the sound, settle down [mashton af]

// n i n e //

There's so much skin to see/ A simple Epicurean Philosophy

The first Thursday of October came around, leaves began to turn and the air brewed cold. Ashton showed up around Michael's house a little after 6pm, knowing everyone would be home.

Mike heard the doorbell ring, surprised at the sound. First of all, he didn't realize they had a doorbell. Second of all, they weren't expecting anyone.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Michael asked Timothy as he got up from their dining room table.

Tim looked up from his phone, just as confused. "I don't think so."

Mike rounded the hallway corner, peeping through the glass windows to see Ashton staring at his feet. He muttered out a quick, "Oh, fuck," before unlocking their front door.

"Hey," he shoved his hands into his light jacket, his eyes shining up at Michael.

"Were we supposed to do something tonight?" Mike didn't move over, he didn't let Ashton come into their foyer.

Ashton shook his head as he tried to get back into character. He had to look defenseless, he had to have Michael pitying him. Michael pitied everyone. "I—uh," he paused, "This is kind of embarrassing."

Mike leant against his front door, trying to stay firm. A few seconds passed before he spoke up, "My dinner is getting cold, Ashton."

"I need money," he said quietly, looking back down towards his faded, ripped up Vans. "Rent is tomorrow and something didn't work out."
Mike sighed. He could feel his heart tearing just thinking about not helping Ashton out. "Give me a second," he said, closing the door again. Michael opened it up a second later, "Come in."

Ashton stood in the foyer, trying not to drag mud in, as he watched Michael disappear.

Michael remembers how scary rent was. He remembers being in college with a family and having to work nights to make everything work. Ashton worked here and there but it was never enough to help out.

Mike opened up his wallet, making sure he had a few hundreds to help the brunette. He walked back into the front, not saying a word to his son.

He took out the money in front of Ashton, folding it and sliding it into the palm of his hand. "This money goes towards rent, okay?"

Ash's mouth was watering as he felt the bills in his hands. He thought that he had Michael wrapped around his finger, but maybe Michael had him around his finger. Maybe money had Ashton wrapped around its finger, though.

Ashton wasn't materialistic, he was just money-motivated. Not even motivated. He just liked money, and he liked having money.

"Yes," he responded, keeping a straight face. Ashton didn't need help with rent, he simply wanted to test his waters, see how far he could go.

Timothy peaked his head out from the hallway after waiting a few minutes. He thought it was Ashton's voice, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

Michael turned around when Ashton's eyes fell behind him. "I'll be back in a second," he told his son. He turned back towards Ash, trying to give him the hint to leave.

Tim came over, standing next to his father and smiling up at Ashton. "Ashton should join us for dinner, we just started."

"No, no, it's fine." Ashton put his big, brown, pathetic eyes back on, blinking a few times at his ex-lover.

Michael sighed. "It's fine. You should stay, enjoy the meal with us, I guess." He could physically feel his own shoulders collapse in defeat as he led him to their kitchen table, pulling out a plate for him.

Ashton sat next to Michael, directly facing Timothy. He admired the son that had his genetics, smiling when he wasn't looking.

Mike and Tim carried out a conversation, Ashton simply watching the two react.

Ashton didn't lose full custody until Timothy was about seven. There was a solid few years when Ashton was neither here nor there, simply somewhere in between.

It took a lot for Michael to send in that request to rid him of his rights. He would always, always, always love Ashton. He wasn't there when Ashton got the forms telling him he had no right to his son, but Michael sometimes thinks about it.

What was Ashton doing when he read those papers? What was he feeling? Was he angry?

Being a lawyer, Michael knows a lot of people hate him. He hates that people hate him, though. He wants to be the good guy in ever situation, but good people don't go places in life.

Ashton spent the night in Michael's bed.

(Epicureanism is a system of philosophy based upon the teachings of the ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus, founded around 307 BC. Epicurus was an atomic materialist, following in the steps of Democritus. His materialism led him to a general attack on superstition and divine intervention.)

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