#and i was gonna slap some nail polish on em too </33

[4izawas]

we love cutting ourselves enough to bleed with our own fingernails on accident <3

[ghosttotheparty]

say my name and say it twice (cotton candy skies)

33. also on AO3 chapter thirty-two

Lucas has a habit that Jens loves. 

When he’s thinking or focusing, he rubs the polish on his nails. Usually, it’s when he’s drawing or painting, Jens has noticed. He’ll take a step back or lean back and look at the paper or canvas, his brows drawn together, his eyes intense, souring, his lips almost pouting in concentration, and unless he’s holding pencils or brushes (sometimes several in one hand), his hands will draw together and his fingers will run the shiny polish on one of his nails until he leans back in and continues working.

It’s endearing, and Jens smiles every time he sees him doing it. He doesn’t think Lucas realises he’s doing it. 

Jens doesn’t realise he does it himself until he’s backstage, stretching, and he has to stop rubbing his nail to reach over his extended legs. He smiles to himself when he realises, despite his nerves.

It’s dim, which probably isn’t helping his anxiety. Neither is the bustle of the backstage, dancers quickly changing costumes, chatting idly as they strip their leotards and skirts and `smooth down their hair. He can feel his heartbeat, speeding in his veins as he stands and stretches his back, trying to slow his breathing to go with the piano music playing. He can see through the wings, seeing dancers fly through the air and spin across the stage, and he shakes his hands like they’re wet, jumping up and down slightly, trying to relax. 

When he takes a slight step to his left, he can see the audience, just a sliver. He knows how many people are there, knows how many seats are filled, but his breath still stutters in his throat. He shakes his head and steps back, looking away and inhaling deeply. 

Lucas is out there somewhere. And Moyo. And Aaron. And Robbe. And Sander (who texted Jens to make sure it was okay if he came). And Lotte. And his mom. He doubts they’re all sitting together, though, as it’s not like Lotte and the guys are best friends. (Though Lotte and Lucas do get along well every time they talk. But Lucas hasn’t met his mom yet. They could meet tonight, he supposes, but that just sents another jolt through his heart, causes another swoop in his stomach, and he shakes the thought away. One worry at a time.) 

He also knows there are some ballet hotshots somewhere in the audience as well. They’re probably why Cecile is so anxious tonight too. She almost seems more rushed than the dancers changing costumes, giving instructions and refreshing some dancers on their routines. Her hair is up in a messy bun, messier than usual, that it, with strands messily tucked behind her ears and falling in front of her eyes rather than gracefully framing her face. When she catches Jens’s eye she sends him a thumbs up and a radiant smile, bright as the spotlights, and he grins back, but it drops off his face as soon as she looks away. 

He finds himself rubbing the nail polish again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He rocks back and forth on his feet (ignoring the discomfort caused by his pointe shoes), and listens to the music. 

“Hey, babe,” Lena’s voice says, and Jens opens his eyes, seeing her come close. She’s beaming, her eyes wrinkling at the corners, distorting the precise wings of eyeliner that sparkle as light from the stage falls on her. “You ready? You’re up soon.” Jens nods, shaking his hands again and she steps up close. 

“Come here,” she says, reaching up and holding his face between her hands. Her skirt presses against his legs but he ignores it, bending slightly so their foreheads press together and closing his eyes. She takes in a deep breath and he copies her, pressing his hands to his legs to stop their shaking before they take another together. 

“You’re good,” she says, taking her head away but still holding his face. 

He nods.

“Say it. You’re good.” 

“I’m good,” he says, smiling weakly. 

“You’re gonna do amazing,” she says, nodding encouragingly. When he’s quiet, she shakes his head, making his laugh. 

“I’m gonna do amazing,” he whispers. 

“Yes, you are.” She leans up and kisses his forehead before letting go, and he smiles at her. “And in this?” She runs a finger down his chest, over the mesh shirt he’s wearing, tickling him, and he giggles, pushing her away. “You said Lucas is here tonight right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Baby boy is going to be steaming by the time you’re done.” 

“Shut up, Lena.” He can feel his face heating up.

“I’m right.” 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Jens, you’re up!” a girl’s voice says, and Jens startles, looking at her. “Come on!” 

Lena slaps his arm, pushing him forward. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” she says, and Jens grins nervously. 

LUCAS

Lucas has had a passionate love for ballet since meeting Jens. 

He knew close to nothing about ballet, except for the bare minimum knowledge about pointe shoes, but he loves listening to Jens talk about it. He gets so enthusiastic, so animated. His eyes get bright and sparkly and he talks with his hands, gesturing and demonstrating as Lucas watches fondly, his chin in his hands. 

He understands why he loves it so much. 

It’s fucking beautiful.

And when Jens practices, he gets completely peaceful. Sometimes his eyes close. 

Lucas told him that when he dances, he’s making art, and he meant it. He can see it in his face. He looks the way Lucas feels when he paints. 

Lucas is anxious for Jens’s performance. 

