✔︎Ballerina Boy ❥ ot4

❥twelve❥

❥Twelve❥

Ashton woke up to an empty room. He glanced around sadly, fighting the insecurity and gloominess when Calum, Luke, and Michael weren't there. The ballerina got ready and dressed quickly, sliding into the black spandex short shorts and slim fitting white t-shirt he wore under his costume. It was the day of the ballet production, the one he was starring in. The ballerina slid sweatpants on over his shorts, the fluffy fabric gliding across his waxed legs. Once he was ready, Ashton carefully pulled his door open, to reveal the three boys he'd been missing. They'd been staring at Ashton's newly decorated door.

            The ballerina had used a pot of pink paint that Luke had left in his room to create a large heart. In the centre, Ashton had taped three pictures. One was of Luke, clad in a baggy hoodie and sprawled across the back of a couch in his dorm. His head was thrown back, and the camera had captured him mid-laugh. The next was of Michael, spread-eagled on the plush carpet of Ashton's floor. The pale boy was grinning lazily, his hair wet from a shower, and a fluffy white towel was thrown across his bare chest. The last picture featured Calum, lying on his back by a wall. The footballer's long legs were leaned on the wall above his head, casting a faint shadow across his chuckling face. Three medals framed the pictures—showcase medals, belonging to Calum, Luke, and Michael.

            "This is beautiful," Luke murmured, before Ashton was enveloped in a group hug. "Why are you up so early?"

"It's a big performance, so we have kids from the best elementary school in the country dancing in it. I'm doing some last minute practice and watching them for the morning," Ashton said. "Want to come with me? I've been practicing with them for a while, and the kids are really great," he continued, smiling with brilliantly white teeth.

Michael, Calum, and Luke nodded.

—

"Fletches!" A whoop echoed through the gymnasium as Ashton entered, followed by his three best friends. A child who looked to be about twelve jogged across the smooth floor, skidding to a stop in front of the lanky teenagers. "Wait, who are these dudes?" the kid asked, tilting their head and causing a mop of streaky blondish-black hair to cover their eyes.

Ashton introduced them quickly, pointing at each boy in turn. "That's Michael, Calum, and Luke," he said. "And this is Goldie," the ballerina continued, gesturing at the twelve-year-old. They had longish hair that was cut in a masculine style, starting at the back of their head. It brushed the young dancer's long black eyelashes and covered their ears. Bright purplish-green eyes shone as the mildly tanned kid looked up at the taller boys.

            "My mother had visions of Goldilocks when she was giving birth to me," Goldie said, gesturing at their pitchy hair. There were hints of blonde dyed into it, creating an image that looked like they'd started with a black layer of paint, specked it with blonde, and then blended it all together with a paintbrush. "And I'm far too lazy to bother bleaching all of it," Goldie continued. "Anyways, Fletches, come hang or practice or something with us. Your tall lover-boys can watch." Ashton giggled, allowing the child to drag him along.

            "Have you fucked them yet?" Goldie whispered, keeping their voice low so that the younger kids didn't hear. Ashton blushed and gently bumped his shoulder against the child.

            "Special dance," he corrected. The many elementary kids scampered over to crowd Ashton.

            "Tell us the story again!" a small girl called, bouncing excitedly on her blue ballet shoes. "Please, Ashy!"