Happy Halloween everyone! This is the halloween event fic for the collab discord!
I chose the prompt of “Person A sells their soul to Person B, a crossroads demon,” for Mashton.
Word Count: 4.6k
Pairing: Demon Michael x Ashton
Description: So I made this an alternate timeline. 5SOS is still 5SOS, but, they don’t really take off until after Ashton is already 18, and Ashton joins the band much earlier than Michael does, for the sake of the prompt and my plans.
Warnings: Demons, mentions of death
Event Masterlist My Masterlist Buy Me a Ko-Fi
Ashton took a deep breath, giving the book and bag of supplies sitting in his passenger seat an anxious glance. He’d bought the spell book from a local used bookstore months ago, assuring his two friends that it was just as a joke. This week however, curiosity and desperation took over, leading him to dig through his closet until he found the note-laden spell book, still in the bag it was placed in the day it was purchased.
He steeled himself, grabbing the book and bag and turning off his car, climbing out and taking sure steps towards the intersection of the streets. He grabbed chalk from the plastic bag, trying not to look too long at the other ingredients for the summoning. He set the book next to him on the ground, shivering as it fell open to the exact page he needed. “Okay Ash,” he breathed, “get yourself together and let’s do it, for the boys. Six guitarists in six months is fucking ridiculous.”
He dug in the cloth bag for the box of chalk, taking a piece out and walking to the center of the intersection. He kneeled on the pavement, focusing on the crossroads he was at mentally as he drew out the symbol illustrated in the spell book. He knew that Luke, Calum and himself had a great fit for their band, the only thing they were lacking in their balance was the right guitarist. He had a feeling that if they didn’t find another guitarist soon, and if this seventh guitarist wasn’t the missing piece they’d been searching for, the two younger boys may lose hope and give up. He maintained focus on his goal as he meticulously followed the instructions laid out in the book.
Everything completed he took a step back, eyes closed as he focused on what he needed. When he opened his eyes again, there was a cloaked figure in front of him, orange glowing eyes showing from beneath a hood. Ashton stood his ground, even with the lit candles flickering out, staring the orange eyes down as he waited for the crossroads demon to speak. Ashton thought he could make out a smirk on the demon’s lips as he sized up the eighteen year old in front of him.
“Was this just some dare from your friends or do you actually need me for something, kid?” The demon’s voice was low, almost bored.
Ashton squared his shoulders, standing up straighter and sticking his chin out, pushing down even the slightest bit of fear. “I truly believe my band has a good chance of making it in our field, we just are failing desperately at finding the right guitarist.”
The demon blinked, “You’re willing to sell your soul to a demon...for a guitarist. Not the success of the band, just the guitarist.”
Ashton nodded, sighing, “We’ve been through six guitarists in as many months. I’m here for the perfect guitarist for our band. The success will follow from that.”
“Are you sure about that?” the demon asked, fingers fiddling with the large sleeves of the cloak. “This is really what you want to sell your soul for, no little extra guarantee that it will actually work out on top of this guitarist?”
Ashton looked at the ground, silent for a moment, before looking up into the glowing eyes through his fringe, “It really is. I think my bandmates may give up if this next guitarist doesn’t work out, and I don’t want that to happen. Besides, if it had been one of their ideas, I would’ve made sure I was the one to do it. They don’t deserve that.”
“And you do?” The demon retorted, though his voice took on a concerned note.
Ashton paused, eyebrows pulling together before shaking his head. He reached his hand across the sigil he’d drawn in the road, “Do we have a deal?”
The demon took in Ashton’s unwavering position, his refusal to back down, convinced that this was the measure he had to take for his friends. “Deal.” The demon responded, grasping Ashton’s hand in his own. “Guitarist lucky number seven will be at your next rehearsal,” he stated before turning around and getting ready to disappear back into the darkness, “Can’t wait to see how this one turns out.” He muttered to himself.
Ashton gathered what remained of his ingredients, taking them to the car and grabbing his thermos full of water, rinsing the chalk off of the roadway before finally getting back in his car and going home.
~~~~~
Two days later Ashton was setting up his drum kit in Luke’s house. He was anxiously tightening a wing nut to a cymbal when the doorbell rang. Luke frowned, putting his guitar down and going to answer the door. Ashton could hear Luke talking to someone and hummed, continuing his set up. Soon Luke returned, another boy following behind him. “This is Michael,” the blonde started, getting both Ashton and Calum’s attention. “He told me that he heard from a friend that we were looking for another guitarist?”
Luke’s blue eyes were questioning, wondering if his other two bandmates had spoken to anyone about the recent opening. Calum looked just as confused as Luke and Ashton whirred through some excuse he could make up. “I uh, may have mentioned it to one of the people at the barbecue I went to after practice the other night. Didn’t think they’d actually know someone looking for a band though, guess I was wrong.”
Luke simply shrugged and nodded, turning back to Michael, still hanging behind him. Ashton caught the guitarist’s eye and...did he just wink at him? No, he had to have imagined it. Michael’s brown hair fell in his face and he crouched on the floor, pulling his guitar out of the case and tuning it, knowing that the band would need to hear him play before anything was decided.
Ashton finished setting up his kit and took a seat in front of the Hemmings’ Christmas tree. Calum was on one side of him, fidgeting with the shoulders of his tank top, Luke on the other looking at Michael. He’d pulled his guitar strap over his shoulder, guitar hanging on his back as he fidgeted with the strands of his hair before stepping up to Calum’s keyboard. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves before he started playing the opening notes to Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold. He swung his guitar around and began to play. He leaned into the microphone and began singing the lyrics as well and Ashton thought he caught another furtive glance and a smirk from him.
Luke got to his feet halfway through the song, stopping Michael. “Dude, if you can get along with the three of us as well as you can play guitar, I’d say you’re in. What do you guys think?”
Calum spoke up from his spot, “Yeah, hang out with us some after practice today and same at the next and if we’re all getting along, I’d say it’s going to work out.”
Ashton simply nodded his agreement with the other two boys and got to his feet, going to settle behind his drum set, ready to start practice. Michael was beaming as he moved to the other side of the living room stage, looking at the tabs Luke was showing him for one of the original songs that he wanted to work on today.
