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When Carrie chooses Alex to stand in for Dirty Candy’s only male dancer, he gets so excited and anxious that he has to go take deep breaths in the bathroom for at least five minutes.
Dirty Candy is just so prestigious, is the thing, they’re so well-known and their shows get hundreds of people showing up and they think he’s a good enough dancer to replace Willie Covington?
“Of course you are, Alex,” Julie says when he tells her the news. “You auditioned, you practiced, you put in the work, and they appreciated it. You wouldn’t have made it if they didn’t know that you’ve got what it takes.”
“But what if I don’t?” Alex asks, worrying at the hem of his sleeve.
“Alex.” Julie takes his hands and makes him look her in the eye. “You play the drums for us on stage in front of huge audiences all the time, and you rock it. What’s so different about this?”
I’m not part of the background for once, Alex thinks, but doesn’t say. I’ve got someone to live up to, and unlike him, I haven’t been in dance lessons since I was five.
“You’re right,” he says with a shaky smile. “How different can it be?”
The lights feel a lot brighter on Dirty Candy’s stage.
He sweats far more than usual, and he knows part of it is due to the exercise he’s getting, but a lot of it is because of his nerves. He powers through it, though, used to putting on a smile and forcing himself onstage when he’s so nervous he could puke.
The show goes well. He makes a few mistakes despite the hours of rehearsal, but he recovers from them smoothly, and that counts more than the actual slip-up. When it’s over, he’s swarmed by the girls and included without hesitation in their post-show group hug backstage. He grins and sinks into their embrace. Even though it was just a one-time thing, it was still one of the most fun experiences of his life, and he’s reluctant to let that energy go.
So of course, Carrie brings him onto Dirty Candy full-time. Alex has to go have another bathroom deep breathing session when he gets the text.
Filling in for someone temporarily was one thing, but full-time? They’ll have to redo all their choreography to fit an extra person in, and they’ll have to get him a whole costume, and he’ll have to rearrange his schedule to fit in Dirty Candy rehearsals around band practice, but Carrie won’t have it when he tries to convince her to reconsider.
You’re good, Alex, her texts read. Dirty Candy level good. You know I don’t say that lightly.
She’s right. He knows she doesn’t.
So, he goes to his first official Dirty Candy rehearsal with his mom’s best cookies, hoping the peace offering won’t be necessary.
He’s welcomed readily, and he’s familiar enough with the girls that he’s comfortable saying hello to everyone, even though his heart is still hammering in his chest. When he offers the cookies, his peacemaking plan almost screeches to a halt when Carrie arches an eyebrow at him and says, “You know cookies aren’t in our diet, right?” He freezes.
“Aw, come on, Carrie,” Lacey says. Alex is still thrown off by her hair being red instead of blue.
“We can have one cheat day!” Maisy adds.
“Did you make these yourself?” Nina asks from his other side.
Alex nods. “They’re my mom’s recipe.”
“Fine,” Carrie concedes, picking one up and taking a dainty bite. “Everyone can have one cookie, and then we’re starting rehearsal.”
The girls grumble, but quickly swarm him, leaving him four cookies lighter. Alex almost forgets about the one person he has yet to meet: the person he replaced, Willie Covington.
The son of Caleb Covington, owner of the most popular club in Hollywood, is… well-known, to say the least. Alex has never talked to him, but he’s always admired him from afar, watching his performances with awe and envy.
“H-Hi!” Alex says, extending a cookie with a shaky hand. “It’s so great to finally meet you, I love your wor—”
The other boy swipes the cookie out of Alex’s hand with narrowed eyes. “You’re not replacing me,” he hisses.
“I — I know?” Alex says, wrong-footed by this sudden antagonism. “I didn’t think I was.”
Willie eyes him warily. “Good.” He shifts his gaze to the cookie he’s holding.
“It’s a monster cookie,” Alex offers nervously. “Oatmeal chocolate chip M&M walnut cookies. It’s a thing my family does.” Oh god, what if that’s his least favorite flavor in the world? What if he hates it with a burning passion and then hates Alex too?
