Chapter Text
-
Don’t hold back
I can see in your mind, and your mind will set you free
And I feel you close
Feel you close like you wanted me to
-
‘Ashton!’
Loud footsteps make their way up the stairs, making the floor under Ashton’s feet shake. The walls and ceiling are shaking too: dust and gravel falling down in places where the house can’t take the abuse any longer. Ashton barely has time to pull his jeans back up his legs, let alone put on a t-shirt.
He was standing in front of his body-long mirror, inspecting the damage.
Ashton turns around as the door to his room gets slammed open. A tall, broad figure takes up the entire doorframe as he stands there, looking at Ashton like a bull ready to attack him. He can hardly make out the man’s facial features because of the bright lights coming from behind him, but he’s pretty sure it’s his father.
‘Ashton!’ His loud voice thunders through the room like dynamite, more dust and pieces of ceiling coming down because of it. Yeah, definitely his father.
‘Is it true what Harry just told me?!’
Ashton never stood a chance. He was cornered in the locker room by three disgusting guys from a higher grade who called him names and screamed at him until he cried and slid down against the wall, wrapping his arms around his own trembling body. They pulled him away from the wall by his hair and kicked him until he threw up over one of the guys shoe’s. Then some more for good measure.
The evidence of today’s events is clear on his skin, he can’t even try to lie. He’s supporting a black eye, a cut eyebrow and lower lip, and several bruises and abrasions spread over his face, torso and arms. But the worst part is probably not the physical pain: the worst part would be his father’s reaction.
‘Dad, I…’
‘No excuses! Ashton, you can’t let people walk all over you! You’re a man, aren’t you? Do you think real men let themselves be beat up?!’
Ashton hates him. He hates him so, so much.
‘Real men know how to defend themselves! It’s worse enough you are what you are, but you can’t go around getting your ass kicked! You’re an Irwin for fucks sake!’
And Ashton can’t help it. He knows it will only make his dad angrier with him, but after the day he’s had, the yelling is just too much to take. Big tears are streaming down his face, the salty water stinging in his wounds.
Maybe his father is right, maybe he deserved it. He asked for it by coming out, then let it happen because he knew he couldn’t take the guys. He’s small and skinny, his face chubby with acne patches on his cheeks. Maybe it’s his fault for making himself an easy target.
When his father spots the tears rolling down his son’s face his facial expression changes into something Ashton has never seen before. He leaves his room, and before Ashton knows it his little brother Harry comes running in.
‘I’m so sorry I told him Ashton! I thought he would help!’ Harry yells, panic tears rolling down his cheeks. Ashton wants to answer, wants to tell him that it’s alright, but the second he opens his mouth his father is back in the room, pushing Harry aside so roughly the boy trembles and falls, his head hitting the ground hard.
And Ashton wants to say something about it, he wants to yell, but every possibility of producing sound is suddenly impossible because he can see the sharp pair of scissors shining in his father’s hand.
‘Today you’re becoming a man.’ He says, his voice colder than ever. ‘Starting with that hair.’
Ashton wants to run, but before he can even put one foot before the other his father has grabbed a hand-full of blonde fringe, pulling him back harshly. Ashton hears a snipping sound and…
Suddenly Ashton’s awake. His eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling of his small room in the apartment he shares with Calum. His heart is racing, he’s panting and he feels sweaty all over. He can barely register his phone ringing obnoxiously, probably what caused him to wake up in the first place.
Without fully registering that it was all just a dream and he’s in the real world now, he grabs his phone from his nightstand. Two shining emerald eyes greed him from the picture on his screen.
‘Michael.’ He chokes out when he picks up. His voice sounds desperate and scared, breaking at the end of the word. He can hear his own rugged breathing, his chest going up and down fast.
‘Ashton? You sound weird, are you okay?’
‘I had a nightmare.’ Ashton almost whispers, suppressing a sob. Panic-tears are rolling down his cheeks and he feels like he might throw up.
‘Stay where you are, I’m coming over.’
-
‘So that’s never happened before?’ Michael asks him as they’re sitting at the dining table behind the creamy white couch, both with a cup of coffee. Ashton is in a black tank-top and boxers, Michael’s dressed like he’s about to go out to party with a black snapback backwards on his head and an ACDC t-shirt on.
‘Not like this.’ Ashton mumbles. He’s staring at the coffee Michael made for him while he was in the shower, ridding his skin of the fear-sweat. He isn’t really feeling caffeine right now, his head is still going a hundred miles an hour because of the dream. ‘I mean, I’ve had some nightmares like this before, but never with my father acting like that.’
‘So… which part of the dream was actually true?’ Michael asks carefully. Ashton hates it. He hates the pity, the feeling of not being able to take care of himself. He especially hates it when Michael does it: he normally gives Ashton such a hard time, and the boy honestly loves that about him.