~~~~~~~
Michael blended into the group with ease, Ashton and Calum welcoming him in before the first rehearsal with the new guitarist was even over. Ashton brushed off his apprehension about the looks that Michael had been giving him, he was a nice guy and there was no way he could know about the deal the drummer had made. By his third rehearsal, Michael had come up with a name for the group, the other three boys having been struggling with that for a long time, especially with the more pressing issue of keeping a guitarist on the forefront of their minds.
Soon, 5 Seconds of Summer were posting more videos to Luke’s youtube channel and playing more local shows. With Michael fitting in so well with the group they were now working harder than ever before. After a few months, they finally got a call from a label. They worked out the details with their parents and began touring around the country, and then across the world.
The years went on and the band’s success continued to grow, multiple albums debuting at number 1 and playing larger and larger venues. During one tour Ashton dyed his hair black, posting a picture in front of a window, captioning it “feeling like a demon again.” Michael was in another room, and he let out a low chuckle when he read the caption, double tapping the photo and carrying on.
It was coming up on ten years since Michael joined the band, ten years since Ashton made a deal with the crossroads demon. He wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate his 28th birthday when it came along, knowing in five months, he would no longer be himself, if he was even still here. They finished recording their sixth album and Ashton went back to Australia for a month, spending time with his family. When he got back to LA in mid-September he began pulling away from his friends, only responding to band related texts immediately, sometimes taking three days to reply to even Calum when he tried to check in. He tried to say that he was working on a second solo album during the lull before they had to start promoting the new record, but he knew that would only hold them off for so long.
By October Ashton’s nightmares of the orange-eyed demon he’d been having from time to time since they met were now nightly. The first week of November he just gave up on sleeping entirely, throat raw from waking up screaming as the cloaked demon dragged him out of bed and down through his bedroom floor into darkness.
At the end of the week without sleep, Ashton once again found himself spending the whole day sitting on his couch, staring intently at a blank page of his journal. The room grew dark around him as the sun sank in the sky. The last few golden rays travelled through the windows when he recognized the sound of Michael knocking on his door. Before he could get up or even respond to the sound, the door opened, Michael walking straight in. Ashton wearily raised his head, looking at his friend standing in the doorway to the living room. “You look soulless.” Michael said, “Trust me, I would know.”
Ashton shook his head, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning his head on his hands. “What do you need Mike?”
“I know why you’ve been avoiding us, pushing everyone away.”
Ashton let out a dark chuckle. “Sure. Take a guess.” He muttered, keeping his head down.
Michael stepped further into the room, boot stomping on the hardwood. “Ashton. Look at me.”
There was something different to Michael’s voice, and Ashton found himself unable to disobey. He sat up, turning to look at the blonde and gasped. The same glowing orange eyes that had been haunting his nightmares were staring straight at him, coming from Michael’s face. Ashton scrambled backwards until his back was against the far arm of the sofa, the guitar that had been next to him dropping to the floor. Michael frowned, stepping forward, picking up the instrument from the ground, checking it and carefully beginning to tune it again while Ashton searched for words.
“Y-you!” He choked out, “Get out of Michael!”
The demon sighed, eyes fading back to green as he fiddled with the guitar. He snapped his fingers, turning on some lamps. “Ashton,” he said, voice soft, “I’ve been Michael the whole time, from before you came forth to make the deal to now.”
Ashton shook his head, “So I wasn’t being paranoid about the looks you were giving me when you tried out for the band.”
Michael chuckled, nodding. “I was sort of hoping you’d notice much sooner. I was just drawn in by your confidence that all you needed was a guitarist. And you were right.”
Ashton was still pressed against the arm of the sofa, so Michael stayed where he was, tenderly cradling Ashton’s guitar, letting him set his boundaries, letting him figure out how he felt. Finally, Ashton shifted, actually looking at Michael, no longer pinning himself to the end of the couch. When he spoke, his voice was raw, “It’s just...god, Michael. I’ve trusted you with things I wouldn’t tell anyone else. I’ve been vulnerable with you...I--I’m in fucking love with you.” Ashton’s scoff turned into a disbelieving laugh. “I would fall in love with a demon, makes so much more sense now.”
“Hey now,” Michael said, voice soft as he moved to sit next to Ashton, hand resting on the drummer’s thigh. Ashton didn’t pull away and Michael carried on, “I gave up my original job out of curiosity after we met. The past ten years I’ve spent with you...and the band...I’ve been closer to my old mortal life, old feelings, than I have been in centuries.”
“What do you mean?” Ashton asked, hazel eyes meeting green.
“I mean, I wasn’t always a crossroads demon, if that’s what you’re asking. In my old life I was a travelling minstrel, and one day, I performed the same ceremony you did, summoned the demon who would be my master in order to make a deal.”
Ashton tilted his head, understanding crashing over him and he nodded, curls bouncing. “Did you make the deal you expected me to make? Asking for success and fame?”
Michael chuckled, “No, Ashton, I assumed that’s where you were going because I’ve been a crossroads demon for four hundred years. The number of times I’ve heard that request in the past fifty years alone...it’s not a hard assumption to make.”
Ashton nodded, quietly waiting to hear Michael’s story. Michael hummed, leaning back into the couch as he began. “It was a festival, celebrating the arrival of spring. We were playing in the market square and a boy caught my eye. I later learned he was the son of the lord and lady of that region and doubted I had much chance. But I had to have him. So, that night, I made a deal and within the next fortnight, I was a regular in his bed.
His parents knew nothing of the matter and within two years he was married to the daughter of some duchess, but we had an understanding with her. She had little interest in lying with her husband anyway, her heart laid with one of the maids who helped her dress.
Much too soon my time came and I became a demon. I stopped aging, learned my trade, and began my work. I still spent nights with my beloved, but he continued aging, and soon, at least to me, it became clear that he couldn’t keep up with me anymore. I held his hand as he crossed over. He and his wife never had children, even for the sake of appearances, and so their line ended with their deaths. He chose to be reborn, I check in on him once every century, but I always miss when he would be my apparent age. The two times that I caught him in his later years, his soul recognized me for who I was and we had long talks when I came by, but nothing more.”
Ashton stared, nodding as he listened to Michael’s century’s old tale, of who he had been before Ashton was even a thought. “H-have you found him in this century?” He voiced.
