one small step for man... 07.20.69
@wiickedway
The celebrations are up in the air all across the globe, not as high key as pride but still covered with tributes from the news channels and documentaries and articles. Ashton started off with the excitement of a ten year old boy for the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11 with the memories of the wonder and excitement and pride but it lost steam pretty quickly with the memories of lost and pain and watching it on TV when he should've been there helping out. Moon landing day had slowly gone and pass, Morri and Astor both joining him in the celebrations, watching the lunar eclipse earlier that night. But now as dawn was breaking, Ashton sat by the porch, soaking up whatever daybreak of sunlight he could handle before it shoved them back under shelter again. He thumbed the current newspaper, eyes sticking on the one article paying tribute to all the other NASA staff that contributed to the mission, their faces, names and titles filling up the page, Ashton's fitting right along the wall of faces he could still recognise.
Arms slink around him from the back feeling the warmth literally engulf and wrap him up as he rested his head on them returning the affection. "You look hot in black and white," Ashton could hear him from behind and he scoffed, "and at 26. I forgot what I looked like back then." Looking at the picture he took working for NASA, his hair was actually longer, clean shaved, a big beaming smile, a bit more sparkle in his eyes, he hasn't aged physically per say, but the last 50 years had broken him down and rebuilt him up in a completely different way. It's hard to even remember what was he like as a person. He pat the empty space on the step beside him to be able to see Astor, knowing that they bother enjoyed just sitting on these steps to see the sunrise.
He put his focus back on the newspaper article, laying he head on Astor's shoulders, "It's kinda crazy, I knew and remember most of these people. I was supposed to be Mike Collins’ second, you know?" What were they doing now? Were they alive? Maybe they're reading the papers the same way as him, seeing the world celebrate the success once crazy to even fathom. Ashton was honoured to at least have a taste of it. "And I bet they all remember you as well," Astor knew what he was thinking, he always did. "Yeah, as the poor Apollo 11 kid with the tragic accident in Paris." Ashton passed the comment but didn't want to dwell on it too long, knowing how it could swallow him whole if he wasn't careful. "You were around then, what were you doing on moon day?" Astor shrugged, "Huh, I don't know, killing someone, smoking, probably?" He let out that beautiful laugh when Ashton made him a face and elbowed him, "that's just insulting, my life achievement and you're just smoking away." Not that he could say anything better about himself, stripped and broken, beaten to submission, begging to at least watch it on tv.
"Hey, I'm here now," Astor gestured to the present time, leaning back arms outstretched before wrapping one around Ashton's waist. "You better be." Ash warned his love, half teasing half pretty serious about it.
The words hit hard but like the way a hot shower hits hard on bruised skin, it hurts and it soothes with the initial stings that dull into a comfort. Ashton didn't utter back a word but wrapped his own arm around him, putting down the newspaper, not really wanting to see his own face beaming back at him with such blind stupid joy. It wasn't fair that he got the same credit despite dropping dead. It wasn't fair that he got celebrated along with these much more talented and hard working people who saw the mission through, it wasn't fair he didn't get to celebrate with all of them when it finally happened, it wasn’t fair that he was even feeling this way when he has love and family and happiness, it wasn't fair that he couldn't feel as proud as that man beside him did of himself. It wasn't fair.
"I really miss it," the words Astor muttered drew Ashton back to the now, seeing the night seep away with the sunlight slowly spilling into the sky, pink and orange bleed into blue. “Me too.” Ashton whispered as they sat in silence watching the light that kills creep closer in towards them, sooner or later chasing them back behind covers. They’ll sit until the very last second, if they could’ve helped it, they would’ve sat there forever. Ashton could literally see the sunlight paint the grass right in front of them, the comfortingly deadly rays at that moment seemed almost inviting. It wasn’t fair.
Without thinking, Ashton stuck his hand palm up out of the shade and under the harsh sun. It hit hard like the way a hot shower hits hard on bruised skin, it hurts and it soothes, with the initial stings that numb into a comfort. It didn’t last more than a second as his hand gets yanked back into safety, or prison, depends how you look at it. “What the fuck are you doing?” Astor hissed, cradling Ashton’s hand as Ashton finally glanced down to the damage done, the UV quickly burning his palm but getting his fingertips the worst. But yet nothing his body can’t seem to fix on its own anyways, right? “Sorry, I don’t- it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt at all.” He tried to prove his point flexing and clenching his hand but he couldn’t control the shaking, he just wasn’t sure what it was for - the pain or finally getting a taste of the deprivation of the sun. He didn’t know what happened but maybe it was just idiocy of hope that just somehow.. maybe this time if he did it, it wouldn’t hurt. “I.. really miss it too.” Now it just seemed as if daylight was mocking them, mocking him and his foolishness. He quietened down for a moment and then two, before finally letting out the toxic blubber poisoning his thoughts, “it’s not fair.”
Astor didn’t reply with anything, him knowing this just as well as Ashton. He knew everything, every insecurity, every toxic thought, there was nothing to hide nor a need to. He of course, proceeded to stick his own hand out into the sun. “Hey- stop.” They mirrored their actions as Ashton grabbed that arm back in tightly, quicker than he could process it. He simply scowled at his love before looking at his hand, you could almost hear a sizzle if you listen closely. “Now it’s kinda fair,” Astor just stated as a matter of factly, pretty much enjoying the pain, “though you lied about it not hurting.” Ashton shook his head and chuckled at the idiot beside him, lightly blowing at the fresh burn on Astor’s palm, “well, I’ve had worse.” What meant to be a joke perhaps stung more uncomfortably than it should seeing Astor’s face fall. And so he shut up, very much regretting his comeback.
The hand Ashton held pulled back and reached for his own burnt one, already slowly repairing itself. He watched as their tender fingers loosely intertwine, thumbs lighting running over and soothing each other. “No, it’s not fair,” any lightheartedness left Astor’s words, leaving only sincerity, “but no matter how unfair it gets, it’ll always, always be you and me, against this fucked up world.” Ashton shouldn’t have let this get to him, it usually never does nowadays, but today was just.. an exceptionally hard day. He let out a shaky exhale before nodding his head, bringing their knuckles to his lips to press them to it. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this man, but he’ll never question it.
“Or-” Astor started up again, a cheeky smile growing, “you could just let me buy you a spaceship.”
Ashton hear his own laughter once more, “it’s not that easy.” Of course, they’ve have this stupid conversation before. “But it could be!” Astor whined, getting as far as he usually does before getting shut down.
They had maybe 2 more minutes, before they actually had to run back in and so they sat in complete comfort and silence, pulling closer to each other as they watched the sunrise. His thoughts got the better of him today and it’s hard to truly feel the joy and celebrations with the rest of the world when the dust settles, but it’s comforting to know he don’t really need to force himself to. “Thank you.” for being proud of him when he couldn’t be proud of himself.
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
