#wtfic

Sander had only recently moved out of his parent’s house, now living by himself in a one-room studio closer to his school and his weekend job at a local art gallery. Technically, Robbe still lived with his parents, but he was such a frequent visitor at Sander’s place, that he had his own drawers in the boy’s bedroom dresser, a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, and a side of the bed he preferred. While the apartment was still sparse, Sander had added his own artsy touches, including modern-style furniture and framed artwork of Robbe, which Jens and Moyo promptly teased him for when they first entered, jabbing him in the arm and raising their eyebrows.

Now, Jana was breathlessly manhandling the furniture, then grabbing a few nearly-full bottles of vodka as she plopped on the ground, announcing that they were officially starting a rousing game of “Never Have I Ever.”

There were a few groans as everyone shuffled from their comfortable positions. Robbe, who had been sitting on Sander’s lap nursing his second beer, whined as Sander slid him off his lap, setting his drink down and rubbing his hands together in excitement.

“Ooooh,” he crooned. “A game! Let’s do this.” He joined Jana on the floor, pulling Robbe with him, then starting to pour drinks into shot glasses she was lining up. Amber and Aaron joined them, hands still intertwined. Jens clapped Moyo on the back and they finally heaved themselves off the couch and into the makeshift circle on the floor. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” Sander said, cracking his knuckles dramatically and stretching his neck as if bracing himself for war. He held up a shot glass, filled to the brim, liquid teetering out as he spoke. 

“Never have I ever…” he bit his lip, thinking as he stared into the distance. Then he got a wicked grin on his face, glancing over at Robbe. “Never have I ever cried during Call Me By Your Name.”

“Sander!” Robbe shouted, shoving his arm, sending the liquid spilling out of his glass. “You were never supposed to mention that! It was one time! I had something in my eye!”

Everyone was laughing and Robbe blushed, his lips forming a pout that Sander reached over to kiss. 

“It was so adorable, baby! I couldn’t resist! My sensitive boyfriend.” He purred.

Robbe palmed a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe the blush from his cheeks. 

“Drink up, IJzermans!” Jens yelled over the noise.

Everyone watched in shock as Moyo, too, held up a glass, clinking it to Robbe’s as they both downed their shot.

“You, too, man?” Jens said, breaking out into a new bout of laughter that had him doubled over.

“It’s an emotional movie!” Moyo said, shaking away their teasing. “That shit caused some serious waterworks, man. I won’t even lie.”

Sander laughed between the kisses he was still planting on Robbe’s pouting lips, willing him to smile, which he finally did as Jens announced it was his turn.

“Never have I ever,” he began, thinking. “...sung karaoke!”

“Are you kidding?” Jana shouted, incredulous. “That’s like a rite of passage! We’re doing that for our next hangout, for sure.” She held up her glass before downing it, joined by Aaron, Zoe, Moyo, and Sander. 

“How did you not know that?” Jens asked, smiling playfully at Jana. “Didn’t we date?”

“Oh, shut up,” Jana said, shoving him lightly. “Just because we hooked up doesn’t mean we know everything about each other.”

“Ooooh, drama!” Aaron cooed, clapping his hands excitedly. “I knew this game was a good idea.” 

“On that note,” Jana interjected, still smiling, “I think it’s my turn!” She rubbed her hands together, bracing herself. She was looking off into the distance, thinking, then suddenly looked over at Robbe. “Never have I ever….have a crush on my best friend...of the same sex.”

Robbe’s eyes widened, a bright blush creeping us his cheeks. Everyone was oooooh-ing now, looking from Robbe to Jens, then excitedly to Sander.

“C’mon,” Jana urged, lifting her eyebrows. “Drink up, Robbe!”

“Okay, that was like years ago, Jana,” Robbe whined, gazing sheepishly at Sander, looking for signs of anger or hurt. “I was still figuring everything out and didn’t even know I had feelings for Jens!”

Sander was smiling, looking down with his tongue in his cheek. 

“I can’t believe you had the hots for Jens,” Moyo said, shaking his head and laughing.

“Hey!” Jens yelled out, a look of mock-offense on his face. “What do you mean? Of course Robbe had a crush on me! I mean, look at me!”

Jana scoffed and rolled her eyes, while Aaron was shaking his head and rubbing his hands over his face. “We could’ve had a Broerrrs romance,” he said. “Wild.”

“Not even,” Robbe said defiantly. “Nothing was ever going to happen there. Obviously. The only boy I’ve ever been in love with — the only one I’ll ever be in love with — is Sander.” He looked desperately at Sander, searching for any sign that he was offended by the turn this conversation had taken. Sander eye’s were bright, sparkling at him.

“Awww,” Jana and Zoe squealed to each other. “That’s precious.”

“Watch out, Sander,” Jens teased, “I might come back to steal yo’ mans. You know he had the hots for me.”

“Sander,” Robbe pleaded, ignoring Jens. “You know that there was nothing between Jens and I, right?” He reached for Sander’s hand, who squeezed it back reassuringly. 

“You’re about to get real drunk, baby,” Sander said then, smirking. “‘Cause it’s my turn.”

Robbe swallowed, blushing a deeper shade of pink, downing the punishment his last revealing “have I ever.”

“Never have I ever…” Sander began, still not taking his eyes off Robbe. “...begged for cyber sex five nights in row.”

“Daaaaaaaamn,” Moyo said, looking away and play-fanning himself with his hand. “It just got hot in here.”

“Sander!” Robbe hush-squealed at him, the second time that evening. “We are not going to talk about our sex life in front of everyone!”

“Drink up, IJzermans,” Sander said, wiggling his eyebrows. Robbe poured into his shot glass from the big bottle in the middle of the floor, then drank it quickly, still flushed. Sander licked his lips, watching him intently.

“Um, do we need to leave the room?” Amber said, embarrassed. 

“Well,” Moyo smirked. “Apparently Robbe likes the virtual stuff, so…”

Robbe blushed again, looking down. “No, we’re going to behave ourselves now,” he said, quietly. “Right, Sander?”

“Speak for yourself,” Sander said grinning, while Robbe groaned. 

“Oh-kay,” Zoe said, clapping her hands. Robbe mouthed a thank you at her from across the circle, grateful for the distraction. “My turn!” She rolled her glass between her hands, thinking. “Never have I ever...made a vlog.” She smirked at the broerrrs, lifting her glass, urging them to drink. 

“Oh c’mon,” Aaron said, wincing as he swallowed down his shot. “You wish you could be as cool as us.”

Zoe scoffed. “You know, I really don’t.”

Robbe was already starting to feel warm and light, a combination of the alcohol — which he was disproportionately drinking in comparison to everyone else — and the baring of the dirty details of his relationship. He was not going to survive this game. Thinking this, he turned to look at Sander, who was gazing at him, licking his lips.

Oh boy, Robbe thought. Now he was even more woozy. Everyone else’s conversation and laughter around him was blurring and bubbling and Sander’s gaze was hot on him. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, aching for the relief of fresh air.  

“....that rapping video?” He heard Jana say. “That was...wow. That was something else.” She busted up into a fit of laughter, Zoe and Amber joining in. 

“What?!” Jens shouted. “That was one of our best!” More laughter erupted from the girls.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Moyo said, quieting everyone. “I’ll remember this conversation when we’re famous.”

Jana scoffed and Amber shook her head. 

“Who’s next?” Moyo asked, looking around, settling with a smirk on Sander. “Jack Frost? Got anything else you want to share about our boy?”

“Nooooo,” Robbe objected, slurring slightly. “No more from you, you hear me?” He shook his empty shot glass at Sander.

“Oh, like what?” Sander said, shrugging innocently. “I mean, you’d be surprised what Robbe has done….but then we’d be here all night and Robbe would be even more drunk than he already is. 

More oooohs filled the room, and Robbe couldn’t take it. Loopy and overheated, he launched at Sander, tackling him to the ground and pressing a finger to his lips. “Quiet, you!” 

Sander eyes widened, and he leaned up to kiss Robbe, his finger caught between their kiss.

Ooohs turned to ewwwws quickly as Sander started pulling Robbe closer, ignoring their friends around them as he connected their lips and refused to let go.

“Aaaaaand that,” Jens said, shifting to stand, “is our cue to exit.”

Everyone scrambled to escape the PDA, Jana doubling back with a hand shielding her eyes to grab the bottle of alcohol and run back to catch up with the exiting crew. 

