#lashtonwritings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calpops · 4 years

Text

guilt | l.h. & a.i.

In which Ashton must cope with the self imposed guilt of costing his football team a playoff run. And Luke is there to help ease the pain.

Word Count: 1k

***

“It’s over,” Ashton murmured, his voice was low and strained. Guilt consumed him, swallowed him whole like the abandoned locker room.

The season was over. Any prospect of going to the playoffs trampled and broken. Ashton was convinced it was his fault. The last play of the game sitting heavy on his shoulders. Wrapped tight around his ribs and making it difficult to breathe. He knew he was injured, he could feel the splice of pain shooting up his back. But it didn’t matter. Not to him. Not in that moment.

He was transfixed on the fact the ball had fumbled out of his hands, that he hadn’t thrown it away before or kept it close as he was sacked. It happened too quick for him to process, too fast for his body to catch up and do what needed to be done. No one blamed him but himself. The strip sack and scoop and score felt entirely his fault. But the offensive line looked just as guilty; they missed blocks and left him unprotected. If winning was a team effort then so was losing. Except Ashton couldn’t see it that way. All he could see was the replay on the big screen; the way he fell, the awkward twist of his body and his hands dropping the ball before he could be ruled down. The silence of the empty locker room helped bring that moment back to him in full force. With no one around to distract his thoughts and remedy the pain of losing Ashton was succumbing to the self imposed guilt.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbled to no one, again. He leaned forward on the bench, back screaming with sharp pain that he ignored in favor of sitting with his misery; chin in his hands and gaze casted at the floor.

“It’s not,” a familiar voice broke through the gray haze.

Ashton let his eyes look up, thinking twice about moving from his position as the pain settled. His most trusted wide receiver stood in the doorway, uniform already replaced by casual clothes. Luke stepped back into the locker room, blue eyes awash with concern as he took in Ashton’s state. Ashton had only abandoned his helmet thus far; his jersey, padding, pants and cleats still donned his body. Ashton was embarrassed to admit he’d thrown his helmet across the locker room in a moment alone with his frustration. It laid discarded on the tile floor, scuffed as it slid into metal and halted with a haunting crash.

Luke moved toward Ashton, took a seat on the bench next to him and placed a comforting hand on his thigh. Ashton didn’t move to sit up and accommodate Luke, too scared that pain would glint in his eyes and cross his face in a grimace. All he did was put a hand over his; thankful for the offering. Luke was warm and constant. He was the last person Ashton looked to before the linebacker had taken him down. Luke had run his route seamlessly but there was hesitation in Ashton as two cornerbacks settled to double team him. An interception would have been just as bad.

“I didn’t throw it to you,” Ashton said, shaking his head though the ache in his back protested. “I could’ve. You could’ve scored.”

“I was double teamed.”

“You’ve caught it under that pressure before,” Ashton reminded him, to which Luke only gave a comforting squeeze and slid just a bit closer.

“Not with them. They’re the best in the league, Ash. They would’ve picked it or had me down before my feet hit the ground. And you knew that. You made the right choice.”

The gap between them on the bench was minimal as Luke pressed in even closer, just like usual. Whatever bonds they had on the field translated to all that and more off the field. Luke’s hand slid off Ashton’s thigh and out from under his hand, moved towards his lower back and ripped away when Ashton flinched. It took a moment to right himself, to sit up fully and face Luke.

“Fuck,” Ashton groaned, wishing at least one thing would go in his favor that night. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the injury forever; especially not from Luke who would accompany him home. But he wished it wouldn’t have happened so soon. He wanted time to be frustrated and not pitied.

“I knew you were hurt,” Luke accused, switching gears. “You should’ve said something while the trainers were here.”

Ashton waved it off. It was a familiar pain; likely a disc in his back he hoped he could nurse on his own. “I’m fine. The season is over anyway. Doesn’t make a damn difference if I’m hurt or not.”

Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “It does. To me.”

Ashton frowned, realizing what Luke meant. His hiding things from him wasn’t an okay habit to slip into. On the field or off. They needed trust and communication.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Ashton conceded and let Luke help him up. Help him out of his gear and into the clothes in his locker. It took a lot longer than usual, and though Ashton was embarrassed he needed to be babied he let Luke do what needed to be done.

They headed back for the car, walking slow with Luke helping Ashton along. The fans had dispersed as quickly as possible. Home town losses—especially ones where wins would have brought them to the playoffs—usually ended in embarrassed fans getting the hell out of dodge as soon as possible. Ashton was thankful for that, knowing that if fans lingered the walk would have been filled with even more shame.

“We always have next season,” Luke reminded as they approached the car.

“Not if they trade or cut me, no way they keep me after costing them a playoff run,” Ashton said weakly and then bit his tongue when Luke gave him a piercing glare.

“If they don’t keep you, I still will. Not getting rid of me that easy,” Luke said with a wink. Ashton appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood and the sincerity of his words. He knew he’d still have Luke, no matter what.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Ashton promised as he pressed a quick kiss to Luke’s cheek in the dark of the night.

“Good,” Luke said as he helped Ashton into the passenger seat. “Now quit your moping. We have a whole offseason ahead of us. Don’t need guilt eating you while we’re on vacation.”

Ashton laughed, feeling a bit lighter for the first time since dropping the ball. Luke always understood him and what he needed. Sometimes it was a sharp reminder of reality, sometimes it was soft words of understanding and encouragement, and sometimes it was a fierce mixture of both. Whatever it was, Luke was Ashton’s constant in every aspect of life.

***

Tagged: @vapor5sos @sexgodashton @haikucal @5sosnsfw @thesubtweeter @megz1985

#lashton #lashton blurb #lashton imagine #lashton fic #lashton au #athlete!au #football!ash #football!luke #football!lashton #lashtonwritings

103 notes · View notes