Michael chuckled, “Yes, I have. As much as you remind me of him, you aren’t him. No, he’s the man you’ve known as my dad the past few years. Hate that I had to put that sort of spell on him, but I needed a cover. But, like I said, my timing has been off, probably the curse of being a demon, can’t keep up with the man I loved.”
Ashton nodded slowly. “But you know why I can’t tell anyone why I’ve been pulling away. Luke and Calum wouldn’t understand. I...I don’t want to hurt them.”
Michael hummed, pulling Ashton to rest on his chest. “I know, but I have a plan. I’ll get us both out of this. But first you need to get some sleep.”
Ashton wanted to protest, to explain his nightmares, but the warmth of Michael’s body and the song beginning to fill his ears were making his limbs heavy, eyelids drooping.
~~~~~~
Ashton awoke in his dark room, feeling more rested than he had in months. He was dimly aware of the other body in his bed, but opted to continue to lay still, see if sleep would claim him again, unsure how long he had been out. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Michael murmured, shifting to face Ashton.
Ashton didn’t jump, he wasn’t as foggy as he would normally expect upon waking up. He still remembered his conversation with Michael before he’d fallen asleep, and he still felt comforted by Michael’s presence, despite now knowing the truth. “How long was I out?” He hummed, turning to look at Michael’s silhouette.
Michael shifted, picking up his phone to check the time. “So it was like almost 7pm when you fell asleep the other night, then all of yesterday, I cleaned up the house by the way, and now it’s 5am the next day. Thought you were gonna wake up a few times during the day, but you just rolled over after mumbling something.”
Ashton blinked as he tried to take that in. He didn’t think that he’d ever slept that long, even at his most jet-lagged or exhausted following a long tour. “Makes sense, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten any sleep, since I’ve slept without any nightmares.”
Michael nodded, tentatively reaching out. Ashton moved closer, letting Michael place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Looked up tickets, got us a flight home tomorrow afternoon, figured you’d be awake by then. Do you wanna get Luke and Calum together for lunch or dinner today and just have a boy’s night, have a heart to heart?”
“But we can’t really tell them all of it, can we?”
“Up to you, I don’t mind them knowing, my plan includes shrugging off my old job, getting rid of these guys.”
Even knowing the truth, the sight of Michael’s glowing orange eyes still made Ashton flinch. “Let’s just plan getting together today, and decide what we’re going to tell them when we get there. I’m going to go do some yoga, stretch out after being in bed so long.” Ashton got out of bed after Michael nodded, stretching out his back as he walked around the bed. “How about dinner? Then we can come back here and talk more.”
Michael agreed, “I’ll send them a text later to get everything planned, doubt they’d appreciate a 5am text.”
~~~~~~
Ashton ended up deciding against telling Luke and Calum the full story, since it sounded like Michael was planning on no longer being a demon by the end of the week, and he still wasn’t sure he wanted to explain how Michael had really become part of the band, by Ashton making a deal with the demon. They’d been nothing but supportive, reminding him that they’re always there if he needs to talk. Michael was sitting next to him, occasionally giving him gentle touches and reassuring looks as he explained some of what he’d been going through.
Ashton slept the whole flight back to Australia the next day, only waking during a spot of turbulence to find Michael had rested his head on Ashton’s shoulder, also asleep. Once they’d landed, Michael rented a car and they went to get dinner before checking into the hotel. “Let’s get some rest,” Michael said after he set his bag down, taking a seat on the bed. “Then tomorrow night we’ll go back to where we first met and get this reversed, neither of us will have anything to worry about anymore.”
Ashton nodded, and both men took turns getting ready for bed. There were two beds in the room, but Ashton looked over at Michael anxiously. “Can I sleep next to you? I...I don’t want to be alone in a bed again.”
Michael nodded and Ashton flipped off the lamp by the bed he’d originally claimed, crawling in next to Michael. He moved close to him, scared to be touching him, still not entirely sure where they stood. Michael however, closed the distance after he turned off the lamp, pressing his body closer and throwing an arm over Ashton’s shoulder.
The pair slept soundly through the night, spending the day laying low, having lunch and dinner out at quieter local cafes. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon, full moon rising higher in the sky, Michael drove out to the crossroads where Ashton had summoned him just a month shy of ten years ago. He pulled over, reaching into the backseat for the bag he’d brought with him. Ashton followed him to the center of the intersection, watching as Michael began the summoning ceremony Ashton had followed, but in reverse order. The asphalt swallowed up the ingredients as Michael threw them down, the demon chanting in an ancient language as he circled the ground. He traced glowing orange runes into the road.
Once there was a glowing circle surrounding the runes, Michael stepped back, arms open wide as he continued chanting, Ashton hesitantly stepping forward to stand at his side. Michael fell silent as before them appeared a figure far more terrifying than anything Ashton’s nightmares had conjured. Ashton was petrified, rooted to the spot. Michael gave him a glance before looking back at the entity before them. “Hey Cain, been a minute. Could you do human form, for the sake of my best friend here?”
The figure began to shrink, swirling shadows of dark fog turning to flesh and animal skin clothing, terrifying features morphing to human. “Cain?” Ashton squeaked, “Like Cain and Abel, Cain? Like…”
Michael simply nodded, “Told him about 150 years ago that he owed me a massive favor, now I’m cashing in.”
Cain snorted, now fully human, leaning on a wooden club. “I have existed for millenia, young minstrel, that may as well have been yesterday.”
Michael simply rolled his eyes, carrying on. “Look, you owe me big time and that’s what matters. Ash owes me his soul and his day is coming up, but I don’t want it anymore. I’ve spent the last ten years with Ashton and our bandmates and I’ve been more in touch with my mortal side than I’ve been since my beloved died the first time. After watching him die that first time, and then several times after that, I’m done. I have a new love and I can’t go through that again, watch him age and die. And none of that redemption myth stuff that goes around. I want to be mortal, I want to grow old for the first time in my entire existence, and I want to do that with Ashton.”
Ashton blinked, staring at Michael before he turned to look at Cain, who was deep in thought over Michael’s request. “That definitely is well within your right to request, and fills my debt to you without leaving you in debt to me...well thought out, minstrel.”
Michael’s face remained neutral and Cain held his hands out on either side of him. In his right hand, a scroll with what Ashton recognized as his signature at the bottom, in his left, a glowing ball of light. Cain released the ball of light, which began to float toward Michael as the scroll tore in two and burst into flame. “The deal is complete.” Cain stated, disappearing into shadow as the ball of light reached Michael, floating into his chest.
