5 Seconds of Summer BoyXBoy one-shots

His Favorite Christmas Story // Lashton

~ I said I'd try, I'd never said it'd actually work out

So today is a pretty...special day to me, I guess. Today is my cousin's birthday and she should have turned eighteen today, if she hadn't died seven years ago, and I just...it's hard for me because for years I felt like I should have been the one who died, even though I didn't have anything to do with what happened. She was my only girl cousin and the one closest to me in age, with only eight months between us, and I guess I just want to say, even though I know you won't read this, that I haven't forgotten about you Natalie, and I love you and I still think about you. Sleep tight, I'll see you soon xx 

Dedicated to my sunshine Chloe because you're like one of few people I can talk to about anything and still be comfortable with, like it doesn't get awkward, not to mention that your stories are FREAKING AMAZING and yeah, I love you a lot sunshine xx /M~ 

“Sir?” Ashton looks up from his almost empty plate, smiling when he sees the waitress standing in front of him. She had a bow in her long, black hair and her eyes were gleaming. He didn’t even have to ask, he knew her favourite time of the year were now. “Can I get you anything else?” Ashton shook his head. He planned on finishing his meal as quickly as possible and be on his way, feeling pretty bad since he’s the only person in the diner, except for the waitress and the chef in the back, and it’s late on Christmas eve and he’s sure they’d rather close up and go home.

“It’s all good.” he says, smiling.

“Are you sure, I can get you some more coffee.” he agrees, sensing her eagerness to do something, and she leaves, returning a few moments later with a new cup of coffee. She places it on the table and he thanks her. “Sir, would you mind if I sat down?” he holds his hand out, inviting her to take a seat in the booth and she does, straightening her blouse and adjusting her bow. “I was wondering sir, if you could shed a little holiday cheer. A simple Christmas story, it doesn’t have to be anything big or exciting.” and who would he be to turn her down, such a polite girl who called him sir even though he can’t be more than five years older than her. And he smiles again.

“Alright, here’s my favourite Christmas story about a boy with no name.”

~

~ Somewhere, 1937~

Ashton’s standing alone by the bar, watching the people dancing. He doesn’t know anyone, he just followed people and somehow ended up here, in some kind of a barn. It’s getting late and the excitement is hanging over their heads, everyone looking forward to when the clock will strike midnight. Ashton’s excited too, but only because everyone else’s excited too.

“you should go for it mate.” the voice makes him jump and he turns his head, his eyes meeting a green pair.

“What?”

“go for it. You’ve been staring at him all night, take the chance.” the bartender smiles and nods towards the dancefloor. Ashton follows his gaze and blushes, realising he’s been a lot more obvious than he thought. The boy he’s been watching is wearing a red dress shirt and black pants, and he’s laughing while he’s dancing with a girl who must be his sister. A few minutes ago she tied a red band to his hair, probably to match his shirt, and it made him, if possible, even more beautiful. Every now and then their eyes would meet and the boy would look away, blushing. “he’d say yes, you know.” the bartender tells Ashton. “he’s one of two openly gay guys here, me being the other one.” Ashton nods and the bartender leaves, going to give someone another beer.

Finally, when it’s a quarter to eleven, he gains the courage to walk over to the boy and aks him to dance. He blushed like mad and his sister giggled, but he said yes and the carolers sang as they danced through the night. Sadly, they never talked much and at the end of the night he realised he hadn’t asked for the boy’s name.

~

“He was a small town boy and I’m a traveling guy, I never saw him again but I swear it was love at first sight.” it became a tradition for him, to travel around and every holiday season he’d tell the locals about his Christmas dance partner that he never knew well. He’d share his favorite Christmas story and he was soon known as the Christmas story telling travelin man.

By the age of 53 he had decided to stop traveling and he settled down in a small town, not very different from the one where he’d met the boy his story was about. He didn’t have much, just a small house at the end of a street with much bigger houses, but he was popular and well liked and the neighborhood kids liked to gather around just to listen to his stories about his life on the road. They loved to hear him tell them about all the people he’d met, about the things he had seen. Every Christmas eve they’d show up before dark and he’d tell them the story about the boy with no name. They could quote it word by word because he always told it the same, but they always showed up. It was their tradition, and it just wouldn’t be the same without the story told by the Christmas story telling travelin man. And so they’d sit on the floor in his livingroom with a fire burning in the fireplace, and he’d sit in his chair and he’d tell them.

“I met him in a small town back in 1937…”

~

Twenty years later and he’s laying on a hospital bed. It’s a cold Christmas morning and he has nobody left, all the children have grown up, except for the male nurse holding his hand. It was with one of his last breaths that he turned his head and asked the man.

“Sir could you share a little holiday cheer.” He asked. “A simple Christmas story is all I want to hear.” but his eyes filled with tears when the man spoke, because his favorite Christmas story was the one that he told.

“I met him in a small town back in 1937, though I never caught his name he was a traveling man. December 24th it at a quarter to eleven, I’m so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance…”