✔︎Baby | OT4

019

"Here." Calum handed a glass of wine to Nia, his brown fingers brushing her lightly tanned ones. She accepted it with a faint smile, tossing her head back to gulp a majority of the contents. The group wasn't sure when, but at some point after Ashton had fallen asleep curled up on Luke's lap, Michael had disappeared into the basement, and came back with a bottle of alcohol. They'd continued playing Taboo for a few rounds—with Luke merely watching and petting Ashton's curls—before coming to a halt. They'd turned to talking softly, while slowly working themselves into a tipsy, near-drunken stupor.

Nia was slouched against Calum's shoulder, her orange bangs split in the middle like curtains for the makeup that had smeared across her skin. The two of them had hit it off immediately, and a friendship had sparked within moments.

It'd almost happened as quickly as it had with Ashton, though the seventeen-year-old still had the fastest forming friendship with the boys. He'd clicked in like a puzzle piece. The one right in the middle of his three best friends, as though they'd been close, but Ashton was the one who kept them together.

Suddenly, Ash snuffled softly in his sleep, shifting in Luke's lap and curling into a tiny ball. The blonde's crystalline eyes lightened with fondness, gently toying with Ashton's powder blue and pink tresses. Michael crawled over, flopping against the carpet, his head leaned on Luke's thigh. "How you doing, sugarplum?" the lanky lad rolled his eyes, before giggling and patting Mikey's nose gently.

"Great. And you, kitten?" the porcelain skinned boy shifted slightly at the name, before rolling over again to tug Ashton's head of curls onto his denim clad legs. Luke's giggly grin faded, and he wrapped his pale fingers around Ashton's thin ankles. Michael chuckled, leaning his head on the younger eighteen-year-old's broad shoulder.

   "I'm great, ragazzino," he murmured, smirking and ruffling the tall lad's quiff. Emerald eyes lit up with amusement, and he smiled cheekily at his friend. Luke pouted in annoyance, unable to decipher the Italian word.

   Rolling his sapphire eyes, the lanky boy sighed dramatically before speaking. "What does rag-a-zebra mean?" He received a mysterious smile in response. Michael tugged Luke into a side-hug, ruffling his hair.

Miranda, who'd taken Italian since freshman year, snickered softly from her spot slumped unattractively over Casey's lap. Her blonde mass of hair was messily fanned around her head, her bangs partially caught in the longer strands. "You're funny, Michael," she murmured drowsily. "I think you're my favorite," she tacked on, her voice slurring with a mix of sleep and tipsiness. Luke whined softly, though he was more focused on fluffing Mikey's hair. "Sorry, Lucas. You're too..." Miranda gestured vaguely, nearly backhanding Casey.

   "And I'm pretty sure Nia has claimed Cal as her favorite," Rena added. Her sister scoffed, sticking her tongue out. The action was halfhearted, as she was more asleep than anything. Calum had slumped forward, snoring softly, with her using him as a pillow.

None of the teenagers took notice of the fact that Ashton's name hadn't been mentioned. It didn't need to be—he took rank as first, with his adorable self and impossibly kind personality. It didn't need to be said aloud. Michael knew that, and absentmindedly ran his thumb across Ash's bottom lip. The light pink skin was soft and smooth under his touch, though Mikey knew that perfectly well. The teenager moved his pale, slender thumb to Ashton's cheek, his forehead, his nose. The sleeping lad let out a soft, happy sigh, his lips quirking into a slight smile.

   "Beautiful," Luke whispered, resting his head on Michael's shoulder, blue orbs focused on Ashton. The porcelain skinned lad hummed in agreement. He glanced up at the other teenagers, who'd all since fallen into a slightly drunken sleep. Luke's eyes were beginning to flutter, and he looked to be about five seconds from joining them.

   "Pray for a hall smangover," Michael mumbled incoherently, before he too drifted into a dream.

—

"Good morning," Ashton whispered. He was kneeled to whisper in Luke and Michael's ears, the warm scent of coffee wafting from the kitchen. The blonde groaned softly, while Mikey merely covered his ears with a pillow that had somehow appeared during the night. Ash giggled softly, gently rubbing the sleepy boy's shoulder. "There's coffee," he coaxed, easing the pillow away.

   While the paler lad would usually karate chop anyone who messed with his sleep, especially with his slight hangover, Michael couldn't help but comply. He and Luke slowly made their way to the breakfast bar, slumping against it with mugs of coffee. Ashton proceeded to wake up Calum, tentative of the other sleeping teenagers. He murmured a similar greeting to the one directed at Luke and Michael, stroking Calum's dark hair.

   The caramel-skinned boy rolled ungracefully from his spot under a sleeping Nia, and the orangey-red haired girl groaned softly, curling up against her sister. Her dark eyes didn't open throughout the whole process.

   "I'll wake up the others after I get my caffeine," Cal muttered, more to himself than anything. The four boys sat in a comfortable silence, all three eighteen-year-olds sipping coffee. Eventually, Luke grabbed an air horn, covered his ears, and plastered duct tape across the top. He tossed the blaring canister into the living room, before disappearing up the stairs to brush his teeth and get dressed.

   Michael snickered softly at the violent cursing coming from the other room. Casey's groggy voice rang out as he finally located, and stopped the air horn. "You're evil, Lucifer Hemmings!"