5 Seconds of Summer BoyXBoy one-shots

Everything but Me // Mashton

~ So needless to say thing have not worked out as I planned for them to. Work has been overwhelming and I haven't had the energy to write as much as I've wanted to, but things are starting to slow down now and hopefully I'll get my flow back before I go back to uni. 

Anyways, yeah, I didn't know how to end this so it is what it is. I hope you guys are having an amazing summer and that you're staying safe! xx M ~ 

Day 8

Standing out against the white wall, the dark blue suitcase almost seems to be screaming at him to get up and unpack it, to empty it out and put it in the back of the wardrobe. It has been screaming at him for the past week, ever since he first came here, but up until now Ashton hasn't wanted to move at all, especially not to unpack. In his mind, taking his clothes out of the suitcase where they have spent so much time over the past years and putting them in the wardrobe means that he really is here to stay. With the clothes in the case, it feels like he could just get up and leave, like this is temporary.

He knows better, of course. He knows he won't be able to leave for a long time. He knows he needs to stay here until he's better. He doesn't want to, he didn't want to go when they first told him about it and now that he has been here for a week he still does not want to be here, but he is. They have urged him to unpack for days now, told him that he would be able to focus more on getting better if he didn't have the suitcase staring at him from across the room, but he has been refusing to listen, not wanting to be wrong.

Today, there is something about the suitcase that just keeps drawing his attention to it, even as he's sitting with his back to it trying to read. He's turning around so often he's pretty sure his neck will hurt in a few hours, and them he finally decides that he might as well unpack it. Not to accept that he's here now, but to get the suitcase out of the way. After all, he might trip over it and hurt himself.

He gets up half an hour later, having finally decided that he won't get anywhere with his book unless he deals with his clothes first, and heads over to sit down on the floor next to the suitcase. Opening it up, he sits there staring at the clothes for a while, remembering sitting on his bed back home, in the apartment they had shared for three years, watching Michael carefully fold the shirts and trousers and place them in the suitcase. It was so quiet that night, almost as quiet as it is in his room right now, with no music filling the silence between them like it usually did, and he could hear every ragged breath escaping Michael's lips.

The younger man was sitting so that he was facing half away from him, but Ashton didn't have to see the tears in Michael's eyes to know that he was crying. He could sense it, could almost feel it. But he didn't say anything about it, he didn't dare to try and comfort Michael because part of him knew that if he did, they'd both break. Instead he just sat there, watching Michael methodically fold his worn-out band shirts and place them in the suitcase as if they were made out of glass. He fell asleep like that, sitting on the bed wrapped in a blanket a fan had given them at some point, and when he woke up hours later the place next to him on the bed was cold and untouched and Michael and his suitcase were nowhere to be seen. In the early morning light, the hand that reached out from under the blanket to check the time seemed so thin and skeleton-like that he couldn't help but cry, and it wasn't until half an hour later that he actually managed to climb out of bed.

He wrapped himself in the blanket before quietly making his way across the cold floor to the door leading out into the livingroom. In there, despite the big windows covering most of the wall across from him, it was almost completely dark and he had to stop for a little while and let his eyes get used to the darkness, but once they had his gaze immediately fell on the shape of Michael curled up in a chair by the window, his head resting on his arm as he slept. Not wanting to disturb the young man, Ashton headed over to the sofa opposite to Michael in his chair. He then stayed there, watching the shadows move over the other man's face as the first rays of light crept into the room, until an alarm went off somewhere nearby, waking Michael up and bringing Ashton back to reality. They then spent most of the morning in silence, both of them trying to somehow fight off the impending farewell, not wanting to admit just how close it was.