Willie takes a bite. Alex watches him chew.
“Not bad,” Willie allows begrudgingly. He puts the cookie back on the plate. “But not the best thing to eat right before working out.”
Alex wilts. Fuck, he really didn’t think this through, did he?
“Everyone on the floor for warm-ups!” Carrie shouts, and Alex hurriedly puts down his plate of cookies and follows Willie to the center of the dance floor. They’re all perfectly aligned in two rows of three — clearly, something they’ve done for so long that it’s just instinct — and Willie shoots him a disgruntled look when Carrie makes their row all move over one to fit Alex. He just tries to ignore him and follow along as best he can with warm-ups. He’s not a stranger to the routine, since they did the same ones the week he stood in for Willie, but he’s not accustomed to them yet, still getting tripped up when the pattern changes or there’s a tricky movement.
Soon enough, they move on to “Wow” and begin reworking it to fit a seventh person. Alex feels kind of guilty about it — his mere presence creates so much more work for everyone else, making them relearn their choreography and blocking and get used to doing the ripple on a different count, which messes everyone up. Alex already knew some of the choreography, but it’s different performing it with the whole group. He can’t imagine how it’ll feel onstage in full costume.
Speaking of costumes, Carrie holds them all up at the end of practice when they’ve all retreated to their water bottles.
“Before we all leave, I just wanted to formally welcome our new Candy,” she says, gesturing to Alex. “You know we’ve all got our own signature colors. Pink, purple, orange, yellow, blue, and green. So today, we’re adding…” She takes out a shiny folded fabric from her bag and hands it to him. “Silver.”
Alex stares down at the sparkly silver shirt and pants, complete with a translucent jacket with the Dirty Candy logo on the back.
Now it feels real.
“I…” He looks up at Carrie, eyes tearing up. “Thank you.”
“Glad to have you with us, Silver Candy,” she replies with a rare, genuine smile. She leans in and lowers her voice to a faux whisper. “We’ll talk about the wig later.”
His eyes widen. “The wig?”
Her smile turns into an evil smirk. “You didn’t think you would avoid that, did you?”
“You can’t just, like, use that temporary hair dye spray?” Alex asks frantically. She doesn’t respond. “Carrie?”
“You get used to it,” Kayla reassures him, patting his arm.
Yeah, Alex guesses he will.
-
It’s been a month since Alex joined Dirty Candy, and Willie still hates him.
Alex still isn’t really sure what he did wrong.
They’ve had a few Dirty Candy bonding sessions (read: hanging out before or after practice), and Willie gives him the cold shoulder every time, even though the whole point of bonding sessions is to, well, bond. It’s a real bummer, because Alex has found that he actually really likes hanging out with the group. Carrie’s acerbic tongue is matched by Kayla’s quick wit and mellowed out with Lacey’s giggly humor, and Nina’s dependable nature and Maisy’s fun yet responsible attitude fill out the rest of the group, and Alex can’t even tell where Willie fits in their dynamic because every time he hangs out with them, he clams up and doesn’t interact, clearly uncomfortable being open around Alex.
Alex doesn’t know what to do about it except keep hanging out with them and hope Willie softens up. He has two rules for himself: One, be as nice as he can around Willie to show him that he’s not evil (or whatever he thinks is wrong with him); and two, never be alone with Willie, because there’s absolutely no way it will end well.
So of course, he ends up trapped in the locker room with him.
Alex tries the door, but it doesn’t budge.
“There’s no use,” Willie tells him, tired from the grueling practice they just had. They had been working on the floor stuff today, and Carrie kept making them repeat one part over and over. Alex never wants to do another burpee in his life. “That door gets jammed a lot. We can’t open it.”
Alex groans. “Ugh, okay. Can you text the girls? My phone’s dead.” Usually, Alex is more put together than this. But last night he forgot to charge his phone, kept awake by anxiety over their upcoming show, and then he woke up late and his parents herded him out the door before he could remember to bring a phone charger, and none of his friends were as prepared as he was. (Except Bobby, but he only had Apple chargers. Lame.)
