#skambingo

“Yeah, so?”

“Have you ever seen him do that for anyone else?”

Matteo shrugs, trying to fight off the blush that wants to creep up into his cheeks. “We’re friends, man.”

“Yeah, but, like. You’re not even that close.”

“Excuse you,” Matteo blusters. “Just because I’ve only known him since the beginning of the semester--”

Jonas laughs, slapping a hand onto Matteo’s shoulder. “I just meant he has other friends he’s known longer, yeah? And he doesn’t do this shit for them.”

Matteo shrugs him off. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him why that is. But it’s just… he just likes doodling. He doodles on everything.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonas agrees easily, because they’ve all had enough study sessions together for him to know that David does, in fact, doodle on everything that lies still long enough, up to and including Matteo’s arm when he fell asleep on top of his books once. “But this is different. These are gifts, bro.”

“They’re just to-go cups from his work.”

“Where you go at least once a week. Despite the fact that you’re broke as fuck and there are two other coffee shops closer to your place and to your campus.”

“Look—” Matteo tries to say, but Jonas cuts him off again.

“I don’t care, man. David is cool, and I think he likes you. You could do a lot worse.”

Matteo sighs. “Okay, thanks. But just because I have a bit of a crush on him, doesn’t mean he’s flirting with me.”

Jonas rolls his eyes and gives Matteo a slap to the back of his head that actually hurts a little.

“Bro, not for nothing, but you’re not that cute, okay? Like, sure, you’ve got an alright face, but you make, like, no effort--”

“Excuse me, in gay this is effort,” Matteo says, shoving Jonas right back and gesturing at the patterned sweater he’s got on.

“No it isn’t, I’ve seen Hans,” Jonas says. “That is effort in gay.”

“That’s so messed up,” Matteo says, shaking his head at a grinning Jonas, “and I don’t have the energy to fight about this with you when you’re just saying it to rile me up.”

“Whatever, Luigi, I’m just saying – I love you, man, but if David isn’t into you, then why is he doing any of this, huh? The boy clearly likes you. Like, likes you,” Jonas goes on. “Just give him a little wink next time or something. Put out some feelers.”

“A wink?” Matteo asks, laughing. “Jesus fuck, no wonder you’re single.”

“Asshole,” Jonas laughs and shoves Matteo with his elbow. “This isn’t about me, okay? Just. Please, bro. Trust me on this one. I think it could be really good.”

“Sure, okay,” Matteo relents, because he always does when Jonas pulls out those earnest kitten eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

Problem is, he does think about it then.

When David sends him a proud smile emoji in response to his instagram story later, he thinks about it.

When David asks him if he wants to hang out and study the next day, he thinks about it.

When they run into each other at the library, he thinks about it.

When David asks if he’s swinging by the coffeeshop again a week later, he really thinks about it.

And then, maybe, he puts in just a little more effort. Nothing much, because he likes how he dresses, thankyouverymuchJonas, but he makes sure to pair a baggy sweater with a less baggy pair of jeans. He washed his hair this morning and knows it looks fluffy and bouncy and neat because he got it cut only a week ago. Sure, Hans ruffles it when Matteo’s on his way out, but there’s no use pretending Matteo had anything in particular going on with it, so it probably doesn’t really matter anyway.

“Ah,” David says when he spots him walk in, grinning bright as ever. “My favourite customer.”

It’s a joke he makes every time Matteo comes in, but today Matteo thinks feelers and pretends to swoon a little. It makes David laugh, so that’s something.

“My favourite barista,” he says and bats his eyelashes at David obnoxiously when he makes it to the counter.

David snorts and rolls his eyes. His cheeks are always a little flushed here, because it’s quite warm in the shop. It’s cute.

“What can I get you? Latte as always?” David asks, and Matteo takes a moment to wonder how many orders David knows by heart. Sure, his is simple, and they are friends, but. Maybe Jonas isn’t totally full of shit.

He hums and pretends to study the menu, because there’s no one behind him so he’s not holding up a line, and David grins and grabs a large cup, starting to doodle on it while he waits for Matteo to decide.

“I think I’ll have it with caramel today,” Matteo finally decides, looking back down to meet David’s eyes. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

David ducks his head and then sets the cup down after a finishing flourish to his drawing, and then moves over to the espresso machine.

“Alright, coming right up.”

Hm. Still inconclusive, Matteo thinks, but at least that’s better than being rebuffed immediately, right? So he turns the cup to look at the drawing he’s been gifted with today – the finishing flourish must have been the hearts covering Matteo’s eyes as he stares at a cup of coffee – and then lifts it up to frame a shot with the cup in the foreground and David at the espresso machine in the back.

“What are you doing?” David asks, looking up just as Matteo snaps the photo.

“I really like your drawings,” Matteo says instead of offering an explanation, opening the photo in his instagram story. He adds the customary ootd hashtag and then, on a whim, another one saying #favouritebarista and a hearteye emoji.

There.

“They’re just doodles,” David brushes him off, grabbing the cup so he can finish Matteo’s drink.

“No, they’re really good,” Matteo insists. “All my friends are jealous ‘cause I’m the only one who’s getting customised cartoons.”

“Oh, um,” David stutters a little.

“Don’t take that as an invitation to make them for them too,” Matteo says and then – fuck it – does wink at him. “I like it this way.”

David huffs a laugh like he’s surprised, and then slides Matteo’s drink over the counter to him.

“Well, there you go. Something sweet for a-- tired student.”

Matteo blinks at David and then down at the drink. Was that an aborted ‘something sweet for a sweet guy’ line?

“This one’s on me,” David adds, and Matteo’s gaze jumps up to catch David’s eyes.

That-- oh, shit, that is definitely something, right?

“Sweet,” Matteo says, grinning, and David rolls his eyes at him, but he’s grinning too.

A beat passes between them, and then another, neither of them really knowing where to go from here.

“Um, well. See you in class tomorrow?” David says, and Matteo nods at him, pushing back from the counter.

“Yeah. See you in class tomorrow.” He turns towards the door, but doesn’t even make two steps before David’s calling out to him.

“Matteo, wait!”

Matteo whirls around, drink hot in his hand, and his heart pounding in his chest.

“Tomorrow, after class,” David starts, “do you want to…?”

“Yes,” Matteo says when David sort of drifts off, unsure how to round out the offer. He’s pretty sure he’s reading this right anyway. “I would really like that.”

David looks away and bites his lips before looking back at him, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet,” David teases, and Matteo grins at him.

