Chapter Text
Her name was Noelle. Michael was infatuated the moment he laid eyes on her during the induction day of uni. She was stunning – blonde hair that almost glowed with shine, blue eyes that lit up her whole face, and a smile so mesmerising that Michael would plan jokes to tell her just to see it. But he’d never spoken to her. He never plucked up the courage to. She was too beautiful for him to be worth her gaze, let alone her laughs.
He knew everything about her just from observing. He knew her father was American and her mother was Polish, but she was born and raised in Perth. He knew she played flute, harp and violin. He knew she was dating some asshole second year from Visual Arts who was on the university’s football team.
So, of course, Michael recognised said asshole immediately as soon as his body blocked Michael’s view of Noelle in the student common area.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Ashton said, leaning heavily on the table.
Michael blinked up at him anxiously. “Just—just staring into space.”
“I don’t think so,” Ashton said. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m just staring into space,” Michael insisted.
“You’re just lying is what you’re doing,” Ashton argued. “You’re staring at my girlfriend like some kind of fucking pervert.”
“I’m not.”
Ashton narrowed his eyes, looking him up and down. “What course are you in?”
“Music.”
Ashton drummed his fingers on the table, and straightened up with a displeased grunt. “Are you in first year?”
Michael nodded.
“Hm,” Ashton murmured. “What’s your name?”
“Michael.”
“I’m Ashton,” he said, but Michael already knew that. “You might wanna remember it so you can use it in your police report if I catch you staring at my girlfriend again.”
Michael swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”
“The fuck you mean ‘thank you’?” Ashton shot. “I’m fucking threatening you.”
“I know,” Michael said.
Ashton frowned at him for a moment. Then, he said, “You’re weird,” and turned away to return to his girlfriend.
Michael watched him go, absent-mindedly tracing the edges of his laptop. He knew that Ashton was a dick, but he didn’t know he was a jealous dick. He didn’t really understand why Ashton would feel even remotely threatened by him. If Noelle had him, there was no way in hell she would even consider getting with Michael. Michael wasn’t muscular, fit, charismatic, handsome. The only thing Michael had over Ashton was his height.
“What was that about?”
Michael’s roommate and class friend, Luke, had returned from the bathroom just in time to see the end of the interaction.
“He noticed me staring at his girlfriend,” Michael muttered, casting his eyes down to his laptop screen.
“Oh, that’s Noelle’s boyfriend?” Luke asked.
“Yeah,” Michael said, “and he told me, if he catches me staring at her again, he’ll beat me up.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he will,” Luke laughed.
Michael shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think he was serious about it, but – I don’t know – he’s scary.”
“He was looking at you pretty intensely,” Luke agreed. “I wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side.”
“Well, I already am,” Michael griped.
“Shouldn’t have been staring at his girlfriend then,” Luke pointed out.
“I didn’t think he’d notice,” Michael said.
“You’re hard to miss,” Luke murmured, glancing indicatively at his red hair. “Anyways, can you send me the notes for Music Technology? I’ve been asking for them for – like – a week now, and you still haven’t sent me them.”
“Right, yeah, sorry.”
--
Ashton hung his head over the edge of Calum’s bed, feet propped up on the wall, as he watched him do push-ups on the cramped strip of floor between the bed and the desk. Compared to other college boys, Calum kept his floorspace relatively clean, which was most likely due to the fact that all of the mess went on the desk instead so that he did have room to do push-ups on his floor if he wanted to.
“Can you say something, Ash?” Calum said. “You’re making me feel uneasy.”
“I’m thinking about that Michael guy,” Ashton said.
Calum lowered his knees, and sat back on them. “Of course, you are.”
“The nerve of him,” he scoffed.
“Has Noelle told you it’s making her uncomfortable?” Calum asked.
Ashton shrugged. “Don’t think she’s noticed him. For whatever reason.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Calum told him, getting to his feet. “He’s terrible with girls.”
Ashton twisted on the bed to sit upright. “How do you know that?”
Calum stood in front of the narrow little mirror nailed to the side of the wardrobe, and checked out his pump. “I went to school with him.”
“You did?” Ashton said. “And you didn’t tell me this sooner?”
Calum flexed his triceps, scrutinising the muscles. “It didn’t come up.”
“You look great, Cal. Stop staring at yourself,” Ashton said.