He’s excited to see him dance, to really dance, to let loose and bare his soul, to see how he lets that part of himself take over completely. 

Jens has talked to Lucas about it. 

“It feels like I always have to hold back. Except when I’m on stage.’ 

Lucas is also nervous, mainly because he knows Jens is nervous. Jens had called him before the recital started, before Lucas had shut off his phone. The guys had all been standing outside, and Aaron was jokingly hitting on Sander, telling him how handsome he looked. 

“I’m nervous,” Jens had said almost immediately after Lucas had answered.

“That’s okay,” he responded, shoving Moyo playfully. “You’re going to be amazing, baby.” 

“I’m still nervous.” 

And Lucas is too. 

He rubs the polish on his thumb nail as he moves leans back into his seat, watching as the dark curtains draw together. He takes a deep breath. The program says Jens is next. 

He can sense the guys grinning in anticipation, but he doesn’t turn to look at them: Sander right next to him, then Robbe (holding Sander’s hand), then Moyo, then Aaron. Lucas’s gaze remains trained on the curtains, the velvety fabric still shifting slightly after drawing closed. 

Then they start to open. 

Lucas leans forward, letting go of his nail, setting his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t see Sander elbow Robbe and gesture to him, both of them smiling fondly. 

When the curtains come to a stop, a light comes on, shining on the stage.

On Jens.

Even from his seat in the audience, Lucas can see the smoky black makeup winging off his eyelids, no doubt carefully smudged there by Lena, the mesh, netted long sleeve shirt that just covers his skin, the black leggings, the shine of his black pointe shoes. Lucas can see the muscles of his chest and arms move as he begins to dance. For a second, Lucas forgets that there’s music, and when he remembers, he doesn’t bother paying attention to it. It has nothing on Jens. 

He dances. 

He dances, and dances, and dances.

When he leaps, he leaps higher than Lucas thought possible. 

There’s a smile on his face the whole time, a small, focused, relaxed smile, like the music is running through his veins. Lucas wonders for a second if that’s what he looks like when he paints. He feels Sander touch his leg for a second, a gentle, supportive rub on his knee, and Lucas sends him a glancing smile before looking back to the stage.

Jens dances. 

But when it feels like this is him, something changes. He falters. 

He stops.

JENS

The music is still playing. 

It feels like the whole auditorium is paused, watching him carefully, holding their breaths. He can almost feel Cecile’s eyes on him. The lights on him are almost blinding. He can only see the silhouettes of the audience.

There are so many people. 

So many eyes.

All he can hear is Lucas’s voice.

That’s why I like watching you dance.

You’re making art.

There are so many people. 

So many eyes.

They’re still exposing a little piece of their soul for the world to see.

Hear.

And that’s beautiful.

There are so many people.

So many eyes.

Watching.

Listening.

Jens isn’t saying what he needs to say.

LUCAS

Lucas has shifted to the edge of his seat, biting his lip with worry.

He wishes he could talk to him, whisper to him just so he could hear him. 

It’s okay.

Keep going.

When he starts to move again, something is different.

He looks… 

Like Jens. 

Real. 

Like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. 

He makes it look effortless, flying across the stage and through the air, so peaceful and at ease he looks almost sleepy, looking like he’s moving in slow-motion mid-air. Swinging his arms in the air until he throws himself through it as the music crashes like thunder, and landing on the ground. Swinging up into an arabesque, fucking effortlessly, like he’s swimming. A small hop with his arms raised before a leap and a flip in the air, landing on his feet before turning on his feet, spinning and spinning and spinning until his body slows and his back arches, and he falls. 

There isn’t a second of hesitation in him, not a single cell that’s out of place. 

It’s like he’s breathing and the whole world is breathing with him.

JENS

The music speeds up and Jens keeps up with it. 

He’s tired. But exhilarated. 

He feels real.

He feels alive. 

He takes up the whole stage, spinning in the air until he’s on the other side. He can feel that the gel in his hair isn’t holding, feeling his hair whip across his face and fall as he lands. 

He dances. 

He exists.

And exists.

And exists.

And exists.

And when the music finally comes to a stop, he does. 

But his heart is still beating.

And his skin finally fits just the way it’s supposed to. 

--- 

They’re still clapping when Jens leaves the stage. He’s fucking exhausted, breathless and sweating, but he freezes when he sees Cecile. She’s staring at him, a few strands of hair hanging in her face, clutching a clipboard to her chest. He can’t read her face, and the dimness of the wings isn’t helping.

“Hi,” he tries, smiling nervously. 

“What the hell was that?” she asks sharply. 

 “Uhm…” He looks away for a second, feeling his face heat up. He can’t bring himself to regret it, bad as he feels for disregarding her choreography. He steps closer. “I’m sorry, I just—” 

“That was incredible.” 

He stops, confused. Music starts to play loudly on stage as other dancers begin their routines, and Cecile grabs his arm, pulling him aside so they can hear each other.

“I— What?” 