“Do you think I was going to let you just sit there looking so hot and suffer through talk about your crush on Jens?” Sander leaned up to whisper in Robbe’s ear, nipping it softly. “I needed to get everyone out of here. Fast.”

Robbe just pulled back, looking at him with heavy breath. Before he leaned down to give Sander a passionate kiss, he heard Jens yell from the doorway.

His stomach was doing little flips he did not appreciate as he carefully scrolled through each of his photos. It was obnoxious how good-looking he was. How confident he appeared. Robbe wished he had some of it. He tried to keep his fingers still, stopping himself from automatically double-tapping (oh my god, the nightmare that would be, he thought to himself) any of the aesthetically-pleasing photos he saw. 

God, he was attractive. And talented. And hot. Did he mention hot? But even if Robbe wasn’t up-to-date with the happening on social media, or in-the-know with the whos-whos of popular figures in his town, he knew these kinds of boys. Good-looking, but knew it. Too cool for anyone. Untouchable. So there was literally no point in torturing himself with images of this supermodel boy and his tan skin and his perfect life. There was no point in torturing himself with the idea that this boy was wondering about him. It meant nothing. 

Yet, he was still thinking about it as he skated to the park, music blasting from his earbuds. Why had Sander even bothered asking that photographer about him? There was nothing even remotely captivating about him, even in a photo with nice composition or cool colors. It was just a comment, he told himself. Those social media types were all about engagement, right? 

But despite this script that he kept repeating to himself all the way to the park, his stomach was in knots. Nervous tumbles that wouldn’t let up, especially when he thought back to this morning, when he had been scrolling Sander’s feed. He’d returned to the top and refreshed out of habit. As he did, he jumped slightly as a new photo popped up, recently posted. A selfie. A shirtless selfie. Robbe’s mouth was suddenly dry and he felt himself turning red as he remembered the image. Morning light drifting over Sander’s lightly-browned skin, illuminating muscles and ridges...

Then, suddenly, he was flung backward. He’d hit a bump coming into the park and had landed hard on the ground, his skateboard rolling out from under him. Except, it wasn’t a bump. He’d run smack into someone, who was already talking, apologizing. 

“Geez, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” but he stopped. 

“Oh. My God.” Robbe said, and while he’d meant his tone to be apologetic — it was him who hadn’t been paying attention — it was those damn ridges, after all… his strained voice came out more...shocked. Because standing over him, already reaching down to pull him up, was a tall boy, with a shock of bleached-blonde hair and a camera slung over his shoulder. The boy. Sander.

Robbe tried to speak again, but his mouth was desert dry and his face felt like it was on fire. Plus, everything in his brain was reduced to punctuation: ? and !. 

“Oh, uhm. I. Sorry,” Robbe finally managed, voice rasping.

Sander was still holding out his hand, but it looked like he considered drawing it back. A dark blush was creeping up his neck and cheeks. 

“No, it’s...uh, it’s my fault. I...I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He seemed to regain some composure, leaning down again to offer his hand to Robbe, seeming confident now. How did he manage that?

Robbe’s stomach flipped as he grabbed Sander’s hand, letting him be pulled upright. He tried not to think about the warmth, the softness of Sander’s palm, the length of his fingers curling around Robbe’s. Was his stomach going to just be an endless tangle of knots? His thoughts an endless !!!! ?

“Are you okay?” Sander asked, sounding genuinely worried.

Robbe nodded and brushed himself off, focusing on gathering his things carefully, as if that would distract his blush away. Sander walked over, picking up his skateboard from where it had landed near a bench and handed it back to him. Before Robbe could stop himself, he heard himself speak.

“You’re...Sander Driesen?”

Sander’s face fell a little, looking sheepish now. 

“Oh, you...you know me?”

If Robbe had been confident enough, he would’ve said, “And you know me.” But he didn’t. He just looked at Sander, face still bearing the blushing results of this entire exchange.

“Well, yeah,” Robbe said, trying to clear his throat. He definitely wasn’t about to mention the many, many minutes he’d spent staring at Sander’s abs. Or that he’d been led to his profile in the first place because his friends had basically Nancy Drew’d his comment from a random photo of him.  Or that he knew that Sander knew who he was. 

“From..you know...Instagram?” Robbe said, smiling slightly. “All the kids at my school won’t shut up about you.”

Sander laughed. “Oh! Well, I guess...I’m sorry about that. I’m...definitely not worth talking about.”

“Well,” Robbe said, shrugging. “I think your 500,000 followers would disagree.”

At this, Sander lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, so you really keep tabs on me, then?”

Robbe was sure his face was on fire. In fact, his whole body was probably igniting into flames this very moment. Goodbye, world.

“Right,” he said, looking anywhere but at the very attractive boy lifting very attractive eyebrows at him. “I guess I better—” Robbe was gripping his board and starting to walk away, but Sander spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry again, ….” he paused, waiting for him to offer up his name.

“Oh. Robbe. I’m Robbe.”

Sander smiled, a deep smile that seemed to reach to his eyes. It made Robbe a little woozy. Was he breathing?

Despite his disregard for Sander, the two had practically grown up together, sharing the same hallways at school, occupying the same classes, mixing in similar social circles. But really, they couldn’t have been more different. While Sander was loud, overly-confident, and snarky, Robbe was small, quiet, and didn’t thrive on being the center of attention. In fact, when he’d come out a few months before, he kept to himself even more, trying to distance himself from unwanted scrutiny. And for that and many other reasons, he avoided Sander Driesen any chance he got.

That is, until one biology class in October when he’d gotten in trouble for talking too loudly with Zoe. The two always sat together in their shared classes, having grown close when Robbe moved into the flatshare with Zoe, Senne, and Milan. They were in the midst of excitedly debriefing Milan’s date the night before, sharing details they’d gathered from their conversations with him. The teacher had been handing out assignments for a big, upcoming project to the seated pairs when she called out the two for their disruptive discussion.

“Loockx, IJermans, split up, please,” she’d finally announced, exasperated. “Zoe, please go work with Britt, and Sander, come up and pair up with Robbe. Maybe then you’ll actually get some work done.”

Annoyed, Zoe slumped her shoulders and started gathering up her books. “Yeah, I sincerely doubt it,” she said under her breath to Robbe, who smiled briefly before wishing her luck. “I bet Sander will have fun,” she offered quickly, resigning herself to the back row.

Robbe scoffed at her lame tease, but Robbe couldn’t escape the dread that was filling his stomach as he glanced back at Sander. With a cigarette tucked behind his ear, partially hidden in white locks, he gathered his bag while winking at Britt, who blushed.

Robbe groaned. Seriously? How could this be happening?

He turned back toward the desk, bracing himself for what was surely going to be a tortuous affair. Glancing over the pages of the assignment the teacher had distributed, his stomach dropped even more. It was a long project, surely demanding lots of time and effort, even more now that he’d probably have to do the whole assignment himself.

“Hey, Robin,” Sander said, finally appearing at his side. Slamming down his books on the desk and sitting backwards in the chair next to Robbe, he straddled it with the obnoxious confidence of someone who lived a middle-finger-to-the-world lifestyle.

Robbe rolled his eyes and kept flipping through his own textbook, determined to get a jump on the assignment, with or without Sander’s help.

“So, yeah. This is going to be a lot of work, so we better get started,” Robbe began, not looking at Sander. “We can just divide it up and do our own halves separately so that–”

“We could do that,” Sander said, interrupting him with a pointed smirk. “Or, we could work on it together. That is, if you trust me not to mess it up.” He was smiling, making Robbe roll his eyes again.

“Well, since you mention it, you’re right,” Robbe said, looking at him full-on now. “I don’t trust you.”

Sander’s smile faded, and he swallowed. He looked into Robbe’s eyes silently for a moment before speaking. “Maybe you don’t know me well enough to trust me, Robbe.”

Robbe furrowed his brow, not dissuaded by Sander’s genuine and suddenly out-of-character tone.

“I know you, Sander,” Robbe stated. “I’ve known you pretty much my whole life and I feel like I’ve got a pretty good read on who you are. So forgive me for not having the capability to trust you.”

With heat rising to his cheeks, Robbe slammed his book shut and started shoving books and papers into his bag. Then, the bell rang. Robbe didn’t waste any time leaving Sander behind.

This was going to be the longest four weeks of Robbe’s life.

........

All Robbe wanted to do was go home, climb under his covers, and sleep for days. Just a few weeks into the school year, and he was already drowning in work, stress, and insomnia. Plus, now the situation with his mother was creating additional worry that kept him up late into the night, rubbing dark circles into his eyes and straining aches into his shoulders.