“It’s a date,” he says, just to see David’s eyes go a little wide in surprise.

“Alright. See you tomorrow.” David’s voice has softened a bit, a tone Matteo has never heard from him, and he sort of wants to walk right back over and pull David over the counter to kiss him, but. Probably that’s not a good idea, at David’s work place.

“See you tomorrow,” he agrees, and then finally turns and leaves.

Later, David sends him a heart emoji in response to his story.

“I’m not yelling at anyone. But if his mom comes looking…”

Lucas laughed, eyes already scanning the pastries in the glass display as they waited in the short line. Jens pulled off his gloves, shoving them into his pocket, before lacing his fingers into Lucas’ hand beside him. Feeling his icy skin, Jens recoiled for a moment before grabbing his hands a little more forcefully and cupping them between his own. He could see the white tips of Lucas’ delicate fingers and rubbed his palms along the soft skin on the backs of his hands, trying to warm them up. 

“You’re freezing.” He muttered, eyeing Lucas. Lucas just shrugged. 

“My hands are always cold.”

“So why aren’t you wearing gloves? There’s snow on the ground Luc.”

"I think I lost them. I don't know."

Instead of offering any more explanation, Lucas leaned in to kiss the tip of Jens’ nose, pulling his hands away in order to slip them up and under Jens’ coat and sweatshirt, fingers still frozen against the warm skin of Jens’ lower back. Jens tried to wiggle away but Lucas pulled him in tighter, kissing his cheeks and finally his mouth. Jens finally had to pull away when they reached the front of the line. After ordering their drinks and a pastry from Lucas, they found two comfortable chairs in the back of the cafe, next to the fireplace. Jens watched Lucas clutch his mug with both hands, close to his chest as if he could absorb the warmth through his skin. He texted Robbe and put his phone on the table between them. 

“Do you want to help me with a photography project later?” Jens asked, pulling Lucas’ focus from the fireplace. 

Lucas’ eyes shined under his long eyelashes as he looked at Jens, nodding.

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Just some basic portrait shots.”

“Your professor is gonna get sick of you always using the same model for these assignments.” Lucas said, raising an eyebrow at him. Jens laughed.

“She hasn’t complained yet. At least you’re more interesting to look at that Moyo’s dog.”

That got a snort of laughter from Lucas, who had to steady the mug in his hands as his body rocked with the full bodied laugh.

“At least I’m cuter than a dog.” 

“I said you were more interesting. The dog’s pretty cute.” Jens teased, not even trying to dodge the hand Lucas flung at him in retaliation. Instead, he grabbed the other boy’s fingers before they had moved from his chest and pulled his hand into his lap. 

They sat in the quiet for a few minutes, drinks finally cool enough to drink without burning their tongues. Jens had just finished his mug when his phone sprung to life on the table and Robbe’s picture popped up on the screen. Jens picked up the phone. Lucas moved to chug his drink but Jens waved him off. 

“You haven’t even eaten your croissant. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

He sealed his departure with a kiss on Lucas’ forehead and slipped out the door of the cafe to take the call on the street outside. 

“All good?” Robbe asked, in response to Jens’ text to call him.

“Yeah, just needed an excuse to sneak away from Lucas for a minute.”

“You okay?” Robbe asked, concern laced in his voice now. 

“Oh yeah, no no we’re good. I’ll explain later.”

“Okay…” Robbe said, unconvinced. 

Jens ended the call, and looked in the cafe window. Lucas was back to looking at the fireplace, pensively sipping on his hot chocolate. Jens turned from the cafe and walked one block over. 

The bell jingled over his head as Jens walked back into the cafe, the scent of chocolate and coffee enveloping him as soon as he emerged from the cold street. It had only gotten colder in the short while they’d been here, and he wasn’t prepared to face the walk back to their apartment over by the university yet. Lucas turned, the bell pulling his attention to the door. He smiled at Jens, grin widening when Jens blew him a kiss and pointed towards the counter. Lucas nodded and held up his empty plate. Jens rolled his eyes but nodded. His boyfriend’s sweet tooth was no secret to Jens. He got to the front of the line and ordered more drinks and the berry cheesecake that he knew Lucas had been debating over earlier. 

When he got to their spot, he saw that Lucas had moved to the couch, a little further from the fireplace but certainly more private. Jens sunk into the cushion next to him, resting the two mugs and plate on the table in front of them before wrapping an arm around Lucas’ shoulder, pulling him in to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Robbe okay?” Luc asked, scooting into Jens’ side.

“He’s good.” Jens promised, sliding so he could reach into his pocket. “I’d actually texted him to call me so I'd have a reason to sneak out.”

Lucas moved at his side, looking up at him from under Jens' arm, eyebrows furrowed. Jens just smiled and pulled his hand from his pocket, handing Lucas the gift he’d gotten him. Luc examined the soft navy gloves and then looked at Jens, eyes searching for an explanation.

“I noticed a shop around the corner when we were walking here. I couldn’t let you walk around with no gloves Luc.”

Jens watched a few expressions flit across Lucas’ face before it finally settled into what Jens assumed was fondness. Lucas smiled at him and leaned in, kissing him deeply. He tasted like chocolate and smelled like laundry detergent and his cologne. It was Jens’ favorite scent in the world.

“Thank you.” Lucas whispered into his lips and kissed him again before pulling away to look closely at the gloves. Jens had picked them because they complimented Lucas’ winter coat and the smell flecks of light blue in the yarn on the outside matched Lucas’ eyes. 

“Now I don’t have to worry about your fingers freezing off when I’m not around to hold your hand.” Jens said, smiling softly at his boyfriend. Lucas kissed him once more and then picked up his mug, settling into Jens’ side. Jens grabbed his own mug and settled down. 

He loved pain.

He deserved it. He always deserved it.

Love was never his, love wasn’t there for him.

He didn’t deserved it.

Pain was better.

Breathe.

Why?

Breathe.

Why should he?

Please?

Pain was good.

Just once.

He wasn’t normal.

Come on, breathe for me.

Was he ever normal?

Oh god. Come on!

He was a monster. 

Goddammit, breathe!

He didn’t.

He didn’t do it.

He didn’t want to.

A cry.

Soft blurred halo.

Fierce light surrounding him.

Vaguely familiar blonde color in the corner of his eyes.

Deep pressure on his arm.

Harsh sound of a deep cry.

“Please, Robbe...”

The pain was enough.

But then...

After a century of darkness.

He took his first breath.

