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Andrea, Ashton. Ashton, Luke.

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15th August, 2014  

Luke picked at his food. It wass the chef’s special-butter chicken lasagna, but he was just not hungry. His stomach was knotted in a tight ball of anxiety.

"Damn it! Luke, will you tell me, what's wrong?" Ashton pushed his empty plate away, irritated. Luke gazed at him. "Please, Lucas. You're driving me crazy."

The younger boy swallowed and tried to subdue the panic rising in his throat. He took a deep steadying breath. It was now or never. "I'm pregnant."

Ashton stills, and very slowly all the color drains from his face. "What?" he whispers, ashen.

"I'm pregnant." Luke repeated, voice cracking towards the end.

His brow furrows with incomprehension. "How?"

Luke blinked at him. How . . . how? What sort of ridiculous question is that? Luke blushed, and give Ashton a quizzical how-do-you-think look. The Alpha’s stance changed immediately, his eyes hardening to flint.

"Your shot?" he snarls.

Oh shit.

"Did you forget your shot?"

Luke just gazed at him unable to speak. Jeez, he's mad - really mad.

"Christ, Luke!" He bangs his fist on the table, making him jump, and stood so abruptly he almost knocked the dining chair over. "You have one thing, one fucking thing to remember. Shit! I don't fucking believe it. How could you be so stupid?"

Stupid! Luke gasped. Shit. He wanted to tell his Alpha that the shot was ineffective, but words failed him. He gazed down at his fingers. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry? Fuck!" he says again.

"I know the timing's not very good."

"Not very good!" he shouts. "We've known each other five fucking minutes. I wanted to show you the fucking world and now . . . Fuck. Diapers and vomit and shit!" He closed his eyes trying hard to contain his temper and losing the battle.

"Did you forget? Tell me. Or did you do this on purpose?" His eyes blazed and anger emanates off of him like a force field.

"No," Luke whispered. Luke cannot tell him about Calum-how he forgot to remind the omega about the shots the previous week and the week before when Luke had asked him to, or about their physio. He’d get him fired.

"I thought we'd agreed on this! You knew this was not happening until the fucking contract expired. We have fucking released us first fucking album, and we are at the peak of our fucking careers, and you…you end up with this!” he shouted.

"I know. We had. I'm so fucking sorry."

He ignored Luke. "This is why. This is why I like control. So things like this don't come along and you don’t fuck everything up."

Oh, Ashton, our baby is not a thing."Ashton, please don't shout at me." Tears started to roll down Luke’s cheeks.

"Don't start with waterworks now," he snapped. "Fuck." He ran a hand through his messy curls, pulling at it as he does. "You think I'm ready to be a father?" His voice caught, and it's a mixture of rage and panic. And it all became clear, the fear and loathing writhed large in his eyes - his rage was that of a powerless adolescent. Damn it, Ash, I am so sorry. It's a shock for me, too.

"I know neither one of us is ready for this, but I think you'll make a wonderful father," Luke choked. "We'll figure it out."

"How the fuck can you be so sure!" he shouted, even louder this time. "Tell me how!" His hazel eyes burned, and so many emotions cross his face-fear was the most prominent.

"Oh, fuck this!" Ashton bellowed dismissively and held his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He turned on his heel and stalked toward the foyer, grabbing his leather jacket as he left the living room of their shared apartment. His footsteps echoed off the wooden floor, and he disappeared through the double doors into the foyer, slamming the door behind him and making Luke jump once more.

All Luke was left with is the silence - the still, silent emptiness of the great room. He shuddered involuntarily as he gazed numbly at the closed doors. Ashton walked out on him. Shit! His reaction was far worse than Luke could ever have imagined. Luke pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the table, letting his head sink into them while he wept.