But he couldn’t go home, not yet. He knew that once he walked through the door, Zoe would force him to eat a sensible dinner, Senne would assault him with questions about the dark circles under his eyes, and Milan would sit on the counter, talking endlessly about why he was so happy to be done with high school. He loved his flatmates, but for now, he had a mountain of work to do, and needed a quiet space to make a dent in it. 

So after classes ended, he collected all of his books and headed to the library, settling into a carrel near the back. It wasn’t like the library was crowded or anything. It was Thursday, and most of his friends and fellow students felt the weekend close enough that they gladly relaxed their grip on schoolwork stress and started going out. But still, Robbe felt more comfortable tucked away in the back of the library, so he could focus fully on his work.

Pulling out his books and pen, he took a deep inhale and started working.

…….

After two and a half hours, Robbe’s eyes were starting to glaze over, and he felt himself re-reading the same sentence in his textbook over and over again.

He needed to stretch his legs, get his blood moving again. Plus, there was a reference book he needed, so he allowed himself a quick break to get up and search the stacks. Wandering through the various genres of books, he stopped at a chemistry section, searching the call numbers for the title he needed. He was brushing his hands over the spines, getting closer when he heard muffled voices from a few stacks away. He was surprised anyone was still there. Some librarians, maybe, re-stacking leftover books or wiping down tables. But as he listened, he could’ve sworn he recognized one of the voices. Rounding the corner, he knew why. 

It was Sander. Robbe jumped back behind the shelf, making sure he couldn’t be seen. He could not deal with another “Hey, Robin!” encounter right now. Of all people, Robbe thought, it had to Sander. Sander was sitting with a boy a few grades younger. The boy had a textbook open in front of him, and Sander was leaning over gently, pointing out something on the pages to the boy, who was nodding. Robbe could only make out a few words of what Sander was saying, but he heard enough to gather something that made his mouth drop open slightly. It was biology. Sander was tutoring the boy in biology. 

For a few moments, Robbe could only stand motionless, trying to understand what he was seeing — and hearing. Absent was Sander’s usual bravado. Instead, he was smiling sincerely, talking quietly, and clearly, obviously teaching something well. Seemingly right in front of Robbe’s eyes, Sander’s usual cooler-than-you edges were worn down to reveal something much more real. Handsome, even.

That thought jolted Robbe back to his senses. Handsome? What was he talking about? Clearly, he had been studying too long. He was tired. He needed food. But as he headed back to his table and started to pack up his things, his thoughts were swirling. It didn’t make sense to Robbe, what he’d just witnessed. All this time, he had come to know Sander to be obnoxious, loud, and self-centered. The kind to skip school to smoke cigarettes….not help tutor other students. Sander was the one who would have meaningless hookups at parties, blast Bowie from his car driving out of the school parking lot, tease Robbe endlessly. But what he just saw….that was a different Sander. 

Maybe Robbe didn’t really know him at all. 

……

When Robbe got to biology the next day, Sander was already there, sitting in his seat next to Robbe’s, doodling something on the corner of his paper, lost in focus. He briefly looked up with Robbe sat down, shifting his books slightly to cover the drawing. 

“Robin,” he threw Robbe’s way, his mouth lifting in a small smirk. 

Their teacher entered the classroom, shuffling to her desk and immediately calling out to them to spend the period working on their projects. 

“Use your time wisely!” she admonished. 

Robbe swallowed and turned toward Sander.

“Sander, look I—”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Sander interrupted. “I already started working on my half.” Sander took a handful of papers out of his bag, waving them in front of Robbe. Robbe was momentarily silent as he glanced at the papers, covered top to bottom with Sander’s handwriting, a neat scrawl that again surprised Robbe.

“Oh, wow,” Robbe finally said. “I didn’t think that you—”

“That I’d actually do anything?” Sander smirked again. “Like I said before, maybe you don’t know me quite as well as you think you do, Robbe.” Robbe met Sander’s gaze, his green eyes vibrant, piercing. Robbe just stared into them, trying to find his breath again. 

But before he could, Sander spoke again. “I’ll make sure to get all of my half done before the due date. Don’t worry about it.” At that, Sander turned back to his paper, resuming his drawing. 

Robbe just sat there, trying to hide his shock and growing humiliation. He glanced back at Zoe, desperately wishing for her help. But she didn’t meet his gaze. She sat, elbow on the desk, chin in her palm, looking bored as Britt told a story, her hands gesturing widely. 

Sander and Robbe spent the rest of the period in silence. 

……

Robbe felt like crap.

Sander had openly called him out on being judgmental, and okay. He had been. But before these last few interactions, Robbe wouldn’t have thought twice about what he’d said. He’d known Sander all his life, hadn’t he? He’d seen what he was like. The two had essentially been rivals for the majority of their lives. But now, Robbe felt like everything was off. Sander wasn’t pestering him with comments about his small size, or the long hair he’d had several years before. It seemed like...Sander was trying to be civil. 

Sure, Sander probably just wanted to stay on good terms for the duration of the assignment, not making things more difficult for either of them with endlessly unproductive back-and-forth banter about how much they disliked each other. Clearly, from what he’d seen yesterday at the library, Sander was smart. He must care about the assignment, and in general, his grades. But some small part of Robbe felt like...maybe...maybe Sander did want some sort of friendship with him. Okay, maybe not friendship. That was going too far. A mutual respect, maybe? How could Robbe cling to his stupidly stubborn pride when Sander was (albeit unconsciously) offering his own version of a tiny olive branch? Yeah, he knew what he’d seen of Sander. But deep inside, he knew it wasn’t all of him.

….. 

Robbe hadn’t gotten to talk to Zoe the whole period, so he waited after class for Britt to leave so he could detail his weird interactions with Sander. But to his surprise, it was Sander who approached Zoe first, giving Britt a small kiss on the cheek before telling her he’d see her around. She left the room looking a little deflated. 

The room was empty, and Robbe didn’t want to wait around, so obviously eavesdropping, so he went outside, pausing to wait at Zoe’s locker. Robbe waited, those few minutes annoyingly long. What could they even be talking about? 

Then suddenly, Sander exited the classroom with Zoe, the two laughing about something. Great, they have inside jokes now, Robbe thought. That’s just super.

“I’ll text you later, then.” Sander said, and Zoe nodded. Then he turned and started walking down the hall, those damn boots echoing through the hallway.

As Zoe approached Robbe, she started to speak quickly, seeing Robbe’s frustrated expression, and arms folded tight across his chest.

“Robbe, it’s not—”  

“What the hell, Zoe?! Did Sander seriously just try to ask you out?” Robbe spit out, his voice rising. “Everyone knows you’re with Senne! The nerve of that guy—”

Zoe took another step toward Robbe, reaching out to put her hands gently on his shoulders, smiling slightly.

“No, Robbe,” she said calmly. “He wasn’t asking me out. Relax. He asked for my help with something.”

“Are you serious?” Robbe asked. “What?”

She smiled again before answering. “He asked if I could help him bleach his hair.”

……

It was Saturday, and Zoe had been in the bathroom with Sander for over an hour. Sander had come over early, while everyone was eating breakfast, greeting the roommates with croissants before waving a paper bag full of boxed hair dyes at Zoe. 

“You ready for this?” He’d asked, smiling.

Robbe rolled his eyes, hiding his frown behind his coffee cup, pulling down his boxers to cover more of his exposed body. He could not believe Zoe had let Sander come to their flat, knowing how much he tortured Robbe. 

“I promise you it will be way easier than mine!” laughed Zoe, turning one of the boxes over in her hands, looking over the instructions briefly. “You have way less hair than I do.” 

She took another sip of her coffee, gave Senne a quick kiss on the cheek, and motioned for Sander to follow her to the bathroom. Sander glanced over at Robbe before he followed, smiling at Robbe’s tousled bed head and giving him a quick wink, eyes glowing fiercely green. Robbe just blinked, feeling so out of place with Sander in their apartment. When the two blondes were gone, Milan gasped. 

“Who was that?” he asked excitedly. “He’s hot!” Senne laughed.

Robbe rolled his eyes again, groaning. “Don’t even start with that, please. He’s this obnoxious kid from school and he should not be here.”

“I didn’t mean hot for me, Robbe.” Milan stated. “I obviously meant hot for you.”

Robbe nearly choked on his coffee. “What are you talking about, Milan?” 

