#ok again

She showed him her nails, which she painted recently, and she was nearly jumping in her seat with how excited she was. He’d had to ask her to hold them in place long enough for him to see them clearly and he’d shown her his nails, laughing. They’re the same colour. She squealed, and she did jump in her seat.

He smiled the whole time she’d talked, about the nice nurse with the red hair, though she couldn’t tell if it was dyed or natural, about one of the other patients, who is covered in tattoos and will tell the stories behind all of them to whoever asks, about another who won’t talk or make eye contact, but let her pray with him.

“He smiled so brightly when I asked,” she said. “And we prayed for his kids, and you, and he didn’t talk after, but it was nice to get to know him that tiny bit, you know?”

“That’s really nice, Mom.”

“So what about you?”

“...What about me?”

“Any new friends? Any new boys?” (She asked this with a silly quirk of her eyebrows and a smile.) (And his face flushed.)

“I don’t know. I’ve been hanging out with Milan, and Zoë and Senne.”

“Zoë and Senne…”

“Zoë and Milan have lived together for a while and Senne moved in with Zoë. They’re nice, you’d like them.”

“No new friends?”

“Mom, I’m doing virtual school. I haven’t really met anyone.”

“No one?”

“I mean, there’s…”

She started cooing here, and he looked away, chuckling.

“Tell me!”

“There’s this guy—”

“Oh, gosh.”

She adjusted her seat, pulling her legs up and propping her chin on her hands like a child at storytime.

“He’s…” Lucas had sighed, smiling, speechless.

“Describe him.”

“Beautiful.”

She’d laughed.

“Now are you speaking as an artist, or..?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Okay, keep going.”

“He’s…” He sighed again. “He’s got nice cheekbones.” He touched his own cheeks absentmindedly as he talked. “And a good nose.”

She started laughing, harder.

“Speaking as an artist!” he interrupted, defensively, also laughing.

“No, keep—keep going.”

“His eyes are brown, a really pretty brown. And his eyelashes are dark. He’s got a mole here.” He’d touched next to his own eye and she’d cooed again.

“He’s good to draw?”

“Really good to draw.”

“You’ve found your muse!”

“I think so.”

She’d paused a moment, smiling and clapping giddily.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

He’d flushed, a smile stretching across his blushing face.

“Yes.”

She’d screamed.

“But it’s a secret,” he’d added. “He’s not out to his friend. And I don’t know if he’s out to his mom.”

“Do you know his friends?”

“Some of them, yeah. They’re nice.”

“Okay.” She’d grinned. “Tell me more about him.”

“Uhm… He’s got a little sister. And he’s a really good brother to her, he’s got her drawings on his wall. And he helps her with her homework. He plays guitar for her.”

“He plays guitar?”

“He plays guitar!”

“Lucas, he’s perfect.”

“And he’s a ballet dancer.”

“What?”

And Lucas had just started giggling, nodding as she squealed again, louder.

“I love him already.”

“You’ll like him.”

“I’m gonna meet him?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

Lucas suppresses a smile as he turns into the living room, startling when he sees Milan sitting on the sofa, his legs crossed in front of him, his phone in his hands.

“You’re still here?” he says, placing the canvas on the coffee table. “I thought you had school.”

“I don’t have class today.” Milan lowers his phone and smiles up at him as Lucas nods awkwardly, unsure about if Milan had heard any of what he’d said to his mom. “So you emerger from your den to make art when there’s no one home?” Milan gestures at the canvas and brushes.

“Uh… yes?”

“Just so long as you don’t get paint on my carpet.”

“I haven’t and I won’t.” Lucas sets the brushes down too, cocking his head sassily as Milan raises his eyebrows. “And actually I kind of need paint to paint, I’ll be right back.”

When he comes back, Milan is laying on the sofa, looking at his phone. He doesn’t look up as Lucas places the heavy box full of tubes of paint on the table.

“Was that your mom?” Milan asks as Lucas kneels and sits on the floor, pulling out the bottle of white spirits. Lucas looks up, taking a breath before answering.

“Yeah. We haven’t talked in a while, it was nice.”

Anxiety builds in his chest when Milan drops his phone and looks at him, even though there’s nothing in Milan’s face or eyes to indicate that he’s about to interrogate Lucas about his relationship with Jens. (And Lucas didn't even say Jens’s name. Though, he supposes, maybe Milan could guess, based on the description, even if it wasn’t that specific. But there are so many people in the city; it’s not like Lucas only knows who Milan knows.) (Of course he does only know who Milan knows. But Milan doesn’t know that.) (His thoughts are going too fast for him to catch up.)

“Next time you call can I say hi to her?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Milan grins cheekily and looks back to his phone, and Lucas shakes his head, smiling as he pulls out a tube of paint.

He forgot the palette.

---

Lucas likes seeing Jens, waiting out in front of the studio with his duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. As Lucas gets closer, he smiles, noticing Jens’s pointe shoes, hanging off the bag, the straps of the shoes messily tied to it, and the smile grows when he realises Jens is wearing black tights, the almost sheer material stretching over his legs as he steps toward Lucas.

Lucas is practically checking him out, even as Jens reaches out, beaming, and pulls him in, pressing their mouths together in a messy kiss. As their lips move together lazily in a greeting, Jens grabs Lucas’s hoodie, pulling him into the alley.

When they pull away, Lucas places his hands on Jens’s face, pushing away his hair and running his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“What’s up?” Lucas asks, seeing Jens’s smile. It’s small but bright, looking like he’s trying to suppress it unsuccessfully. Jens shrugs, kissing him again and then pulling away to look at him, brushing his fingertips over his forehead, pushing a curl out of the way.

“What is it?” Lucas presses.

Jens looks so… happy. There’s a shine in his eyes like he has a secret. Lucas can’t help but smile back, dropping his hands to hold Jens’s hood.