Willie nods and takes out his phone, only to pause and rest his head against a nearby locker in defeat. “My phone just died.”
“Dude.” Alex can’t believe this shit. “Do you have a phone charger?”
“No,” Willie mutters. “I forgot.”
“So we’re stuck in here until they realize we haven’t come out yet,” Alex realizes. “Shit.”
They sit on opposite sides of the room, leaning against the lockers and avoiding eye contact. Willie pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them as he stares gloomily at the locked door. “You said the door gets jammed a lot,” Alex says, breaking the silence. “Have you gotten stuck in here before?”
Willie shrugs. “Once or twice.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot.”
“I didn’t really use this locker room a lot,” Willie explains. Alex’s brows furrow.
“You didn’t change for practice at all?”
“No, I did.” Willie runs his hand back and forth along his upper arm. Alex tries not to fixate on the movement. “I just mostly did it in the girl’s locker room.”
Alex blinks. “But… you’re not a girl?”
“I’m not a guy either,” Willie retorts sharply.
“Oh,” Alex says. “You’re not?”
“I’m genderqueer,” Willie tells him.
Alex nods, taking it in. “What pronouns do you use?”
“He/they.” Willie seems to relax a little at Alex’s easy acceptance.
“Cool,” Alex says. “I’m sorry for assuming, I just… I don’t know. I never thought to ask.”
“What, the long hair and dancing didn’t tip you off?” Willie says dryly.
“I mean, I know it annoys me when people think I’m gay just because my favorite color’s pink and I like dancing, so I wasn’t gonna do that to you,” Alex says, then realizes how that might sound to someone who doesn’t know him well. “I mean, I am gay! I’m very gay. But because I think men are hot, not because I like pink.”
Willie smiles a little at that — the first smile Alex has been able to get from them. “You’re wired a little tight, huh?” They shift, laying one leg on the floor so they’re just hugging one knee. “Is that why you started dancing? To help with that?”
Alex shrugs. It’s a little disconcerting for Willie to actually show interest in his life, but he’s not gonna turn away the olive branch. “Yeah, kind of. I started playing the drums first, actually. I’m in a band with my friends,” he explains. “But then my little sister wanted to go to dance classes, and my parents wanted to get me out of the house, so I went with her. And now I’m in a dance group.”
“Your parents must be proud,” Willie says. Alex can’t read his tone.
“Not really,” he confesses. “It’s a little too… girly for their taste.” He casts around for a subject change, not really wanting to talk about his parents’ homophobia with someone who barely likes him. “How about you? Your dad’s all about dance, he must be super proud you’re so good.”
Willie scoffs. “Not as proud as he would be if I were performing in his club.”
“You’re still really talented, though, even if you’re not doing it how your dad wants.” Alex isn’t sure how Willie will take a compliment from him, but what else can he say?
“Thanks,” Willie says. They fiddle with the hem of their shirt. “You’re pretty good too.”
Alex stares, stunned at a compliment from Willie Covington, Alex Mercer’s self-declared enemy. “I — um — thanks.”
Willie huffs a short laugh, and man, Alex is on a roll today. “You don’t have to act so surprised. You wouldn’t have made it on the team if you weren’t good.”
“Yeah, but I thought you hated me,” Alex blurts, and then snaps his mouth shut.
Willie blinks. “I don’t hate you.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to pretend, Willie. The first thing you said to me was literally a threat.”
“I never threatened you!” Willie cries indignantly.
“Well, it sure felt like it!”
“I was jealous!”
The room falls silent after Willie’s confession.
Alex is having a hard time making sense of it. Willie Covington, son of the most famous (and lucrative) club owner in Hollywood, was jealous of him?
