Well I know when you're around cause I know the sound/ I know the sound, of your heart

"So what do you do?" Michael asked as they walked from the restaurant and into the warm, August Nashville air, "We never got to that part."

Ashton followed Mike because he didn't have a car in the parking lot. He was planning on going to the bar next door after their meet up, honestly.

"I'm a manager at a sub place downtown," he responded quietly. Ashton wasn't really ashamed of his job, it was just nothing compared to Michael's job.

"That's kind of cool," Michael put his hands in his pocket, reaching for the keys of his Mercedes. "Do you remember that boardwalk by the high school?"

"The Pier?" Ashton asked, stopping in front of a cream colored car.

Michael nodded.

"Yeah," he laughed, "The place Timothy was conceived."

Mike let out a bellowing laughter, his pearly teeth glistening under the streetlights. "I forgot about that." He scratched the back of his neck, his fresh haircut feeling too short for his liking. "Do you wanna go there? Stargaze or something."

"Ye—."

"It's stupid, isn't it?" He interrupted the older man, not wanting to hear his response. "I'm sorry, I'm stupid."

"You were the valedictorian in high school, undergrad, and grad school, Mike." Ashton took a step forward, rolling on the balls of his feet. "I'd really like to go to The Pier."

Michael didn't stop smiling. He clicked the keys of his car, the back lights flashing. "Get in." It was something the older man did. After all the years, Ashton could simply say a word and pull Michael into his grasp.

Ashton opened the passenger door, sliding onto the white leather and getting comfortable. He didn't match Michael in his skinny jeans and loose tee shirt. Michael's ties itself probably costed an entire paycheck for Ashton.

Michael had always been money motivated—even when they were fifteen. Ashton was more of a floater, just accepting it as it came. It's no wonder they never worked out.

Mike backed out of the parking lot, knowing the boardwalk by heart.

The night was calm once they left the congested area of Nashville. The highway was quiet, Ashton staring out the mirror and watching the headlights behind them.

"Tim is fourteen now, he'll be fifteen in a few month," Mike said, breaking their fifteen minutes of silence.

"Wow," Ashton responded, "That just feels weird."

"I know. I was almost his age when he was born. It's really, really peculiar." Michael relaxed his stiff body, moving his right hand to the top of the steering wheel and his left against his own thigh. "He's a really good kid, though. Always does what he's supposed to and he does it well."

Ash smiled. "Do you regret any of it?"

He shook his head. "When we first found out you were pregnant, I did regret a lot, but it's been so long since then. I'm happy with the way it turned out." Michael turned off an exit, speeding down an empty road to get to the desolate place.

Ashton didn't know if Michael was glad they broke up. It was all Ashton's fault, really. It started with the drugs, led to felonies, Michael didn't want to be involved. Mike had a career to build and he felt 100 percent responsible for Timothy growing up, too.

That's why it ended the way it did. Michael got full custody and Ashton got nothing.

The two got out of the luxury car. Taking a breath of the fresh air. There weren't more than four lights around the area, everything was rather dark as they walked towards the bay.

Ashton can remember Michael being scared of the dark. He can remember the small, frail boy curling up in his older boyfriend's arms as they wasted their Friday nights watching the stars and talking about their future.

At the time, they didn't know what was going to be thrown their way.

Michael sat at the very end of the boardwalk, his knees curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his shins. Ash sat next to him, only a few inches to spare. He hung his feet over the edge, his faux leather oxfords revealing his mismatched socks.

"I'm glad you're doing well," Ashton whispered, "I'm glad Timothy is, too."

Mike half-smiled. "Thanks, Bud. It was hard for a while."

"Really?"

"Do you remember my mom?"

Ashton nodded, "Of course." He leant back, putting his hands behind his head and breathing slowly. He wasn't content with the moment, but he figured it was as good as he was going to ever feel.

"After everything happened with you, she helped out a lot. I felt although I was in high school again, you know? I'd work during the day, I'd come home late and Tim would be asleep, then I'd have to do a bit more work until the early hours of the morning. It'd all start over again, five times a week."

"Your mother has always been a great woman. She saved our asses." Ashton and Michael continued going to school after Timothy was born, they were fifteen and sixteen—way too young to drop out. The two went to school, went to their part-time jobs, went home to bond with their newborn, then did their homework and studying.

Ashton got a break after he graduated and moved into the city to live with Mike as the man went to college. Michael never got a break, though. He never had a single second to take a deep breath.

Michael will never understand how lovely he is.

"She passed away a few years ago," the busy man said quietly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he quickly cooed, looking up at Michael's back. Mike didn't move.

"I tried to contact you but guess where you were?" He rhetorically asked. "In rehab again."

Ashton rolled his eyes. "At least I was trying to get help. It's better than being a homeless junkie, dude."

"I guess, Ashton," he said with a sigh. "Tim asked about you for so long. He stopped a few years ago." Michael laid back next to the brunette, bringing his hands up to his eyes and rubbing at them. "I don't understand how any of this happened."

"Well, we didn't want to use protection because—."

"No, not that," he let out a breathy chuckle. He dropped his hands to his sides, his eyes still staring up at the sky. "We were the it couple, Ash. We made it through having a child, through all the shit the school put us through. Your parents kicked you out of the house and we still stayed together. We were supposed to make it!"

"I know." Ashton rolled onto his side, looking directly at Michael. "You were under so much stress and that put me under stress. We had this child and you were in school all day, I wasn't ready to grow up."

"Are you ready now?"

Ashton stayed quiet because he didn't want to lie.

Michael sighed again, understanding the sudden silence. "How many months have you been clean?"

"Clean of what?"

Mike looked over at him, "Really?"

"I mean, it takes time."

Michael wanted to roll his eyes, yell about how it's been eight years of time. When they first broke up, Mike didn't think it was going to be for long. He thought that Ashton losing Michael (and soon Tim) would be enough to sober him up.

Michael would never understand addiction, though.

"Well, I haven't been on acid in eight years," he started, "I stopped heroine about six years ago. I haven't done coke in six months, and I'm trying to get off pot right now."

"I mean, that's progress."

"Yeah," he said with a smile, "It is."

Michael turned over on his side, now facing Ashton. "What about drinking?"

"It's hard, Mikey."

He rolled back onto his back. "Let's go see Tim." Michael sat up, pausing to say one last thing, "You're not staying the night, I don't want you around him for more than five minutes."

Ashton sighed. "I'm not gonna shoot up heroine in front of him, Michael."