 -^-

 He didn’t remember how he got there. 

Slowly walking into his home and tracing the soft texture of the eggshell walls, he sighed deeply. He was welcomed back into the silence. As if he never left. As if they were never witness to anything else. Beautiful things had happened. Horrendous things had happened. But the walls would never speak of it. They kept their peace. 

Robbe liked that. 

The color was his pick, of course. As if Sander would have chosen boring beige, cold dark blue or a simple black. Come on. Get real. Back when they were together, he would have rolled his eyes at the suggestions the brown-haired boy would make. Arms crossed with faces close to each other, harsh veins popping out because of all the exertion of the shouting matches.

“Life is passion, Robbe. Don’t be the boring gay!” “Sander, we’re supposed to live in this, I don’t want to be nauseous of all the weird combinations!” “And what the hell is wrong with red and yellow?” “What’s right about red and yellow?” “God, are you serious?!”

Hours and hours of discussing splashes of paint, cataloguing each other’s taste, skipping the expensive brands and go into thrift stores to score beautiful furniture, to do it all over again. Yelling, kissing, making up. Falling out of bed, because of the fits of laughter. Mischievous eyes filled with what now?’s. Slight kisses to temples.

“Beige and brown!” “Orange and purple!” 

“Dark blue and light green!” “Salmon pink and aquamarine!” 

Soft Sander. Beautiful lover. His artist.

Always complying at a flutter of eyelashes, bending his knees at a sigh and holding him at one tear. Always there. Ready to take, to caress and to mend. Late night in bed with their little baby boy in their midst, whispering sweet words to let him catch on. Telling him stories about his day. About the weird accountant who wanted a beautiful portrait of his awful boss. Probably to throw darts at it, he figured. Why else? 

A cute giggle.

Oh, did he tell you about the elderly couple? Together for more than fifty years, alive and kicking. They wanted their love honored by making a beautiful portrait. “Yes, no problem”, he had said. After discussing the price, set-up and deadline, Sander had instructed them to sit down to pose. And that’s when they took off their clothes. “Ah, didn't we tell you? It’s a nude portrait!”

David had always been charmed by his papa’s life. Bowie was his hero, blonde hair and leather jackets was his forté. And the tiny boy was just following along. Worshipping every tiny piece. It ran in his blood, didn’t it? Being extraordinary? The artistry? His mother wasn’t conventional either. Noor was special, artsy and beautiful. So each day would pass and their son would be more and more like Sander. A light in the darkness.

And Robbe wasn’t.

He was cold, boring and hollow.

Like now, he was standing in his own home, not knowing what to do or say. He didn’t know how to get going, how to move along and change the course. It had all happened, but did it actually? Was he there? He could feel the ground beneath his feet, the musky air in his lungs, the color of the walls. But was he there? Had he ever been here? Was he truly him?

His hand immediately went to his arm, nails scratching the hardness of skin. And Robbe started to walk around. He needed to feel the space, to know where he was. Anxious pacing the wool carpet he had chosen to compliment the couch in their tiny living room. A space that had been filled with beautiful memories, that of Jens doing a handstand to impress his nephew and almost crashing into their new coffee table. 

His feet were slowly shuffling towards their dining room and kitchen. A small smile appeared at Robbe’s face, because he remembered how Moyo would make their regular tapas evenings happen here. Before they all had settled down with their partners and became too busy to organize them again. “I’m the best chef cook of the Western Hemisphere, Robbe! You’ll see!”, he said the first time. 

Right before the fire alarm went off. 

The next memory flashed before his eyes. Amber and Aaron coincidentally sitting in close proximity of each other. The one looking at the other, right when the other turned their gaze downwards. Jana subtly nudging her husband and whispering her observations. “They still love each other,” Robbe had heard from her. “Why won’t they go back together?” With a slight shrug from Jens as a response. “What can we do about it?”

He felt hurt.

Well, that was something.

A feeling.

A little red stain on his finger? Robbe huffed, looking down at the color. Red is a beautiful shade, isn’t it? So passionate, deep and yet, something that connected all of them. A thrilling feeling. Finally something that connected him to all his friends, his family, his own son. His ex-lover. He never truly felt tied to them all, especially in the later years.

A beep on his cell.

He was grey, as grey as the sharp steel in the kitchen. He wasn’t special. He never understood why Sander thought he was. Why his son would pick that exact song, the one which ripped his heart out and made him feel 16 years old again? Right then and there, at a beach town supermarket, a cute guy whirling him around on a supermarket cart. A feeling that went up and up, never coming down. 

A text.

Pain was inevitable, he had learned. With Noor. With Sander. With David. Because children were a blessing, they'd always be the good in the world. That’s why he needed to protect the boy, from all the evil. Why he would let himself be pushed off the stairs, so not one beautiful curl on his head would be harmed. Psychically or emotionally. 

- “I’m coming to talk to you” -

No other dark eyes filled with sorrow.

Only his.

 -^-

 “Come on, baby! Dance for me, you know you want to!”

“Wouter, please, stop it... You’re going to wake up my son.”

As if he cared...  Wouter just kept pulling at Robbe’s sweater, trying to discard it, so he could dug his nails at his bare arms. His response was to shut himself off. He wasn’t going to stop anyways, so why bother? Robbe liked it too, didn’t he? He was sure he did. When the other man nipped at his ear, slowly biting a trail down his neck and loosening his belt. He really loved it. Right?

“Rob- just do it for me. I’m too tired to move along!”, the man growled.

His breath filled with distain and mixed with the stench of cheap liquor. Eyes watered down to dimmed grey and clouds covering the sun. His hands were calloused, rough, manhandling him towards the end of the bed. The man named Robbe discarding his lover’s pants and hoping to shush loud moans by softly kissing his lips. His palm sweetly caressing, was met with a sharp pain in his wrist. Hmmm...

“I want it now. Don’t give me that bullshit about lubing it up and kissing gently. Just put a condom on already! I’m ready. You are too!”

Fear struck. Made him come out of the daze. Back into his mind. Robbe moved along to the other’s body, gripped the hip and pulled it from his orbit. Followed by a furious growl, whilst fingers formed a fist. He didn’t want it to happen. It would happen anyway. But still, he couldn’t say yes to this. This wasn’t what he wanted. Stop. Don’t do this.

“Wouter, stop it please...”, he whispered. “I don’t want this”

“What do you mean? You always say yes to this! It’s me your talking to, not some loser from the street, dumb-dumb.” Sickeningly sweet tone. A flower clearing through the greyish woods. An inkling of hushed love. Two bodies breathing together, bothered in various ways. But his head still screamed ‘no’. Greasy lips on his chest, licking towards his right nipple.