As soon as the light touched Michael’s chest, he collapsed onto the pavement, Ashton gasping and rushing to his side. Shadows poured from Michael’s eyes, nose, mouth and ears, sinking into the ground. Ashton crouched on the road, holding Michael’s head in his lap as the last of the shadows trickled out and faded away. The blonde’s eyelids slowly fluttered, finally blinking open fully. Ashton stared down at him, an extra glimmer of life showing in Michael’s green eyes that Ashton didn’t think he’d ever seen before. “Ash,” Michael croaked, trying to push himself up, but Ashton firmly pushed his shoulders back down.
“You just got blasted back by that bright thing, you need to chill for a moment.” He stated, hands staying on Michael’s shoulders.
Michael remained still, smiling up at Ashton. “It was my soul, my original soul, the one I signed over,” Michael whispered, “I can feel it.” He paused, then his eyes widened, “Do I look fucking ancient now?” He gasped.
Ashton chuckled, shaking his head, “No, you look like Michael, the same Michael I’ve known for the past ten years, just a little more soul behind your eyes.”
Michael rolled his eyes at the joke before looking up at the stars. “I meant it, when I said I wanted to grow old with you.”
“I know. I do too, I’m glad we have that option now.”
Michael smiled and they sat there quietly until Ashton felt that Michael had recovered, finally getting to their feet and driving back to the hotel. They spent the rest of the week in Australia, Cain’s deal hadn’t undone Michael’s spell on his parents, and both he and Ashton were glad of that, visiting with both their families while they were there.
Once they were back in LA, Michael began moving his things into Ashton’s house. They had dinner with Luke and Calum, and the other two men could tell that something had changed between their friends, but didn’t push it. They knew that they’d be told when Michael and Ashton were ready.
Months later, Michael and Ashton were in their garden, sitting around the fire pit. They’d told Calum and Luke about their relationship at New Years, to which Luke yelled “Finally!” They’d all laughed and hugged before staring into the sky as fireworks exploded across the city, well ahead of midnight.
Tonight was the last night of peace before they were set to go back into the studio. Ashton cuddled closer to Michael on the bench, lazily poking at the burning logs with the hook. “Y’know,” he whispered, “I feel like, if we were both human the whole time we’ve known each other, I’d still offer you my soul.”
Michael glanced at him, green eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Ashton giggled, dropping the metal rod to the grass and leaning up and giving Michael a kiss.
“Like in the I’m totally in love with you way, you worry wart.” He said. “I trust you with my heart and every bit of my being. I know that you won’t hurt me.”
Michael hummed, smiling at Ashton, watching the flames dance in his hazel eyes. “You know what?” He said after a couple of minutes, “I’d give you my soul too.” Michael tore his gaze from Ashton for a moment, sticking his skewer into the flames, watching the marshmallow goo that was still stuck to the metal blacken and drip into the fire. “Feels a lot better this way.” He observed, “With my first love I signed over my soul to get it, but to you, I’d give it freely.”
“That’s how it’s supposed to be.” Ashton whispered.
Michael nodded, dipping his head for another kiss. “I love you Ashton Irwin.”
authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)
ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU
prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”
wordcount: 10k+
warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content
a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers
dance in the living room, love with an attitude
***
The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.
‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.
Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.
Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.
Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room.
After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.
Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.
Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now.
That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered.
“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat.
Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.
It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption.
“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state.
“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.”
Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;
Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose.
He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.
Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.
“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.”
Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?”
Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”
“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”
Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now?
The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.
“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”
Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now.
“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.
“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?”
Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed.
“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”
“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”
“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed.
Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.”
“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation.
His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped.
Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.
“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch.
“Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”
Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped.
“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.
“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life.
“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”
“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.”
Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.”
He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!”
Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that.
Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs.
“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.
Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation.
Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.
“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander.
He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.
“Michael? After you?”
Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”
As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’
‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.
‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.
He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious.
“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.
“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.
Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.
SOS!!!! 🚨
Luke!!!!
Where are you
LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK
With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.
🥺🥺🥺 What’s up
Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.
Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!
Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear.
“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver.
“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”
“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”
“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in.
“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”
“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”
Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”
“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.
***
Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.
‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’
He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.
“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him.
Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”
Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”
Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.”
Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”
Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”
Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.
***
He could definitely not do this.
It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate.
Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed.
As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle.
Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love.
Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory.
Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work.
Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity.
If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company.
Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party.
A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament.
Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion.
All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on.
It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends.
“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?”
Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.”
A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…”
It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming.
Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.
***
As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer.
That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win.
“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be.
Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen.
“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1”
“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“
“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance.
“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area.
“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.”
Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!”
Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.”
Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?”
“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.”
“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…”
“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously.
“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.”
There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?”
Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton.
“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?”
Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.”
Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!”
“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.
“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one.
Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“
“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!”
“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?”
Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.”
Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth.
“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.
“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“
“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”
***
Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning.
Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone.
“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate.
This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.
“I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch.
Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!”
As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.
***
As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct.
Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea.
“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?”
The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?”
Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.”
Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.”
Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.”
Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder.
To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.
***
They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions.
By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton.
“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.”
Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter.
“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?”
Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke.
“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…”
Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”
“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!”
At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all.
He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill.
“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.
“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking.
Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.”
As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients.
Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.
“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.”
There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax.
“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory.
The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef.
Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan.
“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly.
Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name.
It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake.
“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven.
“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”
Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…”
It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly.
“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully.
Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan.
It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.
Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?”
Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently.
“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?”
Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients.
“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells.
Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?”
Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed.
There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan.
Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan.
If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.
***
The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed.
He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further.
“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink.
“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.”
Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.”
It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.”
Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.”
There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another.
Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him.
“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.”
Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying.
“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face.
The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened.
There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him.
The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though.
Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…”
Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.”
The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place.
The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck.
It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time.
“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…”
“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.”
Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered.
Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.”
The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips.
“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him.
“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.
“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led.
Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.
He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead.
Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream.
Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’.
He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.
“Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.
“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”
Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate.
The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?”
Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol.
Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it.
“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself.
“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”
Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.
Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.
Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time.
Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.
“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open.
Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.
Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment.
Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.
With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal.
Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page.
“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.
Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”
Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly.
