I Wish You Liked Boys // cashton

chapter two

Ashton was antsy the entire week after. He hasn't had a cigarette since he made Michael take both of their packs and promise to not let them buy anymore. His leg was bouncing every moment he got, and his nails were in his mouth whether they were clean or not. He was eating bag after bag of potato chips, and if he was counting, he'd say that the man finished maybe six fun sized pouches.

"You can have a cigarette, Ash." Calum told him, but he shook his head. He was always so stubborn.

"No, we're in this together."

Fuck.

Calum held his chest as he felt a sharp pain beneath his skin on the right side of his chest, and he watched as his best friend pulled his phone out. He was distracting himself. Twitter and Youtube were some of the few ways he used to busy his mind to think of something other than what he was trying to avoid. And when he was laughing and tapping like crazy on the screen, he realized he must have found something to help him.

He smiled sadly at the man and then looked into the bag of chips beside him. Ashton cleared it out minutes ago, now all that was in there is lavender flower petals. Every now and then after getting lost in his daydreams, he'd have to spit one up. Sometimes he'd cough up a handful, but that was only when Ashton was the only thing he could think about. Usually he was, which hurt him more than he'd like to admit both physically and mentally.

He coughed into his fist again and then looked beside him as he heard a door open from behind him. "You're the one who ate all my chips?" He heard Michael's familiar voice ask and he looked behind him, finding that the blond looked beyond upset. He must be in one of his tour moods. He must be homesick.

"Yeah, sorry, bro." He apologized, feeling Ashton's eyes on him as the older man groaned in agitation. "Cravings, ya'know?"

"Yeah, and that's exactly why I had them hidden in my bunk! Now I remember why we stay in hotels now, being stuck in this tourbus with you is annoying!" He huffed as he crossed his arms. "Can't you buy your own damn snacks?"

"Sorry." He apologized again as he looked at the bag beside him. "This no smoking thing is killing me."

"It's killing Ashton too, but you don't see him sneaking into people's bunks and stealing their shit." Michael scoffed as he picked the bag off the table and then stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him almost instantly.

"You didn't have to do that for me." Ashton told him and he looked over at his best friend. God, the look of disbelief and gratefulness on his face made Calum's heart swell.

He took a deep breath as he felt a dull ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat as he shrugged. "I-It's nothing. I know the last thing you need is Michael's mood swings right now." He murmured as he looked down at the table.

"It's just a bag. If he can buy his thousand dollar rings, he can buy another four dollar bag of chips." Ashton snorted and Calum clamped a hand over his mouth as he felt it creeping up his throat.

"I'm gonna go get some drinks. All these chips made me thirsty. Want anything while I'm up?" He asked and Calum watched as he stood up and approached the door.

That shirt looked familiar to him...

"Water." He rushed and Ashton nodded as he pulled the door open and walked out. Calum felt his face burn when he saw the logo and text sprawled on the back.

Oh God, that is his shirt.

He buried his face into his arms as an involuntary smile pulled on his lips and then coughed into the sleeves of his sweater, finding that alongside the vibrant petals he's grown used to seeing was splotches of red. He smacked his lips together and swallowed back the looming coughing fit he knew was coming before turning to the door with sad eyes. The metallic taste of blood was in his mouth, and as much as he didn't want to die, he didn't want to forget about the greatest love he's ever known.

Even if Ashton doesn't feel the same about him, no one's loved him the way Ashton did. Ashton saw him as a brother, he saw the need to protect him in a way his own sister couldn't. He also didn't have a father, so he felt the need to be a parent to him when they left home so long ago at high schooling ages. He also was his best friend, and never let him get sucked into fame or roped into doped up celebrity parties the way he knew he'd get hooked to.

Maybe sixteen Calum couldn't distinguish why he thought eighteen year old Ashton was hot with a face full of pimples and a fringe, and it only blossomed from there. Maybe his curls were more than cute, his bandanas were more than just hot, and his oversized flannel stage made him look like his own wet dream.

Calum doesn't know how he fell in love with Ashton, but he knows that he's fallen and he just keeps falling. Every laugh, every smile, every little thing that never used to hurt him feels like splinters in his chest. He's falling deeper and deeper into his grave for his best friend, but no one will catch him. No one can save him from this.

Well one person can, but that person wouldn't give up the greatest love he's ever known just for him. Not when he doesn't feel the same way.

Calum doesn't feel it when Ashton walks into the room, but his eyes become wide as saucers as he immediately licks his finger and wipes it just beneath his bottom lip. "You're bleeding." He told him and Calum shrugged.

"Bit my lip."

He lied. He's always lying now, but as much as it hurts to lie to him, it feels better than telling the truth and being rejected, or outcasted, ir belittled.

So he keeps lying. And Ashton keeps believing.

"Be careful." He told him. "I know this is hard, but we can do this together."

And if a whole flower comes from Calum's throat that night in the bathroom as the others watch some scary movie on full blast, no one has to know.