Calum gets home to find Ashton happily eating crackers on the couch with a rerun of Jerry Springer on the television. He's instantly suspicious.
Ashton smiles at him and says, "Hiya, how was your day?"
Calum narrows his eyes. Ashton's never this happy. Usually he gets home to screaming because "you put this baby in me, fucker!" Sometimes he finds Ashton throwing up or crying or even smashing a lamp over Michael's shoulder on one memorable day. So yes, he's more than a little suspicious when Ashton offers him a cracker and a kiss on the cheek.
"Uh, it was fine?" Calum looks at him in confusion. Just as he's about to ask what the hell is happening, there's a loud thud from the guest bedroom, followed by Michael yelling, "Damn it, Luke!"
"What have you done?" Calum clicks his tongue. Ashton shrugs and returns to his crackers and stupid television, so Calum goes to investigate.
He finds Michael and Luke in the spare bedroom, each holding soft green colored paintbrushes. Luke's already on the verge of tears and the room isn't even half painted yet.
"What the hell are you guys doing." Calum asks.
Michael glances up and gestures to the room as a whole. "I'm painting, Luke's fucking everything up!"
"I didn't mean to!" Luke's bottom lip is shaking. Calum kind of wants to wrap him in a blanket and pet his hair for a while.
"Lukey, please don't cry," Calum begs. "Come on, Ashton's even happy! I'd just like to come home once to find no one crying!"
Luke frantically wipes at his eyes while Michael makes a dramatic sighing noise and returns to his wall painting. "I'm sorry!" Luke says quietly. "It's just- we didn't want Ashton to be inhaling the paint fumes, so we sent him to the living room, and now Michael keeps yelling at me-"
"Well I wouldn't have to, if you'd do it right," Michael mutters.
"Well, sorry, I didn't minor in painting like some of us!" Luke yells back.
Calum signs in frustration. "Luke, go eat crackers with Ashton."
Luke opens his mouth to protest, so Calum rips the paintbrush away and points towards the door forcefully. Luke sulks all the way out. There's green paint on the back of his head, which Calum's not about to point out and Michael certainly isn't.
"Why are you even doing this?" Calum asks.
Michael shrugs a little. "Ashton had a tiny bit of a freakout while you were in class and said he needed the baby's room finished now. So, I'm painting the baby's room. Because I'm a nice person."
Calum narrows his eyes skeptically. "How much are they paying you?"
"I get two days off from the swear jar," Michael grins and flicks his stupid black fringe off his forehead.
Calum scoffs. "Well, there goes my kid's college tuition."
Michael flings paint at him.
°°°°
Ashton points at a white crib and crosses his arms when Calum rolls his eyes. He points again.
"Come on, us and white? It'll be black in a month," Calum shakes his head, while Ashton scowls and glares at him. Calum's about to suggest the nice black one (it's pretty punk rock), but suddenly Michael's yelling from halfway across the baby store.
"Luke, look!" He says excitedly. Luke's head appears in the exact opposite corner of the room, glancing all the way over to where Michael has a baby holder strapped to his chest. He grins and Luke rolls his eyes before ducking down again.
Ashton glares at Calum, then tugs his phone out a types a new message. Calum's phone dings, so he pulls it out as Ashton puts his back away.
"Ashton says if he wasn't under a vow of silence, he'd be yelling at you, Michael!" He announces, rolling his eyes at the mention of Ashton's vow of silence. They'd mentioned that Ashton's money may have been taking up the majority of the swear jar, so Ashton had said "fine, then I won't talk at all!" He hasn't uttered a word in three days.
When Calum looks back, Ashton's not standing in front of him anymore. There's a loud choking noise from the opposite end of the shop, making Calum and Luke look over again.
Ashton's got Michael in a vicious headlock, right arm wrapped around his throat while Michael chokes and slaps Ashton's forearm weakly.
"Well, he never said he wouldn't attempt to kill you," Calum shrugs and let's them be, because Ashton can take care of himself. And Michael wouldn't dare hit him, even in self defence.