“I don’t want to, Wouter. Not tonight.”

Silence. 

Pull away.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, of course, Robbe. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to. What kind of guy do you think I am? I’m not like that filthy know-it-all you call your ex. I mean, it’s not because you have a son with him, like you jump when he asks you to. You’re not his plaything... You’re mine. Right?”

Wouter’s face contorted in a cheap grin. He knew he shouldn’t fall for that, Robbe knew better. But did he? Maybe... Maybe his boyfriend was right? Sander did boss him around, when it came to their son. Always expecting to jump? But that wasn’t Sander was it? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think.

His thoughts were interrupted by his lover huffing out a short laugh. Seemed to be sobering up, a little. Maybe. “You shouldn’t worry your pretty head too much, darling. You’ll get wrinkles. But if we’re not going to do anything, I’ll need something to get the edge off. It’s been a long, hard damned week. I at least deserve a break. You want some?”

Oh, Robbe knew what ‘some’ meant. The brown haired boy didn’t like this feeling. Of not being in charge what was going to happen at this point of the evening. He shook his head, while his chest slowly closed up. The last memory he had of that stuff, was Wouter breaking his dresser. All because Robbe made a comment about his unemployment. A throw-away remark, that’s all it was.  He was going to shut his mouth now. 

It only took him a half hour. 

“You know, sweetie. I always wondered what so special about that boy of yours. He’s the apple of your eye, right? A spitting image of you both. And yet, he isn’t. The son of an unknown father and a dead mother. Beautiful that you took him in. That’s true. But what’s so special about those blonde curls?”

Ice.

His blood turned to ice. Is this how murderous anger felt? It felt really close. His body was too slow at first to follow his coked-up partner to the stairs. But caught him, before Wouter could step foot towards the child’s door. Hissing. He felt like a wild animal, a lion trying to protect its cub, when he spit out:

“Don’t. Even. FUCKING. Dare. Touching. Him. Or. I’ll. Kill. You. With. My. Bare. Hands.”

Dark storm clouds looked into his. Venom in the mouth.

“Does he know, Robbe... Does he know he’s not yours? That he’s a boy that’s neither made from love between two men nor out of a conscious decision by his true mother? Never knowing his real father, having two fakes instead. You told me that, you know. You might not remember, but I do. I know what you said about little David, sweet darling son...”

Robbe froze on the spot. His fight-or-flight-reaction going into full overdrive. The hair on his arms were standing up, senses completely aware of his surroundings. All while still having no shirt on, he now remembered. What a ridiculous thought. Him, a man, of barely 1.68m and bare chested, trying to fight someone without pants and at least one head bigger than him.

And yet... So tempting...

“I remember what you said, Robbe. You were blubbering all over me, crying about that beach blonde bitch again. Typical. But then you said it to me. Your real fear... That he isn’t yours. That he looks so much like Sander, beautiful unattainable Sander. Boohoo. And never like the boring you. That you blame your ex for that! That’s what you said, right? ‘I’ll never be good enough for sweet David, Sander seems to be’. That’s adorable. Truly. Adorable.”

Poison.

In his veins.

Deafening silence. 

“Maybe I should tell him, darling? All. Of. It. What do you t-”

Hard grunting. Hands everywhere. Red scratches.

Black irises taking over the grey. 

Pushing and pulling. 

Shouting. Screaming. Crying. 

Tilting worlds. Tumbling. Tripping. 

Falling. Falling. Falling. 

Pain.

Black.

And a few days later: 

“Don’t tell papa I broke my arm okay? It’s nothing to worry about, okay sweetie?” 

Followed by a soft:

“Okay, paps. I won't.”

 -^-

 “It’s better this way...”

“I know.”

“You know this is the only way.”

“I knów.”

Beautiful deep eyes. A pained expression. The back of a hand tracing his cheek. Wiping away the tears trickling down. A watery smile. This feeling of being left alone with all the responsibility on his shoulders, was somehow even worse than breaking up. But he shouldered through it anyway. He needed to. He needed to be strong for someone else.

“Robbe...”

“Sander, don’t...”, the other, tiny boy whispered. “Just promise you’ll take care of him. You’re the only one I trust with him.” His little hands still covering the man’s rosed cheeks. Fresh bandages wrapped around the fragile arms. Memories of closing, days of grey clouds and unspoken communication. Sander nodded his head. But he needed to say it, to get the feelings off his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Robbe. I didn’t know. I was supposed to be there for you. In sickness and in health, right?” A pained smile of both. “I meant it, schat. I didn’t... I should’ve... We wouldn’t have...” Sander looked down. He couldn’t find the words to describe what he felt. 

“It’s okay”, his love answered. A fluttery kiss to his right cheek. “I’m still here. I’m not going away. Not for long at least. And then we can start again. We can start over... Maybe. Only... If you want to. I mean... If you still-”

“I still love you. I’ll always will. I’m never going to stop.” 

“Me neither...”

A ruffle through brown hair.

A featherlight hug.

A light giggle from him.

A cute wink he managed himself. 

“Chill...”

“Chill..."

Then he watched the brown jacket step towards the entrance, right into the arms of the welcoming nurses. All warmly tapping his shoulder, introducing themselves and trying to make him feel at home. Nodding at what he's saying. Already knowing why he's there, but listening anyways. They were going to be good for him. Just like they were good for Sander, a whole lifetime ago.

But before his life partner stepped through the door, he made a stop and turned around quickly.

With mischief on his face.

“So, what are we going to do in the next minute?!”

And a loud response for the artist, surprising even himself:

“In the next minute, I’ll wait for you!”

The hands roll Lucas onto his back, towards the warm chest behind him, as the lips find their way back to his cheek and then eventually his own, greeting him with a soft peck. Lucas chases it, lips finally twitching in a smile, and hears a low, throaty laugh that has his eyes flicking open. 

Jens rewards him with a grin and another kiss, deep and lingering, trailing more feathery pecks along his cheek before stopping to nip at his ear. “Good morning.” 

Lucas hums tiredly in response, arching into the other boy as Jens’s hands slip down his sides. Jens smiles against his skin, rolling to hover over him as Lucas trails his fingers up his back to thread them into his hair. Jens kisses him again, his weight pressing him into the mattress, and Lucas allows himself to melt, going boneless underneath him. Even when Jens pulls away, it’s only to immediately reattach his lips to Lucas’s skin, peppering sweet kisses all over his face. It leaves Lucas humming again, pleased. 