“What was that?” she says again, looking at him with wide eyes. Jens would think she looks awestruck f he didn’t know her better. “I mean, it was, like, ballet, and contemporary, and…” 

“I don’t know,” Jens says finally. “I was just…” he shrugs. 

“Incredible,” she repeats, shaking her head and looking at him, and yeah, maybe she is awestruck. 

--- 

Jens sits on the floor until the rest of the performances are over. He gets a few looks, but he’s so tired he can’t bring himself to care. He wants to take off his pointe shoes but he doesn’t, hitting his heels against the ground to give his toes space. He almost falls asleep, his back against a wall, until he hears Cecile’s voice call his name. 

He joins the other dancers on stage for the final bow, and he’s almost forgotten how bright the lights are. It’s also almost deafening. He hopes Lotte is okay. 

---  

Jens grabs his bag from backstage chatting idly with the other boys as he takes off his pointe shoes and puts them in the bag after taking out his hoodie, coat, and shoes. 

“I’m so hungry, dude,” one dancer said, stumbling as he pulls his leotard off his ankles where it had gotten caught, and there is a chorus of “Me too,” and “Same.” Jens sighs, stretching and popping his back before pulling on the hoodie.

“Jens, you’re not even gonna change?” someone asks, and Jens just gives him a blank look, making a few of them laugh. 

“I’m too tired,” he says, unfolding the hem of his hoodie at his hips. “I’ll change tonight. Maybe.” 

“This shit’s so uncomfortable, I don’t know how you can handle it.” 

Jens chuckled, watching another boy trip on his tights. 

“I think my exhaustion has reached the point of me no longer being in my body,” he says, gesturing to his body with a hand. “I’m completely numb. All I need is a nap. And dinner.” 

He carefully tucks his coat over his back so it doesn’t fall and, after sliding on his shoes and placing his pointe shoes in his bag, makes his way into the auditorium, using the handrail in the small, dark stairway that leads out from backstage. He winces for a second when he gets out of the stairway, startled by the bright overhead lights that came on after all the dancers had left the stage, and then he realises he doesn’t know where to go. 

His mom usually meets him here, but he doesn’t see her anywhere. And he doesn’t see the guys anywhere. 

But after he stands there for a second, wondering if he should fish his phone out of his bag to text someone, Lucas appears, looking lost. He has to pause on his way down, letting a parent pass him, and then his eyes catch on Jens, and they brighten. He’s holding a bouquet of roses, and Jens’s heart swells.

LUCAS

Lucas forgets what he was going to say to him. 

He steps closer to Jens, who’s standing at the bottom of the stage, holding the strap of his bag in his hand, and looking at Lucas like he just pulled the moon through a window. The makeup around his eyes is more smudged than it was when he was dancing like he’s absentmindedly rubbed at it. 

“Hi,” Jens says when they’re standing close to each other, and Lucas opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out. After a few seconds of staring at Jens, who stares right back, he shoves the bouquet at him, looking at it before looking back to Jens with an almost hopeful expression. 

“I brought these for you,” he says.

“Thank you,” Jens says, taking them and smiling. 

“I—” Lucas cuts off, unsure of what to say, what to do. Jens seems different. A good different. A different that makes Lucas wants to pull him in by the strings of his hoodie and kiss him breathless.

They stare at each other for a few more seconds, save for Jens looking down at the roses happily, at the red ribbon tying them all together, and Lucas begins to smile. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks finally, and Jens just nods, looking relieved.

So he does, passing through the last few steps between them until Jens is close enough for Lucas to reach up and grab his face, pulling him down until their mouths crash together. He feels Jens’s arms wrap around his waist, the flowers bumping him accidentally, pulling closer until he’s on his tiptoes, Jens’s face between his palms as he bites Jens’s lip gently. Jens sighs, tilting his head, and Lucas pulls away, smiling as Jens chases him before opening his eyes. 

He doesn’t realise he’s crying until Jens sets him back down and lets go of his waist, reaching up with his free hand and gently wiping under his eye. 

“Don’t cry,” Jens says softly, smiling. “You’re gonna mess up your makeup.”

“Sorry,” Lucas chokes out, laughing lightly. “I’m just…” He reaches up and wipes his eye carefully, shrugging. 

“Just what?” Jens asks quietly. 

“Proud of you,” he whispers, and Jens smiles again, glancing down at his lips as he says it. 

“Come here,” Jens whispers back, and he pulls him in again, slipping a warm hand over Lucas’s neck, and Lucas smiles against his mouth. Jens’s fingers tangle in Lucas’s curls as Lucas pulls him closer, his hands squishing Jens’s cheeks. Jens sighs, still smiling, and Lucas feels the roses on his side as Jens’s hand moves.

“Did you like it?” Jens murmurs when they pull away, and whether he means the recital or the kiss, Lucas nods, leaning up again. Jens grins and kisses him gently. 

‘“Fucking phenomenal,” Lucas says softly, but when he opens his eyes, Jens is looking past him, over his shoulder. Lucas pauses, taking in his face, his lips pressed together in an awkward, suppressed smile, his brows raised. 

