((The picture comes in halfway through. Minor smut/implied/they make out

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ABBY YOU'RE SO GREAT AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

-Mel))

"Okay, you've got this," Michael nods at his reflection, straightening out his shirt. He sighs loudly, until Calum throws the door of the bathroom open and fixes him with an amused look. Michal hurriedly tries to make it look like he was just washing his hands by fumbling with the sink, but it's no use. Calum's already seen him being weak.

"Don't be nervous," Calum grabs him by the shoulders and steers him out of the room and into the hallway, then down the stairs. "Trust me, Ashton is easy. All you have to do is be yourself and-"

"That's terrible advice," Luke skids out of the kitchen just as they're walking past the doorframe, nearly sliding into Michael in the process. He manages to catch himself on the wall, swaying slightly, and says, "Don't be yourself, Ashton didn't like you when you were. Be- be Calum! He likes Calum!"

"No," Calum scoffs. He's digging his fingers into Michael's shoulders, but Michael doesn't have any time to mention it. "Don't be me, he thinks I'm fucking Luke and anyone with standards that low must be an idiot."

"Wow," Luke scoffs and shoves him. Calum releases his death grip on Michael's left shoulder to smack at Luke wildly. While they get into their little spat, Michael squirms away and grabs his jacket from the coat hanger by the front door.

"Okay, I won't be me and I won't be Calum," he assures them. "Thanks for your advice, I really- I took it to heart."

He manages to open the door and get one foot out before Calum's scrambling to grab his shoulder again. "Hey, hey!" He yells. "Don't fucking duck out yet, we haven't given you our motherly advice."

"Our?" Luke echoes. "Once again, leave me out of this! Just let him go live his super gay life, he knows what he's doing better than you do!"

Calum scoffs and hooks his arm around Luke's neck, tugging him closer until he can get the younger boy in a headlock. "First of all, Barbie, I have done super gay shit too, so fuck off. Second-"

"What, you've gone on a date with a guy?" Luke looks up at him, completely unimpressed, and doesn't even bother trying to squirm his way out of the headlock.

"Fuck off," Calum repeats.

He looks like he might say something else, so Michael twists out of his grip and gestures to the car behind him. "As fun as this is, I have somewhere to be. Remember? Date I've been planning for two days? With who you seem to think is my future husband? Ringing any bells?"

"No, c'mere," Calum releases Luke, who rubs at his throat and continues his minimal scowling. He reaches towards Michael, stepping close enough that he can latch onto his shirt, then tugs him in for a hug. "Have fun. And if he tries to talk to you about, like, taxes or chemistry or some other boring shit, you can always text me and I'll call to tell you the devastating news of Luke's death, okay?"

"Why do I always have to die?" Luke whines from the doorway. "Besides, he works with us, he's going to know I'm not dead."

"We'll break your leg and say you bounced back," Calum waves him off, which makes Luke even more annoyed. Calum finally releases Michael and shoves him in the direction of his car. "What are you still doing here? You're going to be late."

Michael rolls his eyes but he smiles, regardless, and shakes his head as he starts walking to his car. Calum and Luke get into another scuffle as soon as he turns his back, so he pointedly doesn't turn around.

As he's driving, GPS up on his phone, he can't help but sneak looks at himself in the rear view mirror. He looks good tonight in his black jeans and one of Luke's dress shirts (he's only got the one and Ashton's already seen it). It only takes a few minutes to get to Ashton's house, which is a real, proper, nice house. Where he lives alone. There's plants out front and fucking shutters on the windows. It's absolutely nothing like the run down mess of a house he lives in with Calum and Luke.

Michael parks his car in the driveway (which is totally clear of any cracks and edged perfectly by flat, freshly cut grass) and then walks up the clean sidewalk to the front door. There's neatly trimmed rose bushes, full of blooming flowers, on either side of the front steps. Seeing them reminds Michael that he'd come empty handed, and he briefly considers ripping a few roses off the bushes to offer Ashton.

He shakes his head when he spots the thorns and rubs his soft hands together unconsciously. When he brings his fist up to knock, he finds his hands still flecked with peeling purple acrylic paint. How it stayed on through his shower is beyond him. Either way, he rubs it off as fast as he can, eyebrows furrowed. He glances around the yard as he raises fist again to knock, only to spot a small sliver of light showing through the curtains of the window next to him.