“Nice wake up call,” he murmurs simply. 

Jens pushes himself up just enough to get Lucas opening his eyes, patient as Jens wiggles his brows at him. “I hope you know to expect better than that.”

Lucas grins, letting his eyes fall shut again as Jens softly kisses his cheek. The kisses turn firmer, blazing, as Jens makes his way down Lucas’s chest and hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. 

It’s only when Lucas is breathless and sated, feeling half-asleep again and flexing his fingers free of their tight grip in the other’s hair, that Jens nuzzles his way back up and plants a smacking kiss on his cheek with a cheery, “Happy birthday.”

~^~

Lucas never really liked his birthday. 

At least, never more than any other day. He only remembers vague patches of it from when he was younger, when his parents were still happily married and remembered to buy him cake and gifts and everything else. That lasted until he was around ten, when his mother’s episodes started becoming impossible to ignore, and Lucas found himself more often than not making her dinner on his birthday. He didn’t blame her at all, of course, but he did blame his father for a number of things. If he hadn’t been so ignorant and avoidant of his wife and his only son, she would have gotten her diagnosis and been treated much earlier, and maybe Lucas would have had birthday parties he could actually remember. 

He doesn’t hate his birthday, or anything, but it’s not a day that stands out, either. 

But it is different now. Now that he’s older, and living in Antwerp, in a flat with his boyfriend of two years with a much larger friend group. Now is different. 

Or at least, the morning is, until Jens climbs over his lap at the kitchen table and gives him an apologetic pout. “I shouldn’t have to work on your birthday. It sucks.” 

Lucas is already wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to tuck his face into his shoulder as he smiles. “Yeah, it sucks.”

“I am genuinely upset and you are turning every word into an innuendo.”

“Well, who’s fault is it that my mind has been on that path all morning?”

Jens sighs, mock aggrieved as he pets a hand through Lucas’s hair. “The answer to that better be me.”

Lucas laughs, lifting his head to pull Jens down and into a kiss. “Always you,” he mumbles. 

At least birthday kisses are a regular thing now, he thinks. He can very much get used to birthday kisses. 

Jens gives him a hundred in apology before he leaves, tracing his lips over every still-exposed piece of skin, comforting and loving and teasing all at once. In the end it’s Lucas forcing him out the door with a multitude of reassurances, unable to stave off one last kiss as Jens promises to make up for it, assuring him he’ll be back in the evening. Lucas, again, tells him it’s fine, because it is. 

He doesn’t hate his birthday. But he doesn’t really like the loneliness that usually seeps in along with it. 

It doesn’t matter, though, this year. It’s different. He has people around him who make it different. He has Jens. He can manage the loneliness for a few hours in the face of that, with the promise of what’s to come. 

~^~

Only, he isn’t even alone for an hour when there’s a knock on the door, and he has to distractedly look up from his sketch and wait to hear it again before it registers. Then he’s bounding off the seat and into the hallway, speed-walking to the door and pulling it up without even checking the peephole. 

He’s instantly engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, seconds before he’s greeted with, “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Kes,” he returns, surprised, ecstatic, wrapping his arms tightly around him in return. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Kes says, happy. “Happy birthday.” 

“Happy birthday,” another voice interrupts, even more excited than Kes had been, and Lucas laughs as Jayden pushes in through the doorway to wrap his arms around them both. 

Kes makes a short sound of protest, but wiggles his arm out to wrap around Jayden when Lucas does the same. He is surprised, but he supposes he shouldn’t be, supposes he should expect a gift like this at the very least. He only wonders how long they’ve been planning it, if he was meant to be left in the dark, if it was spontaneous or a given. Last year had been different, when Lucas was still living in Utrecht and it had been his eighteenth, when Jens and the Broerrrs had been the ones that had to get on a train and come join him. They’d thrown him a party, then, not at all secretly enough, and he’d enjoyed it. 

Now, living in Antwerp, and turning no particularly special age, he hadn’t expected it to be like that. He’d expected maybe a bar trip with the boys, at the very most, and would have been content with a quiet night in with Jens. But he can’t deny that he’s pleased at having Kes and Jayden turn up his doorstep, almost relieved to see his best friends. 

“How did you even get here?” Lucas asks, just as they finally break their little huddle and he catches sight of Sander in the hallway. The older boy grins in confirmation, giving a quick nod, and Lucas smiles widely in response. 

“Mr Grownup here was kind enough to meet us at the station,” Kes answers, reaching behind him to pull Sander in the neck, who shoves him away with a huff. “Well, well, kind might not be the right word.”

Sander gives a long-suffering sigh and turns a serious gaze on Lucas. “Bickering, the whole time. Really, the things I do for you Luc.”

Lucas doesn’t bother pointing out the short ten minute driving distance from the station, because he understands that ten minutes is more than enough. Instead he grins wider and reaches out to give Sander’s shoulder a grateful squeeze, tugging him further inside as he finally shuts the door. Kes and Jayden are already making their way to the sitting room, bags now slung over their shoulders. Sander lingers and waits for Lucas, then falls into step easily alongside him as they follow. 

He stops, however, in the doorway to the sitting room, watching Jayden drop his bag and flop onto the sofa in amusement. Lucas turns to him with a frown, realisation sinking in. “You’re not staying.”

Sander shakes his head, and raises his hand to jingle his keys. “Have another pick up to do. I’d say you get half an hour with these guys and then the rest want to see you. So, I’m not staying, but you won’t have to miss me too long.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and punches his shoulder lightly, and Sander laughs, skipping out of the way. “Just go get your boyfriend before you make a fool of yourself.”

Sander waves him off with a smile, turning back towards the room to call a very pointed, “You’re welcome.” 

The two dumbasses turn to him, Jayden from where he’s sprawled face down on the sofa and Kes from his perch on top of the other’s thighs. “Thanks, Sander,” they call back, genuine but still filtering off into laughter as Kes tips sideways and accidentally digs his elbow into Jayden’s back. 

Sander simply shakes his head, amused, and ruffles Lucas’s hair before heading back down the hallway, calling a goodbye over his shoulder. 

Lucas is left to turn back to his friends, just as Jayden is bucking his hips in an attempt to throw Kes off. Kes concedes, sliding to the opposite end of the sofa and letting Jayden pull his legs out from under him, shifting until he’s sat cross-legged and smiling at Lucas. He smiles back as they watch him, until eventually Kes raises his brows and pats the space beside him. 