He turns, hesitantly, expecting maybe Robbe, but finds a middle-woman, making the same face as Jens, standing next to Lotte, who’s grasping a colourful bouquet in her hands. Lucas’s heart drops. He steps away from Jens, to his side, and looks back at the woman, who looks from him to Jens with just a hint of a smile on her face. 

As they stare in awkward, strained silence, Jens’s free hand finds Lucas’s. Lucas glances down, seeing Jens’s fingers twine with his, and he steps closer, holding onto Jens’s arm subconsciously with his free hand. Jens’s mom glances down at their hands before looking up at them again, opening her mouth and taking a breath. 

“Uhm…” 

“His name is Lucas,” Lotte says abruptly, and all three of them look at here. “He’s Dutch.”

Lucas can’t stop the smile spreading across his face.

“Lucas!” Jens’s mom says finally, stepping forward and holding a hand out. Lucas lets go of Jens’s arm and shakes her hand apprehensively. “So nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he says awkwardly and she gives him a warm smile that lightens his heart a little. 

“Jens?” She looks at Jens and tilts her head. “A moment?” 

Jens sighs and nods, squeezing Lucas’s hand before letting go. Lucas watches as they step away, their backs to him, his heart beating fast. He swallows, taking a deep breath before looking at Lotte, who’s also watching them. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi. Why are your shoes tall?” 

“Uh…” He looks down, lifting a foot so look at his shoes, a pair of black leather shoes with platform bottoms. “I like them,” he says. “And Jens doesn’t have to bend over too much to kiss me.” 

She nods. 

“He is tall,” she says, and Lucas hums in agreement. “We brought these for him.” She holds up the flowers, a bunch of vibrant Gerbera daisies, and Lucas smiles.

“Did you pick them out?”

“Mm… Kind of.” She looks at the flowers fondly. “I picked them a while ago and we get them for every recital he has.” 

“He must like them.” Lucas glances up to look at Jens and his mom. They’re too far away to hear, but they both look like they’re smiling. Jens is holding the roses to his chest. 

“We all do. Mommy puts them in a vase on the dinner table.” She pauses, looking at them. “I like how they feel.” She lifts a hand and rubs a petal lightly. 

“Can I?” Lucas says, and she nods, so he sits, making the seat creak as he pulls it down. He touches a petal that isn’t near her hand. 

“That is nice,” he says, pulling his hand back. “Very soft. I want a blanket that feels like that.” Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. 

“I want a blanket that feels like a cat,” she says. 

“What kind of cat?” 

She shrugs, her eyes still trained on the flowers. 

“I don’t know, just a cat.” 

“Well you have to be specific,” Lucas says, tilting his head. “There are a million kinds of cats, you don’t want a blanket that feels like a hairless cat.” 

She looks up at him, furrowing her brow, looking a lot like Jens, and it takes everything in Lucas not to grin. 

“A hairless cat?” 

“Yeah, a hairless cat. You’ve seen them, haven’t you?” 

“No,” she says sassily, and yeah, she’s definitely Jens’s sister. 

“You’ve never— Hang on.” Lucas shifts in his seat, pulling out his phone. 

JENS

“I just wish you would have told me sooner,” his mom is saying. “But it’s fine. We can invite him over for dinner sometime.” 

Jens suppresses a smile, twisting the flowers in his hand, and he glances to where Lucas is. He’s sitting on a seat, showing Lotte something on his phone. Suppression doesn’t work. He smiles. Then he looks up at him mom, who softens. 

“I love you,” she says.

“I love you too.” 

She looks over at Lucas and Lotte, and Jens follows her gaze, almost beaming. Lotte looks happy. Lucas is laughing. 

“Has she met him before?” his mom asks, and Jens sighs happily.

“Yeah.” 

 “Why am I always the last to know things?” she huffs, and Jens snickers as they make their way back to them. 

“Hey,” he says softly as they approach them, and Lucas looks up, his eyes shining, his lips curved into a smile. 

“Hi,” he says, sounding cheerful.

“Mom, can we get a hairless cat?” Lotte asks. 

“What?” Jens and his mom say simultaneously, and Lucas lets out a giggle before covering his mouth and looking at Jens’s mom. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. 

“Lotte, we’ll talk about this later,” she says to Lotte, and Lotte turns to Lucas, looking hopeful.

“That’s not a no,” she says, and Lucas laughs harder, looking at Jens as his mom lets out a “Hey!” 

“These are for you,” Lotte says, holding out the daisies, and Jens takes them, smiling. 

“Do you want to hold them?” he asks, and she immediately nods, holding her hands back out. She smiles when she’s holding them again, sniffing them lightly. “Do you want to hold these too?” he asks. “These are from Lucas.” 

She nods, looking up, and he hesitates, inspecting the stems. 

“There shouldn’t be any thorns,” Lucas says, seeing his pause, so Jens hands them to Lotte. She wraps her arms around both bouquets, looking happy. 