“I thought you were gonna replace me,” Willie explains. “Permanently.” They swallow, avoiding Alex’s gaze. “My dad’s been pressuring me more and more to quit Dirty Candy and join his club, that was the whole reason I had to miss that performance, and I saw a video of it, and you looked so good. Like you belonged.” He stares down at the floor. “They even gave you my costume.”
“Willie…” Alex would try to scoot closer and hold his hand if they were actually friends. As it is, he just curls his fingers into each other in his lap. “I would never try to replace you. Carrie wouldn’t try to replace you. Haven’t you been best friends your whole life?”
“That’s just because our dads are friends and we kept running into each other at rich people parties,” Willie mutters. “That’s the only reason she invited me to Dirty Candy in the first place.”
“That’s not true,” Alex says firmly. “There’s no way she would’ve invited you if you didn’t have the skill to back it up.”
“And I’m only so good at dancing because my dad forced me into classes so I could make him look good,” Willie says bitterly.
“Wha— Don’t you love dancing?” Alex says, taken aback. Everytime he sees Willie dance, he’s starstruck all over again by the way they move, so graceful and deliberate. It’s obvious that they care a lot about the art of it — it’s evident in every movement they make, the way they concentrate so hard on stage, the way they rehearse for hours until they’re perfect. Although… Alex is starting to think that last part might not be their own idea.
“I do,” Willie admits. “It’s just… been harder to enjoy lately.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex says. They sit there in the awkward silence, but it’s not as uncomfortable as before. It’s nice to get confirmation that Willie doesn’t hate him, at least. Maybe now Willie will even let them be friends?
“What if we danced?” Alex says.
“Right now?” Willie looks around. “There’s no music.”
“We can make our own,” Alex says, warming up to his own idea. He stands up and holds a hand out to Willie. “Come on.”
Willie looks at his hand for a moment before grabbing it and pulling themself up. “So, what are we dancing to?”
Alex grins and starts singing. “You’re insecure, don’t know what for. You’re turning heads when you walk in the doo-o-or.”
“This feels a little too topical,” Willie says, but goes along with it anyway. “I didn’t know you were a One Direction fan.” He lets go of Alex’s hand when they start to dance, and Alex tries not to miss the warmth.
“Who wasn’t?” Alex briefly pauses singing to answer, and Willie laughs in agreement.
“Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you, ooh.”
“Baby, you light up my world like nobody else!” Willie belts, and Alex’s eyes widen. He didn’t know Willie was actually a good singer! Singing, dancing, looking good… what is there that Willie can’t do?
Alex manages to recover, singing the rest of the chorus with Willie as they dance around. If anyone could see them, they likely wouldn’t believe that they’re professional-level dancers, because Alex is making an effort to do as silly a dance as he can to try to cheer Willie up, and Willie keeps mimicking him, so he might even be succeeding.
Alex laughs as they go into the second verse and chorus, both of them flailing around. By the bridge, he’s laughing too hard to sing anymore, and Willie’s the one who keeps it going with the “na na na-na”s. They urge Alex to keep singing, dancing around with him and taking his hands and doing stupid twirls under his arm, and Alex can’t keep his eyes off their messy hair and their exhilarated smile and their stupidly handsome face, and —
Oh.
Oh no.
“You don’t know-oh-oh! You don’t know you’re beautiful!”
Maybe Alex should’ve picked a different song, because he means this one far more than he meant to.
Right after Alex has his realization, when Willie is flipping their gorgeous hair all over the place and Alex has become too overwhelmed to function, the door opens.
They turn to see the girls in the doorway, Carrie heading the pack, her arms crossed. She observes the scene with an arched eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“And why didn’t you text us?” Kayla adds.
“We’re dancing,” Willie says, like it’s obvious.
“And our phones died,” Alex explains.
“Okay, well, are you coming to Teas & Bees or not?” Carrie asks. Alex looks to Willie.
“Yeah,” Willie answers easily. “Speaking of, any of you guys got a phone charger?”
Maisy reaches into her bag and hands him one with every adapter imaginable.