As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many.
Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”
masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab • my masterlist
“Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”
Warnings: Angst. (So much angst that Beth yelled at me, oops)
Word Count: 4.7K
A note from Lucy: This is part of the writers collab organised by @maluminspace and @h0tsos. The masterlist can be found here. See the end of the post for more notes. Shoutout to @loveroflrh and @kindahoping4forever for your advice, and - as always - thank you to Beth for being my number 1 stan.
You can find my masterlist here
This work must not be reposted anywhere - I do not give my permission for it to appear anywhere other than on my blog, or on my ao3 page.
——————————————————————————
My darling,
The last few days have been endless - whenever you leave it feels as though you take all of the sunshine with you.
If you can sneak away, I will meet you under the Oak just after sundown.
Yours, always.
–
The note had been tucked into the lining of Michael’s riding coat. To anyone else, it would have been impossible to find - but Michael always knew where to look. He smiled softly as he ran his thumb over the cream coloured paper, gaze drifting towards the stables. It had been three days since they had seen each other. Not that they were supposed to see each other as frequently as they did. That had been made clear to them both when they were still children - it had left Michael terrified of his father for almost eight months.
Michael found the first note not long after his sixteenth birthday. It had been shoved into a crack in the wall in the rose garden, the white paper standing out against the grey stonework. There had never been any doubt in Michael’s mind that it had been for him. He’d eased it out of the gap and unfolded it eagerly, the scrawl on the paper confirming what he’d hoped. They’d met under the Oak for the first time that night. Michael had been terrified for days afterwards that they’d be discovered - but as time went on he’d grown to relish in the fear of sneaking out. It was the only time he truly felt alive.
–
The sun was just beginning to set as Michael sprinted across the grounds, a giddy feeling overtaking his senses. The sky was streaked with pink and gold, casting a glow across the well kept lawns. The September air felt cool against his skin as he ran, a sure sign that Autumn was on her way. As Michael neared the bend in the river he slowed to a jog - the ground here was always changing - they had both fallen at one time or another, Michael having fallen into the river on one particular occasion. He smiled softly to himself as he thought about that particular night and the events that had transpired afterwards. Michael glanced over his left shoulder - the house was almost out of sight - before checking the ground in front of him and breaking into a sprint once more. The chances of anyone seeing him were slim, but Michael didn’t want to take any chances. He knew that he didn’t have to run - he was to inherit the house and grounds one day, he could go anywhere he pleased - but the thrill he gained from sprinting towards his destination was unmatched. Michael skidded to a halt as he reached the grey stone wall that marked the border between the gardens and the forest beyond. He leaned against the low wall for a moment to catch his breath, heart thundering in his ears. Once his breathing had slowed somewhat, Michael clambered over the wall.
–
“My love?” Michael kept his voice low as he approached the tree, “Are you here?”
The branches just above him rustled, an acorn falling and hitting him squarely on the top of the head. Michael hissed and rubbed his hand over the spot, quiet laughter coming from within the boughs of the tree. Michael rolled his eyes fondly before reaching up and placing his hands around two of the sturdier branches, pulling himself into the thick foliage.
“You really need to stop dropping acorns on my head, you know.”
A snort met Michael’s words as he situated himself on a branch, hazel eyes meeting his green ones as he looked up.
“Where is the fun in that, my darling?”
Michael scoffed at the comment, smiling slightly as he leaned forwards and closed the gap between them. Warmth flooded through him as their lips met, a hand coming up to cup his face.
–
This was one of Michael’s favourite things in existence. No one could touch what they had when they were here - the Oak was their safe haven in a world that wanted to tear them apart. Admittedly it was sometimes hard having to keep their relationship a secret - all Michael wanted to do was announce it to the world - but they both knew that if anyone found out they would never see each other again. Neither of them wanted to risk that. Michael knew that they were soulmates - not that he’d believed in those until the night of the first note. As he’d laid in bed that night, he knew that everything in his life began and ended with Ashton. Michael had told him as much not long afterwards, admitting his deepest secret to the man he hoped would keep his heart safe.
–
Michael rested his forehead against Ashton’s as they broke apart, the older man threading their fingers together before pressing a kiss to the tip of Michael’s nose. Michael hummed contentedly at the gesture before speaking.
“The last three days have felt like a lifetime. I hate being away from you.”
“And I you, my love.” Ashton pressed a kiss to Michael’s cheek before continuing, “The estate feels empty when you’re not here - it is as though the life of the place leaves when you do. I am sure you’re some kind of warlock and you just do not know it.”
Michael chuckled quietly at Ashton’s words, sitting up to take in the other man’s appearance. Ashton’s cream coloured shirt was tucked loosely into his breeches and he’d rolled the sleeves up over his elbows. His coat was laying discarded over a branch behind him and Michael wondered faintly how the other man wasn’t cold. Ashton seemed to run warmer than anyone else Michael knew, Ashton’s explanation being that he worked outside all year round - his body had adapted to keep him warm. Michael wasn’t sure how accurate that really was, but it did mean that he usually ended up tucked inside the other man’s jacket. Ashton pressing kisses to Michael’s knuckles broke him out of his revive, humming softly as warm lips met cold skin. He tugged Ashton towards him, setting the other man’s hands on his hips. Michael threaded his fingers into the curls at the base of Ashton’s neck, pulling him nearer until their lips met.
–
My love,
I cannot stop thinking about your lips on mine. Kissing you is all I have thought about since the moment we met all those years ago, and now I simply cannot go without it. Father is insisting upon holding another ball on Saturday evening. You know how much I hate them, but he cannot comprehend that perhaps I do not wish to marry. Of course, you and I both know that is not the case - if the circumstances were different I would have made you mine years ago.
Perhaps I can sneak out after midnight on Saturday? You know mother likes to retire early, and father will probably be discussing business. I will meet you in our usual spot.
Eternally yours.
–
My darling,
Saturday will be too much of a risk. The stables will be over capacity and you know Thomas will sneak off at some point. I would love nothing more than to see you in your finery - but I will not be able to get away.
In regards to kissing you - I feel the same way. I always have done. You gave me your heart, but remember that you also have mine. In response to your marriage proposal - if that is what you would even call that - you should know that you would never have to ask. We are bound together eternally and nothing will ever change that.
Yours, always.