Jens reaches down, grabbing Lucas’s hand and pulling him so he stands, and the seat snaps shut. Lucas stands and Jens laces their fingers, brushing his thumb over the back of his hand.  

“So Lucas, Lotte says you’re Dutch?” Jens’s mom says after a moment.

“Uh, yes ma’am, I moved here from Utrecht,” Lucas says, and Jens can sense his nerves, so he squeezes his hand. “I live with my cousin, he’s a friend of Jens’s.” 

“Oh, is that how you met?” 

“Uhm…?” Lucas looks at Jens, laughter in his eyes. 

“Not exactly,” Jens says, but he’s interrupted by a loud “Jens!” 

He turns to find Lens stalking down the walkway between seats, swinging her pointe shoes in her hand, followed by Rosa and Damien. 

“I’m going to go find Cecile,” his mom says, and Jens looks back at her. “Lotte, you coming?” 

“No, I wanna stay,” Lotte says softly, and her mom nods, smiling, before she steps away, her chin raised to try and see over peoples’ heads in the back of the auditorium. 

Jens looks back just in time to be shoved by Lena, and he’s already laughing. 

“What the fuck was that?” she asks aggressively, and then her shoulder is shoved by Rosa. 

“Lena!”

“What?” 

Lena sticks a hand out to Lotte, whose face is half-buried in the flowers, but her broad, amused grin can still be seen. 

“Oh shit, sorry, honey. Ah fuck. Oh shit. Oh my—”

“Stop talking,” Jens interrupts before Rosa can send a slap to Lena’s head, and he steps forward, letting go of Lucas’s hand and pulls her into a hug. She wraps her arms around him, jumping up.

“That was— incredible!” she exclaims, and Jens laughs lightly into her neck, knowing she made a conscious effort to exclude fucking from the sentence. She pulls away and grabs his chin with her hand, turning it while studying his face. “And your makeup held up well!”

“You did it, right?” Lucas asks from behind him, and Jens lets go of her waist, stepping back and taking Lucas’s hand again. 

“Yeah, did Jens tell you?” 

Jens glances at Lotte and he catches her waving at Damien, who gives her a silly wink. Jens smiles. 

“No, I just assumed because it’s dark and dramatic.” 

Rosa lets out an “Ooooh…” and Damien gasps, looking back and forth between Lucas and Lena. Jens presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. 

“I’m not even offended, that’s a compliment,” Lena says finally, and Lucas laughs, holding a hand out, and Lena slaps their palms together before fist-bumping him. Jens rolls his eyes, smiling. 

“Oh, I see Sander,” Lucas says before Jens can say anything, and he lifts his hand and waves. 

“Sander?” Damien asks, voicing Lena and Rosa’s questions as well, the three of them with identical confused expressions. 

“Yeah, uh…” He sighs, glancing in the direction Lucas is looking and seeing a flash of white hair as Sander grabs Robbe’s hand and pats Moyo’s shoulder before making their way down the walkway. “You’re about to meet some of my friends.” 

Damien gasps again, slapping his hands over his mouth. 

“Are you for real?” he asks, leaning forward, feigning shock, and Jens kicks him gently. 

“Shut up.” 

“That was incredible, dude,” Robb says when they reach him, ignoring everyone else’s presence and letting go of Sander’s hand to hug Jens. 

“Thanks, Robbe,” he says, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck. He feels strangely relieved. 

“That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Aaron says after Robbe and Jens let go of each other, and Jens snorts, wrapping an arm around Lucas’s shoulders. 

“You have a girlfriend,” Sander reminds him, raising his eyebrows, and Aaron stares blankly at Jens, who tries desperately not to laugh, wincing at Aaron and grinning.

“That was the second prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he says finally, and Sander slaps him on the shoulder. 

“Anyway. Don’t you all look nice and spiffy,” Jens said, reaching out and tugging the lapel of  Moyo’s jacket. 

“Yeah, bro, I told you, I’m classy.” 

“Clearly.” 

“Jens,” Lena says, looking at him intently, expectantly, and Lucas snickers quietly, elbowing him in the side. 

“Oh, sorry, uhm…” He takes a deep breath. “This is Moyo, Aaron, Sander, and Robbe.” He points at all of them as he says their names. “And this is Lena, Damien, Rosa. And you know Lotte,” he adds, gesturing at her with a jerk of his chin. They all wave. 

“Jens, honestly I was beginning to doubt if you even had friends,” Lena says, breaking the ice. Moyo lets out an “Oof…” and Jens nods. 

“There is it,” he mutters, and Lucas giggles, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him closer.

“I saw you guys up there, too,” Robbe says, nodding at Damien and Rosa, who are standing closer to each other than they should be. (Jens wants to reach out and push Rosa so she falls against him.) “You were amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Rosa says sweetly. 

“How long have you been doing ballet?” Sander asks, draping an arm across Robbe’s shoulder and Robbe leans into him, seemingly without even thinking about it. 