“Uhm, that obviously you two are going to be making out in ten minutes,” Milan said, as if it were the most decidedly obvious matter.

“Milan!” Robbe hissed, his face started to burn with humiliation. “Could you talk any louder?!” 

“Sorry,” Milan said casually, shrugging his shoulders. “But it’s true. The tension between you two is insane.”

“You are ridiculous, Milan,” Robbe said with a huff. “I hate Sander and he hates me, so. That’s that.” Robbe put his cup to his lips again, trying to calm his hands. 

Milan turned to him, looking confused. “Hates you? No. No, not a chance,” he said decidedly, picking up a croissant. 

“Why do you say that?” Robbe asked, bewilderment — and slight curiosity — now pricking at him. 

“Uhm, because we all saw the way he just looked at you,” he said, motioning around the room, as if a crowd had gathered. He took a bite of croissant. “That was clearly the look of someone who is into you...and just doesn’t know how to show it. Which makes sense. You are a bit...prickly, sometimes.”

Robbe could not believe what he was hearing. Milan was delusional. He needed to go back to bed. Grabbing his mug and what was left of his toast, he shook his head and got up to go back to his room. As he exited the doorway of the kitchen, Milan called out after him, “I will require a plus one on my wedding invite, Robbe!” 

Robbe gasped, sprinting back to hurl his toast at Milan, who ducked, laughing loudly.

Robbe groaned again, shaking his head as he finally made it to his room. Opening the door, he immediately jumped back, coffee sloshing out onto his t-shirt. Sander was in his room, and he was half naked. 

“Uhm, what the hell?” Robbe called out, and Sander spun around, quickly pulling a towel towards his chest. 

“Sorry, Robbe,” he said sheepishly. “I should’ve asked you. Zoe just told me to get undressed in here so I wouldn’t get bleach on my clothes. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Robbe stammered. “I—I just...you surprised me, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Sander smiled, motioning to the coffee stains spreading across his shirt. He grabbed his own Bowie shirt he’d left on the bed, handing it over to Robbe. “Here. Use mine.” He hesitated briefly. “But, then again, it isn’t a size small. You might drown in my clothes.” He was actually grinning now.

Robbe felt warm all of the sudden. He didn’t know if it was hot coffee seeping onto his body through his shirt, the sight of Sander’s tan skin, or the thought of wearing his clothes that was making him flushed. He was so infuriating.

“I don’t need your clothes, obviously,” Robbe shot back. “This is my room, remember? I have clothes here. Which I wouldn’t even need if you hadn’t gotten naked in my bedroom and shocked me into dousing myself with coffee.” Robbe was flustered, and Sander just smiled at him, his grin widening. He was taking a step towards Robbe, when Zoe called out from the hallway. 

“Sander? You coming? I have everything ready.”

“Be right there,” Sander answered back, eyes still locked with Robbe’s. For a second, Robbe thought he was going to say something, but while Robbe stood there, waiting, Sander exhaled and walked past Robbe into the hallway, brushing his arm with Robbe’s as he went by. 

……

Robbe could not fall asleep that night. 

Maybe it was the fumes from the bleach that were keeping him up. Zoe had cracked the windows in the bathroom while dying Sander’s hair, but still. The smell permeated. 

He just laid there, tossing and turning, trying to quiet his head and get the images from the day to clear from his mind. Well...just the one image. The image of Sander, shirtless, in his bedroom. He flopped on his back in frustration, internally writhing with shame that his mind was somehow hitching back repeatedly on these overpowering visions. Sander was always wearing that stupid jacket, the stupid boots, the stupid band t-shirts. It was his persona, his identity. But seeing Sander like that, unmasked, uncovered, and just...bare...it was too much for Robbe. He couldn’t stop thinking about the taut muscles of his biceps, his abs, the golden skin that contrasted with his white hair. Hair that now, when Robbe thought about it….didn’t look that bad at all. 

When Sander had left his room, he’d shut the door tight, avoiding Sander the rest of the morning. He couldn’t bear to face him again, likely saying or doing something stupid he’d regret. He just put on his headphones and tried to block out the sounds of conversation from the bathroom. He’d fallen asleep before Sander left. And now, sleep fled from him. He wanted so badly to close his eyes and get lost in meaningless dreams, letting the ridiculous thoughts about Sander slip into nothingness. He wanted to forget about it all. 

He and Sander were enemies. They were supposed to avoid each other at all costs, and when they did cross paths, they were to simply call out their usual insults to each other and move on, carrying on with their own separate lives.

But here they were, getting thrown together again and again in the space of a week, and Robbe wasn’t sure he could bear it. He wanted things to go back to normal. Robbe IJzermans and Sander Driesen, rivals. 

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Robbe’s phone buzzed from his bedside table, briefly lighting up his room in a blue neon glow. He reached out, opening the new message that pinged on the screen. It was a number he didn’t know.

Hey, Robin. It’s Sander. Zoe gave me your number. I just wanted to say sorry, again, for today. I shouldn’t have gotten into your personal space. 

Robbe’s stomach lept. Him. Again.

His fingers hovered over the keys. Should he answer? His mind swirled with competing thoughts. Finally, a thought settled on him. Maybe in order to get through the next few weeks with Sander unscathed, he just had to play nice. Avoiding him didn’t seem to be working, obviously. Maybe, he thought….maybe he should just lean in. Be civil, do the work, move on. That’s it. 

He typed back a reply before he could stop himself, then quickly turned off his phone and rolled back over in the bed. He tried to squash down the anxious feeling budding inside him. 

It’s okay, Sander. 

Also, I was thinking. I think we should work on the biology project together. Let’s talk tomorrow at school?

……..

Robbe’s palms were embarrassingly clammy as he knocked on the door to Sander’s flat. He wiped them on his jeans, berating himself for acting so ridiculous. He’d told Sander he wanted to meet up, after all. 

When he’d turned on his phone the next morning, he saw that Sander had replied immediately to his last message, shooting back Good idea. See you Monday. 

Sander had greeted him with a sheepish smile in class the next week, immediately jumping in to explain what research he’d done for the assignment so far. They’d settled quickly into easy conversation, exchanging ideas and letting the class hour pass rapidly. As the bell rang and they started to gather up their things, Sander had turned again to Robbe. 

“So, do you want to work on this more after school one day this week?” He paused briefly before continuing, looking at Robbe for confirmation. “We could...work on it at my house? Friday? My parents are going out and won’t be there to bug us.” He laughed.

Robbe smiled, but felt anxiety creeping up on him. 

“Uhm, yeah. We could do that.”

“Okay, great.” Sander said, pulling his bag up on his shoulder. “I’ll text you my address.” He smiled once more at Robbe before turning to leave. 

While Robbe finished packing up, Zoe appeared at his side.

“So, what exactly happened in your bedroom yesterday?” she asked, 

Robbe dropped his book on the desk, a loud smack echoing in the room. 

“What?” he said, startled.

Zoe laughed. “Sander told me that you walked in on him naked, and today...you guys seem chummy. What’s that all about? Was Milan right? Did you two make out?!” Her voice was getting louder, squealing at even the briefest thought of scandal. 

“Oh my gosh, Zoe. No!” Robbe shot back, trying to keep his voice level, while heat flooded his cheeks. “I kicked him out of my room and took a nap. That’s all.” 

Zoe’s shoulder slumped. “Dang,” she said with a huff. “I was hoping you two would finally do it and get it over with so you could stop torturing us.”

Robbe turned toward Zoe straight on. 

“What are you talking about?!” Robbe said, nearly yelling now. “Did Milan talk to you? I’m not sure why you two are so hell-bent all of the sudden on insisting there’s some sort of love connection between the two of us, but I can assure you, there is not.”

Zoe looked at Robbe skeptically, nodding with a Right. Sure. look as he spoke.

“Plus,” Robbe continued, arguing his stance. “He’s hooking up with Britt anyway. He’s not even into guys!”

“You’re not serious, right?” Zoe asked. “Everyone, literally everyone knows that those two aren’t hooking up. Even if Britt wanted that.” Zoe confirmed. “Believe me, all she talks about is boys. I’ve gotten the complete story on all the guys in her life the past few days. Sure, she and Sander have flirted, but it’s never been anything serious. I think she’s into some college guy….” Zoe trailed off, trying to remember specifics. “Plus,” she said, returning to the conversation again. “Sander is pansexual. Everyone knows that.”

Was he? And why was Robbe stomach suddenly leaping at this?