Luke makes a horrified noise though, and runs over to pry Ashton off of Michael. Calum continues browsing through the cribs, because he does really like the black one. It wouldn't quite match the soft green paint, but at least it's better than fucking white. He reaches up and grabs the box for the black crib, reading it over and ignoring Michael's choking and Luke's shrieking.
Ashton joins him again after a while, rubbing his hand over the clear white indentations in the shape of Michael's mouth on his arm. He points at the white crib again, so Calum shakes his head and holds up the black one.
"I'd like our baby to be punk rock from the very start," he says, holding up the box so Ashton can read over the words on it.
Ashton shakes his head and forcefully points to the white one again. Calum points at the black one.
"This is the most passive aggressive argument you've ever had," Michael interrupts suddenly.
"You just got your ass kicked by a 5' 7" pregnant boy," Luke scoffs. "I don't think you have any right to point things out within their relationship."
"And you cry when you see spiders, you can't control me," Michael rolls his eyes. Luke's phone dings before he can respond, while Ashton looks at him expectantly.
"Ashton says you had to have the "crier boy" rescue you from the pregnant one. So, ha," Luke informs Michael. Michael scoffs loudly, while Ashton tugs on Calum's sleeve to get his attention again. As soon as Calum looks at him, Ashton points to the white cribe again.
"Ash, I already picked the black one!" Calum groans. "You got to pick the color of the room, I should be able to pick the crib!"
Ashton's eyes start to get watery and his bottom lip stick out, shaking pathetically.
Calum groans. "No, not this!"
Ashton sniffles and squints like he's trying to force the tears out. Calum hates him, really. He shoves the black crib into place and snatches the white one down angrily. Ashton's smiling when he turns back, so Calum flips him off.
"Alright, what else do we need?" He shoves the box off to Michael and stalks out of the crib isle with Ashton grinning along behind him.
They get all the furniture in white, much to Calum's dismay. Luke and Michael both leave with their arms full of baby clothes and toys and probably two hundred dollars worth of debt.
But Ashton's happy, so Calum's going to say the trip went well.
°°°°
"Do we offer maternity leave?"
Calum opens his mouth, then closes it again, because he doesn't fucking know. He's co-owned the café for a little over a year now, and he has no fucking idea. The only other workers they have is Steve, the nighttime janitor and May, a small, quiet asexual girl who shaved her head one night when her dog died. But she makes good coffee and is very polite and actually looks pretty good with virtually no hair, so they keep her for when Calum does the 7-12 shift and Ashton refuses to leave his bed.
Calum shrugs and says, "Maybe? I don't know. You could work from home and we could just hire someone else for when I have class and May is busy.
So, they hire Liam, a tall boy with a blinding smile and a habit to drink about as much coffee as he sells. He's a little twitchy sometimes, but he's insanely nice and everyone falls in love with his teeth and eyes. Calum thinks they've had more tips with Liam than they ever did with May. Which is weird, because May is pretty and polite and shy. But whatever.
Ashton's finished with his vow of silence (it ended with a bang when Ashton threw up on the kitchen floor and proceeded to scream every single curse word he'd ever heard in his life), and back to normal conversation. Well, as normal as it can get, with his mood swings the hormones he's taking cause and his natural urge to kill Michael and Calum everytime either of them speak.
Calum's oddly okay with it, because between the four of them, they've gone through six cups full of change in the last month. He'd opened a little savings account for their baby, even though the bank teller gave him a weird look when he'd explained why he was depositing so much change.
Ashton gets a little happier, probably because he's starting to realize Calum is basically his bitch.
"Ow, Cal, my feet hurt," he pouts and Calum gives him a foot rub without another word.
The entire situation has Ashton grinning through his sixth month of pregnancy.
°°°°
"Wow, you're huge!"
"Thanks," Ashton responds dryly upon entering the café one afternoon.
"No!" Liam says quickly, frantically trying to fix his mistake. "No, I mean, the baby's getting really big! Compared to last time I saw you! Which wasn't that long ago-"
"You're digging yourself a grave, mate," Calum pats his shoulder and Liam shuts his mouth, slumping forward in defeat. Ashton leans across the counter to press a quick kiss to Calum's cheek, before disappearing into the back room.