“What?”

“I, uhm…” Jens’s smile grows and he leans in, kissing Lucas deeply (Lucas lets him) before pulling back. “I told the guys about the ballet.”

Lucas pulls away further, looking at him as Jens beams, and Lucas blinks in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Jens looks proud, and Lucas lets out a happy laugh, tugging him in to kiss him. Jens slides his arms around Lucas’s waist, pulling him closer. Lucas can feel Jens’s smile against his mouth.

“How did it go?” he asks when they separate.

“Good. I did a pirouette, and Aaron said, and I quote, it was ‘graceful as hell.’”

Another laugh bubbles out of Lucas and he kisses him again, pride filling his heart.

“And Moyo and Robbe?”

“Good. Surprised.”

“Well,” Lucas says, tilting his head back and forth. “Valid.”

Jens chuckles, tilting his own head and looking at him almost fondly.

“Yeah.”

They gaze at each other for a second, Jens's hand slipping to the small of his back as Lucas strokes the exposed skin of Jens’s neck.

“I’m proud of you,” Lucas says quietly, and Jens beams, his whole face lighting up. He kisses Lucas again, gently sucking his lower lip before releasing it.

“What made you decide to tell them?” Lucas asks after a second, and then the shine is back in Jens’s eyes.

“Uhm,” Jens sighs, looking away over Lucas's shoulder before looking back into his eyes. Lucas looks right back at him. Eye contact is weird sometimes. But it’s always easy with Jens.

Everything is easy with Jens.

“Moyo found something. Online.”

Lucas’s heart drops, suddenly nervous, though he doesn’t really know why.

“Found what?”

“A picture. Of me.”

Lucas can feel his smile drop and his hands still on Jens, but he doesn’t say anything. What could he say?

“He found your account,” Jens finishes, knowing.

“My account,” Lucas repeats absently, stepping back slightly. He barely hears himself.

“The art of existence.”

Fuck.

Lucas steps back again without thinking, his fingers still wrapped around the fabric of Jens’s hoodie. He lets out a sort of huff, a breath of anxiety and regret, and stammers, “I’m sorry.”

“No, Lu—”

“I shouldn’t have…” He trails off, shaking his head as his eyes flicker back and forth between Jens’s. Shouldn’t have posted the pictures, shouldn’t have taken the pictures, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have—

“No—Lucas, baby.”

Jens’s hands tighten around his waist and pull him back in. Lucas stumbles as Jens tugs him closer, his hands flattening against Jens’s chest to catch himself. Jens is smiling.

“It’s okay.”

Lucas’s brow furrows in confusion and he takes a short, deep breath. Jens nods as he does, sliding his hands over Lucas’s sides, trying to calm him.

“It’s…”

“It’s fine. It’s okay.”

“...Why?”

“Why is it okay?” Jens laughs lightly as Lucas nods, shrugging. “I don’t know. It just is.”

“But it’s… I shouldn’t have…”

“Baby.”

Jens takes a deep breath and nods slowly as Lucas copies him.

“Why are you so fine with it?” Lucas asks after a second.

Jens sighs, adjusting his grip on Lucas.

“I don’t know. I think something about you calling me your dancer, just…”

Lucas scoffs and shakes his head as Jens grins, and Jens leans down to kiss him, one hand coming up to hold the back of Lucas’s head.

When they separate, Lucas sighs, slipping his hands to hold the sides of Jens’s neck, his eyes still closed. He can feel his heartbeat start to slow down, though he hadn’t noticed the spike.

“You okay?” Jens asks quietly.

Lucas nods and opens his eyes, looking up at him. Jens’s eyes are soft on him, smiling, though the rest of his face is still.

“You don’t think it’s creepy?” Lucas asks, his voice soft, as his thumbs brush back and forth over Jens’s warm skin.

“Mm…” Jens kisses him. “I think if it was anyone else, maybe.”

Lucas scoffs again.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

Lucas pulls him in and Jens leans down slightly so their foreheads press together. Lucas’s eyes close again and he takes a deep breath, hearing Jens do the same. Their bodies sway together, and Lucas wraps his arms around Jens’s neck, pulling his head back only to lean in and bury his face between his arm and Jens’s neck. He doesn’t see Jens smile, but he feels Jens’s arms wrap tightly around his waist.

“I told them not to follow you,” Jens murmurs, and Lucas hums against his neck. “Figured it’s a safe space kind of thing.”

Lucas’s lips curve into a smile and he lifts his head enough to kiss Jens’s skin.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

They stay there for a moment, holding each other and swaying, while the clouds shift above them, as cars speed down the road and people chatter on the sidewalk in front of the studio.

“How did Moyo find it?” Lucas asks suddenly, pulling away to look at Jens’s face. As he looks, Jens’s eyes open slowly, like he’s sleepy.

“No idea. I don’t want to ask in case it starts up another round of interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” Lucas raises his eyebrows.

“Mhmm.” Jens smiles softly and his eyes scan Lucas’s face. “They call you the mystery Instagrammer.”

“You didn’t tell them it’s mine?”

Jens shakes his head, the smile fading, and Lucas brushes his thumbs over his cheekbones fondly.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m not ready to come out.”

“That’s okay,” he reassures him again, nodding and smiling.

“I don’t know what I’m so scared of,” Jens says.

“You don’t need a reason.”

Lucas leans up and kisses him softly.

“You can be my dancer and I can be your secret.”

Jens smiles and kisses him again, sighing as Lucas’s hands slip into his hair. Lucas smiles when he feels Jens’s teeth dig into his lip gently.

They both gasp as they part, their faces close enough that Lucas can feel Jens’s breath on his face, soft as the wind.

“I don’t want you to have to be a secret,” Jens says.