it's me [muke af]

tattooed tears//the front bottoms

tattooed tears//the front bottoms 

Ashton was in a white and pink garden dress. It flowed off of Michael's small shoulders perfectly, Ash was so glad Mike had a feminine body. Tiffany blue Vans were tied upon his feet. His nails were freshly painted, still a little wet from the second coat ten minutes ago. 

He stood in Alex's closet, disgusting by all the ripped tee shirts and plaid flannels. "What is this girl's wardrobe?" He asked himself. 

One of his pale hands held up a black tee shirt, the Rolling Stones logo on the front. There were rips everywhere, on the shoulder, on the sleeve, around the collarbones, around the ribs. It was a mess. Why did Michael let her out like this?

Alex headed up the stairs, Nick somewhere in the kitchen. Once a month, Luke would have late nights where he would leave early in the morning and wouldn't be back until early the next morning. It was always quiet without something going on in their simple home. 

She froze in the doorway, "W—What are you doing?"

"Is this clothing?" Ashton asked, spinning the shirt around and then placing it on her bed. "Like, some of this could actually be cute, but you cut it all up."

"Actually, Michael cut it up with me. Why isn't he here?"

Ashton shrugged as he picked up another black tee shirt. "He was on the phone with your grandmother. It was making his head hurt."

Alex placed her tote bag on the floor next to her desk. "Well, Grandma's not here now, can Mike come back?"

Ashton shook his head. "Why do you always want to get rid of me? I think I'm a lot of fun." He picked up a white crop top, there were more holes than fabric. He threw it on the ground with a disgusted look on his face.

It was weird, Alex could see her father in front of her. It was him, his round nose, his dark eyebrows. It was the same high cheekbones, the same pink lips. She knew those small fingers and anchor tattoo on his finger. It was Michael physically, but she hated to admit he wasn't there mentally. 

The blue-haired girl sat on her bed, crossing her legs and spinning her ring around her finger. "I don't know. I kind of like Michael more than you."

Ashton scuffed as he got distracted. "I am Michael, kind of." He moved to her desk, only feet away from Alex. He picked up a few photos, looking at her and her friends growing up over the years. 

"But you're really not."

"You should try telling Michael how much you care about him. He doesn't think you love him."

She looked at him with sad eyes, "Does he really think that?"

Ashton nodded, "All the time. You don't even call him 'Dad'. He knows that shouldn't matter, but it hurts him." He paused, "Is this your boyfriend?" He held up a white framed photo of Alex with her boyfriend, his lips inches away from the side of her face. 

"Yeah."

"He looks slimy. You could do better."

Alex rolled her saturated eyes, "Okay, I've had my five minutes with you. Please leave now." She pulled off her purple sweater, revealing the black camisole underneath it. She pulled her hair out of the french braid, taking it upon the top of her head in a bun instead. 

"You could be so pretty if you just took out that piercing and let your natural hair grow back in," he sighed, crossing his arms in a huff.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over my bomb-ass hair and lip ring."

Ashton rolled his eyes, "You know, I was actually the one that gave birth to you."

"Nope, they actually cut me out of you. I'm pretty much a tumor baby," she responded. Alex leant over to grab her computer, opening the lid and typing in her password. 

"I love you, Alexandria," he said before turning away and walking out of her room. 

She furrowed her colored in eyebrows before watching him come back in. He picked up the crop top, "This is going in the garbage."

"Ashton! That's my favorite!" She yelled, pushing her computer off her laptop and chasing him. 

x x x 

Luke sighed as he took off his leather jacket. He turned on their bathroom light, quickly closing the door to not wake up Ashton. 

He was upset that it was 4:50 in the morning and he just got home. He was upset that Ashton was in his bed. He was upset because there wasn't anything good on HGTV. 

The blonde started to peel off his long sleeved shirt when the bathroom door creaked open. He expected the cat, not Ashton. "Hey, I missed you."

Luke licked over his dry lips, "Why are you back?" He looked down at his tight jeans, undoing the belt and unbuttoning the top. 

"Thanks for the love."

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Ashton's forehead. "I'm sorry, Ash. How are you?" Luke pulled down his tight jeans, kicking them off of his feet. There were red lines were the seam was, an outline of the waistband on his slightly increasing stomach. He didn't want to admit he was getting older and his metabolism was slowing down. He wanted to be young forever. 

Ashton leant his head against Luke's broad back, his arms tight around Luke's stomach, "Good. I don't think I'm going to be here long."

Luke pressed his hand over Ash's hand, rubbing his thumb in soft circles over the pale skin he fell in love with. "What happened today? Was Michael lonely?"

"His mom called," Ash said. He pressed his soft lips to Luke's back, leaving tiny kisses down his spine.

"Oh, was it a bad conversation?" Luke asked. He grabbed his toothbrush, leaning over to wet it without moving too much upon Ashton's crotch. 

"No, he was just getting anxious again. He feels like a failure, like a disappointment."

Luke spit into the sink. He looked in the mirror, the pale boy's arms wrapped around his stomach. They've seemed to be in this position millions of times before. 

He twisted his body, wrapping his arms around Ashton's shoulders and lingering a kiss on his forehead. "Let's get to bed. I hope Mike is back soon, okay? Can you tell him that?"

Ashton gave him a small smile. "I guess."