Broken Home // mashton

chapter thirteen

Michael laughed as he ran after Ashton, the streets of their city nothing but their's for the moment. The air was cold, crisp, typical for nearing autumn, but it felt good against his skin as it rolled his shirt up and blew his hoodie behind him. He felt like a superhero, like he was flying, and it felt like a good end to a bad day.

"Bet you can't beat me." Ashton teased and Michael narrowed his eyes at him. "Slow poke."

"Care to put your money where your mouth is?" Michael pushed and the blond grinned before pulling his hoodie higher up his head. "What do I get if I win?"

"Come find out."

Michael smiled and then dug his feet harder into the cement before pushing himself to run faster and to catch up with him. It wasn't fair, Ashton was already a good distance ahead of him and he had no idea how far they would be sprinting, but he didn't care. All he was focused on was greatening the distance between him and his damned house filled with nothing but ghosts of people he used to know, memories of moments he could never get back.

When he was close enough, he grabbed Ashton's sleeve and the boy turned around while gasping. Michael pulled him to his body, and they laughed when their feet tumbled and tripped against one another's. They lost their balance, bodies colliding against the wall of a building, and even the spike of pain running through his shoulder wasn't enough to dampen his mood as Ashton held on to him for dear life.

His hands were gripping his sweater tightly, their legs tangled and his head on his chest. Breathless, broken into hysterics, and feeling like nothing could stop them from having the times of their lives, this was definitely a night they'd remember.

"I won." Michael told him and Ashton looked up at him.

Michael held the cheek that wasn't bruised, and Ashton smiled at him as he tried straightening his composure. "I guess you did, even if you cheated."

"Me? A cheater?" He mused and Ashton pushed their lips together. "Never." He whispered.

Ashton wrapped his arms beneath the fabric of his hoodie by his ribs, and Michael moved his free hand around his narrow waist, fingers delving into the back pocket of his black jeans. Ashton's lips were chapped, kind of dry and maybe bitten raw, but it didn't lessen his need to feel them pressed so tightly against his. He tasted like blood and remnants of mint toothpaste, and he felt the other's teeth bite down on his bottom lip gently to tug to to him.

"I could kiss you forever." Michael told him when he released his lip, and Ashton smirked.

"Now now," he whispered. "- don't threaten me with a good time."

Michael tilted his head to examine the bruise on the left side of his face, and Ashton nodded at him. "I wrestled a bear. Absolute unit, he was." He joked, and Michael couldn't help but chuckle. "Got one good hit on me, yeah? Next time, I'll win for sure."

He nodded and Ashton pulled away from him as his hood fell. "There's a drug store up ahead, and I'm starving." He told him and Michael rose an eyebrow.

"You didn't eat dinner?"

"I wrestled a bear," he reminded and Michael frowned at his cavalier attitude. "- I was preoccupied. Come on, I want ice cream and chips."

He followed him to a lit up store at the corner of the street, even running through the last six seconds of pedestrian light with adrenaline and anxiety flowing through his veins. He had sweat pooling down his forehead from all the running, and he took his hoodie off as he walked through the door, making Ashton stop to admire him.

"What?" He asked as he felt his cheeks heat up underneath his gaze as the few people around them stared.

"You're hot, like... really fucking hot." Ashton pointed out, and Michael covered his face with his arm as he looked away. "Do you like fudge? I think I want fudge, but caramel is good too."

"I-I don't mind any." He answered and Ashton leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"Fag." Someone whispered and Michael turned to look around to see who it could have been.

"Yeah?" He called, and his eyes met with a middle aged woman dressed in crocs and sweatpants. "Were you talking to us?"

"Yeah, have a problem with my freedom of speech?" She mouthed, eyes wide and pupils blown equally as large. She reeked of booze, and he assumed the bandage on her arm wasn't from a doctor's visit.

"No," Ashton answered and Michael looked at him. "- we don't. Let's go."

"Have a wonderful night," Michael said to the woman. "- and get some sleep. You need all the beauty rest you can get."

Ashton yanked his arm before they took off running to the freezer aisle, and the blind looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you fucking insane?" He hissed and Michael shrugged.

"Maybe just a little." He whispered as he watched the boy's smile begin to tug on his lips. "You give me this confidence, and I... I like having that kind of power."

"Oh yeah?" He asked and Michael nodded. "Well, you make me feel... normal."

He tan his hand through Ashton's curls, and grinned when he saw his hazel eyes clearly. "The night is young. Have you decided what ice cream you want?" He asked and Ashton looked at the buckets.

"I'm allergic to peanuts, and I'm lactose intolerant." He replied before tugging the fridge open. "Death via..." He grabbed a random tub. "- Snicker's ice cream?"

Michael grabbed it from his hand instantly. "No."

"Reese's?"

He took that one too. "Stop."

"Ah! This one." He grinned and held up the small, single serving cup. "Nutella."

"You're not getting ice cream at all if you keep grabbing the ones that can kill you." Michael replied and he pouted before reaching for one that was made from coconut milk and flavored chocolate mocha. "Is there nuts in it?"

"Says allergen free, better?" Ashton teased and Michael put the tubs in his arms back before closing the freezer. "You alright there, mom?"

"I'm not gonna let you kill yourself with ice cream." Michael scoffed before leading Ashton to the snack aisle for his chips. He immediately reached for a trail mix. "I said no."

"Dammit." He whispered and Michael watched as he sighed. "Alright, fine, want anything?"

"You not wanting to kill yourself with snacks?" He tried, making the other laugh loudly.

"Ah, Michael," he mused before handing him a bag of Cheetos and taking a bag of baked Lays for himself. "- you and I both."

Michael saw red lights flashing above his head as he turned away. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?