‘The part about the violence.’ Ashton mumbles anyway. He knows damn well Michael isn’t gonna let this go, no matter how badly Ashton wants him to. It’s his own damn fault for answering the phone like a wuss. ‘I came out two weeks before that, and was kicked the shit out of that day in the locker room because of it. The janitor came and saved me, I’m pretty sure they would’ve killed me if he didn’t because I barfed on one of the asshole’s Jordans. The part about the haircutting is not true though. My dad always told me to man up and that I was “an Irwin” and that shit, but it never got physical. He was just a dick I guess.’
‘You’re taking this quite lightly.’ Michael comments, his eyebrows raised. ‘Those guys assaulted you.’
‘Well what did you expect?’ Ashton reacts, venom in his voice that makes Michael look at him indignantly, eyebrows raised. A short silence follows, Ashton’s words floating in between them for Michael to decide what to do with.
‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe a little more damn emotion?’ He answers then, frowning. His voice is sharp like a knife, cutting into Ashton’s heart. ‘You’re telling me you got assaulted when you were younger and that your dad basically was a dick to you growing up like you’re listing your groceries.’
‘Jesus Michael, you don’t need to baby me you know.’
Ashton really doesn’t want to act like this, really doesn’t want to make Michael upset with him. But he despises the feeling of being weak, and the fact that Michael is trying to get him to show emotion triggers his defence mechanism like crazy. Michael laughs mockingly, standing up from his chair.
‘Wauw, okay, I’ll remember not to come rushing over again when you answer the phone crying about a nightmare. Apparently trying to get some goddamn emotion out of you for a change is “babying you”.’
Ashton feels a blush creep onto his cheeks at the mention of him crying. He feels so embarrassed. ‘What is your problem?’ Ashton asks, frowning and standing up too. Michael looks at him like he’s about to kill him, his hands balled to fists by his sides.
‘Oh I don’t have a problem Ashton. You know what your problem is though? You push away anyone who even tries to get close because you can’t stand the idea of someone helping you. You want to do everything on your own. If you want to keep this superficial that’s fine with me, but just tell me so I don’t have to waste anymore fucking energy on you.’
‘Oh I’m a waste of energy alright!’ Ashton suddenly screams, raising his voice and visibly intimidating Michael. He’s glad Calum’s at work, this whole scène would’ve raised some questions. ‘We’ve been friends for what, three months? What do you expect Michael? Me telling you my whole damn life story and crying like a bitch about it? Well guess what, it was shit, but I’m over it!’
‘If you were really over it you’d talk about it, cause that’s what normal people do!’ Michael shouts back, his voice possibly even louder than Ashton’s.
‘Don’t act like your way is the only right way Michael.’ Ashton spats out. ‘It’s not my fault you like to Doctor Phil the shit out of every conversation.’
‘That’s not even what I’m saying!’ Michael yells. ‘You’re so goddamn stubborn! I was about to ask you out you know, cause the past three months have been pretty fucking great. But I can’t deal with this. You’re a fucking brick wall.’
‘Well I’m sorry I didn’t turn out to be what you expected!’ Ashton screams. Michael sighs and rubs his face, looking tired and emotional.
‘Don’t be like that.’ He says quietly, looking down at his shoes.
‘Like what? This is me Michael. I’m not forcing you to be my friend.’ Ashton growls.
‘This is what you want then?’ Michael asks with a shaking voice, now looking up at Ashton. His green eyes are shining, and for a second Ashton thinks the boy in front of him is about to cry. Those two sad-looking green orbs immediately break down every single piece of anger Ashton has left inside of him. ‘Cause I’ll leave you know. You say you’re not forcing me but I didn’t ask for this either. I just like you.’
‘I don’t want this, you just… I can’t…’ Ashton stumbles. Michael’s intense look makes him loose track of his words and he quickly breaks their eye-contact.
Ashton sighs and bites his lower lip. Michael is staring him down from across the table, but he knows better than to look up at the boy. Those green eyes will make him say things he can’t ever take back.
‘I like you too.’ He mumbles, staring at his feet. ‘But this… I am me. You can’t change me.’
‘I don’t want to change you.’ Michael answers, his voice soft now. ‘I just want to help. Cause sometimes I get the idea you need help.’
There is a long silence between the two of them. It has Ashton thinking about the first time he properly met Michael. The boy had been dancing at the club for at least more than half a year before Ashton had built up the confidence to talk to him (read: couldn’t stand Calum’s salty remarks about him being whipped anymore). Michael had the greenest eyes Ashton had ever seen, and the most vibrant personality. He had walked up to the bar after closing hours, when Ashton was cleaning it, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers and ordered a Bacardi-Cola. Ashton had nervously served him, then nervously declined his offer to go out together the same night. Calum had been cheated on by his boyfriend of almost a year only a few days prior, and Ashton couldn’t just leave him alone for the night.
