the sound, settle down [mashton af]

// t w e n t y - t w o //

22. And you're sure that I'd learn/I'm pushing through bodies/ Avoiding me and walking 'round you

"I hate leaving the house," Michael said as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a flannel, his hair freshly washed and blow dried.

"I'm not spending another Friday night in this house with you. You need to go outside, get some air, get laid." Ashton stood behind him, his hands wrapping around Michael's waist and under the thick, plaid material. "I mean, you're gonna get laid regardless if we go out or not, but it's the inspiration behind my words that counts, you know?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "I can't believe even Timothy left me."

"He has friends," Ashton took a step back, going back to Mike's bed and sliding on his shoes, "let him live."

Michael pouted out his lower lip, "It was supposed to be our movie night." He turned around, leaning against his bureau and watching his ex tie his high-tops.

"Now it's gonna be our party night."

"The last party I went to was prom."

Ash looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. "Michael, that was 12 years ago. You didn't even stay the entire time. You showed up then left."

"We had a two-year-old to take care of!"

It was now Ashton's turn to roll his eyes. "Your parents were taking care of him. You ruined his bonding time with his grandparents." He stood up, cracking his knuckles and dragging his fingers through his hair once more. "You've always been such a homebody."

Michael followed Ashton as he began heading downstairs. "Well, sorry that I enjoy staying home!"

"Live a little!"

"Last time you said that, I impregnated you." The two reached the foyer, neither of them able to hold in their laughter.

It was good to hear each other laugh again.

Ashton grabbed his phone and wallet, making sure he had everything he needed for the night. "We probably won't stay long. The club closes at 5, but we'll probably be out around 1."

"Can we be out around 11?"

Ash looked at the watch—that was actually Michael's—on his wrist. "Michael, it's 10:45 right now."

Mike nodded, "I'm glad you understand."

Ashton grabbed Michael's hand, pulling him out to the garage.

Timothy reached over, grabbing Calum's hand. He entwined their fingers, his thumb running over Cal's fingers. "Why don't you live with your parents anymore?"

"How many college kids do you know live with their parents?" Calum asked quietly, looking down at Tim.

"I don't know any college kids," the fifteen-year-old responded, "besides you." Tim let go of Cal's hand, rolling onto his back and staring up at Calum's ceiling.

His eyes scanned the bedroom. Binders and papers were a mess upon his desk, his laptop buried underneath it all. There were a few photos up on the beige walls, most of them crooked. Clothes were strewn on the ground, his laundry basket overflowing.

"It's fun living in the city," Calum said. "It took a while to get used to the sirens and all the lights, but I've grown to love it over the past year."

"Yeah?"

"Plus it's only a few blocks from work, a few blocks more to NYU. It's the perfect location." Calum rolled onto his side, looking over at Tim. They were sharing the same blanket, their movie marathon had turned into a talk-deep-about-life.

Tim was staying over for the night. Cal didn't know what the younger boy was expecting, but Calum knew that he couldn't let anything happen. He's never kissed Tim and he doesn't plan on any time soon. He doesn't mind sharing a bed with the younger one, he just can't let his subconscious spoon the boy.

Timothy was four years younger. Calum knew that one day their gap wouldn't feel too weird, but at the moment it felt pretty wrong. Cal was a legal adult, he could vote, he could serve the country, he could ink his skin and piece his body.

Timothy couldn't do any of that, yet. Tim couldn't even drive.

"I feel like living alone would be scary," the brunette admitted. "Don't get me wrong—I love my alone time. It just seems scary to actually live all alone."

"It's scary at times. Like, I'm always convinced someone is trying to break in."

Timothy curled back up to Calum, listening to the older boy tell a story before they both fell into a slumber.

Michael took a drink from Ashton's hands, figuring he has had enough. "We're too old for this," Mike said, "I want to go home to my kid."

Ashton wrapped his arms around Michael's neck, leaning in so he could speak over the loud, pounding music around them. "Your kid isn't at home, it's only 1."

"You said we could leave at 1." Michael had his own hands holding steady to Ashton's waist. His fingers were so cold as they touched Ashton's warm skin. "Please? I'm 100 percent sober, I can drive us home now."

Ash sighed and pressed his lips to Michael's Adam apple. "Okay, come on, Sugar Tits."

EEEEE thoughts?