–
My love,
You are right about Saturday. It was foolish of me to think that we might be able to go undetected. There will be far too many people roaming the grounds and it is not safe. I will meet you on Sunday as the sun begins to set.
You have bewitched me, body and soul. Never forget.
Eternally yours.
–
My darling,
How could I ever forget?
Until Sunday.
Yours, always.
–
Balls always felt like a blur to Michael. There was so much preparation for a single night and it made his parents particularly stressed. He tended to keep out of their way in the days leading up to a ball, and ordinarily his plan worked. This particular ball however was proving to be more of an event than Michael was used to. There seemed to be more preparation than usual - he’d seen great quantities of food being delivered to the kitchens yesterday, and flowers appeared in every spare space in the house. The marble columns in the ballroom shone, and the house was somehow more immaculate than usual. Even the servants seemed to be more stressed than usual - Michael had entered the library just after lunch yesterday to find two servants talking in hushed whispers. As soon as they saw him their eyes went wide and they scurried from the room. He’d thought that somewhat strange - but his parents' stress seemed to have rubbed off on all of the staff, so he thought nothing more of it.
Michael had walked through one of the entry rooms this morning, immediately catching the eye of his father - who abruptly abandoned his conversation with a servant to stop Michael in his tracks. His father had asked him to accompany him into his study, and of course Michael obliged. As he sat opposite his father and listened to his words, he rather wished he hadn’t. Michael knew that his parents were eager for him to marry, but never did he think that they would take it this far.
–
Meet me at the Oak tonight.
–
Ashton read the note over again hoping that more words would appear on the page. Michael was never that short with him. In all the years that they’d known each other a note from Michael had never filled Ashton with so much dread. He chewed the inside of his lip as he read it over again. Michael’s hand was barely legible - it was clear that he’d written it in a rush. The note had been shoved into Ashton’s jacket pocket while he was mucking out the horses. How he’d missed Michael going past he wasn’t sure; Ashton was usually fairly good at being able to tell if Michael was in the general vicinity. He glanced up at the house and saw some of the other servants carrying armfuls of flowers out onto the driveway. Michael’s mother never put flowers around the edges of the driveway. Alarm bells sounded in Ashton’s mind as he watched the flowers being arranged. Waiting until nightfall was going to be his end.
–
Michael took his time on the walk down to the Oak. He replayed the conversation with his father over again in his mind as he walked, and every step that took him nearer to Ashton filled his insides with more and more nerves. The air had more of a chill than usual and he pulled his jacket tighter around himself. As Michael approached the wall he paused for a moment and looked back towards the house. No one could see him here, and no one had seen him leave - he could quite easily just slip away without anyone realising. He shook his head to clear the thought from his mind before crossing over the wall.
–
From his treetop vantage point Ashton could see Michael ambling slowly towards the wall. Where had his carefree spirit gone? Ashton loved to secretly watch Michael sprint towards him, arms stretched wide with a grin to match. He watched the blonde pause by the wall and look back towards the house. Ashton could see that there was light coming from more rooms than usual, but he wasn’t entirely sure what Michael was looking for - he knew that you couldn’t see the house from here, so why was the other man looking back? Ashton watched him shake his head before he climbed over the wall. Slowly, Ashton climbed back down into the lower levels of the tree to wait for Michael.
–
“I don’t understand.” Ashton’s voice was quiet in the evening air and he refused to meet Michael’s eyes.
“Mother and Father have taken it upon themselves to organise a wedding,” Michael swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing, “that is what Saturday is for. It is to celebrate the union.”
Ashton chuckled darkly, looking up at Michael.
“How can it be a celebration when it is forced?”
Michael shifted uncomfortably under Ashton’s gaze, glancing down at his hands. Ashton sucked in a breath as he studied the other man, his voice wavering as he spoke.
“You’re going ahead with it, aren’t you?”
Michael looked up at him incredulously.
“You say that like I have a choice, Ashton.” The other man flinched at Michael’s words as he continued, “Do you not think I tried everything to prevent it from happening? You know how… explosive my father can be at times, and forgive me but I would rather avoid that event.”
Michael’s jaw clenched as he finished speaking, Ashton once again refusing to meet his eyes. The pair sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime before Ashton finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
“What about.. what about us?”
Ashton’s hazel eyes finally met Michael’s green, hurt painted clearly on his face. Michael steeled himself before replying to the other man’s question.
“There cannot be an ‘us’ anymore.”
–
Michael had expected Ashton to be angry. He’d expected him to shout and scream, and demand to know why Michael was giving up on them. What he hadn’t expected was Ashton to suck in a breath and drop down out of the tree. Michael sat there in a daze as he watched the other man walk quickly away, looking back one more time before breaking into a sprint. Michael choked out a sob as he watched Ashton get further away from him, the bond between them stretching and stretching until Michael felt it snap. Waves of nausea washed over him as he realised what he’d done - what he’d said.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat in the Oak, eyes fixed on the horizon willing Ashton to come back to him. At some point the tears had stopped falling and Michael became aware of the coolness of the night air. He shivered involuntarily, still refusing to look away from where Ashton had finally left his gaze. It was only when tiredness began to tug at his consciousness that Michael lowered himself out of the tree and began to walk slowly back towards the house.
–
It was two days before Michael tried to track down Ashton. He knew that his words had hurt the other man, and he wanted to give him space. Michael ambled down towards the stables, stomach churning. He wasn’t sure how Ashton would take seeing him - Michael hadn’t seen him around at all whenever he’d been skulking around the grounds; this was something he’d found himself doing more and more as the wedding date approached. He pushed the thought of Saturday from his mind, smoothed down his jacket and strolled into the stables. It wasn’t uncommon for Michael to visit the stables - his horse was kept here after all - but very rarely did he visit without notifying a stablehand first. As Michael entered he spotted Thomas immediately. The man was well into his 50’s, having been on the estate for most of his life. Ashton used to joke that Thomas had come with the house when Michael’s family first purchased it - Michael was well aware that this couldn’t be the case. The house was in the hands of the third generation of the Clifford family - a legacy his father was clearly keen to continue.
“Good Afternoon, Sir - forgive me, we were not expecting you. Can I help you with anything?” Thomas was looking at him quizzically, Michael suddenly floundering to find an excuse as to why he was standing in the middle of the stable block.
