P.T.S.D |mashton

Loving Touches And Soft Kisses

[A/N: Okay so I randomly changed the point of view for some odd reason, so I'm going to continue writing the rest of the story in third person of view, sorry for the sudden change :)]

There really weren't any words at all to describe the feelings bubbling up in the boys stomach, he couldn't feel the beating of his own heart, it was as if it were frozen in place and there was nothing he could do to make it beat again. His stomach felt empty, growling as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, his head completely focused on the task at hand.

The bed sheets beneath the body were soaked in blood, completely tattered and stained with a red substance that the boy probably wouldn't be able to get out, he'd end up throwing the sheets away and scrubbing the mattress until his fingers looked like prunes.

The boys shaking hands held onto a pair of tweezers, the cool metal feeling like ice against his sensitive skin as he picked glass shards out of the bloody arm lying lifeless on his blood soaked sheets. The blood in the large gash almost made it impossible to see the glass in the wound, Michael continuously wiped the blood away but there was simply too much gushing out of the wound. The faux red head took in a deep breath as he moved his lamp closer and focused on getting every last piece of glass out of the boys arm. He dropped the glass remains into a small clear bowl that was a quarter full of blood and glass shards.

Michael sighed as he got up from his seat beside the bed, dropping the tweezers in the bowl before picking it up and walking to the bathroom. He placed it on the sink, careful not to drop any glass anywhere as he put the entire bowl in a grocery store bag and tied it before putting it in the trash can. He washed his hands, being cautious to not cut himself on any glass remains that could have stuck on his hands. Michael dried his hands on his sweater as he turned out the bathroom light and walked back to his room. The boy on his bed was deeply unconscious, his arms still leaking onto his bed sheets.

Ashton looked strangely peaceful as opposed to the bloody mess his arm was creating. Michael grabbed the gauze wrapping and carefully picked Ashton's arm up, wiping away excess blood before wrapping the gauze around it and tying it off. Michael sat on the chair beside the bed and brushed stray hairs away from Ashton's face, the pale boy would smile every time his sweater sleeve brushed the others boy's nose and it twitched.

Michael couldn't quite pin point the exact moment this day took a turn for the weird, but all he knew was that Ashton was lying on his bed unconscious with a large gash stretching from his inner elbow to an inch or two above his wrist.

"Mikey?" Michael looked down, his green eyes instantly meeting a pair of hazel orbs. The pale boy smiled as he brushed his fingers over the tan boys cheek.

"I'm here" he said. Ashton groaned as he tried to use his arms to sit himself up, putting pressure on his wound only resulted in his arm giving out and his head hitting the pillow again.

"Be careful" Michael scolded with an angry expression that Ashton only found adorable. The younger wrapped his arms around Ashton and helped him sit up on the bed, moving his legs so they were hanging off of the edge. The elder stared down at his hurt arm, running his fingers over the bandaged body part with furrowed eyebrows as he tried to piece together what had happened before he blacked out. Michael caught his attention as he placed his pale hand over Ashton's. Ashton looked up, his eyes meeting Michael's curious emerald orbs.

"I have P.T.S.D" Ashton blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth as he bit his tongue to prevent anything else from spilling out. Michael's head snapped up as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes shimmering in the moonlight that spilled through the open curtains. Ashton stared at the boy, his eyes scanning over his curious expression for any signs of what he could be thinking.

"What?" Michael finally croaked out. Ashton dropped his hand from his mouth, instead placing it on top of Michael's knee. Ashton rubbed circles into the confused boys inner thigh with his thumb.

"Six years ago something... tragic happened to me and from that I developed P.T.S.D" Ashton vaguely explained.

"What happened?" Michael asked softly.

"I don't want to talk about it" Ashton mumbled, looking down at his hand where it rested on Michael's lap.

"Well how bad is it?" the younger asked.

"I get flashbacks sometimes, it's kind of like zoning out while basically reliving a memory. I get nightmares often and I can get very agitated at times" the hazel eyed boy explained in a quiet tone. Maybe it was fear that Michael would judge him that made him hold back on the information he was providing, but Michael was the only light in his life and he wasn't ready to let his dark history dim that.

"Is that why you got so upset in the woods?" Michael asked. Ashton nodded, his eyes fixated on his thumb as he rubbed it over Michael's thigh.

"Ashton" the tan boy glanced up at the boy who held a small warm smile. Michael took Ashton's hands and gently pulled him up until he was standing. Ashton watched the pale boy as he guided the tan boy to sit in his computer chair. The pale boy stripped the bloody sheets from his bed and replaced them with clean white sheets and a new duvet that he grabbed from the guest bedroom.

"You're not kicking me out?" Ashton asked as Michael replaced the pillowed with the ones also from the guest bedroom.

"Why would I do that?" Michael asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"P.T.S.D can be dangerous Michael. I could have a flashback and attack you or something" Ashton explained, Michael smiled at how soft the tan boys voice was. He was speaking of such a tragic event that could occur yet his voice was so gentle and nothing above a whisper. The pale boy padded towards the tan boy until he was directly in front of him, taking the boys larger hands in his own small ones. Ashton wanted to protest and just leave the boy and never see him again, but every bone in his body was frozen in place as the younger boy stared up at him. For once in six years Ashton is actually concerned and worried that he could possibly hurt the pale boy. Michael was fragile and Ashton was... troubled.

Yet any fear washed away from Ashton as Michael wrapped his pale arms around his neck and buried his face in his chest. The elder practically melted into the touch, wrapping his arms around the shorter boys waist and bringing him closer.

"I trust you" Michael whispered into the material of Ashton's shirt. And those three words alone made Ashton so comfortable being with Michael that it actually scared him.

Michael unwrapped himself from the tan boy and walked over to his bed, pulling the fresh covers back and climbing in. He gestured for Ashton to do the same, so the tan boy did. He stripped himself of his shirt and pants so he was left in his boxers before climbing into Michael's bed and lying beside him.

Ashton mentally said 'fuck it' as he dug him arm under Michaels head and cuddled the pale boy into his side. Michael smiled small as he wrapped his arms around Ashton's waist and buried his head in the elders neck. Ashton sighed contently as ran his fingers through the pale boys fire red hair.

"You make it all better" Michael whispered, placing a kiss to Ashton's tan chest. Ashton couldn't take it anymore, his head was swarming with thoughts of Michael, the pale boy was invading Ashton's every sense. So the tan boy shoved the pale off of him, ignoring Michael's confused expression as he leaned down and captured the pale boys lips in his own.

Michael gasped lightly, his eyes fluttering shut as he wrapped his arms around Ashton's neck. Ashton licked into the boys mouth the taste of mint filling his mouth as Michael's tongue met his own. Loving touches and soft kisses were exchanged for hours as the boys lied in Michael's bed and spoke in hushed whispered for the rest of the night, Ashton reveled in the small giggles Michael would produce when he pressed kisses to his neck. And for once Ashton wasn't scared or emotionless, he was content.