He meets Ashton's eyes for a second, before the curtains are frantically being yanked closed. Michael smirks at that and hops off the front porch as quietly as possible, before creeping across the lawn. He presses his hands to the window, right where Ashton had been peering out, and leaves his face hovering a few inches away. It takes a few seconds, but, eventually, thin fingers curl around the edge of the curtain and it's pulled back again slowly.

"Hi, Ashton," Michael says as Ashton face appears directly in front of his. The blonde jerks back in surprise, letting out a small, muffled yelp, followed by a thud from inside the house. Michael laughs as the curtain swings closed again, pulling himself off the window. He starts making his way back to the porch, but barely manages to get one foot on the first step before the front door is being yanked open.

"Hi, Ashton!" Michael says again, more enthusiastically this time, as the man in question appears in the doorway.

"I don't want to go," Ashton tells him bluntly, even as he closes the front door and locks it behind him. "The only reason that I am accompanying you this evening, is because I promised you I would. Next time, ask me when you're not swallowing my dick."

Michael smiles at him easily. "Now, where's the fun in that?" Ashton presses his mouth into a thin line, as much of a scowl as he can, and storms down the three stairs on his way to Michael's car. Michael grabs his arm when he reaches the bottom and laughs slightly. "Come on, sweetheart, it won't be that bad. Can't argue with free dinner, can you?"

"I can and I will," Ashton tells him. Michael rolls his eyes, but cups Ashton's jaw in his hand gently, tilting his head up until Ashton meets his eyes and let's his tight mouthed grimace drop. "Don't you dare kiss me," Ashton warns. "I haven't even had dinner, yet."

"Fair point," Michael agrees. He swipes his thumb over Ashton's cheek and then kisses him there, anyway, leaving his cheeks flaming as he presses his lips together, again. Michael smiles as he let's his free hand drift to Ashton's lower back. He leads the shorter man over to his messy car (He'd tried cleaning, but drew the line at vacuuming), opening the squeaky door for him with a dramatic gesture.

Ashton huffs as Michael starts the car up, listening to it choke and sputter a few times before actually starting. Ashton gives him an unimpressed look, amplified when Michael just grins back at him, rubbing the dashboard of his twenty years old car, and says, "She's a beaut."

Ashton crosses his arms and looks out the windshield as Michael eases out of the driveway. The ride over is silent until Ashton starts messing with the radio. When he presses it on, a loud, screamo, heavy metal song starts blasting through the speakers. Ashton visibly jumps and hurries to turn it down, then goes through the radio stations. He flips through Michael's cd collection twice before tossing it aside carelessly and renewing his faith in the radio. Eventually, he settles on a classic rock station and turns the volume up a bit when he finds an Aerosmith song.

Michael raises his eyebrows and glances over. "You like Aerosmith?"

"They're okay," Ashton replies blandly. "Is that who this is?"

Michael sighs at him. "Did you miss literally the entire pop culture scene of the twenty first century? First you think Captain America is in the Justice League, and now this? Ashton, man, has anyone introduced you to the fuckin' internet, yet?"

"I have Facebook," Ashton replies, frown deepening and he looks out the window next to him.

"You're a white mom!" Michael enthuses. Ashton shoots him a glare, so Michael beams back at him. The song fades out and then another one starts up, so Michael says, "I will give you twenty bucks right now if you can tell me what song this is and who sings it."

Without even fucking hesitating, Ashton blurts out, "Jukebox Hero, Foreigner."

Michael looks at him in surprise, but Ashton just holds his hand out, still looking unimpressed. Begrudgingly, Michael reaches for his wallet with the hand that isn't on the steering wheel, then tosses it to Ashton. The older man digs through it for a second before coming up with a twenty dollar bill. "That was meant to be for dessert, so I guess we're not having that, now."

"We?" Ashton echoes as he continues to leaf through Michael's wallet. "Try you. I'm having nothing but dessert." Michael rolls his eyes again and focuses on the road until Ashton pulls something out. "Your real hair color is blonde?"

Michael glances over at his driver's license in Ashton's hands and nods. "Yes? Stop touching my stuff."