“Good afternoon Thomas. I was, uh, I was looking for Ashton - he was supposed to be getting new shoes fitted to Shadow. I was coming to check on the progress.”
The older man frowned at Michael’s words, glancing over towards where another stable hand was clearly eavesdropping.
“Pardon my manners Sir, but I wasn’t aware that your horse was in need of new shoes. I’ll get it seen too right away.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure Ashton has it all in hand - I simply wish to discuss it with him.” Michael’s patience with the man was wearing thin - he couldn’t understand why Thomas was being so evasive about Ashton.
“Forgive me, but Ashton left your father’s employment yesterday morning.” Thomas frowned before he continued. “He came to tell me he was leaving after he’d spoken to your father’s steward - I tried to find out why but -“
“Thank you, Thomas.” Michael cut the older man off. “I was not made aware. Please ensure that Shadow is seen too.”
Michael turned on his heel and walked briskly out of the stables, breaking into a sprint as soon as he was out of sight of the doors. He continued running until he reached the river, skidding to a halt. He gasped for air, his chest heaving.
Ashton was gone.
Nausea reared up inside him, and Michael emptied the contents of his stomach out onto the grass.
–
Ashton.
I do not know where you’ve gone - I know why you left.
Forgive me. I never wanted this. If I could take back what I said to you, I would do so in a heartbeat.
I never wanted to hurt you.
I promised you my heart, and you promised to keep it safe. Perhaps all this time it should have been you who was worried.
I felt it.
When you walked away. It felt as though a rope was pulling and pulling and then snapped.
Did you feel it too?
Thomas told me that you had gone today. I had no idea. I never wanted you to leave - I did not expect you to leave. If I am being truthful, and I promised to always be, I do not know what I expected. You have been here for as far back as I can remember, and I suppose I just thought that you would always be here.
I understand now that it was foolish of me to think like that. How could I have expected you to stay, when I was the very reason you felt it necessary to leave?
I do not know if you will ever read this. I have decided to leave it at the Oak. I do not even know if you are still in this county. If you do find this letter, then please know:
You are my sun, my moon, and my stars.
I seemed to have forgotten that. My heart will always be yours.
I do not expect you to forgive me - I cannot undo what has been done, and I must go ahead with the marriage on Saturday. I need to protect my family and our legacy.
I hope you will eventually come to understand.
Eternally yours.
–
Ashton,
I often find myself wandering down by our tree these days. It is the only place I still feel your presence it seems.
My first letter was gone when I looked yesterday. I am trying not to get my hopes up. The wind could have dislodged it, or someone else could have taken it. I suppose I should be more careful in case the latter is true.
Though part of me wonders if I care anymore? It has taken you leaving to make me realise that I was far too caught up in what other people would think.
I love you. And I know that I always will.
Eternally yours.
P.S. I got married yesterday.
The whole affair was far too lavish, but mother seemed to enjoy herself. My bride is Elizabeth Merryweather, if you can believe it. I remember her from when we were young, though I cannot say we have spoken a word from the age of 6 or 7. She seems agreeable enough. From what I can gather she was also not pleased about the arrangement we find ourselves in. Her father was rather generous with the sum he promised to us if we married.
–
My love,
I hope you do not mind me calling you such. I thought it would perhaps conceal our identities once again.
My second letter has also gone from the tree. I hope that it is indeed you receiving them - though I wish you would give me some sort of sign to confirm my hope.
I hope you are well. Mother and Father left the estate today. They have gone to London to stay with my Aunt and Uncle - I highly suspect the move will become permanent. So now it is just Elizabeth and I.
I think you would like her, you know. Her humour is much like your own. I enjoy being in her company - though we both agree our union will only be one of friendship. Neither of us have any desire to parent children; though if our parents enquire we have agreed to say that we are trying.
I am not sure what would become of the house if I do not have an heir to leave it to - I suppose a cousin will take it on.
I had once imagined you and I sitting in the library in our older years. This estate is full of hopes that I once had for us. You are the only person I see myself growing old with.
Eliza was reading a new collection of poetry to me after dinner last night. There is one in particular that made my thoughts drift to you, and I would like to share a part of it with you, if I may?
“Oh, come to me in dreams, my love!
I will not ask a dearer bliss;
Come with the starry beams, my love,
And press mine eyelids with thy kiss.”
This is only the first stanza, and I am unsure who the poet is, however I feel it perfectly expresses our current situation. I see you in my dreams nightly. Forgive me if I overstepped.
I hope you are safe. My heart has not stopped aching since that day we last saw each other. I am not sure that it ever will.
Eternally yours.
–
My love,
It has been almost two months since you left.
Every day I find myself thinking about you more and more. I think Eliza - I have started to call her that - knows that something is distracting me. I am rarely in the house at the moment. Even though the November air sends a chill through my bones, walking the grounds is the only way I seem to be able to collect my thoughts.
Mother and Father have not returned from London. Mother wrote last week to inform us that they had found a large house near The Strand and were moving into it at the end of the month. I was not surprised by the letter's arrival - I seem to recall telling you that I did not think they would return. It seems as though Father has decided that I should receive my inheritance early. We have invited our parents to dine with us at Christmas, however both have declined. I sense that they are trying to encourage children out of Eliza and I. You already know that neither of us consider children to be an option.
I find myself wondering where you are more and more frequently. My letters keep disappearing, however I am still trying not to keep my hopes up in case it is not you reading these words.
I know that I already asked you for a sign, and I have thus far received nothing. I am simply hoping that you are choosing to keep your distance - I understand this of course. The more I linger on the events of September, the more sorry I feel. You did not deserve my harshness. You have always kept my heart safe, as you promised.
It still belongs to you, you know.
Eternally yours.
–
Michael meandered slowly down towards the Oak, pulling his coat tighter around himself and patting his pocket to double check he had Ashton’s letter. The chill in the November air was verging on unbearable - Michael was sure that snow would soon be on its way. He was unsure as to whether he’d be able to continue visiting the Oak when it snowed - if the snowfall was anything like the year previous it would be almost unreachable. Michael had walked this path so many times in the last two months he was sure he could do it with his eyes closed. He knew that Eliza was curious about his prolonged absences during the day - he just wasn’t sure how to explain to her why he was out so often.
