✔︎Baby | OT4

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"You have Luke, you selfish bastard!"

"Nobody has me, I'm not an object!"

"Shut up, Luke. And what the hell are you on about, fucker?"

"He hates swearing, you can give up!"

"Oh, shut it. Like you've never sworn."

"Both of you can go fuck yourselves."

"I won't have to, I have him."

"He has chlamydia, remember?"

"And I can help him when we go back to school and everyone says he was pregnant or whoring around."

   Ashton woke up, staring at the ceiling with hazel eyes that started filling with tears almost immediately. Calum, the lightest sleeper of the three seniors, was petting his curls immediately. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?"

   "I- I- I had a dream, you guys were arguing... I don't know. It seemed so real," the seventeen-year-old whispered. Calum's eyes widened, before he was embracing Ashton.

"It was just a nightmare, baby," he reassured, stroking the pastel haired boy's fluffy bedhead. The younger lad sighed in relief, cradling his head in Calum's collarbone and absentmindedly tangling his long legs with Luke's and pressing his arm and torso against Michael's porcelain shoulder. He'd barely gotten situated before a slim girl was entering. She had familiar black hair with an assortment of rainbow dreadlocks, though she'd lost the array of flowers and flowing white dress.

"Hey, babe," she grinned, bopping Ashton's nose. Rena used the term of endearment platonically, something that'd started after a few hours of socializing the night before. Ash had managed a few words, though he was still nearly mute around the two girls. Miranda followed her friend in, blonde hair billowing loosely around her shoulders.

   "Morning boys. Your mum let us in, Ash. Anyways, we go to QCT too, so do you want to carpool?" The seventeen-year-old immediately hid his face, turning a bright pink. The quick movement woke both Luke and Michael, who cuddled around the smaller boy and glanced up at the two girls.

   "I'm going to go make coffee with Ash, you two can make plans for carpooling," Calum said, smiling cheekily at his mates and leading the shy teenager down to his kitchen. Ashton kept his tanned features hidden, Michael immediately leaping up and following them. Calum winked at Luke as he left, smirking slightly.

"Michael G. Clifford," Luke yelped, drawing his mate back with a desperate look. The paler boy plopped down on the blonde's flannel pyjama pants clad lap, leaning back comfortably on the lankier lad.

"Ashton's mum is a high school teacher turned uni professor so she's homeschooling us for a few weeks. It's like a vacation," he explained simply, before tossing Luke over his shoulder and following Ashton and Calum's path. Rena and Miranda joined them, the black haired girl starting on a story about her sister, Nia Lovelis. They walked in on Ashton taking his medication, though the girls didn't comment.

"Sorry for barging in, guys," Miranda apologized, chuckling easily. Rena hugged Ashton quickly—out of the four, he had the easiest time befriending girls, though he rarely spoke—and exited the house.

"What do you think, Ash?" Michael commented. "Did you like them?" The pastel haired boy nodded. Though he was still too shy to talk to Rena and Miranda much, he'd liked them; they clicked well, but Ashton also spoke with only his four best friends. In comparison to Remi, every stranger was great.

"Like them enough to have them, and Nia and Casey—Rena's sister and their other mate—over tonight?" Calum offered, tugging Ashton from his standing position and into Cal's lap. The tanned boy nodded carefully. Though the idea of meeting even more people petrified him, he could see that the caramel skinned lad wanted to see the girls and Casey. "We don't have to, baby," Calum said gently, cuddling his best friend.

Ashely's words echoed in Ashton's mind. As he rarely spoke to strangers, encounters with them stuck in Ash's memory. I've seen you with your friends, she'd said. Speak up. Though his voice often escaped him, the seventeen-year-old figured if Calum wanted to see new people, he could at least learn to be in their presence. "We can," he said. "My mum has to prepare lesson plans for her sub, since she's taken time off," the younger teenager started, guilt evident in his face and tone. "But I can make dinner, or we can order," he smiled.

"You're sure, baby?" Ashton nodded. "Alright. And we can order, I wouldn't want you cutting your soft little fingers," Calum cooed. The seventeen-year-old held up his hand, giggling softly. Ash's hands were huge, his fingers long and slender, the type that would make an incredible musician. His mates already knew this, from years of holding hands, but to the older boys everything about Ashton seemed like it should be small and adorable. And it was, other than his nearly disproportionate hands—and maybe one other thing wasn't exactly small.

"Those fingers could really get in there, couldn't they?" Michael murmured, tugging Ashton to his chest. The pastel haired boy scrunched his nose, eyes hued with an innocent confusion. A single curl fell across his forehead, making the teenager looked younger, and blending the hazel in his orbs, to the point where they seemed completely grass green. "You're the cutest," Michael cooed.

   Ashton blushed and ducked his head slightly, another few curls slipping over his eyes. Luke gently tugged the tanned boy into a cuddly embrace, brushing them away delicately and kissing Ash's forehead. "You look beautiful, baby. Love you," he promised, with fond, turquoise orbs.

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