deanofdiscipline:

He finished the cake rather quickly, it was delicious, as Claude’s mothers cake’s always were. The two men sat in silence for a long time, Ash trying to resist the urge to throw things, anything to break the horrible tension between them, and the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of Claude’s pen on the forms, which Ash could now see were for that job in Oxford. Perhaps it would be good for the two of them to take a break for a while, spend sometime apart-…

But even the thought of that filled Ash with dread, and he felt he finally had to speak, break the ice in some way. 

“Claude…I am sorry for what I said earlier. I was angry, and I didn’t mean it…”

"Its fine." His voice was bitter, cold, cutting off the other from the end of is sentence as it was clear, he was not accepting of the males apology just yet. Claude was angry, yes, his earlier mood was more sad and self-blaming but now he was going through a sort of self-rage moment. If he tried harder, maybe this wouldn’t have happened? Whenever they argued, they always ended up drifting further apart and the next few days never felt normal until a sparked kiss led to rough sex against whatever surface was near them. But this was not a situation where lucrative positions could help them now or solve it, this was a situation that gone too far. A hand ran throughout his dark hair as he moved his bangs back, golden optics narrowing onto the page as he attempted to concentrate on the page before him which ironically, was about his personal life. Confrontation was not something Claude was much too kind to, he liked to swoop the problems beneath a carpet and let a demeanour that everything was okay and that he was unaffected with his usually placid and stoic demeanour around students, right now this facade was being used against Ash, the same attitude he had when the two of them had loathed each other when Claude joined Faustian High.

(Source: theliteraturefiend)

deanofdiscipline:

It took Ash a long time to revive from his stupor, and his vision was horribly hazy as his eyelids flicked open, confusion was the first emotion that struck the blonde as he wondered why he was on the couch.  Blinking, he could make out faint figure of Claude sitting on the couch beside him, his face all the scrunched up in the way that meant he was concentrated. He would always get these little lines between his eyebrows. A blinding pain in his head, his body punishing him for drowning himself in wine, and as he finally moved from his inelegant position, sprawled out on the couch, a soft groan issued from his lips. Reached for the headache tablets, and downing them, he then set about digging into the cake that was there, all the time avoiding Claude’s gaze, not sure when to break the silence. What was Claude working on? Could it be…divorce papers? Ash had said such horrible things…he felt ashamed of himself. 

“I did not expect you to come home tonight…” he murmured softly, still not able to look at him, trying to stop himself from throwing up again, staring down at the floor.

If the other would have assumed that these were divorce papers then perhaps his husband was quite dim in the sense that the application for divorce was a rather long period of time to gather papers in, they would have to be in court before they could be assigned any sort of paperwork. He was filling in the acceptance forms of his new job and by lord, the questions had been far more detailed than the dainty ones offered at Faustian High. His brows furrowed together as he was writing with his usual, elegant writing. Claude did not notice his partners stirring and eating of the cake until the meek voice spoke the silence in the room, his body tensing instantly at the sound of his other-half’s statement. “I wasn’t going to stay the night..” He spoke as he wrote, golden optics intently focused on the paper before him. “But I changed my mind.” Flipping the page over, he continued to fill the questions on the white paper. A part of him wanted to deal with the issues they had at hand, but he knew if they did talk about it, Claude was going to have his tearful breakdown, one that he did not have incomparison to Ash. Maybe.. just maybe, he should give up the idea of the adoption thing. Who would want him to be a father anyway?

(Source: theliteraturefiend)

deanofdiscipline:

For the first time in a long time Ash was scared of his husband, flinching as he prepared himself for the slap across the face he was sure to get. Eye squeezed shut, he could not bear to look at him, just listening to those horrible spifeful words pouring from the lips he had been kissing so passionately only half an hour ago. As so as he had said that last sentence, Ash knew he had gone far over the line, hitting Claude where it would hurt him most. That was the problem when your vulnerabilities become exposed to those you love, they can so easily be used against you to cause pain and suffering. 

He sank to the floor as Claude slammed out the door, feeling strangely numb inside, like he had used up all his emotions. There was no point in running after Claude, it would only make things worse. Unsure what else to do, he picked up the wine bottle and carried it back to their bedroom, laying down on the soiled sheets and sipping it slowly, until that familiar buzz of drunkenness washed over him and he passed out.

As pathetic as it was, the male was off to his parents for the afternoon. There was no better place like home, right? And it was more than obvious Ash did not want Claude him near this time. Though he was not as open with his family scars as Ash was, he was still affected by them if not, deeper. He wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck as he wondered off there, his asthma not treating him well in such harsh weather. Claude was still a little in shock with what Ash had said for the other was not one to use someones personal experiences against them, even when drunk and rowdy they were small insults, nothing to be taken to heart. He moved his hand through his messy hair as he smiled at his adoptive parent, Linda, who had taken him in at a rather young age. To be home with his family here never failed to set a smile on his face, though his adoptive father figure was out working, Claude was happy to see her. He could hear new uncles and aunts who did not make him feel as out of place as Ash did in the background also greeting him and preparing for lunch around this time. 

