The two boys' shoulders slump a little further with the weight of their knowledge.
The wheels in Michael's head all the while are turning, turning, turning. She doesn't know his secret, but she must suspect something. Or maybe she only knows the fact that this situation really bothers Michael and that's why she pursues it so consistently. Either way, she's going to do everything in her power to use this against him.
He leaves the table that morning, not sure of anything.
• • •
Michael can hear Luke's laugh again. It's all he can hear and it's driving him insane. It's flooding his ears and fogging his brain.
Luke and Ashton have occupied the room directly below Michael, as if they're taunting him intentionally.
Michael cranks up the volume on his iPod, desperate to fend off their laughter. The notes of the current song all seem to crash and run together though, he simply cannot focus on it right now. Not with them beneath him.
A few minutes later, it goes quiet. He pulls out his headphones and listens, right as there's another knocking on his door. Ashton lets himself in.
Michael's heart falls hard and fast. A tiny part of him had hoped that things had changed since the last time, but apparently he was wrong. Ashton's still using him in the most selfish way.
He knows exactly what Ashton wants before he even has a chance to ask. "What do you want the poem to be about?" He sighs.
Ashton looks extremely sheepish and hesitant. "I.. I'm sorry to ask. It's just that he wants to see more of my- er 'my' work," he says, adding air quotes at the end.
Michael nods blankly. "What do you want it to be about?" He repeats.
"Something peaceful and short. And I need it quick; I told him I had to look for it."
"Got it."
Michael pulls out his notebook, pausing on the front cover. He skims his fingers over it, missing the time when this was only his, when his writing had never before been read. He sighs again and gets on with the poem.
This one's not difficult to start- he's written thousands like it. A few lines in, though, he starts thinking about what's going to happen to it as soon as he puts the final punctuation. He starts picturing it being handed over to Luke with a deceitful grin. Then his imagination carries on to Luke's response, whether it be a smile, a compliment, a kiss.
Michael's armor begins crumbling. The emotions that he had been able to successfully hold at bay so far are starting to seep through. His hand begins to shake.
He's about halfway done when his mind blanks completely. By now, the quivering has spread from his hand throughout his whole body.
"Michael..?" Ashton asks softly.
Michael looks up at his stepbrother with wide, misty eyes.
Ashton lets out all of his breath at once and comes to sit beside him. He doesn't waste a moment in pulling Michael into him. He surprises them both a little when he hugs him tightly.
Michael buries his face in Ashton's chest out of shame and misery. "I can't write this," he croaks into the fabric of his shirt.
"I.. I know. It's okay," Ashton mumbles. He begins to comfortingly stroke Michael's back. "I shouldn't have asked you I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what writing these are doing to you.."
Somehow, Michael manages to hold back the actual tears. He swallows hard and pulls out from the hug.
The two sit on the bed, the half finished poem laying abandoned between them. It's screaming up at them, so Michael tosses it aside. He can't even look at it anymore.
"You should get back down to Luke," he says quietly.
Ashton inspects him carefully. He seems deep in thought as his glance shifts from the poem, to the door, and finally to Michael, who's staring numbly at the floor. "Come downstairs with me," he says suddenly.
Michael glances up at him out of shock. His breath comes fast. "What?"
"It's the least I can do. Come hang out with us," Ashton says, smiling warmly. There's not a trace of deceit or cruelty.
"Really? But- I.."
Ashton chuckles at his stuttering. "Just come on."
Before he knows what's happening, Michael's being dragged down the steps and into the living room. His mind is spinning. It seems that he's underestimated Ashton's character quite a bit lately.
Then Michael lays eyes on Luke for the first time since the party. As cliche as it is, he can't find his breathe. Luke's casually sitting on the couch, waiting patiently. He smiles up at them, a hint of confusion in his eyes when he notices Michael.
"Hey this is my stepbrother, Michael. Is it okay if he chills with us?" Ashton introduces.
"Yeah of course," Luke replies.
"Oh and I couldn't find the poem I was going to show you, sorry," Ashton lies believably.
"It's fine."
They all take their seats on the couch, Michael slightly farther away from them, and continue watching some show on the tv.
Michael's heart is racing out of control. The boy that he can't stop thinking about is within his grasp yet again. There's a smile slowly growing on his face, for he never thought he'd be allowed to do this, to be here.
Luke continually glances at him with an expression of curiosity throughout the show. It's like he's trying to fit together a puzzle in his head. There's something familiar about Michael, he just doesn't know what it is yet.
Ashton and Luke are thoughtful in including Michael in their conversations, though he doesn't say much. The poems and party never come up, to Michael's disappointment, but this is more than he had dared to hope for.
A/N: hi I realized that this story had taken on a more gloomy tone and that's not at all what I had meant for. Oops. I also had included maybe too much yelling and arguments and thanks for sticking by this story even if it's not the most believable. I love you all so much. Oh and if you're curious to know what I listen to while writing this, it's a playlist of kodaline, Bastille, the killers, and the xx. So maybe try listening to some of those while reading for the effect. Long authors note so so sorry bye.