“I don’t believe you,” Robbe countered, brushing his dangerously wandering thoughts aside. “In fact, I don’t believe any of this. You and Milan are crazy.”

“Aw, you’re cute when you’re in denial,” Zoe cooed before turning on her heel and leading Robbe out into the hallway.

Now, days later, Robbe was standing in front of Sander’s door, his classroom conversation with Zoe tangling in his thoughts as he tried to level his shallow breathing. Then, the door opened, and Sander was standing there, in a Queen t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs and made Robbe’s breath hitch in his throat. Stop staring, he commanded himself. Sander smiled and opened the door wider, motioning for Robbe to come in. He took off his shoes, placing them next to Sander’s boots that were parked by the door. Those damn boots.

“So I figured we could just start by comparing notes and then flesh out an outline for our paper?” Sander offered, leading Robbe into the flat. Robbe nodded in agreement, but didn’t speak, taking in the layout of Sander’s house. 

For all the things that Sander knew — or thought he knew — about Sander Driesen, he couldn’t have expected this. The flat was warm, cozy, and well-designed. There were soft couches and artsy interiors to his right, and an open kitchen to his left. Pictures torn out of sketchbooks — images surely done by Sander — lined the walls in frames.  

Catching Robbe staring at them, Sander laughed. 

“My parents are annoyingly proud,” he said. “I promise, I didn’t ask them to put these up.” He smiled, watching Robbe slowly walk down the hallway, looking at each one. Sander put his hands in his pockets, seeming sheepish now.

“They’re good,” Robbe finally admitted, turning towards Sander. “You’re really talented.”

The slightest of blushes crept to Sander’s cheeks, but he looked down quickly and cleared his throat. “Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?”

“Water’s fine,” Robbe answered. “Thanks.”

While Sander filled a glass in the kitchen, Robbe sat down on the living room couch, shrugging out of his jacket and taking out his books. Sander came into the room, leaning down to hand Robbe the glass. When Robbe grabbed it, Sander gasped.

“Whoa,” he said, startling Robbe. 

“What?” Robbe asked, worried. “What’s wrong?”

Sander smiled. “It’s nothing. It’s just...your hand.”

“My hand?” Robbe asked, confused. He put the glass down on the coffee table next to the couch, lifting his hand to his face, confused.

Sander laughed. “Sorry, I just meant...here—” Suddenly, Sander grabbed his hand, his skin warm and soft against Robbe’s. Pulling it gently towards him, Sander turned his hand over and began tracing the lines on his palm. Lightly brushing a finger over a line near his wrist, Sander spoke. 

“Your fate line, this one here,” he said quietly. “It’s a little curved, just like mine. I’ve never...I’ve never seen anyone else’s look like that.”

Robbe didn’t know if he was breathing. He swallowed, trying to push out the words hanging on his tongue. Sander was still holding his hand with his.

“My fate line?” he finally asked, a little weakly.

Sander smiled. “Yeah, have you ever read about that? Palm reading?”

“No, I haven’t.” Robbe replied, trying to ignore the warmth spreading from Sander’s skin to the rest of his body.

“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of silly,” Sander said, brushing his finger again along the other lines on Robbe’s palm. “My mom was into it for a while. The lines and folds on your hands are supposed to form narratives about who you are and predict your future.” He smiled again, continuing with the lightest of touches. 

“There’s your fate line, head line, life line, sun line….and heart line,” at this last one, he traced the top line, closest to Robbe’s fingers. He looked up and Robbe felt his gaze on him. Meeting his own eyes with Sander’s, his stomach flipped.

 Their brief silence settled there, almost crackling between them with electricity. Robbe watched Sander’s eye slowly roam his face, flicking down almost imperceptibly to his lips. Before Robbe knew what was happening, he yanked his hand from Sander’s grasp, turning back towards his books. 

“So, anyway, we should probably get to work,” Robbe said in a firm tone. 

Sander was still for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“Robbe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You know what, Sander?” Robbe said, rising to stand. “This was probably a bad idea. I should...I should go.”

“What?” Sander stood, stepping towards Robbe. “Robbe, I—”

But Robbe stepped away again, hastily stuffing his books into his bag and zipping it forcefully. 

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Sander.” 

Before he reached the door, Sander called out behind him. 

“Robbe, wait.” 

Robbe was turning the handle. 

“Robbe, stop.” Sander’s voice was firm, deep. Robbe didn’t turn, but paused with his hand on the knob. He waited for Sander to speak again.

But it wasn’t his voice that reached Robbe. It was his hands, grabbing Robbe’s waist and flipping him around. Suddenly, all at once, his lips were on Robbe’s, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, gripping a handful of locks tightly. 

Robbe’s surprise only lasted for a second, as he, without a second thought, opened his lips to Sander’s and wrapped his hands around his back. Feeling his touch, Sander pushed him hard against the door, bringing them even closer. Limbs tangled feverishly, fueled by a heavy need that surprised them both. Sander’s lips enveloped Robbe’s, explored them, held them, like he never wanted to let go. 

Robbe’s insides were like fireworks. Electricity coursed through him, bringing to life his every nerve, every muscle, every feeling. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Sander slid down the side of Robbe’s face, kissing deeply into his cheek, his jaw, then his neck. Robbe let a small hum of pleasure escape his mouth, making Sander pause. His face still tucked into Robbe’s neck, he let himself catch his breath.

“Robbe,” he whined, whispering gently against his ear, his cheek pressed to Robbe’s. “Are you always going to hate me?”

Robbe pulled back slowly, letting Sander’s question hang in the air between them as he looked back at him. He tried to take deep breaths, form coherent words in his mind. When he faced Sander head-on, Sander’s face bore an ache, the ache of vulnerable, pleading, longing.

“Look, I am sorry for always teasing you, Robbe,” Sander said gently, stroking Robbe’s jaw with his thumb. “For joking about your size, for calling you Robin,” Sander smiled at this. “I don’t know why I did that for so long. I just…” 

Robbe waited, breathless. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He looked again into Sander’s face again. How had he never noticed that freckle on Sander’s cheek? Or how his eyes were more forest green than he’d thought? Like moss, soft, yet vibrant. He couldn’t believe he’d never really seen Sander before. Not like this.

“The desire just made me crazy,” he said, exhaling, trying to get the words right. “The tension between us just made me want you even more. But I’m not someone who’s good at just saying when they want something,” Sander continued. “And I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

With one last glance into his eyes, and with a new need that he couldn’t even understand, Robbe grabbed a fistful of Sander’s shirt and pulled him back against him. 

…..

After a while, the messages were getting hard to ignore. 

When his phone sounded a near endless buzz, Robbe had to finally get up off the bed and make sure there wasn’t an emergency. But not being in the tangle of blankets didn’t last long, as Sander quickly tugged on his shirt, pulled him back down into the bed against him. Wrapping his arms around him again, Sander sighed contentedly. 

Robbe smiled, turning to meet Sander’s lips for one quick, deep kiss before turning back to scan his messages. There were a handful from Milan, Zoe, and Senne, all checking in on his whereabouts. 

Zoe: r u coming home soon? I made dinner

Zoe: hello? 

Zoe: hey! r u ok? 

Senne: hey man, u ok?

Milan: stop studying and come home to rescue me. Zoe’s trying to feed us all salad SOS

Zoe: Robbe! Let me know ur ok please!

Senne: can you text Zoe please? She’s freaking out

Milan: uhm, hello?

Sander glanced over, laughing. 

“They care about you, a lot.” 

Robbe smiled back. “Yeah, they’re pretty much my family now.”

He pulled away only briefly to fire off a rapid group text to Zoe, Milan, and Senne: I’m ok. I’m at Sander’s...Be home tomorrow.

Silencing his phone and tossing it across the room and out of sight, he let Sander tackle him back down into the mattress, hovering lightly on top of him.

“Well, I hope they don’t mind sharing,” he purred, leaning into Robbe’s ear. “I don’t think I’m going to let you go anytime soon.”

Robbe melted underneath Sander, allowing him to match the rapid flutters in his stomach with a trail of kisses to his collarbone, his neck, his jawline, and finally, his lips. 

……

It was late the next day when Robbe finally got back to his apartment, with flushed cheeks and donning one of Sander’s t-shirts. He hadn’t wanted to leave Sander’s. In fact, Sander had begged him to stay, attempting to persuade him with soft, fleeting caresses along his thighs, lustful nips at his neck, and gentle tugs on the waistband of his underwear. It was driving Robbe crazy, and he almost couldn’t resist. 

