that guy if he’s a prostitute again.” Luke sighed at Calum’s observation and looked out of the open door and yelled, “Hey! Michael stay there.” You were amused, but equally tired and annoyed. Calum and Luke stood there awkwardly. “You guys can leave, don’t worry. Just come back if you need anything.” They nodded and scurried out, slamming the door shut behind them. “Ughghhhhhg.” You walked over to the couch where Ashton had his hands cupped over his ears and watched him roll his entire 6 ft body onto the floor with a thud. “Owwwww,” he whined. You rushed over and pulled him up; though it was pretty hard considering how much bigger he was then you. “Hello lovely,” he slurred into your ear as he leaned onto your shoulder. You patted his head affectionately and dragged him to the bathroom. “Where we goin’?” He mumbled confused. You placed him on the edge of the bathtub and waited for the sounds of heaving before opening the toilet and pushing his hair out of his face. “Like clockwork,” you muttered. Anytime this happened, which was rarely admittedly, Ashton would have to puke. It was impossible for him to get this wasted and not vomit, and by this point you had just learned to bring him straight to the bathroom. He moaned into the toilet as his regrets of the night came back to haunt him in the water. You stroked his neck and kissed his shoulders lovingly to get his mind off of the unpleasantries of it all. You hated seeing him so sick and uncomfortable. He moaned again as he slumped his body against the side of the sink. You grabbed a towel from beside you and wiped his face. His eyes were drooping heavily now but you made him wait a few more minutes to see if everything had subsided before helping him make his way to your bedroom. You plopped him in the centre and surrounded him with blankets, kissing his forehead affectionately as he dozed off. You made sure to leave a Tylenol and water on the bedside stand and a nice note for him to wake up to. He was lovely, but you still had college papers to write and you had wasted almost all of your time on a TV show. You placed his phone, which you found in the bathroom trashcan god knows why, right beside him in case he needed anything and you couldn’t hear him. Before retreating back to boring law school papers, you stared at his angelic face and the way his lips curled down while he slept and how his curls managed to still look better than yours ever could even after a night of vomit and drinking.

Luke: You watched Luke laugh hysterically into his hands, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh with him until you couldn’t breathe and it hurt to even move. He shakily pushed himself up into a standing position reminiscent of a newborn foal and stumbled over to the marble counter where another bottle of wine sat. He grabbed the top of it and spoke into it, using it to mimic a microphone, announcing his proposal. “I think,” He stuttered, “we should drink this just to wash down everything we ate.” You laughed, booing him. You were pretty hazy yourself but Luke was now verging on black-out drunken territory. “We did that with the last bottle!” He shrugged and popped the cork anyways. You rolled your eyes as he squealed when the champagne spilled all over one of his only dress shirts. The unintentionally-romantic apparel, as well as the layout of candles and pillows strewn across his living room floor, were the celebration of nearly a decade of friendship. You always hung out on this day. It was your “friend anniversary”, which sounds like something only primary scholars would participate in, but that’s when you had met him. Year 3. It was a tradition you had stuck by. You both had also met Calum that year. But Calum wasn’t invited this time - not like he would come anyway. Calum and you decided to date after years of fostering crushes on each other, but essentially fucked everything up when it ended badly through some monstrous fight not many days ago. It was still a mystery to you what exactly had happened but either way, you knew you were mad at him and he was mad at you and instead of doing the adult thing - which you should be capable of at this age - you decided to get wasted and let Luke treat you to a “hey I’m sorry your shitty relationship fucked up everyone’s friendship” date. It was always as lavish as this, even when it was the three of them. Yet it seemed more intimate with Calum gone, however obvious that sounded. You rushed over to Luke’s rescue but slid on the wine-covered tile floor and landed on your ass. “Shit, youuuu o-oka y/n?” You laughed as he hiccupped his way through the sentence and appreciated the wide-doe-eyed look he had in his eyes, as if drunk him was trying really hard to care about your safety right now... You nodded and giggled until he joined in. “I’ve always been fucking clumsy l-like the fountain at that mm the place the malll!” You slapped his ankles from your place on the floor. “I told you to never talk about that!” You whined. He whispered “oops”, plastering that same look on his face. You grinned deviously and pulled at the highest place on his legs you could reach. His legs were probably taller than you standing up, so the most you could get was upper-calf. You yanked and he yelped, grabbing at the counter and wall to save himself, before collapsing into your lap. He laughed but shoved you “d’ya do that for??” You smiled tauntingly. “Whatcha gonnna do about it?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh really, you wan’ go there Y/L/N?” You nodded vigorously. He attempted to grab at your feet but knocked over the forgotten bottle of wine to your left instead, emptying the rest of what hadn’t spilled out before all over the both of you. You screeched. “Shithead! This is a new dress, Calum got it for me he’ll be so pissed that y-” The sentence caught in your throat as you realized what you were saying. You looked down glumly at your hands... Suddenly sitting in a pile of wine wasn’t as fun. He saw your face and gently touched it. “It’s ok Y’N. He doesn’t deserve you anyway.” You smiled. Luke mumbled something incoherent and tried to push himself off of the floor, failing miserably. “W-wait. I’m gonna bring you to the couch l-all romantic and shit.” You laughed. There was no way he was going to get both of you to the couch. You quickly caught him as he fell again and noticed the line of blood dribbling out of his arm. “You moron, how did this even happen?” He was so far gone there was no way he’d know the answer. He mumbled more things as you quickly took your fabric headband off your head and wrapped it around. You ditched your heels and pulled him up. He leaned into your shoulder as you plopped him onto the pile of pillows you had set up for your sleepover. He instantly snuggled into the sheet, eyes fluttering shut. You walked briskly to the bathroom and grabbed antibiotic ointment and brought it over to dab at his cut while he looked at you with his heavy lids. “You-you’re beautiful.” You couldn’t tell if his accent was thicker than normal or it was just the drunken stupor, but the words sounded nice from his mouth. You shook your head, wrapping up his cut with a real bandage, and chuckled softly. “And you’re drunk.” You bopped him on the nose and laid down beside him. Just when you thought he had finally passed out, he grabbed your hand and peered up at you through his lashes. “Yeah. I’m drunk. But you’re beautiful and you’ll still be beautiful when I wake up, just like every day.”