"This is cute," Ashton pulls out the picture that is permanently in the pocket right about Michael's driver's license. It's of him, Calum, and Luke doing the Charlie's Angel's pose at a Halloween party when they were in college. Luke was completely fucking shit faced, but that's all Michael really remembers of the night. He can't remember how the photo got into his wallet, but it's been there for roughly five years. Michael smiles automatically at the sight of it, while Ashton tucks it back into the pocket. "Have you known them long?" Ashton asks.

"Me and Cal have been friends for, like, twenty years," Michael shrugs as he pulls up to a red light and looks back over at Ashton curiously. "We met Luke in college and decided, since we were all studying education, we'd move to the city that was building the most progressive school in America together and get jobs. Pretty good idea, right? Especially since it lead me to you." He wiggles his eyebrows and Ashton grunts.

"Sure," he says blandly. He opens the only pocket in Michael's wallet that he hasn't searched yet and pulls out a condom in distaste. Before Michael can even defend himself (it's always in there, okay?) Ashton reaches over to roll down his window and tosses it out into the street.

"Hey!" Michael cries as the light turns green again. He refocuses on the road with a scowl.

"You won't need it," Ashton informs him.

Michael considers it for a moment before he beams at Ashton. "What, you like it raw?"

Ashton tries this door handle, only to find it locked. He huffs and sits back in his seat, tossing Michael's wallet into the cup holder before crossing his arms. "I always thought you and Calum were an item, but now I know why he chose Luke," he mumbles.

"He didn't," Michael admits, although his smile fades a bit hearing Ashton admit that out loud. "They're both straight- sort of, Calum sucks dick, like, once a month- but, anyway, they lied to you. Because, you know, you liked Calum and he wasn't interested, but I'm- I'm pan and Calum loves playing matchmaker."

Ashton stiffens up at that and glances out the window next to him while Foreigner fades away in the background. "I hate when people lie to me," he mutters.

"I told them it was a bad idea, but-" Michael pauses as he glances over at Ashton, who's still glaring out the window. "But I did kind of really like you, and you wouldn't even look at me without asking about Calum."

Ashton considers the statement while still staring out the window, before he asks, "He's not allergic to rabbits?"

"He loves them," Michael shakes his head.

Ashton slumps in his chair and stays silent for a few minutes. Eventually, he glances around and realizes they've been passing trees for roughly ten minutes, now, with nothing but more nature in front of them. The street is thickly lined with big trees, all protected by a nature reserve or something. Ashton sits up straighter and peers out the windshield curiously.

"There's a nice restaurant out here," Michael informs him. "Shit wine, great pasta. It's pretty far out of town, though, we're not even a quarter of the way there, yet."

"Oh," Ashton relaxes visibly again. "I was wondering... Nevermind. Nothing."

Michael smirks and glances over. "I'm not going to murder you in the forest. There's a legitimate restaurant out here." Ashton has the decency to blush, turning to look out the window again with a tiny smile. They continue driving for a while, Ashton flicks through all the classic rock radio stations and manages to name off every song and artist playing on each one, earning another twenty dollar bill from Michael's wallet. Which was meant for drinks, so now he's having water and Ashton's having mix drinks and chocolate cake for dinner.

Ashton's just started to squirm happily in his seat, smiling and fanning himself with the money like he's rich, when Michael's car makes a wheezing sort of clunking noise. He sits straight up and scrambles to grab hold of the dash, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Michael watches his temperature gauge go all the way from the middle point to overheated, and quickly serves to the side of the road.

"What happened?" Ashton asks, peering at the hood as it starts to emit a dark gray smoke.

Michael frowns as he gets rolls all the windows down and turns the car off. "I think she overheated. I'll go check."

"She?" Ashton echoes. Michael climbs out of the car before Ashton can make fun of him for personalizing his car, slamming the door shut behind him. He leans through text open window to pop the hood, then walks around to pull it completely up. As soon as he's got it open, the thick smoke starts pouring out of it in billowing clouds, forcing Michael to take a step back and wave his hand in front of his face. He shoves the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows and steps closer as it clears up again.

Michael stands, not touching his car, watching parts and metal chunks hiss and spew steam loudly. And then he remembers his limited knowledge of cars. The most he knows is where to put oil and windshield wiper fluid, which Calum and Luke had pointed out to him respectively. It's easy to remember, because they both have little symbols to indicate what they are.

