✔︎Baby | OT4

002

Ashton, Calum, Luke and Michael entered the school library, the youngest of the four immediately walking towards a bookshelf. He grabbed a few books quickly, and sunk into a squishy love seat in the corner. Around it was an armchair, a black fluffy rug, and a second, matching couch. Despite there being enough seats for the boys to split between the two love seats, they all squished onto one.

Ashton sat on Luke's lap, and Calum sat on Michael's. While the three seniors messed about absentmindedly—Calum immediately beginning to subtly grind against Michael—Ash slipped his laptop from his bag, and flipped through the research books he'd grabbed. Unfortunately, Luke wasn't exactly helping, rubbing his thigh and kissing his neck. That, and Michael was gasping and biting his lip to avoid emitting any sound. Calum had shifted to hide the blue-haired lad's crotch behind his back, and rubbed his hand over the boy's clothed dick.

   Michael attempted to distract himself, leaning against Ashton's shoulder and reading the dizzying words he was typing for a Spanish paper. Unfortunately, Cal hadn't been kidding when he'd called Mikey a "lightweight," and he was soon biting into Ash's shoulder, jerking and flushing dark red. Luke chuckled, petting Michael's sky blue tresses as the pale boy pouted, flopping back against the couch.

   Ashton absentmindedly marked it down in his notebook, while Mikey flopped his head across the blonde's lap. "You suck," the dyed haired boy muttered, gently elbowing Calum.

   "Actually, I don't need to," he chuckled. Luke and Michael both smacked him. Ashton giggled.

   "Three more and you'll beat the daily record," he commented. The boys didn't always have their hands all over one another—well, they weren't always trying to get points—and usually only gained and lost tallies every couple days. The most for one person in a day had been five, a month or so back, when Michael had first gotten his eyebrow piercing, and had the boys popping boners every time they saw him.

   "Keep your hands to yourself," Luke warned. Calum snickered at the hypocrisy. The older blonde currently had one hand gripping Ashton's thigh, the other tracing mindless shapes on his hip, purple shirt pushed up to reveal a slice of tan skin. The hazel and green eyed boy obviously wasn't able to concentrate, typing the same sentence repeatedly—penguins huddle for warmth.

"Do you plan on translating all of that to Spanish?" Michael commented, his head balanced on Ashton's knees and lower thighs. It was a good thing the six foot boy had long legs, with Mikey's head and Cal squeezing his upper thigh. Luke was leant on the blonde's shoulder, murmuring in his ear; the source of Ashton's repetitive typing.

The curly-haired lad let out a whine, deleting the hundreds of words. "Sorry, baby," Luke murmured, pecking the younger boys lips as apology. Ashton closed his eyes with a blissful smile, pouting at the taller boy in hopes for a longer kiss. Luke complied, before standing, accompanied by Michael and Calum, who rolled off of and from underneath Ash.

"We'll let you work," the blue-haired lad murmured, hugging the smaller boy quickly. "Bye, baby."

—

   "Hemmings," Mr. Landeroski said warningly. The blonde teenager was teasingly holding a test tube over Michael's head, as if ready to pour it. He sat squished next to the Calum on one chair, the pale boy and Ashton on the other. Ash, though he was a junior, was too intelligent for a his year, even the advanced classes, and was merely shoved into the seniors classes. Though it was supposed to be two lab partners with one table, the boys always managed to be seated with one another. Mikey, Luke, and Cal had failed for a week straight, insisting they worked better with the other lads.

   "What? It's not like it could hurt any, he's already got so many chemicals in his hair," the blonde defended, before laughing and putting the test tube down. Ashton glanced away from his teacher, focusing on his measurements. Unfortunately, as Luke put the blue liquid down, Calum shifted in his seat, and the contents spilled across the table. Michael yelped in surprise, which shook Ashton's hand, and he dropped the chemicals he was holding.

   As the two mixtures met, a cloud of smoke was almost immediate. The four boys slid away from the table, Michael wrapping his thin arms around Ashton's waist protectively. The curly haired blonde leaned back against his chest, eyes wide with fright as Mr. Landeroski shoved the steaming liquid into a special bag. He tied it off, and after a few minutes, the smoke dissipated.

   "Ashton, stay back after class," Landeroski instructed, before dragging Luke—who'd he apparently decided was at fault—into the hall. The seventeen-year-old pouted anxiously. Michael stroked his curls soothingly, while Calum murmured apologies. The blonde insisted it was okay, though he glanced at the clock like it was counting down to his execution.

The bell rang shrilly. Landeroski reentered, leaving Luke hidden behind the entrance, and shooed the students out. "We'll wait for you outside," Mikey reassured, kissing the younger boy's nose. Calum hugged him quickly, and they exited, the teacher herding them.

Ashton was left standing awkwardly by his table, fiddling with the straps on his bag. Mr. Landeroski beckoned him to stand by the gray-haired man's desk. The blonde walked quickly, realizing just how uncomfortably warm his top was. "Ashton," the teacher murmured, distracting the junior from where he was intently tugging at the fabric. "Look, m'boy, you're very smart. I won't lie, you amaze the school faculty. But, Ashton, you're limiting yourself. We see how close you are with Calum, Luke, and Michael, and that's good, we hope QCT can help to form lasting friendships, but we also want you to reach your full potential. And, Ashton, you allow those three to distract you from your studies, Liz—Mrs. Hemmings—has mentioned her son keeping you out, on nights before tests and such.

"Yet, you pass classes a year ahead of you with flying colors. You'll be an incredible addition to whatever field you choose to work in, but you must learn to resist Luke and Michael and Calum. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Though Ashton was never one to argue with a teacher, what Landeroski was saying offended him. "They don't pressure me to do anything," he said, voice soft and tentative in his teachers presence. He'd always been delicate and shy, only really comfortable around his three best friends. The boy glanced towards the door, and his teacher sighed softly.

"Just remember what I said, Ashton. You can go." The teenager was out like a shot, Luke wrapping him in his ivory pale arms.

A/N I'll do weekly updates, every Monday, whoop.