Once Lucas has sat down, Kes is turning to Jayden with raised brows. “Do you have it?” 

Jayden blinks at him, lips parting. “I thought you were packing it.”

Lucas bites back a laugh as Kes’s expression instantly drops, eyes narrowing as a scowl forms on his lips. “I told you to bring it!”

“If you were literally talking about it why did you not bring it?” 

“Because I was in the shower!”

“Well maybe I was distracted, then.”

Kes tosses his hands up and Lucas does laugh now, as Jayden finally cracks and lets his lips pull up in a smile, a small giggle bubbling out of him as well. He punches Kes’s shoulder, much harder than Lucas had with Sander, and Kes winces away as his scowl deepens. 

“Such little faith in me,” Jayden complains, hoisting his bag onto his lap and digging through it. “Always so quick to believe I’ll let you down.”

Kes grimaces, shoulders slumping in instant apology as Jayden produces a tiny wrapped gift from his bag. “You were fucking with me,” Kes sighs. 

Jayden passes the package to Lucas before wiggling his brows and smacking a kiss to Kes’s cheek. “I’m always fucking with you.”

Kes rolls his eyes, but smiles, and Lucas mock gags, and only smiles when Kes smacks the back of his head. It’s weird, the whole thing. The Kes and Jayden thing. He supposes it’s made it worse, him not being there. He hadn’t really had a chance to watch it develop, hadn’t been able to catch on until he’d already missed months worth of change. He also hadn’t been there to get used to it, only witnessing this new dynamic in their visits back and forth. 

And yeah, it’s weird. 

But it’s not so weird that it isn’t manageable. In fact, sometimes Lucas almost forgets. They’re both tactile, naturally affectionate, but private in that way they all sometimes get in public. Lucas...well, honestly, Lucas isn’t really sure what their relationship is like. He just knows his friends are happy, and they’re still his best friends, and he can’t really make too much fun of them without getting it heaped on him in return. 

Kes hooks an arm around his neck now and jostles him, gesturing at the tiny gift still in his hands and saying, “Open it.”

Lucas doesn’t have to be told twice, curiosity consuming him as he tears at the sparkly wrapping paper. It’s more difficult than expected, the entire small square covered in tape, but eventually he manages to pull a side free. He grins as a small bag of weed slips out, catching it in his palm and tipping his head back. 

“I fucking love you guys,” he admits, and Kes and Jayden both laugh and comply as he holds his hand out for a fist bump. 

Jayden winks. “To give you and Jensy-boy a little birthday boost.” He wiggles his brows once more, whining in pain as Kes elbows him in the gut. 

Lucas simply wiggles his brows back. This time Kes supplies the mock gag. Jayden gives him a high-five. 

“How did you manage to plan this, anyway?” Lucas asks later, wedged between his two friends now as they share a joint. Jayden fiddles with the curls at the back of Lucas’s head with his feet drawn up on the cushion as Kes leans back with his leg strewn over Lucas’s. 

“What do you mean?” Kes tilts his head. 

“I mean, getting here, Sander picking you up, the gift…”

Kes and Jayden share a glance before shrugging and simply stating, “Jens.”

“We just messaged him and he helped us out. And Isa will watch Oscar literally whenever we ask. Think she likes his company,” Jayden says. 

“Think he likes her more than me,” Kes mumbles. 

Jayden makes a noise of protest, patting Kes’s leg comfortingly. “That’s not true. Isa just gives the best belly scratches. With you he just gets jealous.”

“Don’t think he’s the only one,” Lucas smiles, and Kes flicks the side of his head. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Where else would we be?” Kes jostles his head. “We’d never miss a chance to celebrate our baby bro.”

Lucas’s smile widens. His parents stopped being good at even remembering his birthday a long time ago—but Kes was still always there. Kes has always been family, and with him came Isa and Jayden and even their broader group, Liv and Noah and Ralph and the girls. They’d all taken Lucas in at some stage, all welcomed him like family. 

They’re more than enough. 

~^~

“Okay, bro, I know it looks like we didn’t get you anything, but I swear we’re better than that,” Moyo promises, ten minutes into their group meeting at the skatepark. 

“Which is why we’re going to the cafe after and buying you a whole cake. Whatever one you want,” Aaron says, just as earnestly, and Lucas barely holds back a snort. 

“You guys don’t have to get me anything, really.”

“Yes, they do, or they don’t get shit from Jens on their birthdays,” Robbe teases, leaving both boys to turn and scowl at him, unable to do much more through the protective barrier of Sander’s arms. 

“And what did you get him?” Moyo scoffs 

Robbe rolls his eyes, patting Sander’s hands where they clasped on top of his chest. “Sander and I got him an awesome birthday gift. Which we’ll be able to give him if you two get off your asses and go join Kes and Jayden.”

“Lucas doesn’t think anything is better than cake,” Aaron argues, looking to Lucas for confirmation, who simply draws his shoulders up to his ears in a cheeky shrug. 

“Well there is that thing Jens does—“

“No, nope, no way,” Moyo smacks a hand over his mouth, shaking his head as Sander and Robbe laugh and Aaron looks on in confusion. “I love you, man, but for the sake of my sanity and ability to look either of you in the eye ever again, please don’t finish that sentence.”

Lucas doesn’t, but he does lick Moyo’s hand. 

Moyo curses and snaps his hand away, smacking the back of Lucas’s head for good measure before jogging off down the half pipe. Aaron follows him, thankfully without any more questions, and Lucas is left with the most sickening couple in Antwerp—who also happen to be his two best friends here. 

Robbe detached himself from Sander and moves to sit next to Lucas, giving his boyfriend a nod as Sander gets to his feet and moves back to the tree where they’d dumped their bags. “This is kinda more from Sander than me,” Robbe admits. “Idea and payment wise. So you should direct any thanks you have there.”

“I’m already thankful, Robbe,” Lucas says quietly. “It’s not,” he cuts himself off, tries starting again. He gestures at their friends across the park, laughing and falling more than they are skating and watches Robbe follow his gaze. “This, more than anything, I’m thankful for. I mean it when I say you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“And we mean it when we tell you we wanted to,” Robbe shrugs, offering him a gentle smile. He looks down at his feet, choosing his next words with care. “I kind of hated my birthday, for a while. It was the one day my parents would try to pretend everything wasn’t falling apart, and that I actually factored into any of what was happening. It usually still ended up with them screaming at each other. It made it...seem more like an inconvenience than something to celebrate.”

