Balls [5sos ot4]

baby balls

Luke's pov:

Calum and Ash are at the corner store, getting some "condoms and milk", according to Michael. Although, I'm pretty sure I heard Ashton say something about tampons. But he's starting testosterone soon so I don't understand why he'd need them. It doesn't matter though, I've never understood periods anyway. Even if I had a vagina myself, I still wouldn't understand.

Mikey and I are alone, sitting on the couch together. The television is on but we're not really watching it. Some news channel is on, sharing all the horrible stuff happening in the world right now. I study the women and men, noticing the excessive amounts of makeup weighing down their faces. I wonder if that's what we look like when we're being interviewed. Or even on stage performing.

Probably.

The man and woman fade into a screen of the weather forecast and that's when I pay attention. I need to know which jeans to wear. The black skinny jeans with the rips or without the rips.

Michael is staring at me, like he usually does when we're alone. He just stares as I try to make myself look busy. It doesn't really work. That's when I usually stare back.

I like looking at him. He's pretty. His fluffy hair sprawls out against his forehead. His big lips always look red. (I'm pretty sure he steals some of Cal's lipstick. He would never admit that, though, no matter how much evidence I come up with.) His nose is really cute. It's big but it's not. He always glares at me when I mention his nose. I don't get it, it's cute.

Nudging my shoulder with his head, it's clear he wants me to look at him. Look into his eyes. His pretty eyes. They're so green and beautiful. And they're always so kind.

Cal always makes fun of me when I say that. They think eyes can't show emotion. But they can. Mikey's can definitely show emotion. I know when he's happy, I know when he's tired, sad, angry, frustrated... Just by one look into his eyes. Or maybe I just think I know. Probably that.

"You're really pretty," I mumble, my own eyes trailing down his face.

He pouts, sitting up a bit. "Guys can't be pretty."

"Um, excuse me. Have you even seen Gerard Way, Mr. Emo?"

"I'm not 'emo'," he whines, trying to nuzzle his head into my neck. It tickles.

I roll my eyes at him, shoving his heavy head and arms off of my "Oh my god, why are they so broad and large and what the actual fuck?" shoulders. He doesn't let me though. He just clings onto me harder, whining into my ears. Sighing, I let him be. I like cuddles and so does he. Why should I ruin a nice and warm cuddle? We don't get enough of them, we need as much as we can get.

He hums softly for a bit until he starts shifting every so often. After five minutes of shuffling and groaning and lots of frowning, he finds himself a seat in my lap. Mikey raises his head, staring at me again.

"What?" I ask, trying to raise my eyebrows like Cal always does. I don't think I get it.

He giggles, raising his hands to mess with said eyebrows. His fingers poke my cheeks next. "I'm really gay."

"Hi Really Gay, I'm dad." His nose crinkles in annoyance. He should have expected it.

With slanted eyes, he frowns at me. "Really? A dad joke?"

I lean in, whispering, "But you can call me 'Daddy'."

"I thought you didn't like kinky sex," Michael says. "Or any sex, for that matter."

I shrug. "I don't."

The front door slams closed, revealing Ash and Cal. The short boy scurries down the hall, causing curious eyes to follow. Cal stands in front of the door, two of the bags still in their hands. The others lay by their feet where Ash left them.

"Well, that was weird," Cal finally speaks, moving toward the kitchen to set down their bags.

I nod in agreement, still eyeing the path the curly boy rushed down. Sighing, I push Mikey away. I make sure to kiss him on his hair covered forehead before I really get up, off the couch. He always gets moody when you leave him in silence, so I add a hushed "love you", which he quickly returns.

"I love you more." Winking, he curls back into the couch, laying his head on where I was just sitting.

Cal pokes their head through the doorway of where the kitchen meets the living room, where they're currently putting the "condoms and milk" away. With a challenging smirk, they say, "Love you most."

"Love you moster!" Michael shouts toward them. He took the bait.

"Mostest!"

"Mostester!"

"Mostesterester-um, wait. Crap, no," Cal groans, realizing they messed up.

"Ha! I win," Mikey does a little victory dance with his hands on the couch, resulting Cal to throw a box of cereal at him. It looks like a generic brand of Cheerios. I bet they made sure not to throw their precious Krave.

Idiots.

I slowly recede into the hall, leaving those two still arguing about their love for me. Or maybe it was for each other. Maybe even cereal.

All of the doors are closed besides the one to the toilet. It's slightly open, letting some light come in to the otherwise pitch black hallway. Weird. Ash usually locks it.

Pushing it more open, I see him sitting on the closed toilet seat. He's holding something.

"That's-that's not a tampon."

Ash looks up, eyes wide as if he was a teenager again, getting caught wearing a makeshift binder by his dad. He looks ashamed, just like I picture his sixteen year old self would be with his glaring father blocking his only way out. His cheeks are a flushed red, his eyes are bloodshot. When he moves his hand, I can finally see what it says.

"Positive, Luke. Positive." His voice cracks.

And I know his heart did, too.