He slams the hood shut and walks around to get back into the car. Closing the door behind him, he settles into his seat and pulls out his phone, while Ashton leans forward eagerly. "So?"

"I know nothing about cars," Michael replies bluntly. Ashton stares at him while Michael pulls out his phone and goes to call Luke, who's generally good at piecing things back together. Except, obviously, he has no cell service. "And, we're in a dead zone," Michael locks his phone again and glances at Ashton.

"Are you kidding?" Ashton demands. "Because this sounds like the start of a very bad joke." He must sense the seriousness of the situation displayed on Michael's face because his voice raises an octave as he cries, "But- but, we're in the middle of the woods! And it's getting dark!"

"Thank you, Ashton," Michael says dryly. He runs a hand through his hair and glances around for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. Mainly how to salvage this and how to make it work in his favor. After a couple seconds, he sighs and slaps his palm against his thigh. "Alright, well. I have granola bars in the back, so we can have a really shitty picnic on the back of my car until someone else drives past, or we can start walking back."

Ashton glares at him, arms crossed over his chest and looking throughly pissed off by the situation. After he's made sure Michael knows how he's feeling about the situation, he reaches over and flings the door open. "I'm walking back." He pauses after slamming his door shut, then opens the back and grabs the box of granola bars. "And I'm taking these."

He shuts the back door, too, so Michael scrambles to get out. He locks the doors (although he's not sure why, Ashton just walked off with the most valuable part of his car) and hurries after the blonde. After catching up with him, Michael glances over and finds Ashton's still scowling at the road ahead of them, but he's got a granola bar clutched tightly in his fist, now. He doesn't look at Michael as he takes a bite and forcefully chews, but the wrapper crinkling fills the air between them.

"So, are you still going to talk to me, or-" Michael manages to get out before Ashton's turning The Glare on him. It's sharp, has Michael flinching back and looking away. He looks ahead of them as they walk, instead. "I'm sorry, okay? Luke said my car was good for another year!"

"You had the math teacher look at your car?" Ashton asks, completely uninterested. Michael doesn't know why he bothered asking.

He shrugs anyway and kicks a rock, trips, catches himself at the last second with Ashton's bicep. When he controls his equilibrium enough to stand on his own, he releases Ashton, and clears his throat. "Um, yeah. Luke's- he's good at, like, mechanics and stuff like that. Fits into math, I guess. Not that I would know."

"It does," Ashton confirms. Michael looks over at him, so he takes another bite of his granola bar and continues talking with his mouth full. "Science guy, remember? Math and science are really similar in college. I don't know anything about mechanics, however."

"Damn," Michael sighs. He continues walking, unconsciously keeping himself between the road and Ashton. Next to him, Ashton's still scowling and chewing on his granola bars. Michael glances at him, but looks away when Ashton's glare harshens. Like he's holding the concrete road personally responsible for the mishap.

They walk in silence until they can't see Michael's shit car anymore, before Ashton shoves the wrapper of his second granola bar back into the box. He seems content to be completely silent, but- well, Michael's a talker when he's nervous. And this kind of makes him maybe slightly nervous.

"So," he starts, flinching when Ashton glares at him for a hot second. "You have a nice house."

"Thank you," Ashton mutters.

Michael links his fingers together in front of him and fumbles with them weakly for a moment. When the silence stretches too long, he asks, "Do you live alone?"

"No," Ashton replies shortly.

Michael pauses and let's the uncomfortable silence stretch too long again, waiting for an explanation. When it doesn't come, he slowly asks, "Roommates, or...?"

Ashton's the one that pauses this time, as he clutches the box of granola bars a bit tighter. Finally, he shrugs and nods. "I guess."

"You guess?" Michael echoes.

Ashton looks down at his feet, but Michael doesn't miss how his cheeks flame suddenly, hands tight around the box like he can't possibly let go. "I- um. I currently live with my parents."

"Okay," Michael shrugs. He honestly could not care less who Ashton lives with.

"No, wait," Ashton scrambles to explain the situation, like Michael is even slightly making fun of him. "I- I was married two years ago and we, um, we split, and- he got everything. I got the dog, he got the house, the bank account, everything we shared. I haven't yet gotten back on my feet, so I live with my parents."

