✔︎Ballerina Boy ❥ ot4

❥one❥

❥One❥

            "Hey, Marquis!" Calum slid across the seat of a buttery stool. It stood by a long counter, with a salad bar at the end. Behind it was a wall with fridges and cabinets and smaller counters, along with a white door that lead to a kitchen. A muscular man stood behind the counters, clad in a white button up shirt that fit snugly around his biceps. He wore a black apron over top of it, that was impeccably clean and smooth.

"Now, where were you three boys at breakfast?" Marquis said teasingly, flipping the longish blonde hair out of his face. Calum sat with his boyfriends, Michael and Luke. Michael was quietly listening to Luke rant animatedly about the pros and cons of oil paints, waving his charcoal, paint, and graphite stained hands around.

"Lu got lost in a painting and Mikey just had to finish editing," Calum explained, playfully bumping his shoulder against Michael's. The lavender-haired boy chuckled, and Luke paused his rant. Michael kissed him briefly before the artist could continue. "But do you think you could make us something?" Calum asked hopefully, smiling with the brilliance of the sun itself.

            "Just for you," Marquis said, wrapping his hair in a hairnet before turning to the back counters and started making three smoothies. Calum turned to his boyfriends as they waited, bouncing around in his seat like an overexcited puppy. He didn't even seem to be aware that he was doing it. The soccer player had always been filled with excessive energy, which was a huge part of what has gotten him into Australia's Academy for the Gifted. He put most of the energy into his studies and his major—soccer.

            Marquis suddenly slid the freshly made smoothies towards the three high schoolers, removing his hairnet as soon as he finished. "Thanks, Marquis!" Calum said, and he stopped bouncing just long enough to chug the mango smoothie. "It's fucking great!" he said. Michael gently covered the footballer's mouth before Calum could swear again. The teachers and staff at Australia's Academy for the Gifted (AAG) didn't tolerate cursing in their presence. Calum, unfortunately, had no filter, and curses slid from his mouth almost constantly.

Just before Marquis could swat the teenager with a spoon, the large cafeteria doors flung open and a slim boy stumbled in. He had sun-kissed skin and innocent doe eyes, a shock of dirty blonde hair and soft pink lips. A guitar was on his back, and he dragged two suitcases by his side. He looked up to see four sets of eyes on him, and spoke unsurely. "Hi?" As the boy stepped, he tripped on the wheel of his suitcase and stumbled a few feet forward.

"Are you okay?" Calum jogged forward, stabilising the tanned lad.

"Yeah," he murmured, blushing brightly.

Luke was speaking before the boy could say anything else. "Are you new?" The hazel-eyed boy nodded. "What's your name? Are you a music prodigy?" Luke asked, gesturing to the guitar.

"Ashton Irwin. And no, I'm a, uh, ballet major," the tanned boy responded, as Luke, Calum, and Michael walked closer to him. He looked nervous about what the response would be, and was speaking again before anyone could formulate a response. "I'm lost, and this seemed like a good place to start."

"You'll be in the dancers' wing," Luke said, whilst Calum bounced lightly on his toes. "We'll show you," he said, grabbing Ashton's hand and the handle of one suitcase. "Come on, Bambi." Michael grabbed the other one, and Calum excitedly lead the way. Luke couldn't help but notice how small Ashton was; he barely reached Luke's head. "How tall are you?"

"I'm six feet," the blonde responded, tugging at his curls shyly.

Luke quite literally gasped. "That's so tall," he said animatedly.

"You're 6'4," Michael reminded, but Luke ignored him and continued speaking.

"What if you fall while you're dancing? You'll, like, die," he said, deserving an adorable giggle from Ashton.

"He's a ballet prodigy," Michael spoke up. "I don't think he'll fall." Ashton blushed, dusting his cheeks with a rosy colour that was similar to pink lemonade. "What room are you in?" Michael asked as they turned into the dance wing. Ashton listed off the number without glancing at his orientation papers. A brilliant memory was a large part of the reason he was attending the best school in Australia.

            As they walked through the dance wing, Ashton noted that the doors varied in appearance; they were all painted different colours, but some were done beautifully whilst others hid messy paint streaks behind posters and pictures. Calum eventually stopped outside of a room with a plain door, the off-white colour standing out because of how plain it was. Luke visibly pouted at the sight. "You can decorate the door however you want," he said whilst Ashton unlocked his door.

            Luke spoke again at the sight of the square room. "Same with the room." The bed had a memory foam mattress, but the bedding was a plain white with two pillows propped by the headboard. The walls were completely bare, painted the same off-white as the door. The floor was covered in plush white carpeting, and a simple desk and bookshelf were against the left wall, the bed on the right, and a window seat took up most of the space on the back wall. A dresser stood to the left of the door. "I can paint the walls," Luke offered, his voice vibrant with excitement.

            Though it was just an offer, he started walking around the room, mumbling about the space and squinting as if to envision the walls covered in paint. Michael made a move to reel the lanky boy back in, but Ashton spoke before the pale boy could grab Luke. "Really?" he asked excitedly. "You'd do that?" Luke nodded happily, his hair gel struggling to keep the quiff in place.

            Ashton's smile seem to light up the whole room. The accepted offer of a paint job was more than it seemed; it was an acceptance of friendship, and, if Michael, Calum, and Luke had their way, something more.