“Oh gosh…” Rosa says, sighing and smiling happily. “As long as I can remember?”

“I started when I was seven,” Damien says. 

“I was four,” Lena adds with finger guns. Aaron does it back, and Lena laughs with delight as Jens shakes his head. 

“Jens!” Jens’s mom’s voice calls from up the walkway, and he looks up. There are significantly fewer people, a few families dawdling on their way outside, and his mom is standing next to Cecile, another woman and a man, dressed in elegant grey suits. He sighs nervously and Lucas squeezes him.

“They’re probably gonna get on me for messing up the choreography,” he says, taking a deep breath and letting his arm fall from Lucas’s shoulder. 

“You messed up the choreography?” Aaron asks, and Jens pauses on his way to the walkway to send him a look. 

“Big-time,” Lena says behind him. “Threw it out the window.”

LUCAS

Lucas hears the others start to chat again but he’s not listening. He just watching Jens make his way to his mother, clutching the strap of his bag with both hands in nervousness. Lucas sighs, fidgeting with his fingers, rubbing the polish of his nails, wishing he could go with him. 

Jens’s back is to him and he can’t read his face. 

So Lucas tries to tune back into the conversation in front of him. Jens will tell him what’s going on later.

Lucas turns slightly to face his friends more, watching as Lena cackles and high-fives Moyo, not knowing why, and he smiles. He looks past them all and sees Lotte sitting on one of the seats, looking down at the flowers. 

“Lotte!” he calls, just loud enough for her to hear him, and she looks up. “You okay?” 

She nods, her expression light, before she gets up and goes around the group of teenagers to stand at his side, and then she looks up at him. 

“Can you pick me up?” she asks, and Lucas pauses, surprised. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

He bends down and she lifts her arms, carefully clutching the flowers so she doesn’t drop them, and when he rises he places her on his hip, both arms wrapped around her. Her dress is soft and he adjusts it so it isn’t riding up. 

“It’s not too loud for you?” he asks her softly, tilting his head. 

“Not anymore,” she says. “It was when they were clapping but I was ready.” 

“I’m glad,” Lucas says, jostling her affectionately.

He glances back up to where Jens is. He still can’t tell what’s going on, whether it’s positive or negative. 

“That’s my shit, dude!” Lena exclaims, grabbing Moyo’s shoulder and pushing him as he laughs, her voice startling Lucas back into the environment. 

“Lena!” Rosa, Damien, and Robbe say accusatorily, and she claps a hand over her mouth, turning to where Lucas is holding Lotte. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says to Lotte, letting the hand fall, and Lotte giggles.

“I might need you to cover your ears,” Lucas tells her.

“No, it’s funny!” 

“Oh, my god, I love you, Lotte,” Lena says, laughing. 

“You’re not allowed to say anything Lena says, you know that, right?” Lucas asks.

“I know,” she responds sassily, making Lena burst out with laughter again.

JENS

“What?” Jens asks dumbly after a moment of staring blankly at the man in grey. He feels his mom run over the top of his back and he leans into it.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says, smiling. “We’d just like you to think about it.”

“I— Yeah— Uhm…” He shakes his head, trying to put together a cohesive sentence, but the man seems to understand, and he holds out a business card to Jens between two fingers. Jens didn’t even see him take it out of his pocket. He glances at his mom before taking it gently, smiling as he looks down at it and reads it. 

“Well, we’d best be off,” the woman in the suit says. She shakes Cecile’s hand, and then Jens’s mom’s, and then holds her hand out to Jens. He puts the card in his pocket and takes her hand, still speechless. She smiles warmly at him. “We hope to hear from you soon.” 

She nods, still smiling, when he just stares at her, and then the man shakes his hand, and then they leave. And Jens just stands there, his hand still raised in the air, until his mom’s arms wrap around him and pull him close. She’s laughing. 

“I have to go see some parents before they leave, but…” Cecile turns and points at Jens as she starts to walk away. “You’ll text me later, right?” 

“I— Yeah,” he says, dropping his hands and shaking his head, reaching up and holding his mom’s arm that’s across his chest. 

She points at him one more time, grinning, and then turns to jog up the walkway to where some families are. 

“So?” his mom asks when Cecile is out of sight. “What are you thinking?”

He turns to face her and wraps his arms around her, lifting her up slightly, and she laughs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I don’t know,” he says, setting her down and stepping back to look at her. “I’m gonna think about it, but I…” He shakes his head in disbelief and she smiles, nodding. 

“Take your time, sweetheart. Go see your friends.” She nods in the direction of all of them, and Jens turns to look. 

Sander’s arm is still draped around Robbe’s shoulders and Robbe is leaning into him. He can hear them laughing and can see Lena saying something dramatically to Moyo. Lucas is holding Lotte, and she’s holding the flowers, looking at Lena, smiling. He can hear Damien laughing. 

All of his worlds, colliding. 

And everything is okay. 

Everything is perfect.

He stands there, looking, and wraps his arm around his mom again, pulling her closer. 