He turns his head to look up at Lucas again, squinting under the glare of the sun. “I know we’re not exactly the same, but,” he offers a small shrug, “I don’t think we’re that different?” 

Lucas swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, bumping his shoulder against Robbe’s. Robbe nods back and adds, “So I get what you mean. I love celebrating with Mama, when she’s capable, but...it’s dumb things like Sander making me breakfast that make it better. It just depends so much on the people around you and you have so many good people, Lucas. It’s like, your friends are your family. You know?”

Lucas can only nod again, blinking quickly as he looks down at his own lap and Robbe passes an arm around his shoulder, pulling him to his side for a brief moment. Lucas huffs a quiet, grateful laugh at the gesture, smiling back when Robbe looks at him and gives his shoulder another squeeze. 

“Jens was always a big part of making my birthday better, too,” Robbe adds, smile turning teasing. “So I’m sure with you…” he trails off suggestively. 

Lucas shoves his shoulder, heart softening at the giggles he receives in return, and then Sander’s back. He drops down on Lucas’s other side, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes for a brief, questioning second. Lucas understands the quiet communication, realises why it had taken him so long to go the few feet and return. 

Sander seemingly got whatever he was looking for, however, presenting Lucas with a package that is notably larger than the one he’d received earlier in the day. Lucas shoots a questioning glance between them before eagerly pulling the wrapping off at their nods, expression brightening as he catches sight of the contents. 

“No way,” Lucas says, awed, now holding the object with a much firmer grip. “A fucking Polaroid?”

He doesn’t know which boy to look at, glancing between both his friends rapidly as he takes it in. There’s a pleased, almost smug tilt to Robbe’s lips now, but he shakes his head at Lucas’s questioning gaze and nods proudly at Sander. “Like I said, all his idea.”

Lucas whips his grin to Sander, who doesn’t look as grateful for the credit as he should. His tongue is poking at his cheek, a habit Lucas has noticed, something he does when he’s unsure of himself. “I remember when you were looking at them in the shop and telling me how cool it would be, because you never learned to develop but these were easy, but I knew you’d never buy it for yourself, so. It’s not the best brand, but—“

Lucas cuts him off by throwing his arms around his neck in a hug, after passing the boxed camera over to Robbe’s careful hands. “It’s perfect, Sander,” he assures, pulling back with a tug to his dark hair. “Thank you.”

Sander’s shoulders lose their tension instantly, dropping in relief as he sports a content smile. 

Lucas takes the box back from Robbe and examines it more closely. “Do you think it’s safe enough to open here, or do I have to wait?”

“If we move back and sit with out stuff until you get it going, it should be safe enough,” Sander reassures. “There’s film and everything with it, ready to go.”

Lucas is hopping up before he’s even finished, muttering a happy, “Okay.” He grins eagerly at them until they stand and join him, Sander seeming to share his excitement as Robbe gives another gentle laugh. 

“I’ll leave you to the technical stuff and go make sure the others don’t die before you can get pictures of it,” Robbe says. 

“It’d be much appreciated,” Lucas agrees, managing the solemn tone for only a moment with his face too eager to express his joy. He and Sander get settled down under the shade of the tree, and Sander helps him gently peel back the bits of tape until he can get the camera out. 

“I can’t believe you got me this,” Lucas mumbles. “Even if it’s not the ‘best brand’. I didn’t expect anything this expensive.”

“It’s not about the expense,” Sander shrugs. “It doesn’t put me out much, especially with Robbe chipping in. I know you’d try to get me something I wanted, even if it was going to leave you struggling, so this is nothing.”

“It’s far from nothing, Sander. I didn’t even realise how much I wanted one of these. But you did,” he points out. “That’s...a lot.”

Sander shrugs again. Lucas isn’t sure he’s ever seen him look so bashful. “I know that you’ll have everyone giving you things today and your best friends are here and they probably know you better than I do, but...I thought it was important to give you something to help you remember all of it. It’s a lot of the reason I draw and take pictures when I get—well. When I go into overdrive. It’s harder to remember things, sometimes. I know that’s not a problem for you in the same way, obviously, but you do love to capture things and I thought this kind of fit even Jens’s vibe best and it just seemed like the right idea.”

There’s an immense pressure in Lucas’s chest that he can’t get rid of, an overflow of emotion that had been there since Robbe had started to speaking to him and now threatens to boil over. He can’t help but think how right Robbe is. He doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky, to have so many good people in his life. To be able to consider so many of his friends close enough to be family. 

Sander seems to grow more nervous the longer he stays silent, so he reaches out and places a careful hand on his arm. “It’s a brilliant idea. You know me just as well as anyone, if not better, obviously.”

It does the trick, Sander’s expression instantly softening back into a smile, still somewhat oddly shy. “Well, you probably are my best friend,” Ssnder says simply. Stating a fact. 

Lucas swallows down another lump in his throat and moves to hug him again. 

~^~

He really shouldn’t be surprised when he returns to the flat and finds it suspiciously dark, especially with Kes and Jayden giggling behind him. The others had all ditched them a while ago, Robbe and Sander disappearing first and Moyo and Aaron following not long after, making sure Lucas got every last bit of his cake. 

He really shouldn’t be surprised when he flicks the light on and is gifted with people jumping out from nowhere, yelling an almost simultaneous, “Surpirse!”

Kes and Jayden are also cheering behind him, pushing him forward as he laughs and his eyes make their way naturally to Jens, standing at the front of the room with a massive grin on his face. Lucas feels that usual tug towards him, feels himself being drawn easily into his orbit. Only, a force collides with his chest and holds him back, arms wrapping tightly around his chest as curls tickle his chin. 

“Happy birthday Luc,” Isa croons, squeezing him happily, and Lucas feels the bubble of elation in his chest grow as he hugs her back. 

“Thank you. What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Isa steps back to roll her eyes up at him, shaking him by the shoulders. “Well obviously, Luc, that would’ve ruined the surprise!”

Lucas grins at her, suddenly feeling bashful himself. His friends squeeze past him and he distantly hears Jayden squeal, “Jens!” He huffs a laugh as he watches the collision over Isa’s shoulder, catching sight of the girls and Milan and the boys, all back again. None of them are paying too much attention, letting him have his moment with Isa. 

He looks back down at her and his eyes widen as a sudden thought kicks in. “Isa, Oscar! You’re supposed to be taking care of him.”