Throughout lunch laughter and the faint sound of giggles emitting from young children had emitted in the room with made the teacher a little happy initally, but it kept reminding him of the elder being such an idiot back at home. Claude felt more angry at himself rather than at Ash for not being able to have a family or provide one atleast, but a part of him felt betrayed also because the teacher may not show how upset he is, does not mean he is not affected by it. A faint sigh emitted from his mouth as he hitched a few smiles to clear up the plates once everyone drifted off in the living room for a lazy afternoon on the Saturday. His mothers eyes though were one thing that were piercing into the tall male as he carried them to the kitchen, his gaze contently stuck to the floor.

”.. You guys fought, didn’t you?” Linda asked as she followed her adoptive son into the kitchen, holding a smaller amount of plates.

"—No."

"Claude Faustus! I have been in your life for nearly fifteen years of your life! I know a lie from you, when I see one."

Mother knows best, eh?

"—.. Yeah, we did. It’ll be fine once I go home, don’t worry." Cold as he was as a teenager, the teacher began to scrub the plates.

"Don’t be cold with me, young man. I know you far better then you assume. Was it about the adoption process?" She narrowed her gaze onto her son once more before he nodded, crumbling under her gaze as he sighed once more as he started to dry the plates he washed. Claude was a mothers boy, he told her everything ranging from the adoption to his new job offer which she had earlier congratulated him on.

"I told you, it was not going to be easy. Its an emotional process, I had to go through eight homes till I was able to find you! What happened anyway, Claude?"

"We.. got into a fight because.. The reason we kept getting rejected is because of Angela." A knowing look as he looked into his mothers eyes, her nodding explaning enough of the females mental health. "I suggested we can work on something about it and he spat back in my face that—"

"You two basically had a misunderstanding?" She interrupted.

"He said that the only reason I’m like that was because I don’t have a proper family of my own."

"Oh, bubba.." She moved onto her tiptoes to ruffle her adoptive sons hair, furrowing her brows at the current situation. "You’re just like me, we both take on board to help others and yet, we don’t help ourselves.. Show him you’re also struggling, love. Though it seems difficult now, calm down, take a few breaths and realise that you guys are angry. Being rejected is more than a hurt to your pride but it almost implies you’re not good enough for a family.. And you guys certainly are. Look at you! Ash looks after his sister day after day, don’t you think thats emotionally straining on him? But you act as his rock, you take on his pain as your own and you listen to him, Faustus." Referring to him by his surename had been a trait he picked up from her and used evidently on Ash. "I nearly beat your father with a leak, do you know that?" She added a little light to the situation as she ruffled his hair, smiling softly at her son. "Go home, talk to him a little more and if all fails, I’ll talk to him. Oh, and I put a red-velvet cake in the fridge for you two. Take it home, hm?" Giving him a quick cuddle, she shooed him out of the house with the gift bag full of cake for the two of them.

His mothers words were one he deeply took on board as he smiled at her rather quirky presence, it would always leave an impression on him, no matter what. Claude’s gaze soon caught onto the little asthma pump that was placed into the bag and with a little grin, he headed towards home for truly, mothers do know best.

Initially, he was a little anxious to return home because he did not want to do it, to deal with all this confrontation because it was not in his pride to do so but much like his mother said earlier, he would like to pick up the pieces rather than destroy them. Returning home, he instantally noticed that a new bottle of red wine had been opened and the one on the floor had still been there, the only assumption that hit him was that Ash was drunk, again. A part of him was a little relieved that he didn’t have to deal with the blonde angry idiot, but he didn’t like him drinking to his death. Placing the bag in the kitchen, he quickly made his way upstairs to the shared bedroom to only see Ash curled on the soiled sheets with a little pile of vomit trailing down his mouth. He wrinkled his nose at such a sight but nonetheless, what could he do? Deciding this would be no place for him to sleep, Claude lifted Ash up into his arms and moved downstairs to place him on the couch, putting the small quilt ontop of him. 

House wife mode, activate! Claude took advantage of the others drunken stupor as the teacher removed his jacket and scarf to begin cleaning the messy bits of the house. He rolled up his sleeves and decided with the bedroom first, changing its sheets to a pair of new ones and a new, winter duvet. He moved back downstairs quietly so he did not wake the blonde to put the clothes in the washing machine, tip-toeing around the broken glass from earlier. A few cleaning moments later, he found himself on the kitchen picking up the glass fragements carefully but he soon cut himself with one of the pieces. “Shi—” He muttered as he sucked his finger, disgarding all the glasses and drink before he treated himself to a band-aid.  