“What’s up?” she asks, looking up at him, and he shakes his head, his mouth twisting into a smile. 

He shrugs. 

“I’m happy,” he says finally. 

“Well, let’s go be happy over there. I think it’s almost time to go home.” 

“Oh, uhm…” he stops her as she steps forward, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her back. She looks at him. “Would it… be okay if Lucas and I go to get something to eat? I didn’t eat before the recital, I was too nervous.” 

She sighs, turning back to where Lucas is holding Lotte, the both of them laughing and whatever Lena’s saying now. 

“Yes,” she says, looking back at him. “That’s fine.” 

He grins, pulling her into another tight hug, squeezing her, and she groans. 

“And because I know you want to ask but you aren’t going to, yes, he can sleep over if he wants to.” 

“Oh,” he says, letting her push him away so her face isn’t burning in his chest. “I wasn’t even thinking about that, but thanks.” 

She rolls her eyes and tugs at his arm. 

“Come on.” 

When they approach Jens’s friends, his mom calls Lotte’s name and she looks up at them over the flowers. 

“It’s time to go home.” 

Lotte pouts. 

“But I’m having fun,” she says. 

“You’re not going to have fun tomorrow morning when you’re too sleepy to do anything,” Jens says, and Lucas puts her down, letting her slide out of his arms. Lotte sighs and Jens crouches down to whisper to her. “I’ll bring you something for breakfast, okay?”

She beams brightly and nods. 

“Come on, you can help me put the flowers in a vase when we get home,” their mom says and Lotte adjusts her grip on the bouquets, carefully looking around them as they go up the walkway. “It was nice meeting you, Lucas!” she calls out, turning to wave, and Lucas waves back. 

“I think I should go too,” Rosa says as Lotte and their mom disappear from view. “My parents are probably waiting in the parking lot for me.” She leans up and kisses Lucas’s and Jens’s cheeks before hugging the guys and Lena. “Walk me out?” she asks Damien, and his cheeks flush red as he stammers, “Oh! Yeah, of course!” 

Jens drapes an arm around Lucas’s shoulders as they watch them leave, hearing Lena squeal as Rosa holds Damien’s hand. 

“If they don’t kiss outside, I’m gonna lose my shit,” she says, and the guys laugh. 

“They are dating right?” Robbe asks. 

“Not officially, no,” Lucas sighs. “They both adamantly refuse to acknowledge their feelings for each other.” “Ridiculous,” Moyo says. 

“Okay, it is actually kind of late,” Lena says, looking at her phone screen. “I should go too.” She kisses them all on the cheek before going up the walkway, walking backwards to talk to them. 

“I’m expecting all of your social media, that YouTube channel that Jens has told me nothing about—” Jens groans “Oh, my god” and Lucas giggles next to him— “Invitations to your birthday parties, and—” She points at Sander and Robbe— “an invitation to your wedding.” 

Sander laughs, rolling his eyes, and Robbe scoffs, laying his head on Sander’s chest. 

“Bye, Lena!” Moyo calls.

“Bye-bye, love you all!” She blows kisses and turns on her heel to make it all the way up the walkway, narrowly missing the armrest of a seat with her leg. 

“She’s actually really sweet,” Moyo says. 

“Yeah, once you get past her proclivity to be a nuisance,” Jens says. “She actually helps me calm down before recitals when I’m anxious. And she was the one to kind of adopt Rosa when she started here.”

Aaron’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out as Jens presses a kiss to Lucas’s temple. He’s wearing platforms, Jens notices when he doesn’t have to bend down. 

“Shit, my mom’s texting me, I have to go,” Aaron says, and holds a hand out to Lucas. As they shake, Jens looks past them, seeing that there’s almost no one left in the theatre. 

“We should probably all go, actually, I think they’re closing soon,” he says.

When they get outside it’s dark. The stars are shining dimly, and in the light from the auditorium, Jens can just barely see his breath. Lucas holds his bag as he puts on his coat.

Jens hugs all of them, telling them he’ll see them later. Moyo walks in a different direction than the rest of them, and Aaron has to unchain his bike. 

“I’ll give you your jacket on Monday,” he calls to Moyo before leaving, and Moyo gives him a thumbs up. 

“So,” Lucas says when they’re gone, turning to face Jens and putting his arms on his shoulders. “What happened?” 

“Hm?” 

“With those people. Talking to you and Cecile? And your mom?” 

LUCAS

Jens immediately looks away, his arms wrapping around Lucas’s waist, grinning. 

“Well?” Lucas prompts, shaking him slightly. 

“They, uhm… They said it was good,” Jens says, and then smiles again, biting his lip. 

“Okay…” Jens gazes at him for a second and then drops his arms, stepping back so Lucas’s arms fall, and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small card and holds it out to Lucas. Lucas takes it, holding it up in the light to read it, a name, a number, an email. He flips it over, finding the back blank, and scans the front again. 