Calum slaps Liam's arm as soon as Ashton's gone. "Now I'm going to have to listen to him complain about how big he is for the next few months. Thanks, asshole."
"I meant it as a compliment!" Liam says, face draining and eyes flashing with horror. Calum's pretty sure he's never going to be good friends with Liam. He's just so nice, and Calum lives for being a complete asshole.
He pats Liam's shoulder on his way into the back room, where Ashton's sat in one of the couches, flicking through a stack of papers.
"What are you doing here?" He asks.
"Getting insulted," Ashton replies airily, flicking through the papers forcefully.
Calum sighs heavily. "Come on, he didn't mean it."
"I know, but he's right," Ashton shrugs. Which is actually true. Ashton's bump is huge now, about the size of a basketball. Calum's sweatshirts do almost nothing to hide it, even though Ashton's still pretending they do.
"Love you," Calum replies, because he doesn't know what else to say. If he denies it, Ashton will probably attempt to strangle him (again), on account of his lying, but if he agrees, Ashton will still probably strangle him. Its really a lose-lose situation on Calum's part.
Ashton glances up and raises one eyebrow in a way that makes Calum squirm. After a few seconds, he looks back down again and mumble, "Love you too. You stupid fucker."
Calum's going to take what he can get.
°°°°
"Calum!"
Calum jerks awake with a loud snort, glancing around the dark bedroom in confusion. The bed is warm, but Ashton's not there, leaving Calum wrapped up in the duvet with his face smushed against Ashton's lonely pillow.
There's a loud shriek from the bathroom that has Calum scrambling up. He throws the blanket aside and stumbles into the bathroom, frantically rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
Ashton's standing in front of the toilet, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at his stomach through his pale blue shirt. Calum can't figure out what's wrong, because Ashton's not crying or screaming or attempting to stab him with the sharpened end of a toothbrush.
"Alright?" He asks carefully, already bracing himself for Ashton's yelling.
"No! Not fucking alright!" Ashton uncrosses his arms and holds them out, like he's showing Calum some unspeakable horror. Calum stares at him blankly. He's assuming Ashton's spilled something on his chest, because there's two wet spots staining his shirt. That's probably why Ashton's upset, its always the little things that piss him off.
"Change your shirt?" He frowns.
Ashton give him an incredulous, disbelieving look. Like he can't actually believe he's stuck with Calum, of all peoole. "That's not going to fucking help!"
"Yes?" Calum says softly, sort of unsure as to what the problem is. "Just- if you put on a different shirt, we'll just wash that one and it'll be fine."
"No, Calum, it fucking won't!" Ashton yells. Calum flinches slightly, but now he has no fucking clue how he's supposed to coax Ashton into a new shirt. Ashton seems pretty adament about keeping this one.
"Um," he says softly.
"Calum!" He yells again, like Calum hasn't heard that a million and ten times. "I'm- I'm fucking lactating!"
And oh.
"Oh," Calum says dumbly.
He's still fucking confused though, because as far as he knew, Ashton couldn't produce milk. For a second, he's concerned Ashton's going to wake up with a vagina tomorrow.
"Yeah, oh!" Ashton huffs and crosses his arms sulkily again. He looks cute, Calum thinks, with his shoulders all bunched up and his nose wrinkled in disgust. His face is flushing a dark pink from embarrassment.
"Maybe- its probably the girly hormones?" Calum offers, because that seems pretty logical. "The doctor said this might happen at your last checkup. Remember? Right before I started crying?"
"No, I don't remember, I was too busy waiting for you to cry or pass out again," Ashton snaps.
Calum sighs heavily. "Okay, fine. We'll- we can just- uh."
"What?" Ashton snaps in a tone that makes Calum flinch back again. "What could we possibly do to make this better?"
Calum's starting to get the feeling this isn't just about the whole milk thing. Which freaks him out, just a little bit.
"What's her name, Ashy?" He asks softly. When in doubt, divert Ashton's attention elsewhere.
It works, because Ashton gets this cute confused look on his face and frowns. "Who?"
"Our little flower, what do you want to name her?"
