❝HONEY❞
❚chapter ten; cry❚
MICHAEL PRESSED the 'up' button to the elevator. He tapped a beat on his thigh while he waited for the frustratingly slow machine to arrive in the lobby and pick him up. Michael waited for what felt like hours, but was only about a minute and a half in reality.
As the reflective metal doors slid open to reveal an almost empty room - apart from one girl.
Tall, a few inches shorter than Michael. Her hair was straight and black, a startling contrast between her pale skin.
Michael swayed in, his lip between his bottom teeth as he pressed the button with '13' printed in faded black numbers.
Michael leaned against the wall to the side of the girl, his eyes burning holes into her as he crossed his arms. Michael couldn't help but stare, she was dressed in a white sweater and black legging that clung to her legs, showing off her assets.
"Would you please stop staring at me like I'm a piece of meat?" The girl dead panned.
"It's not my fault you look hot." Michael shrugged, giving her an innocent smile as she glared at him.
"That doesn't give you the righto drool over me like a pathetic man who can't control his dick." She snarled.
"You're bitchy attitude is turning me on." Michael raised his eyebrow, walking over to her.
"Take one more step and I'm spraying mace in your eyes." She turned to him.
"That's kind of kinky." Michael mocked. He knew he was pushing it, but he couldn't resist his asshole urges.
The elevator stopped, at what Michael assumed to be her destination.
"Fuck you!" She yelled, slapping Michael hard across the face before storming out.
Michael clutched his reddening cheek in his hand. Michael was extremely turned on, something about a girl with an attitude got him going.
It felt like only a second or two before the doors slid open and it was time for Michael to walk out.
A smile was still on his face as he knocked on door 1402.
"Hey -!" Ashton excitedly chirped as he opened the door, but then saw Michael and was utterly confused.
"Why is there a handprint on your face, and - dude why the fuck are you hard?"
Michaels face was now the same color as the handprint on his cheek as he glanced down at his strained jeans.
"Uh, long story? I'll explain it when I get inside." Michael glanced around, making sure no one was around to question why Michael Clifford was hard at Ashton Irwins apartment door.
Ashton chuckled, opening the door enough for Michael to slip inside.
"So, explain to me what happened." Ashton laughed, sitting down on his small brown couch, Michael following after.
"So you know how I get hard from being slapped?"
-
Ashton laughed loudly as Michael finished his story.
"You are such an asshole!" He chuckled.
"I know." Michael said proudly. Michael was happy with the way he was and how he acted, even if he was sexually harassing women half the time.
"Do you want to order pizza?" Ashton asked, grabbing his phone off of the wooden coffee table in front of him.
"Do I have to answer that?" Michael laughed, grabbing a game controller and kicking his feet up.