“What’s this?” he asks, looking up, but he finds Jens’s eyes shining, his hand covering his mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Lucas almost drops the card, lifting a hand and setting it on Jens’s face, gently brushing over his cheek, but Jens shakes his head and lowering his hand, revealing a small smile. 

“They— They want me to be in the Nutcracker next year,” he says, his voice breaking. Lucas freezes, his hand stopping on Jens’s cheek, and Jens chokes out a little laugh. 

“What?” 

“Yeah,” Jens says, nodding, and he steps closer. “They want me to be in the Nutcracker next year.” Lucas’s hand claps over his mouth, and he looks back and forth between Jens’s eyes, seeing tears gather. 

“Shut up!” he says, dropping his hand, and Jens laughs, shaking his head. “Are you serious?” 

“I am,” Jens says, and his voice breaks. 

“What did you say?” Lucas asks, handing the card back and watching as Jens puts it in his pocket. 

“Nothing, I— I kinda blanked,” Jens says, and Lucas can see that his cheeks are glowing red in the patchy light from the theatre. “They told me to think about it.”

“What are you thinking?” 

Jens takes a deep breath, hunching his shoulders slightly, smiling as he looks at Lucas, his eyes sparkling. 

“I think I wanna do it.” 

Lucas beams from the inside out, reaching out and pulling Jens into a hug. Jens laughs, wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him up. 

“Oh, my god, baby…” Lucas says as Jens sets him down, and he presses his hands to Jens’s face, his index fingers sliding behind his ears and pulling him into a kiss. His cheeks are still warm. “I’m so excited for you.” 

Jens smiles and tugs at his waist, pulling him into another kiss, before Lucas pulls away and pushes Jens’s hair back. It’s not as soft as usual, a little stiff with gel, but it won’t stay where he puts it, and he smiles. 

“So how is this happening? Is it your studio that’s putting it on next year?” he asks. 

“No, they’re getting people from a bunch of different studios,” Jens says. “They said they want it to be all teenagers and kids. Budding artists.”

Lucas pulls him closer, kissing his cheek and then his mouth, softly biting his bottom lip, and Jens sighs, lifting a hand and running his fingers through Lucas’s curls. Lucas can feel his smile against his mouth. 

“Do you wanna celebrate with me?” Jens asks. 

“How?” Lucas asks quietly after kissing him again. 

“I don’t know, do you want to get chips or something? And I told Lotte I’d bring her something, so maybe a stop at a convenience store?” 

“Yeah,” Lucas says, and kisses him once more before letting go and taking his hand. 

“She loves you, by the way,” Jens says as they make their way down a sidewalk. “Lotte.” Lucas smiles, looking up at the sky, the starlight and city light. Jens puts their clasped hands in his coat pocket, gently brushing his thumb over Lucas’s hand. 

“I love her, too,” Lucas says. “She’s so sweet.” 

“She likes to make fun of me,” Jens says, and Lucas laughs. 

“Everyone likes to make fun of you,” Lucas tells him. 

“Is that why you like her? You just need someone else to roast me with?” 

“Baby, you know I don’t have to look far for someone to roast you with.” 

“Okay—” 

Lucas interrupts him by giggling and tugging at his arm, stopping in the sidewalk to kiss him softly, 

He waits outside as Jens goes into a convenience store to get something for Lotte. When he comes out, he’s putting into his ballet bag.  

“Do you know what role they want you to have?” Lucas asks as they start down the road again. 

“Uh… They may have mentioned the prince…” 

Lucas stops, staring at Jens with wide eyes, and Jens walks past him for a few steps before turning, a broad smile having crawled across his face. 

“You’re kidding me,” Lucas says, and Jens shakes his head. Lucas lets out a “Jens!” and crosses the distance between them, jumping on Jens’s back. Jens laughs and he grabs Lucas’s arms. 

“You didn’t think to mention that to me?” 

“I forgot!” 

“Whatever.” 

Lucas slides off his back and steps to his side, grabbing his hand. 

“My boyfriend, the prince,” he says proudly.

---

JENS

“Oh, wait!” Jens exclaims, dropping the plastic fork in his bowl. He stops Lucas walking by grabbing his arm gently, and steps forward, glancing up and down the street. It’s empty, and the asphalt is reflecting streetlamps and stoplights. Jens steps away from Lucas, pulling the strap of his bag over his head and he sets it on the sidewalk. 

“Come here,” he says, bending over and placing his bowl on his bag. Lucas watches him curiously, confused, but copies him, setting his bowl next to Jens and pausing to make sure it doesn’t tip over. 

“What are we doing?” Lucas asks as Jens grabs his hand, pulling him into the street. 

Jens doesn’t respond, instead just pulling him closer as they approach the middle of the street and kissing him. Lucas’s arms come around Jens’s neck with hesitation as Lucas tilts his head, and Jens lifts him again, spinning him in a circle. Lucas squeals, tangling his fingers in Jens’s hair as Jens sets him down, lifting a hand to brush Lucas’s curls out of his face. 

Then he kisses him again. 

Just because he can.

-- the end --