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"Are you sure you're okay?" Ashton nodded with bright eyes. "Positive?" Michael petted his unofficial-boyfriend's hair worriedly.
"I'm fine," Ashton giggled, hugging Michael reassuringly. The two boys were in Ash's flat, the temperature icily cold. Their limbs were tangled, with Ashton's head on Michael's chest, tan arms circling his waist. Mikey had his arms wrapped around the blonde, one small hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder.
Ashton liked how Michael felt against him. His hips were soft and he had a squishy tummy that the older boy couldn't help but trace patterns across. He could sense how self-conscious Mikey was, refusing to remove his shirt even though Ashton did. The blonde made sure to drop fond kisses across his shoulders to reassure the beautiful boy.
Michael liked having Ashton in his arms. The shorter boy's lips were soft on his neck and chest, and his fingers on Mikey's skin sent pleasant shivers through him. His hair was fluffy and the curls looped around Michael's small fingers comfortingly.
But their relationship had its downfalls. Ashton was shivering, his entire body covered in goosebumps and teeth chattering. Michael had an uncomfortable heat sizzling under his skin, the side effects of spending so much time around such a warm soul. But the boys didn't care.
"I love you," Michael murmured, loving the taste of the words in his mouth.
"I love you, too," Ashton responded, kissing across his companion's pale chest. They made easy conversation, learning every little thing about each other. "Are we dating?" Ashton asked suddenly, looking up with unsure eyes. He looked like an awkward teenager, dating another, normal teenager. Michael immediately felt bad.
"I would love to date you, Ashy. But I don't want to keep you away from your life. You have friends, your own cafe. All I have is some snow and ice and you, Ashton, and you're all I care about. And because of that, I can't let you give up everything for me. I'm selfish, Ash, and if we date... well, I'm not good at sharing. I'm sorry, angel-bean."
Ashton kissed Michael gently, slowly, and sweetly. "Then we won't date," he decided. "You won't be my boyfriend, you'll be my kitten." Michael smiled, absentmindedly licking his kiss-bitten lips.
"And you're my angel," he said, hugging Ashton tightly. "You're a sap," the white-haired boy chuckled, but his voice was fond.
Ashton rolled over to connect his mouth with Michael's, kissing passionately and lovingly. The heat under Mikey's pale skin grew, sizzling with more ferocity, but the primordial being ignored it. His tongue melded with his angel's, Ashton's large hands gripping Michael's black shirt. White hot flames seemed to be burning Jack Frost from his lungs to the light layer of hair on his skin, from his snowy tresses to his coal black shoes.
"Ah," Michael groaned, tugging away from Ashton and smacking against his bed. "Ow," he whimpered, clawing at his skin and breathing weakly. It felt like the literal sun was exploding in his gut, burning up in a fiery blast. The ice in Michael's heart couldn't melt, and instead fled, away from the flame and against his heart. "Unh!" Michael shrieked, jolting violently and panting heavily.
"Mikey!" Ashton panicked, gripping his kitten's arm and trying to figure out a way to soothe the whimpering boy.
"Jack... Frost... can't... heat," Michael stammered, rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a thud. He stumbled towards the window, managing a pained "sorry!" as he threw himself outside, tears of ice and snow ripping across his cheeks. Ashton stared worriedly after his kitten, but Michael was gone for that moment.
The minute Jack Frost was outside, snow dulled the fire. He flew with ice streaming from his emerald eyes and weak sobs escaping his pretty mouth. Ashton's warm soul had been too much for Jack Frost. His insides slowly returned to bone and flesh instead of flames, and Michael let out a heavy sigh of relief. The pain was gone and he could finally think straight.
Ashton, his mind immediately screamed, and Michael's head hurt, as if his brain was trying to abandon ship and go join the amazing boy. But it couldn't. Michael couldn't see Ashton, not in a physical form. The patchy burns across his arms and chest proved that. Pale skin was contorted into a muddled mess of blood. It looked like someone had dipped Michael in fire and then tried to scoop out his blood with a spork. The boy didn't care. He flew towards Ashton's flat, towards the rectangular window of his bedroom.
The beautiful blonde was sprawled out on his bed, staring at the roof with sad, worried eyes. Plastic stars seemed to be taunting him, telling Ashton that a plastic, fake version of something beautiful was all he'd ever get. It was Ashton had ever had; the knockoff of his dreams, the parody of the life he wanted. That was until he met Michael. Michael was genuine, a knockoff of the beautiful boy didn't exist. And now he was gone, out the window with whimpers of pain.
Ashton wanted to cry. He felt helpless and clueless. It reminded of Ashton of being in a wave pool at age seven. He'd gotten separated from his family, filling him with the panic of getting lost in the mall, but it'd only gotten worse. A laughing teenager on a huge yellow tube rode a wave backwards, smashing over Ashton. He'd been left underwater, head aching, water up his nose and lungs aching for oxygen. The frightened child didn't know where to swim, he couldn't tell up from sideways, and the pool was deep. He could be swimming for the floor and wouldn't know it.
On that day, a lifeguard had leaped in and saved him, but now? Ashton was alone, and the only one who could pull his head above water was Michael. Ashton started to sob. He'd become so reliant on Michael in such a short time, and now the primordial being was gone.
Except he wasn't. Mikey was desperately drawing messages with frost across his angel's window, pelting the thick glass with hail in an attempt to gain the sorrowing teenager's attention. It seemed to take hours, but finally, finally, Ashton looked up. His teary eyes were met with something written in a beautiful, sparkling white.
It's okay, angel-bean. Ashton let out a cry of relief. The message faded, soon replaced by a second. I'm here. I love you.