After talking for hours on end, Sander laughing about their decade-long stand-off and the sexual tension he swore was there between them from the beginning, he admitted easily that he thought Robbe’s long hair was sexy, and he loved that he was small enough to be picked up and carried to the bed. 

This made Robbe laugh, a bright blush creeping up into his cheeks. He told Sander how much he loved his drawings, and that he knew how smart he was. He sheepishly admitted that he hadn’t stopped thinking about Sander’s abs since that moment in his bedroom. He wasn’t, however, relinquishing his hate for his boots, though. That was non negotiable. Joking about throwing them out the window, Sander shoved Robbe playfully, pushing him down to the mattress, pinning his wrists above his head in submission. 

Eventually, their talking had turned into kissing, then slowly into touching, and they spent that whole night, and nearly the whole next day exploring each other, learning and re-learning their real selves in relation to the other. It felt like magic.

But as the sun set on Saturday night, Robbe finally pulled himself out of Sander’s grasp, promising with a nearly never-ending series of kisses that he’d be back. 

As soon as he entered his apartment and shut the door, his three roommates bolted from the kitchen, crashing into each other as they collided in the hallway. When they saw Robbe, they started screeching, yelling and talking over each other.

“Oh. My. God. Robbe!” Zoe squealed, running up to him.

Milan leaned against the wall, clearly pleased with himself. “I told you. I so told you. Okay, so it was more than ten minutes. But still. I am always right about these things.” Senne stood next to Milan, smiling widely. 

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Robbe shouted, shushing them with a wave of his hands. “Calm down. It’s not a big deal. It’s—”

Zoe squealed again, bringing her hands to her face. “Oh my god. You are so in love with him, aren’t you?”

Everyone quieted, listening for his answer. Robbe could only blush.   

With more loud talking and excited chatter, Robbe let his roommates pull him into the kitchen, eagerly awaiting a full minute-by-minute detail of the last two days. 

“What happened?! You have to tell us everything,” Milan pleaded. “Seriously. Everything.” 

Before he dove in, he checked his phone. A message from Sander was waiting for him:

Our next study session is in my room, tomorrow. Don’t be late, Robin.

Robbe fired back. 

I think we’re going to get an A on this assignment. 

.................

Since he’d come out, his relationships with his friends had undergone some serious strain. Of course there was the whole mess with Noor, who he genuinely tried to make things worth with….but it just hadn’t. Jens had taken it well, if not a little frustrated that Robbe had taken so long to tell him. Robbe also suspected he was a little humiliated by the thought that Robbe had once harbored feelings for him. So they moved on and didn’t bring it up again, keeping their conversations safely nestled between school and skating. Aaron and Moyo, on the other hand, had responded in disgust and confusion, leaving Robbe feeling withdrawn and ostracized. So much for the “broerrrs.”

To make matters more complicated, he wasn’t even living at home anymore. Recently, his mom’s health had taken a turn for the worse and she was undergoing treatment at a nearby mental hospital. He missed her, and missed the familiarity of home — his room and his routine. He’d been able to rent a room in a flat of a girl at school, Zoe, and while he liked Zoe, her boyfriend Senne, and the flat owner Milan, he still felt out of place. He was lonely and hating how confusing and complicated his life had become. He just wanted to feel like himself...and to be loved.

His phone buzzed, jolting him back to his surroundings: deep morning light that was reminding him that time was passing and he couldn’t remain in bed all day, and the clink of dishware that meant his roommates were cooking. He could smell near-burning odors wafting underneath his door. He signed and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to check the handful of messages that had entered his group text with the broerrrs. 

Jens: meet @ the park today? I’ve got weed

Aaron: in that case, you know I’m there

Moyo: can’t we go somewhere with more chicks???

Jens: You couldn’t get them anyway, man

Jens: Robbe, u in?

Robbe blew out a heavy breath. His fingers hovered over keys, hesitant. 

Robbe: I should probably do some schoolwork today

Someone was typing back instantly, making Robbe’s palms sweat. God, he was pathetic. 

Moyo: screw that man, it’s Saturday

Moyo: plus, maybe we’ll get papped again?

Aaron: papped?

Moyo: You know, that art hipster who was taking photos for his school project?

Robbe: Someone was taking photos of us?? What the hell?

Jens: Dude, you didn’t know? Yeah, some alternative dude in hipster glasses asked if he could take some photos of us skating for a school thing

Aaron: makes sense, we’re so good looking

Jens: He was trying to get some artsy shots by that graffiti near the ramp. He gave me his handle so we could look at them, let me try to find it

Aaron: yeah better make sure he got my good side

Moyo: wasn’t aware you had one of those

Aaron: 🖕

Jens sent a photo.

Robbe stared at the screen, feeling suddenly flushed. 

Aaron: Duuuuude, Robbe you’re famous!!!

Moyo: hot stuff  😏 

Jens: Are you seeing the comment, though???

Moyo: who the hell is earthlingoddity?

Jens: Just LOOK at his page

The chat was silent for a few moments as everyone pulled up the account on their screen. Robbe stared at the artsy black and white photos and selfies on the account, not exactly sure what he was looking at. Or who.

Aaron: seriously?? SANDER DRIESEN? What the hell!!

Jens: I know, right?! 

Robbe went back to the account, trying to puzzle the pieces together. After a few moments, he gave up and retreated back to the chat. 

Robbe: So...who is Sander Driesen?

Moyo: dude, you have obviously not spent enough time around girls

Robbe: ….well, yeah. The reason for that is fairly obvious

Moyo: Sander is that influencer from here that all the girls are obsessed with 

Influencer? Robbe thought. He pulled Sander’s page back up, startled suddenly when he saw that the boy had more than 500,000 followers. What? How was that possible? All he posted, from what Robbe could tell, were half-naked selfies and...okay, so maybe Robbe had just focused on those. Like, he wasn’t bad looking…

Jens: Yeah, I cannot get Jana to stop talking about him 😑

Robbe: Better watch out, he’ll be coming for your girl

Jens: HA doubt it

Aaron: Sander is gay, I think? Or not gay, but the kind that likes girls, too?

Robbe groaned. His friends were idiots. 

Robbe: Bisexual?

Aaron: Yeah, that one

Moyo: well, clearly he’s more YOUR speed, Robbe. Plus, based on the comment, he’s clearly interested

Moyo: you gotta respond 

Robbe: are you kidding? 

Robbe: no way

Jens: C’mon Robbe! He was asking about you!

Robbe laughed loudly to himself in disbelief.

Robbe: ...to his friend? And that would literally be the creepiest thing ever. Besides, he wasn’t even really asking about me specifically? 

Robbe: it was more like the photo in general

Jens: right….

Moyo: if you won’t respond, I will and I’ll tag you

Robbe: don’t u dare

Moyo: …

Robbe: I WILL KILL U

Aaron: so we meeting up today or what

Robbe never thought he’d be so grateful for Aaron’s off-topic interjection. But thankfully, with that the Sander conversation that was making Robbe’s skin prickle and palms sweat was over. He kicked the bed cover off of him, trying to cool the humiliated blush that had crept over his body. Now that the group chat was onto other things, like what skatepark and what time, he had a moment to return to the photo of himself. 

He hadn’t even known it was being taken. Apparently all his friends had. He had been pretty distracted, not with the skating, but with everything that was going on in his head. He seemed to do everything in a fog these days. In that shot, he looked so...intent, so focused, and he felt weirdly vulnerable that someone had captured him like this. But more vulnerable that someone had noticed him, and commented. 

And Sander Driesen? He’d never heard of him before, but then again, he was sort of out of the loop with popular stuff, unless it was video games or action movies. He returned to Sander’s page and scrolled through it, staring shamelessly at the boy, who really was handsome. He had bleached blonde hair that was a little tousled on top, with dark roots underneath. He had tan skin and a boyish shape, but...it definitely wasn’t unattractive, Robbe thought. 

He posted often about his art, which truthfully, took Robbe’s breath away. It was serious and skilled, but at the same time...it had an air of freedom in it, like it was the way the boy could finally let go of everything. He scrolled through the feed until he nearly reached the bottom, finding pictures of Sander that were more than several years old, when the boy was young. 

Okay, I’ve to stop this?? Robbe thought.

He took one last glance at the photo of himself before he noticed something. In the last few minutes, the photographer had responded to Sander’s comment.

Robbe sat up in bed like he had been electrocuted. He brought the screen closer to his face as he inhaled sharply and read the reply.

