Definition [ot4]

five

((There's so many good asexual jokes I CANT STOP))

"Where are we going to be in like, three days?"

Calum flicks the calendar hanging next to his head. "New York. We've got a hotel for that night, I think."

Michael hums in response.

Three days later, Calum's sitting in Ashton's hotel room bed, when there's a knock on the door. Ashton rolls to his feet and trots over to answer it, coming back with an envelope in his hands. He reads the front over with furrowed eyebrows, then looks up at Calum in confusion.

"Why did Michael send me a letter?" He asks. Calum shrugs, so he turns it around and rips it open. He reads it over, then rolls his eyes and smiles slightly. "This is a formal statement, meant to inform you that I am officially demiromantic pansexual. Sincerely, Michael Clifford." He reads out.

Calum snorts out a laugh. "Oh my god,"

°°°°

"Did you guys know that only one percent of the population is asexual?"

Ashton glances up from his bowl of cereal and stares at Luke thrilled expression blankly. "Yes," he responds dully.

Its quiet again, Michael's foot twitches where its hooked around Calum's ankle under the table.

Luke glances at both of them nervously, then goes back to smiling. He nudges Ashton with his elbow. "Did you know the asexual flag is purple, white, grey, and black?"

Ashton drops his spoon and shoves away from the table, leaving his bowl of cereal and stalking back towards the bunks. Luke frowns and sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"You tried, Lukey," Michael amends. "He's just stubborn, he'll come around."

Luke stares at the forgotten bowl sadly, like Ashton's died and that's all that's left of him.

"Yeah, he'll come around," Calum agrees. He untangles his ankle from Michael's and his removes his hand from Michael's, forcing a whine and pout from him. "I'm just going to go check on him, I'll be right back."

"Tell him I'm sorry," Luke mumbles, like he hasn't said it himself a million and ten times. Calum nods though and wanders back to the bunks, sliding the thin door shut behind him. Three of the curtains are slung wide open, while the other is shut tightly to block any light from getting into the bed. Calum raps his knuckles on the wooden frame that separates his bed from Ashton's.

"Fuck off," Ashton huffs, voice small and muffled.

"It's me," Calum says. There's a short pause, and then the curtain flings back to reveal Ashton, wrapped in his heavy duvet, hair laying flat against his pillow like a tiny lion's mane. He mutters something angrily and starts shifting until his back hits the wall and Calum has plenty of room to crawl inside the little bunk.

He lays in front of Ashton on his back and closes the curtain behind him. Like Michael and Luke won't find them.

"What do you want, Cal?" Ashton asks softly.

"To talk, maybe cuddle a little," Calum shrugs and rolls over so he's face to face with Ashton. Their noses brush slightly, making Ashton jerk his head away, accidentally slamming it into the wall behind him. Calum frowns and reaches forward to make sure he's okay, only to receive a panicked look from Ashton.

"You're having a no cuddle day, huh?" He asks carefully, rolling over onto his back again. Ashton gets into moods sometimes, where the slightest touch makes him cringe. Those days usually include him laying in Calum's bed, making sure to keep space between them, and scrolling through his phone or napping. Its hard when they're touring though, because he can't just hide out in Calum's duvet all day. Calum tries to protect him from people brushing against him or casually touching him, but it usually just ends in a small panic attack and a few tears.