"That's okay," Michael shrugs again. He can't see really tease Ashton, he lives in a shitty excuse for a house with his two best friends who have no idea what the hell clorox is. Michael doesn't think he's ever been on his feet long enough to be knocked off and get back on them.

They're silent for a few more steps until Ashton mumbles, "Calum reminded me of him. They looked and acted a lot alike."

"'S'probably unhealthy," Michael beams at him, even though Ashton frowns in return. "Good thing you're on a date with me, now! I'm the exact opposite of Calum!"

"Joy," Ashton mutters dryly. Michael can't believe he manages to make even his sarcasm pretentious. The single word spans them into silence for roughly ten minutes as they walk along the road. Michael can't think of anymore prying questions that aren't too prying, so his attention span runs out pretty fast. As a result, his mind starts running, goes into overdrive, and forces him to start making bad decisions.

He stops abruptly, wrapping an arm around Ashton's waist to force him to stop, too, and then tugs him in for a kiss. Ashton melts into it suspiciously easy, as he kisses back forcefully and curls a hand around Michael's neck.

The second bad decision comes when their making out gets a little too forceful and Ashton stumbles on the gravel shoulder of the road. He clings tightly to the short hairs on the back of Michael's neck, but that kind of hurts, so Michael reaches up to pry him off, then starts slowly backing the two of them up. Ashton continues stumbling across the grass, now nipping softly at Michael's jaw, apparently eager to have his lips pressed somewhere to his skin.

Michael fumbles around until he finds one of many trees and presses Ashton's back to it, then dives back in to kiss him, again. They're barely there for a minute before Michael's phone dings, indicating a text and, therefore, cell services. He pulls back and looks at Ashton curiously.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks softly.

Ashton kisses him chastely and then pulls back to set his head against the tree behind him gently. He studies Michael's face for a second before he leans in again to brush his mouth against Michael's ear softly. "I want you to take me home," he whispers, like it's some huge secret, as he keeps one hand behind Michael's neck and used the other to cup his jaw. "Take me home and kiss me until tomorrow morning. Okay?"

"Okay," Michael nods eagerly. He pulls out his phone and dials the most recently called number on his phone, knowing it'll probably be one of his roommates. He goes back to kissing Ashton while it rings, free hand twisting around Ashton's lower back to preens him closer.

"Hello?" Calum yells on the other side, loud enough that it startles Ashton and makes him pull back curiously. "Thank god you called! Luke is dead!"

Ashton stares at the phone pressed to Michael's ear in horror, but Michael only rolls his eyes. "Stop it, I told you I'm not doing that," he hisses. "You have to come pick us up, my car broke down."

"Dude, no," Calum replies immediately, much quieter than before. Ashton ducks his head to nip softly at Michael's jaw while he talks on the phone. "I'm not going to drive you around like your chauffer. I refuse to be your third wheel."

"Calum," Michael groans, partially in annoyance, partially because there's definitely going to be a hickey on his jaw. "You don't- just come pick us up and take us home. We ring the middle of the woods and it's getting dark, Ashton's terrified."

Ashton lifts his head long enough to grin and say, "So scared. I'm pressed against a tree, I'm so scared." Michael smiles back and kisses him twice on the mouth while Calum finishes complaining and then eventually agrees to pick them up.

Michael hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket so he can get back to more important matters. "I don't like you," Ashton lies against his mouth. "You're infuriating. And immature. And kind of a jerk- you stole my gecko."

"I gave him a better home," Michael argues. "If you don't like me, how come you're making out with me?"

"I don't know," Ashton grumbles, tugging sharply at the short hairs on the back of Michael's neck. "I don't- god, you're so pretty." He kisses him harder, then whines when Michael pushes his shoulder against the tree trunk. "You're mouth, Michael."

"Thanks," Michael's taking it as a compliment. "When we get to my house, I'm going to make you feel really good, and then I'm going to force you to tell me why you don't like me. The real reason. Sound good?"

Ashton doesn't look like he got past the make you feel really good part, as he blinks and nods quickly, tugging Michael back down for another furious kiss. "Yeah, shit, whatever."