Earthlingoddity: Hey man, cool pic. Who’s the kid? 

verfdoordecijfers: thanks, man. Was some kid I met at the skatepark by the restaurant with the French food. He and his friends let me snap some photos for our composition assignment. 

Now that they’d finished dinner, their parents were talking in the living room over glasses of wine, and the group knew it would be a while before they’d be dragged home to their own houses, so they invented games to fill the time. Their favorite was hide-and-seek, and in Sander’s big house, there were plenty of good hiding places. 

That night, Jens was counting, covering his eyes with both hands as he recited numbers up to 100 while the rest of them hid. Robbe took off, scouring the rooms for the tucked-away crevices of the house to hide in. 

Behind the curtains? No, too obvious. The kitchen cabinet? Someone was probably already there. He tiptoed quietly but quickly, trying to put distance between himself and Jen’s voice. As he passed doors in the hallway, he heard Amber’s hushed giggling as she positioned herself underneath a bed, and Moyo and Jana fighting over a hiding spot behind a potted plant. Robbe smiled at them, continuing on towards the end of the hall. He knew Jens was likely close to coming after them, so he needed to find a space, fast.

Then, he was being pulled sideways, a soft hand clutching his elbow to rein him in. Suddenly, he was in the upstairs coat closet, bundles of jackets settling on top of his head as he ducked and stumbled into the space next to another someone.

“Shhh,” motioning a finger to his lips, Sander was crouched there, so close that Robbe could smell him. 

“This is the best hiding spot in the house,” Sander whispered, his breath tickling Robbe’s cheeks. “I didn’t want you to get caught.” 

Robbe was trying to catch his breath, calm his racing heart at the unexpected touch and sudden closeness. For a moment, Sander still held his arm in his grasp. It was a soft, warm touch that made Robbe’s breath shallow.

Even though they’d been friends since their infancy, being with Sander had always made Robbe feel a little unnerved, for reasons he didn’t fully understand. Sander was two years older, vastly cooler and funnier than Robbe ever could be. Confident. Creative. Handsome.

Robbe would never admit it, but he’d always tried to tame his own messy tresses into submission when he got ready in the morning, an attempt to look at least a little like the cool, older boy. He often caught himself staring at the Sander when he wasn’t looking. But he couldn’t let himself think about Sander. It wasn’t what he was supposed to do. Just as Moyo and Jens were already starting to notice girls at their school, Robbe was supposed to, too. 

Crouching closely together, Robbe listened to Sander’s steady breathing, forcing down the wave of nervous flutters in his stomach. He was sure Sander could hear how loudly his heart was beating. But luckily, that was muffled by the sound of Jen’s heavy footsteps, reaching the stop of the stairs. 

“Here I come!” He yelled out. “I am going to find you all so fast!”

Sander scooted backwards, farther into the closet, pulling Robbe with him. He chuckled softly, the sound barely audible as he tangled himself further behind a layer of coats and scarves on hangers. He gently pulled one aside, uncovering his face as he turned his head slightly to look over at Robbe. 

Robbe smiled, barely noticing Jen’s voice calling out down the hall, muffled by the fabric in front of him. He bit his lip, not wanting to be found, to have a few more stolen moments here, hidden with Sander.

A slight blush crept to Robbe’s cheeks as Sander continued to stare at him, his gaze unwavering. Only a small filter of light trickled in underneath the door, but Robbe could still seen the bright green of Sander’s eyes, nearly staring through him. He watched Sander’s eyes flick almost imperceptibly across his face, stopping for only a half-second on his lips. 

Then, almost in slow motion, Sander was leaning in, his breath mixing with Robbe’s as he gently placed his lips on Robbe’s. Robbe felt Sander’s hand gently lift to grasp onto Robbe’s wrist before sliding down to his hand, two fingers tangling with his as he held them softly. Robbe’s heart stopped, his brain unable to form a coherent thought. 

For a second, they remained there, lips touching. Then, there were loud footsteps outside the door, dangerously close, and Sander pulled away suddenly. Robbe was frozen, trying to process. He felt unable to breath.

Then suddenly, flooded flooded their faces as they blinked back the brightness.

“Aha!” Jens yelled, whipping the door open. “Found you two!

…………

Five years had passed, and the group dynamics had changed.

Jens and Jana had just begun dating, a natural extension of the relationship of the group. They just worked together. Robbe had finally cut his hair, a “birthday present” for Jens. Sander they hadn’t seen regularly for a year or so. He’d transferred to an art school and showed up off-and-on at their group gatherings, most recently appearing at Moyo’s house party with a head of bleached blonde hair and a leather jacket. The boys had playfully teased him, mocking his new artsy persona, but Robbe knew it was because they were all secretly jealous. He was attracting girls left and right. 

But now, they saw him less and less, as he naturally fell in with the social circles from his new school. It made Robbe weirdly disappointed, and not just because their group had changed over the years. He missed seeing Sander. He missed his silly jokes, his Bowie shirts, the croques he made for the two of them at midnight, those nights they slept over at Jens and everyone else was asleep before them. His missed sitting on the counter, watching Sander flip the sandwiches, deep in a passioned conversation about the street art he loved around Antwerp. Robbe loved hearing him talk. He swore he could listen to him forever.

Occasionally, Sander would call Robbe out of the blue, asking how he was, catching up on the missed time between them. Robbe waited for these calls desperately, eager to hear his voice, his laugh, to hear him insist that Robbe was in fact, not yet ready for the Advanced Bowie playlist. 

But those calls were infrequent now and it left a humiliating ache inside of Robbe that he tried to ignore. He carried on with Jens and Moyo, the self-proclaimed Broerrs. 

Near the end of that summer, the group had gathered, surprising Robbe with a birthday party at the beach house. A frequent haunt for the group of friends, they spent the days playing paintball among the dunes and deepening their tans. At night, they had bonfires and talked long into the night about their futures. They never wanted those nights to end. 

Now, older, they returned to the beach, celebrating their last days before the new school year. A bonfire swelled on the sand and Jens and Jana sat close, feeding each other marshmallows. Robbe and Moyo talked, laughing about their earlier soccer game. Suddenly, Jens called out, mumbling with a mouth still full of marshmallow.

“There you are, man! I wasn’t sure you were coming!”

Robbe turned and saw Sander, illuminated by the light of the fire, coming towards them with a smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sander replied. “There was a holdup at home. But I wasn’t going to miss Robbe’s big celebration!”

Reaching him, Sander slapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, making warmth flood to his cheeks. Learning down, he whispered with featherlight breath in Robbe’s ear. 

 “It’s good to see you, Robbe.”

Robbe nodded and smiled back at him, quickly lifting the bottle of his drink to his lips to distract himself from being exposed by a further blush. Seeing Sander again after all this time made his stomach twist, an electricity flooding his every nerve. He hated how the blonde boy held such power over him.

Sander joined them, claiming the chair next to Robbe. He lifted his hands to the fire, turning them slightly to warm them. It had been months since he’d seen Sander in person, and within that short time, he could notice visible changes in Sander. He was taller somehow, his height extending the lean, taut stretch of muscle along his arms and legs. A deeper summer tan blanketed his skin. Dark color played at his roots, and the messy tresses of his hair glowed white in the fire. It was at this moment that Sander looked up at Robbe, as if he could read his thoughts. Swallowing in embarrassment, Robbe looked down immediately, busying himself again with his bottle. 

“How’s your fancy art school, Sander?” Moyo asked, talking across Robbe.

Sander laughed. “It’s all good, man. You should consider it. You know what they say about art chicks.” 

“Ahhh, yeah,” Moyo said, nodding. “I like those alternative chicks, man. Does your school have a take-your-friend-to-school day?”  

Sander laughed again, but Robbe just felt sick. Thinking of Sander together with an equally good-looking girl at his school made him physically ill. 

“That’s bold of you, Moyo,” Jens spoke across the bonfire, taking another bite from the marshmallow in Jana’s outstretched hand. “To even think one of those girls would be into you.”

“Shut up, man,” Moyo said, waving him off. “I’ve been getting girls since middle school. Way before you. No offense, Jana.”

Jana just laughed, nodding. “He’s not wrong,” she said to Jens, teasingly. “You’re lucky you even got me.”

Jens nipped at her cheek, then her neck, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Let’s be honest, though,” Jens said. “Sander was the only one of us who had game in middle school.” 

“Oh, stop,” Sander said, waving off embers from the air around him. “I was scared of girls. I still am!” He laughed. “Plus, you guys know I only hung out with you in those days. I always looked forward to those weekends at my place.” 

