the sound, settle down [mashton af]

// f i f t e e n //

15. A soft sound/ To the way that she wears her hair down/ Covering up her face

The next morning was Saturday, a usual calm day in the Clifford house. Soccer season was long over, so there wasn't much happening anymore. Track didn't start for a few months, Tim wasn't in training. Everything was calm.

This Saturday, though, was a little different.

Michael rolled over, his skin bare and freezing cold. He reached down to the floor, picking up a grey sweatshirt from his alma mater. He slid it on, grabbing plain flannel pajamas bottoms, too.

He turned around, already expecting Ashton to be there. Ashton looked so peaceful, even with goosebumps covering his skin.

He looked so beautiful when he slept, yet so unaware.

Everything was calm in Ashton's nature when he slept, like nothing ever mattered. Michael wondered if he looked like that, too. Did he ever look so at peace?

Mike pulled up another sweatshirt from the ground, quickly smelling the thick, red material to make sure it wasn't too old. He poked Ashton's chest, waiting for him to signify he was a little bit awake.

"Hm?" The older man softly mumbled, his eyes blinking lowly. He licked over his dry lips and swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You're gonna freeze to death," Michael said as he placed the sweater on his chest.

Ash leant up, grabbing the material and sliding it over his torso. He smiled at Michael before getting comfortable in the plush sheets once more. He stayed on the right side of the bed yet faced Michael.

Mike turned onto his side, placing his hands underneath his head. He looked at Ashton, his eyes closed, his eyelashes resting so delicately on his cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted, breaths of air flowing in and out. A soft drone of a snore filled the big, empty bedroom.

Michael reached out his hand, his thumb running along Ashton's cheekbones.

He can remember doing the same a decade ago. Michael still can't believe where their lives have taken them. He can't believe that their story was reality. He can't believe that their kid is half their age, he can't believe that Ashton never saw Tim grow up, he can't believe that he never wants Ashton to leave again.

Ashton wasn't there when Tim lost his first tooth. He wasn't there when Michael's mom taught him to ride a bike. He wasn't there when Tim broke his nose after slipping on black ice. He wasn't there for anything, Michael isn't sure if Ashton deserves to be there for the rest.

On the other hand, though, maybe Ashton does deserve to be there again. Michael doesn't think it's Ashton fault for not being part of Timothy's life, maybe Ashton deserves to finish the rest of his life with his family.

Ashton rolled onto his back, Michael's hand falling from his face. The brunette stretched out, sounds mimicking one of a dying animal as he fully woke himself.

Mike smiled as Ashton rolled back into Michael. Mike wrapped his arm around Ashton's torso, pulling him closer until their hips met up in the middle.

Ashton's hands—curled up with red sweater paws—rested comfortably on Michael's chest as he looked up, their eyes meeting.

Michael and Ashton have been in love since 15 and 16. At 29 and 30 now, they feel although they don't have to use their voice to speak. Green eyes can meet golden, and everything just makes sense.

Ashton smiles at Michael, still not saying a word. Michael leans down, kissing his forehead. He's still so in love, he just can't trust his lover.

Michael can't trust Ashton, and that's not love. Ash knows it, too.

This was a bit of a filler, but sometimes filler is just as important, you know?

Do you think you should be able to trust your significant other 100 percent? Do you think you're still able to love them if you don't trust them?

What do you think Ashton is getting out of all of this?