“Obviously that was a lie, Luc. Liv and Noah have him. I needed some reason for not showing up with Kes and Jayden so I could sneak in here and set this up.”

Lucas blinks. “You set this up?”

Isa hums, smiling. “The decorations, yeah. Along with the girls and Milan, of course. Engel and Janna would’ve come, too, but Janna’s gone all week and Engel’s mom wasn’t too sure of the idea.”

“And Liv and Noah are dog-sitting,” Lucas grins. He doesn’t have to say he doesn’t mind, knowing Isa already knows. That he’s very happy his three best friends made the time for him, even with this new distance. It reminds him that no one’s really gone anywhere, that they’re still in his corner and any thoughts of losing them were ridiculous. He couldn’t get rid of them if he tried. 

Isa nods, smile turning cheeky, a trait the two of them have always shared. “But you have a lot of people here for you. Your very adorable boyfriend made sure of that.”

Lucas flushes, shoving her shoulder lightly as his eyes automatically trail around the room, finally catching on Jens. He’s still caught up in a conversation with Kes and Jayden, nodding along as Kes waves his hands around animatedly. He must notice Lucas’s gaze, however, casting around for him before finally meeting his eyes. His lips turn up in an easy smile, and he gives Lucas a small wave, and Lucas’s heart stutters stupidly in his chest. As if it isn’t used to Jens by now. As if Jens has never done far more to get his heart racing. 

He’s dragged out of his awe when Isa pinches his cheek, cooing at him again as he bats her away. She laughs, catching his hand to squeeze it fondly. “Go, put him out of his misery. He’s been rushing around for the past hour since he got back, as if we didn’t have everything ready for him,” she rolls her eyes, but her tone and smile are both still fond, and she pulls Lucas into another hug before letting him go. “I’m happy for you, Luc. We’ll catch up properly later, okay?” 

He nods at her and she pats his cheek, running off ahead of him to draw Kes and Jayden away, leaving Jens standing alone with an amused grin lighting up his face. He turns to Lucas slowly, expression softening as he takes him in, and Lucas finally moves towards him. 

Jens immediately envelopes him in his arms and presses a kiss to the top of his head, and this is exactly what Lucas has been waiting for all day. Just this. 

“What made you think I’d want a surprise party?” Lucas asks, voice muffled where his face is tucked into Jens’s shoulder. 

Jens hums, swaying Lucas slightly side to side. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that you like surprises, and parties, and me…”

“Oh and you’re the main event at this thing then, is that it?”

“Luc, I am always the main event,” Jens says, lifting his hands to Lucas’s shoulders and gently pushing him back enough to kiss him. His lips are still brushing Lucas’s as he speaks, voice low and teasing. “But only for you.”

Lucas hums, pulling Jens down by his grip on his neck, drawing him into another slow kiss as Jens’s hands smooth over his back. “Thank you,” Lucas murmurs. 

Jens smiles, sneaks a kiss to his cheek. “Always.”

Before Lucas can fall into him completely, there are a set of hands on his own shoulders, dragging him away from his boyfriend even as he protests, his own hands clenched in the collar of Jens’s shirt. Milan carefully plucks them away and steps in between them, smiling politely even as he gives Lucas a little shove. 

“Your lovely boyfriend isn’t going anywhere, but you have friends waiting to hug you and gifts waiting to be opened,” Milan says, seemingly genuinely apologetic. 

Lucas groans, but greets Milan with a kiss on the cheek before letting himself be led around the room. 

~^~

He’s exhausted by the time everyone leaves, dead on his feet in the kitchen as he empties the abandoned bottles of alcohol. He rubs at his eyes as arms slip around his waist from behind and a soft kiss is placed on the side of his neck. A smile takes over his face as he leans back into Jens’s warmth, tempted to turn around and curl into his hold and never move. 

“You shouldn’t be cleaning up, it’s your birthday,” Jens admonishes, taking the bottle from his grip and placing it on the counter. “I’ll do it tomorrow. It’ll be fine until then.”

Lucas hums, debating only for a few seconds before he gives in with a nod. He turns in his boyfriend’s hold to wind his arms around his neck, resting against his chest as he closes his eyes and lets out a tired breath. Jens hugs him for a moment, cupping the back of his head and keeping him close. 

“Did you have a good day?” Jens asks quietly. 

“Mmhm,” Lucas assures, smile spreading back over his face. “The best day.”

Jens huffs, chest shaking with silent laughter as he draws back and leads Lucas out of the room. “Okay, bedtime.”

Lucas is maybe, kinda, a little tipsy. And probably slightly high. But he knows these minor factors aren’t the source of his happiness. That it’s more to do with Kes and Jayden sprawled together on the pull-out sofa, already snoring lightly and completely forgoing the blankets Jens had left out for them. Isa had also been offered a spot, but she’d declined in favour of staying with Jana, who had an actual spare room to offer her. The rest of his friends had filtered out slowly through the night, Yasmina being the first to disappear with a sweet kiss to his cheek and Robbe and Sander being the last to linger, helping them make the place somewhat less of a mess. Or at least, they’d tried to, even as Robbe and Jens got distracted messing around with the streamers and Lucas had proudly been presenting his blurry polaroids to Sander. 

“Do you think we’ll have to buy a new sofa now?” Lucas sniffs, glancing suspiciously back over his shoulder at his friends’ still forms. 

Jens bites his lip to muffle his laugh. “No, I think the sofa will be okay.”

Lucas hums. “Okay. That’s good.”

He pauses in the doorway to their bedroom, leaving Jens to bump into his back as his eyes train on the bowl in the center of the bed. 

“Jens,” Lucas whispers. 

“Luc.”

“Why is there a dog bowl on our bed? Is this some kind of kink thing?”

Jens doesn’t bother muffling his laughter this time, and Lucas smiles as he rings it loud and unabashed next to his ear. Jens shakes his head and nudges him into the room until he can close the door behind them, pursing his lips in amusement as he turns Lucas to face him. “No. It’s not a kink thing. It’s entirely innocent, I promise.”

Lucas’s eyes widen. “You better not be fucking with me.”

“I didn’t get one,” Jens says quickly. “Because even though I wanted it to be a surprise, it’s ours, and I want you to have a say. Which is why I got a size and gender neutral bowl for now until I can take you to the shelter tomorrow.”

Lucas presses his hands to his cheeks, smushing them until his lips are ridiculously puckered. “I love you.” He kisses him, short repetitive pecks that start on his lips and move around the rest of his face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”