I’m in love with my old stable hand and I’ve been writing him letters ever since he left two months ago. It broke his heart when I told him I was to be married.
Even saying it in his head sounded ludicrous. Michael was sure that she wouldn’t judge him for writing letters to Ashton if he explained that he was just a friend. But Michael knew that Ashton would always just be more than a friend to him. They had been through - and shared - so much. Ashton had his heart. Michael wasn’t certain that Eliza would understand; loving another man was not something that you were supposed to do.
Michael sighed as he climbed over the wall - the stones were starting to dislodge from his constant passage back and forth. The Oak stood not far in the distance, it’s branches barren. Its leaves had seemed to start dropping the week that Ashton had left - Michael had since decided that the universe was playing a cruel trick on him. The more leaves that fell, the more lonely Michael felt. He of course knew that the transition into Winter caused the leaves to fall; the timing however, Michael had decided, was uncanny. Even from this distance Michael could see that his previous letter was gone. His heart always jumped a little when he saw that it was no longer there. What he did notice this time around was something in the place where he’d left the letter. Michael quickened his pace, glancing around to check for any sign of Ashton.
The something Michael saw turned out to be a small box wrapped in a red cloth. He gingerly plucked it out of the tree, cradling it gently in his hands. On the top of the parcel was a small card, and Michael felt his heart beat louder in his chest. He pulled it free from where it was lodged in the cloth, turning it over.
Consider this a sign.
Michael sucked in a breath as he ran his fingers over the words on the paper. This was Ashton’s hand. These were his words.
Michael pocketed the card with shaking hands, sucking in a breath as he looked back at the small parcel. He slowly undid the knot on the top of the box and pulled the red silk free, wrapping it around his left hand. Michael eased the lid off the box slowly, holding his breath until he saw the contents. He let out a breathy laugh as he pulled out a singular acorn. Michael blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over as he turned the object over in his palm, his heart continuing to pound in his chest.
Ashton had been getting his letters. He’d read them.
Michael clutched the acorn to his chest, his heart soaring.
“Michael?”
Michael’s eyes grew wide and he spun around, hazel eyes meeting his green.
——————————————————————————
Notes: So. There is a lot more of this to come. This idea became far too big for the event and part 2 is already in the works! This is a real labour of love and the self-indulgence is rife. I really hope you all enjoyed this. It really is my own Regency forbidden romance and I love it - I hope you do too!
Any questions, advice or constructive criticism? Shoot me a message here
i wish you would write about a soulmate mashton au (if that's ur kinda thing! if not cashton would also hit the spot right about now lmao)
I love soulmate aus and mashton is a pairing I’ve been wanting to explore, just needed the right inspo 🥰
Send me an “I wish you’d write...”
Just like everyone in the world, Michael awoke on the morning of his 18th birthday with a brand new tattoo. He rushed to the bathroom, going to look in the mirror. He smiled at the “to the moon...” tattoo he’d gotten the year previous before turning his attention to the portion of his skin that was currently tingling. He pulled his brightly colored hair away from the side of his neck, twisting and turning trying to see the image on his skin. He tried taking a mirror selfie, but even then he couldn’t really see the new ink clearly.
So he ran through the band’s London apartment, pouncing on Calum to wake his best friend. “Mike,” Calum groaned, “I know it’s your birthday and I can’t get mad at you, but it’s too fuckin early.”
Michael whined, laying down on Calum’s chest, “Please, I just need you to tell me what my tattoo is, I can’t see it. I promise you can wake me up in a couple months on your birthday if you can’t see yours.”
Calum hummed, fixing his fringe before sitting up, slightly to look down at Michael, “Where is it?” he asked after rubbing his eyes.
Michael smiled, sitting up slightly and moving his hair out of the way again, waiting impatiently for Calum to take a look. His hands moved Michael’s away, humming as he looked at the skin. “It’s a smiley sun,” he yawned, reaching for Michael’s phone so he could show him.
Michael grinned, still half on top of Calum as he stared at the photo of the line art tattoo on the side of his neck, just below his ear, excitement coursing through his veins as he now could at least have an idea of what to look for on those who could potentially be his soulmate, the other half to his sun.
~~~~~~
The years went on, the band continuing to grow up together and enjoying each new level of success as it came. They were working on their fourth album, Luke had recently found the other half to his tattoo, and had been floating around the studio all month. Michael was doing his best to hide his moping, to be happy for his best friend, but Ashton saw through it. He chewed his lip, deciding to wait until the next day when he and Michael had a writing session together to voice a theory he’d had for several years now.
He sat on the couch, iced coffee in one hand while the thumb of the other traced over the smiling half moon on his wrist. He’d tried recently to hide it by getting the massive series of blood moons down his arms, but a soulmate tattoo couldn’t be covered, the red and black ink staining his pillow the next morning after having stubbornly told the artist, ‘no, it’s not my soulmate tattoo, it’s just something dumb I got as a kid that I want to make better now.’
There was a break in their conversation about writing and he slowly moved closer, right next to Michael, rehearsed beginning of this conversation at the forefront of his mind. “Michael,” he said slowly, serious tone attracting the younger man’s attention. “I know you’ve been down ever since Lu told us about his soulmate, that you’ve been searching anxiously for yours ever since your tattoo appeared six years ago...staring at anyone who had a sun until you realized they’d paid for it or it didn’t line up with yours, but what if...he was in front of you the whole time?”
Michael frowned, head tilting to the side as he replied, “What do you mean, Ash?” His green eyes glimmering as he stared into Ashton’s hazel.
“Remember a few years back when I referred to you as my opposite end of the battery? I didn’t think anything of it in the moment, but afterwards, I began to wonder...”
The blonde tenderly pushed Michael’s hair out of his face, wrist coming to rest next to the sunshine on his neck. They both gasped at the slight electric sensation as their tattoos touched. Ashton staring before taking his phone out and getting a picture of where the sun and moon lined up, perfectly. They both stared at the image on the phone, eyes wide before looking up at each other, grin spreading across Michael’s face as he understood.
Ashton felt joy bubbling in his chest as what he thought for so long was just some stupid theory and tried to push away was proven to be true, trying to find the words to explain his feelings. Instead, he was tackled onto the couch, Michael’s lips meeting his in an excited kiss. Ashton grinned as he returned the action, arms wrapping around his soulmate.