“Dude, yes!” Moyo said, slapping a knee. “Those were the days. Playing games way past our bedtimes, sneaking sweets from your ginormous kitchen, watching our parents get so drunk that by the end of the night they were singing karaoke.”

Robbe laughed at this, memories suddenly coming back to him. He really had missed those moments, nights when things were so much easier, so much less complicated than now. 

“I’ll never ever forget my mom’s rendition of ‘Jij Bent Van Mij,’” Jana said, groaning. She shook her head, as if trying to mentally erase the memory. 

“Dude!” Jens said, sitting up now. “Do you remember those epic games of hide and seek we used to play? “

“Oh, yeah!” Sander said, nodding as his mouth widened in a smile. “I forgot about that!”

“If I remember correctly, I was the best at finding you losers,” Jens said cockily. 

“Oh, please,” Sander said, rolling his eyes. “Robbe and I always found the best hiding spot and kept you guys looking for hours.”

The memories that had faded by time were now coloring in Robbe’s mind, forming concrete edges and fully-fleshed sequences.

Hiding with Sander, a small space. Jens heavy footsteps in the hallway. Surrounded by fabric. Coats. Then...in a warm, heart-stopping flash, it came back to him. 

The kiss.

That one night, Robbe and Sander had kissed.

Trying to level his now labored breath, Robbe strained to remember. They had kissed. They had been young. And so close, close enough that Sander in a breath could lean over and touch his lips to Robbe’s. It had lasted only a second, half a second. But the memory burned into him like it had just happened. How had Robbe forgotten?

Or had Robbe manufactured that memory in his mind? 

“Well, I’m calling it a night,” Moyo said, suddenly standing beside them. “I have to grab the double bed before Jens and Jana try to claim it and keep us up all night.” He laughed as Jens glared at him, hastily picking Jana up off his lap and grabbing her hand to sprint after Moyo. With laughter and yells, they were gone.

Now, deep waves of nerve were swelling within Robbe as he sat alone with Sander, the crackling of the bonfire filling the silence. 

Robbe twisted the bottle in his hands, trying to grasp at a word, any words to say to Sander, who was smiling to himself. 

Then, he turned to Robbe, pulling himself closer so that his knee was touching Robbe’s. Robbe looked up at him, watching Sander’s green eyes meet his.

“You’re not going to bed yet, right?” he asked with a smile. “I still need to give you your birthday present.”

Robbe could only shake his head, his throat dry. Sander stared back at the fire, still smiling. 

“Want to take a walk?” he said, leaning in closer now. “I heard sea air prevents hangovers,” he laughed as he cocked a head at Robbe’s now-empty bottle. 

Robbe laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I could use some non-smoky air.” Leaving his bottle on the ground next to his chair, he stood and followed Sander as he headed toward the sound of the waves.

…

Hearing Sander ramble on again was like water to Robbe’s thirsty soul. He never wanted him to stop. 

But at the same time, he had to speak. If he didn’t ask, he thought he would explode. So when Sander paused, taking in the waves, he cleared his throat.

“So, uh,” Robbe said, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. “Remember when we were talking with the other guys about those nights at your house?”

“Yeah,” Sander said, turning back to him and nodding. “What about it?”

“Well, about hide-and-seek...do you remember actually playing? With everyone?”

Sander smiled, but his voice was serious. “Yeah. I always looked forward to it. You guys were my first real friends in Antwerp.”

“Those were some of my favorite nights,” Robbe admitted, remembering. “And I guess...I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Sander said. “What?” 

Robbe already regretted mentioning anything. This conversation could only end in humiliation, and Sander would likely never talk to him again. 

But Sander was looking at him, waiting with a clear sense of eagerness, almost appearing to read Robbe’s mind. 

“I just…” Robbe hesitated. He felt so stupid.

Sander stopped now, grabbing Robbe’s arm. “What, Robbe? You can ask me anything”

Robbe took a deep breath, trying to meet Sander’s gaze. He felt his hands shaking slightly.

“Well, I was just wondering if you remember...us hiding together. In that coat closet in your upstairs hall?”

Sander looked down, his mouth widening in a shy smile.

“A coat closet,” he said quietly. “Yeah, yeah, I think I do remember that. Why?”

“Did you...did we…” Robbe struggled, trying to speak with a level voice.

“Kiss?” Sander said suddenly, looking up at Robbe. He was biting his lip, hiding a smile.

“Yeah,” said Robbe, exhaling in relief now that it was spoken out loud, settling in the space between them. “When we were talking, I had this suddenly clear memory of that moment...and I was just wondering...if I had imagined it.”

“For so long after that moment I thought it was a dream,” Sander said, laughing. “Especially since I was too much of a scaredy-cat to bring it up to you again. I don’t even know how I had the guts to do it in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Robbe asked.

“Seriously, Robbe?” Sander said, eyes widening as he laughed. “You had to know that I had the biggest crush on you back then?”

Robbe’s stomach dropped, attempting to configure Sander’s words in his mind in a way that made sense.

“Well, clearly by the look on your face,” Sander said, smiling again, “you had no idea. Which is actually hilarious because I was not subtle about it.”

“You’re joking, Sander…” Robbe said, finally able to speak.

Sander turned his whole body to Robbe, face serious now. In a gentleness that didn’t match his firm stare, he spoke. 

“I always liked you Robbe,” Sander said. “It wasn’t long after we came out of that closet that I...came out of the closet.” He smiled briefly at his joke before continuing. 

Robbe could barely keep his jaw from dropping. Even if he hadn’t imagined their adolescent kiss, he was sure he had to be imagining this now.

“Yeah, I was obviously scared you didn’t reciprocate my feelings, so I didn’t dare to bring it up. Even when I thought you might….like me back….you were so close with Jens that it made me insanely jealous. I knew he was your best friend and I figured before long you two would realize your feelings for each other. I couldn’t stand it.” Sander smiled weakly to himself, kicking some sand at his feet. Robbe could’ve sworn there was a light blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I’ve always wanted you, Robbe.”

Robbe couldn’t speak and it was a moment before Sander spoke up again, suddenly grabbing his arm.

“But hey, look,” he said, firmly now. “Please don’t think you have to say anything. Honestly, we have to bring this up again. You’ll always be my friend no matter what. And I hate...that we haven’t been able to spend time together lately. ….Hopefully now you still want to!” He laughed, but there was a strain in his voice. A nervousness. Vulnerability. 

Robbe just looked at him.

“Robbe,” Sander said again. “Damnit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so stupid. Please just forget it.”

He turned to start walking back up the beach, but Robbe grabbed his arm before he could escape the closeness.

“I don’t want to forget it, Sander,” he said, his voice only capable of a near-whisper. 

“What?” Sander said, turning back to him and closing the distance. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Robbe said, louder now, “that I don’t want to forget it. Our kiss...or this conversation.”

Taking a deep breath, he pulled Sander closer, intertwining their fingers together. Sander’s eyebrows rose, but only for a second before he squeezed his palm to Robbe’s. 

“Do you know how long I’ve liked you Sander?” Robbe said, hoping he could finsh before his nerves gave out. “I’ll tell you it was long before that closet.”

Sander laughed, his eyes looking wide and misty as Robbe stared deep into them. “Are you messing me, Robin?”

“Oh,” Robbe groaned, extracting his hands from Sander’s to cover his face in embarrassment. “Only you call me that and I wish you wouldn’t.” 

He felt Sander’s breath against his hands as Sander gently pulled his hands away and replaced the touch with his palms cupped against his cheeks. 

“You’re my Robin,” Sander whispered, ever closer now. “Should we go find another closet, or…?” 

“I’m not going back into the closet,” Robbe said, laughing. “But I will take that kiss, if you’re offering. You know, as a second birthday gift. I mean, I haven’t forgotten that you still owe me a real one.”

“Oh, I’m definitely offering a kiss,” Sander said, laughing. “I’m offering on your birthday. And the day after your birthday, and the day after that.” Then, Sander was kissing him. 

And even if that first kiss had been a dream, Robbe couldn’t have dreamt a kiss as good as this one. Lips and breath fitting together, Sander pulled Robbe closer, tangling his hands into his hair, losing himself completely in him.

“Aaaaand the day after that,” Sander said, following his words with another kiss before pulling away. 

“And the day after that.” Robbe’s eyes fluttered, whining at Sander’s teasing. “That okay with you, Robin?”

“That’s okay with me.” He smiled into Sander’s next kiss.