“Have you had that this whole time?” Alex asks, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“I would have let you use it if you told us you needed to,” she replies with a laugh.
“Yeah,” Willie says, rubbing the back of their neck. “Well. I’m stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Willie,” Carrie says. “Just forgetful. Now come on, you know there’s always an after-school rush.”
“Okay, okay,” Willie mutters fondly, taking their bag and going to the door. They pause and look back to Alex. “Alex?”
Alex doesn’t miss the look of surprise on Carrie’s face when they actually acknowledge him. “I’ll be right there, just give me a second, I’ve gotta —” He gestures vaguely to his bag, hoping that’s a believable enough excuse. It seems to work, because they all file out. Willie stops before leaving and kicks a forgotten doorstop into place.
“So you don’t get locked in again,” he says with a wink, and lets the door fall shut.
Alex falls back against the lockers, a gust of air escaping his lungs. “Fuck.” He slides down to the floor, not even caring about how dirty it is like he usually would. He rests his head back against the wall. “Fuck.”
Of all things to do, getting a crush on the person who only just stopped hating him might be one of the stupidest.
His friends are never going to let him live this down.
-
“You what?” Luke squawks.
“I know,” Alex groans.
“Alex. My man. My guy. My dude,” Reggie says. “Even I know this was not your best move.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Alex cries. “He’s just so —”
“We know, he’s so pretty and his hair is so long and he’s such a good dancer,” Flynn recites. Alex flushes. He hadn’t talked about them that much, had he?
“Don’t forget his singing voice,” Luke adds. “And his cheekbones.”
“And his hair!” Reggie chimes in.
“We already said his hair!”
Alex’s head thunks down onto the table. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die and it’s gonna be your fault.”
He hears soft laughter, then light hands on his shoulder. “We’re just teasing you, Alex. We’re glad you found someone who makes you happy,” Julie says.
Alex raises his head to look at her. “Thanks, Jules.”
“You said he doesn’t hate you anymore, right?” Reggie asks. “So maybe you actually have a shot.”
Alex hasn’t even thought that far ahead. He’s mostly been preoccupied with thoughts of Willie’s laugh and his hands and his lips, and he’s gotta cut that thought off right there while he’s surrounded by nosy friends. “I don’t know, Reg,” he says. “What if it makes things weird with the team?”
“Carrie’s been having you do all those bonding exercises, right?” Luke asks. Alex nods. “What’s this but a little more bonding?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Come on.”
“You can still bond with him,” Reggie offers. “At the very least, you guys can be actual friends. You don’t have to date him.”
“Yeah,” Alex says, his mind swimming with possibilities. “I think… I think we could be friends.”
His friends cheer. “Hell yeah! Friendship!”
“Now all you have to do is resist the constant urge to kiss him!” Luke says. Alex glares daggers at him.
“Not helping.”
“It’s true, though,” Luke wheedles with a shit-eating grin.
“Not helping,” Alex repeats.
“And it’s easy to not do that!” Reggie says. “I resist the urge to kiss people all the time!”
Everyone stops talking and stares at Reggie, who blushes under the attention. “Um. People are pretty?” he explains weakly.
“Which people?” Luke immediately asks, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief that everyone’s effectively been distracted from his predicament. Besides, it’s way more fun to tease Reggie than think about his crush.
Way less heartbreaking, too.
-
Alex’s first performance as a permanent member of Dirty Candy is coming up fast, and he’s absolutely unprepared.
Well, he’s prepared dance-wise. Carrie had made sure of that. That was part of the reason that his first performance wasn’t sooner — she had pushed back all of their gigs to make sure that they had enough time to practice with their new member.
It’s the last practice before the performance, and everyone’s in super focused-dance mode, intent on perfecting their routine.
Well, everyone except Alex.
He’s too distracted by Willie being so good at everything they do, and it’s honestly unfair that as the two non-girls and therefore the tallest ones, they get paired up so much, because it forces Alex to stare even more at their arms and their hair and the way their t-shirt falls across their collarbone, and it’s all in such close proximity that it’s a wonder Willie hasn’t noticed yet.