“But do I look good enough for a date?” Calum asked, turning to Ashton with his flexed arms instead.
“Mouth-watering,” Ashton said dismissively. “How long were you in school with him? Just high school?”
“Since we were six,” Calum said. He returned to the mirror to inspect his pecs instead. “We were really close for years, and, then, we just grew apart.”
“You seriously need to start telling me things,” Ashton muttered. “Stop staring at your fucking tits, Calum.”
Calum scoffed, and grabbed his T-shirt off the floor, pulling it back on.
“You were friends with that weird little thing?” Ashton pressed further.
Calum threw himself onto the bed next to him. “Yeah, but, then, in year seven, he started getting bullied, and I didn’t wanna get caught up in it, so I stopped talking to him.”
Ashton laughed. “You dick.”
“It’s every man for himself when you get to high school,” Calum defended. “You’re the designated driver for tonight, okay?”
“If you wanna get into a drunk-driving accident, I am,” Ashton said.
Calum groaned dramatically. “I can’t afford a taxi right now, Ash.”
“Okay, then we’ll go somewhere in Darlington,” Ashton suggested.
“I already told her we’re meeting in CBD,” Calum said.
“Take one of the night buses then,” Ashton said.
“It’s – like – a twenty-minute walk from the bus stop,” Calum protested. “It’s fine. I’ll scrape up the funds somehow.”
“We’re splitting the taxi anyway, so,” Ashton said.
“I am not paying for half your trip to fucking Richmond.” Calum sat up hurriedly.
“I’m staying here, Cal,” Ashton responded slowly. “Remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Calum lay back down. “Sorry, my brain’s all jumbled up. I’m nervous about this date.”
“I wouldn’t have chosen to go to a club with my friend and his girlfriend as a first date,” Ashton murmured judgementally.
“You’re comforting to me,” Calum said, patting Ashton’s knee light-heartedly. “You’re my emotional support animal.”
--
Ashton and Noelle had a break between lectures at the same time, and, while Ashton was planning to hang out in the library by himself, Noelle had other plans. She wanted to spend time with him. If he wanted to keep his picture-perfect girlfriend, he would have to appease her, so he agreed.
The weather was nice, she told him. So, she wanted to sit in the grass, and enjoy the sun. Ashton bit his tongue to stop from pointing out that it was October, so, of course, the sun was out. It was always out, because it was fucking spring.
“I got you a coffee,” Noelle said in her sweet, light voice that everyone fell for.
“Thanks, babe,” Ashton smiled.
He exchanged the coffee for a light peck on her lips as he joined her on the grass.
Noelle talked about the lecture she just came from. She told him about how great this lecturer is, that she makes every class engaging and fun, that she makes the content so easy to digest. She went over some of the topics she learnt in class, and how excited she was for the next lecture.
Ashton was not listening, but he was good at pretending. He tuned in just enough to get the gist of what she was talking about in case she asked him a question while his mind wandered elsewhere. He thought about getting home, what he was going to watch while he ate dinner, if his mother would be making him dinner, when he would fit the gym into this week when he had an assignment due next week.
“And we have a paired project that we have to work on, but I like my partner, so I don’t mind,” Noelle said. “What class do you have next?”
“Spanish,” Ashton muttered.
“How’s that going?” She asked. “Is it hard?”
“Not really.” Ashton sipped on his coffee, glancing around the green. “They’re taking it pretty slow, and it’s easier than French, so.”
“Speak some Spanish to me,” Noelle said flirtatiously.
Ashton laughed lightly. “I’m not doing that.”
“Aw, come on,” she griped. “You can just learn the sexiest language ever, and not show it off to me.”
“It definitely won’t sound sexy out of my mouth,” Ashton said.
He made eye contact with someone across the green before the person hastily averted their gaze. It was the emo kid, Michael, again. Ashton smiled slyly around his straw.
“Everything sounds sexy out of your mouth,” Noelle purred.
He glanced to her. “If you wanted to get in bed with me tonight, you could have just said so.”
Noelle slapped him playfully. “Don’t make it dirty,” she giggled.
Ashton’s eyes trailed back to Michael, who was pretending to be engrossed in conversation with his queer-looking friend. He’d warned that kid already about his staring problem, and Ashton wasn’t one to fail to follow through. But, today, he was feeling generous (lazy). He’d give him another chance.