Shortly after treating his minor injuries, Claude walked back into the living room where his supposed other half was still passed out from his early drunken stupor, he held a glass of water and a few hangover tablets as accompined by a small piece of red-velvet cake and placed them on the table before him. The teacher sat on the floor and leaned his back against the ledge of the sofa, narrowing his tired gaze at Ash. Oh god, what did he get himself into? Did his attack make him an unfit parent? Maybe.. maybe it was Claude’s fault afterall, so he thought. Sitting up onto the couch, Claude withdrew the Oxford acceptance forms and started working on his acceptance paperwork, - he was going to take this job, no matter what.  

However a part of him still was waiting for his partner to wake up and sort this adoption mess out.

(Source: theliteraturefiend)

this reply will be kinda wrong but thats cause claude is havinga  conversation with his mother LOL

don’t be alarmed pls

i just like using his mom as like his safety 

deanofdiscipline:

theliteraturefiend:

deanofdiscipline:

“It’s not bloody fine, so stop telling me it is, and ruffling my hair like I am some child!” Ash’s temper suddenly burned white hot, and he simply could not bear to have Claude’ hands touching him. He was sick of these, of the ball of nerves in his stomach every time the postman delivered a letter. “We should just give up this foolish search.” Such a look of dejection on his face as he scooted out of his loves arm’s and moved to get the bottle of wine from the fridge. These days, it was never too early for a drink.

“We should never have even entertained the thought of having children…no one is going to give their children up to someone like me. I wish I had never let you convince me.”

Golden optics narrowed onto the male before him as he dropped his hands and took a few steps back from the males temper. Ash was always so evident about rejection, he vividly portrayed it with a drink and maybe a few jabs here and there, but Claude was not so open. Like a mask, he hid behind such rejection with a stoic demeanour and later at night, when Ash was passed out from his own self pity in drink, Claude came down and sat down in the living room, tear-glazed optics did all the speaking for him. No matter how many books he had read and learned from, they would never teach you about the pain you could suffer through. His other-half was one to get angry easily, even if the tea-cup was not on a coaster you could hear the elders mouth rattle off swearing as a sailor. 

Taking a deep breath, he moved forward to snatch the bottle out of his partners grip and placed it over a cabinet, a little thankful his height could give him leverage at this point of time. “Drinking yourself to the point where you’re throwing up in the morning ain’t going t’help, is it?” His accent slipping through a little as the teacher attempted to conserve his own anger, hands slipping into clear fists. “I’m fucking sorry, if I wanted to have a future with you and possibly give a kid a better life than us.” Anger was trembling through his tone but he managed to keep his calm. “The best we can do, is improve on why we got rejected, and try again.”

“Improve on why we were rejected?! You do realise the reason we were rejected was my sister!” He slammed the bottle down on the table, almost smashing it to bits. Ash was vicious when he was angry, all the stress and pain was bubbling  to the surface as he completely lost controll “You expect me to do what about that? Lock her up?! Throw her into home! For someone who spouts so much crap about family, you sure are quick to suggest me abandoning mine! JUST BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE ANY!” 

"I wasn’t suggesting—" A little winded by his comment, he stared at the blonde for a rather long time as an eerie silence fell over the both of him. He was left in awe in a way for a man who could not often express himself and his feelings could perfectly express his anger in such a time like this. He narrowed his gaze onto the blonde who clearly was in no shape or form to carry on a civil conversation without getting family involved but now that boundry had been crossed. Claude’s anger was not loud or violent as perfectly displayed by Ash, it was much more quiet to the point where it could be identified with a psychopath. He moved towards the blonde and pressed up against him so the other was held against the sink. Lips barley away from the others, golden optics narrowed onto him as he didn’t lift a hand, preferring his weapon be in words. "Five years. Five fucking years, Ash. Thats how long I’ve dealt with you. Two of those years you left me to got America, and the year before your sister stabbed me." His breathing was a little shaky for his asthma was more apparent here, being angry for him used a little more of his health then he would have liked too. "I lied to the police, my job, my foster family— My whole fucking life, I’ve put on hold for you. Don’t you dare say to me i’m spouting shit about my family, don’t you fucking even imply that because you ARE my family. But you’ve shown me that you don’t see me in that light.” Staring at Ash for a few more moments he pulled away from him and grabbed his scarf which was hanging off from the chair. “By the way, Ash, I got a job offer at Oxford to support our ‘crap family’ that you adore so much.” Claude loosely draped the scarf around his neck as he left the house, slamming the door behind him. He knew when he wasn’t wanted to be around, it was a feeling he had felt all his childhood. It was all too familiar.