P.T.S.D |mashton

Red Flag Number Four

"Get up you lazy piece of shit" the man grumbled, startling Michael awake. The poor pale boy jumped into a sitting position, confusion written all over his face as he stared up at his stepfather. The confusion was soon replaced by fear as Michael looked down at the empty alcoholic beverage in his stepfathers grasp. Ashton could see Michael gulp as he cautiously moved up the bed so his back was against the headboard.

"Yes?" Michael whimpered slightly.

"What the fuck do you do all day? Just sit in your fucking room and jack off?" his step father spat, quit literally, in Michaels face, which did not at all sit well with Ashton. Half of the tan boys foot was out of the doorway as Michael's step-father kept getting closer and closer to him. Ashton's nails dug into the wood of the doorframe, his knuckles turning white again as he watched the man intently, daring him with his mind to make a move.

"N-no. I-I-I was ab-about to- to do my h-homework" Michael stuttered terribly as his stepfather crawled onto his bed, letting the empty glass bottle to the hardwood floor, just soft enough for it not to break. The man had a sick look in his eye as he grazed his fingers against Michaels cheek.

"Mhmm" the man hummed as Michael whimpered, feverishly looking around the room. Just as his step father had his lips hovering above his chest, Ashton bursts through the bathroom doors and wastes no time in striding towards Michael's bed and gripping the collar of the oldest mans shirt. Ashton yanked the man off of Michael, letting him land on the floor with a loud thud.

Something changed

Something snapped.

Every possible trace of anger and frustration came pouring out of Ashton as he straddled the man and started pounding against his face and chest with his fists. Michael sat on his bed with wide, teary eyes as he tried so hard to stop shaking and finally process what was happening. He was still hazy with the effects of sleep, in shock that his step father was probably about to try and fuck him, and his kind-of-boyfriend was slamming his fists against the drunk man who was limply laying on the ground simply taking the blows.

But Ashton was not stopping, nor slowing down, and that scared Michael to no extent. Everything had been so calm and perfect, the occasional nightmare would strike but nothing like this. Ashton was scowling and grunting as blood flew from the face of the man beneath him. Michael's heart was pounding and all he could hear was the collision of Ashton's hard fist to his step fathers face.

"Ash-Ashton stop" Michael screamed when he finally came back to reality. The pale boy jumped up from the bed and stood a few paces behind the tan boy.

"A-A-Ashton that's enough! A-Ashton" with wide eyes and tears falling down his cheeks Michael placed his hands on Ashtons shoulders and desperately tried to pry the boy off. Michael gasped when Ashton roughly jerked his hand back, making it collide with the pale boys cheek. Michael lost his balance in the shock, falling against his computer desk chair, making it slip and fall to its side as the boy fell to the ground. Ashton stared at Michael with a scowl, his chest heaving up and down and he clenched and unclenched his fists. There was a beautiful pale boy lying on the floor with his hand cradling his tear stained, red flushed cheek and Ashton hated that he caused that. All he wanted and all he was trying to do was protect Michael but he only brought him more pain. Ashton had actual feelings for Michael and he was so caught up in the realization that he wasn't numb that he didn't even realize he was only burdening Michael. At least that's what his mind is making him believe.

Ashton pushed himself up from the floor and slowly tried to approach Michael. The pale boy cowered in fear, whimpering and crawling away from the tan boy.

"Baby I-"

"Just go" Michael cut Ashton off with with a barely audible sob. Michael desperatly tried not to look at Ashton becuase he knew sorrow and guilt was written all over his face. Ashton was panting still as he flexed his fingers and ran a hand through his hair. Covered in blood and sweat the tan boy made his way for the door, leaving behind a bloody print as he turned the knob and left. Michael's mum wasn't home just yet so the older man just walked out of the front door and began his journey to the woods.

Ashton was trying to protect Michael becuase Michael was his beautiful baby. Ashton had learned the taste of Michael mouth when he'd just woken up; a bitter mint taste with the hint of milk becuase he sometimes gets warm milk when he can't sleep. Ashton had mapped out Michael mouth with his tongue, the smoothness of the roof of his mouth and the sweet fruity taste that always lingered from his case of mints. Ashton had kissed and licked every dip and curve of the pale boy, he knew his body and his mind like the back of his hands.

But Ashton was angry. There was anger always waiting to be released when someone tested him. With Michael in his life Ashton could feel again, he had emotion but with that emotion came a bond like none other. Ashton was protective and when he was it was scary.

He had beaten Michael's step father until his face was a bloody, unidentifiable mess, and his body was a limp drunken figure on the ground.

Red flag number four.