Michael absolutely hated suits. Anything that wasn't casual dress, he wanted to throw into the fiery pits of Hell to burn. He hated how tight they were, how he looked in them, how stiff they were. He looked like a dork when he wore them because he never particularly wanted to flatten his hair because he would look even dumber. That's how he ended up with a looser fitting suit jacket with a partially unbuttoned dress shirt underneath and his skinny jeans. He may be going to a fancy gala, but there was no way he was going to show up looking like he was plucked straight from the lineup of men from The Bachelor.
His bed was full of his various suits and dress shirts that his mum had bought him throughout the years. He didn't understand why he had so many still. There was never a time that he wore them, no matter the occasion. The fact was that Michael Clifford just looked terrible in a suit and he was going to go to all costs to wear something but - just like tonight. As he was making sure that his already styled blonde hair was still in tact and perfect, there was a knock on the door.
Michael hurried out, swinging the door open with a smile on his face that was soon replaced by a jaw drop as he looked at his fake boyfriend for the night. "Holy shit."
"Hello to you too," Ashton said, stepping into the apartment.
"You look good, Ash. How do you afford these clothes?" Michael asked, not being able to help but look at Ashton's ass.
"Escorting pays well," he turned around smirking.
Now Michael felt that he was under dressed compared to the suit that Ashton was wearing. It fit him so perfectly - like it was made for him. He was wearing a suit jacket with black studs on both the shoulders and the cuffs over a red and black checkerboard tight-fitting shirt. As Michael continued to look at the well dressed man, he did notice that he was too wearing skinny jeans paired with dress shoes, so Michael didn't feel as bad. But when Ashton's hair was fluffed and blow dried to perfection and Michael's was just gelled into his normal style.
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"I'm going to take out the trash now," Michael said, walking towards the door.
"Please, Michael. You are not trash. Let me help you pick something. I can assure you that what you're wearing doesn't even look like something you would wear," Ashton suggested, going down the hallway towards Michael's bedroom.
He let Ashton dig through his closet until he found something to his liking while also thoroughly judging Michael on his endless amount of band shirts and then also Pokemon shirts. There was also the silent judgement of the array of suits, but Ashton didn't say anything about it; he had just given them an odd look and went on with picking out something presentable for Michael to wear to a gala without looking like he was uncomfortable and forced to be there, even though, he technically was because of Luke.
After a few minutes of digging, Ashton pulled a few things out, only to throw them softly at the awaiting Michael. The blonde looked down at them, figuring that the outfit wasn't really gala appropriate, but neither was he.