Michael had named the club and told him to come if he changed his mind before walking off, openly flaunting his body to all the staff. He stopped to dance around with the shot boys to “Rock this party” by Bob Sinclair, one of the club’s favourite after-closing songs to play through the surround sound to get the lasting energy out of the staffs’ system. The way Michael’s hips swayed from side to side had Ashton looking hungrily, but he tried to get it out of his head for now. Calum, who usually partied hard to this song, had his head down and cleaned the bar without socializing. It hurt Ashton to see him like that: Calum was one of the most important people in his life, the only one who he let in, told about his past and allowed to know every single side of him. He saw how much the guy was hurting, and he was hurting because of it. They had met in freshman year of college, and been best friends ever since.
Together they had cleaned the bar quickly, then left the club and headed home. The second they walked in the door Calum went to his room and stayed there. After an hour of walking around and watching some TV without really watching, Ashton realised Calum had probably fallen asleep and wasn’t gonna come out until tomorrow evening.
He couldn’t get Michael out of his head. The name of the club was still in his mind, and the temptation to get out of the house was getting bigger and bigger. He loved Calum, really did, but the atmosphere had been so awful lately. Calum’s sadness filled the entire apartment, took up every inch like a suffocating blanket. Ashton understood, he honestly did, but it pressed heavily on his shoulders.
In a moment of weakness (or clarity, he still can’t decide) Ashton grabbed his jacked and keys and left their apartment. He drove up to the club Michael had mentioned, it being around 3 AM. The club was probably closing in about an hour, and Ashton wasn’t even sure if Michael was still there, but he needed to feel careless for a while, even if it was just a short hour and even if it was on his own.
He had made his way inside the club, which was all bright purple and blue neon, slow thick bass and drunk girls. As soon as he was facing the crowd he realised he didn’t really have any plan at all to find Michael. True, it couldn’t be too hard cause the boy had green hair and all, but there were at least four hundred people in this club.
Ashton had decided that if he was going to try and find the boy he needed some alcohol first. He had made his way to the bar, where, to Ashton’s surprise, he spotted a green-haired boy leaning over it, ordering a drink.
‘Hey.’ Ashton had casually said when he appeared next to Michael, who’s face changed from confused into pleased in a second.
They had danced for what felt like hours. Pressed up against other sweaty body’s and pressed up against each other. They had laughed and drank and acted like crazy people till the sun was coming up and Ashton had driven Michael home, the windows down and lukewarm air blowing through their hair on what was gonna be the first hot day of spring. Michael had told him all about himself, his parents and his childhood and Ashton hadn’t really done anything but get attached to the boy.
Over the coming months they kept hanging out. Ashton didn’t really know why he kept it a secret from Calum, but he did. His friend got better though, and the atmosphere in the house improved with it.
All of that floats through Ashton’s mind in seconds as he stands across from Michael, speechless. The feelings of that first night they spent together in the club are making his heart soft. Michael is right: even though they had lots of fun in the last three months, Ashton has kept himself from really letting Michael in and telling him about his childhood and issues.
It’s just so hard on him. His dad had raised him this way, and getting that behaviour out of his system is extremely difficult.
Real men don’t talk about feelings.
Real men don’t cry.
Real men don’t like men.
His father was somewhat accepting. He was one of those I-don’t-care-as-long-as-I-don’t-have-to-see-it people. He never hated on Ashton about it or called him names, but now that he didn’t have a son that would bring a girl home, he desperately wanted a son who would be as manly as he could possibly be. After the incident in the locker room he had even made Ashton take boxing classes. As a result he got buff and didn’t get messed with anymore, but at the expense of him being a sensitive person. Showing feelings became a weakness.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ashton mumbles, looking back up at Michael. ‘You’re not… you’re great, okay?’
A small smile, careful appears on Michael’s face, enough to make Ashton feel something stirring in his stomach, just like when Michael dances on stage.
‘I was gonna ask you if you want to come with me to this underground café. Some unknown Indie-rock band is playing. You like Indie-rock right? Thought you said that once.’
‘I do.’ Ashton answers, now full on smiling. ‘I’ll get my stuff okay? Meet you downstairs in ten?’
‘Sure.’
Michael is about to walk out of the apartment when Ashton calls him back. The boy turns around, raising his eyebrows.
‘Thank you.’ Ashton mumbles a little unsure. Michael just smiles and nods before making his way out of the apartment.
The way the boy doesn’t make a big deal about Ashton saying ‘thank you’ makes him feel even better. Opening up and showing emotion is hard enough for him, but Michael makes Ashton want to at least try his best.