Ashton pauses at that, lips dropping open in surprise. His entire face changes to one of slightly confused shock at the question. "I- I don't know, I didn't- I was going to let you name her, I guess. Because you, you know, you want her."
Calum raises his eyebrows at that. "And you don't?"
"Low key," Ashton shrugs.
Calum glares at him. "You either want her or not, there's no "low key" wanting to have a baby."
"Well, of course I want her," Ashton says quietly, looking down at his toes. Well, his bump, considering it's in the way of his toes. "But, you know. I'm twenty one, I don't want a baby. I want to go to parties and get drunk and screw around with random people."
"You can do whatever you want after she's born," Calum whispers, even though it kind of hurts, because they'be been dating for two years, and suddenly Ashton wants to fuck around. It hurts him, it really hurts him to say it, but he continues. "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. If you want to leave after she's born, I'm not going to try to stop you. You are young, you're right, and you do have your whole life ahead of you. Even if that doesn't include me or the baby."
Ashton glances up at him with an unreadable look in his wide eyes. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip swiftly and frowns at Calum. "Okay."
"Okay?" Calum has no fucking clue what that means.
"Okay you can take her. I'll leave, if that's what you want,"
It's not. Its absolutely fucking not. Calum wants him to stay and raise their baby together, he wants to maybe get married and have another one further down the road, he wants a soft gray house with a picket fence and a swing set and maybe a dog. But Ashton's his own person, he still has big, wild plans that involve partying and drinking, apparently. And not Calum.
And he's absolutely not going to allow Ashton to be a deadbeat drunk around their baby.
So, he watches Ashton crawl back into bed without saying anything. Calum lays on his side of the bed and doesn't mind that Ashton's stolen the entire duvet, for the first time in his life.
°°°°
"Dude," Michael says when he finds out about the "future, agreed seperation". Admittedly, he'd found out from Luke, who'd found out from Ashton. So Calum feels a bit shit that he hadn't even mentioned it to his best friend. He'd been afraid, is all, that Michael would think he was weak for not forcing Ashton to stay and take care of his baby.
But, here they are, in Michael's flat, sharing chips and tears. Well, mostly from Calum. Actually, all from Calum.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael asks. Its been about a week since the decision had been reached, which only makes Calum feel like the worst best friend in the entire world.
He shrugs and wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve hastily. He doesn't even know why he's fucking crying. "Didn't want you to give me some shit advice, I guess. God, this is so embarrassing."
"Hey!" Michael punches him in the arm. "First off, my advice isn't shit! Second, you shouldn't be the one that's embarassed! Ashton should be, I mean, is he so heartless that he can't even take care of his own baby?"
"No," Calum says gently but forcefully. He'll always protect Ashton, no matter what. "He- he's just- he's scared, I think. He's not ready to settle down, let alone be a dad." He lets out a short laugh that's mostly bitter. "I was going to ask him to marry me. What a mistake that would have been."
Michael doesn't even know what to say to that. Calum doesn't blame him. He throws an arms over Calum's shoulder and tugs him close, rubbing his arm slowly. Calum sniffles some more and rubs at his teary eyes.
"Its- its whatever, Mikey, I'll be fine," he whispers dismissively, but it seems weak, even to him.
Michael sighs. "It's okay to feel, you know that right? You can have emotions, Cal."
"I don't want them," Calum frowns.
"You need them,"
"I need food to survive, but that doesn't mean I'm starving all the time," Calum counters.
Michael goes quiet at that agin, continuing to rub little circles into Calum's bicep and shoulder. The whole apartment is quiet, save for Calum's sniffling and hiccuping.
Eventually, Michael turns to press his lips to the top of Calum's head. "We're gonna be here for you, me and Luke. We'll babysit or help you parent, when you need us to, and Luke can probably change a few dirty diapers. We'll help you whenever you need us, just don't be afraid to ask, alright?"
Calum nods shakily where his head is resting against Michael's shoulder. "Alright."
((THIS WAS A SAD CHAPTER NO WHY
Anyway, probably a chapter or two left before the baby is booooorn!
I really like the name Cash for a boy, but then I remembered it's probably too cliche because cashton.... :((((
-Mel))