They haven’t put their hair up today, leaving it falling across their shoulders where usually it’s tucked into a bun. Both look great on him (as everything does), and Alex definitely appreciates the view, especially the way it flares out as he spins. He does notice it getting into his eyes, though, and he keeps having to brush it out of the way.
So on their next water break, Alex approaches them nervously.
“Hey, Willie,” he starts.
They look up from their water bottle, face flushed and lively, and he almost loses his nerve and train of thought.
“You were doing great on that spin in the bridge, like, um, you’ve got the timing down to a science with really good form. And, um, it looks really pr— um, cool when your hair, like, spins out too, but it looked like it was getting in your eyes? A little? Just something I noticed.”
Willie looks more and more bemused as Alex rambles on, but at least they don’t look annoyed like they would’ve a few weeks ago.
“So, um, do you want a hair tie?” He digs around in his fanny pack and holds out one of the extra scrunchies he keeps for Julie, but he doesn’t think she’ll mind. (She actually bought this one for him when they had seen a pack of them with a sparkly silver one at the store, insisting that he needed to “keep up with his brand” as the silver candy. Alex didn’t complain. The pack also came with a sparkly pink one.)
Willie looks at him for a moment, a slight smile on their lips. “Sure, hotdog.” He takes the silver scrunchie and puts his hair up in a poofy bun, and Alex definitely isn’t watching his biceps flex as he does. He would never. (He does. All the time. It’s a problem.)
“Great,” Alex says dumbly, then processes what Willie actually said. “Wait, hotdog?”
Willie gestures to his feet, and Alex suddenly remembers what socks he’s wearing today. “Hotdog socks?” Willie says, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were such a man of taste.”
“They’re a gag gift from my friend Reggie, he works at a hotdog place and gets lots of free merch. He got Luke a shirt that says ‘Who needs a hot bod when you have a hot dog?’ and he was so offended, he immediately had to vandalize it. I’m just wearing these because it’s laundry day,” Alex rushes to explain.
“Chill, hotdog,” Willie says, and oh, the nickname’s sticking. Alex would be more annoyed about it if getting a nickname from Willie didn’t make his heart flutter. “They’re cool socks. Almost as good as mine.” He pulls up his pants to show Alex his Hot Wheels-esque flame socks. “Your friends sound fun.”
“Y-yeah, they are,” Alex says. “A little chaotic, but. They’re great.”
“You should introduce us sometime,” Willie says casually. Oh god. Alex doesn’t even want to imagine what they would do if they actually met Willie.
“Maybe,” he chokes out, and then Carrie’s yelling for them to get back to practice, and Alex is back to watching Willie dance, except this time, every time he catches a glimpse of the silver scrunchie in their hair, he has to fight a smile.
-
On the day of the performance, Alex’s nerves are strung so tight that he’s a little worried he won’t be flexible enough for the dance. His friends are coming to support him, which he’s certainly grateful for, but it’s not enough to offset the nerves from being onstage. He’s a little comforted by the fact that technically, he’s done it once before, but Willie hadn’t been onstage with him that time! It’s different. What if he catches a glimpse at him and trips over his own feet?
It hasn’t happened in practice, sure, but who knows? Maybe the stage will be slippery.
It’s a dance performance. The stage won’t be slippery.
God, Alex needs to get out of his head. He finds the girls and starts getting into costume a little early — when he’s focusing on makeup, something he has very little experience with, he doesn’t have any room to worry about the performance.
Soon enough, he’s waiting in the wings, the music’s starting, and the lights are up. Showtime.
When it’s finally over, after they hit their last note and strike their last pose and the lights go down, they all shuffle backstage. Usually, Alex is ready to rest for a couple hours after a show with his band, and he should only be more tired, considering all the running around onstage, but he’s buzzing with adrenaline, still riding the high of his first official Dirty Candy performance.
Once they’re all backstage, Kayla corrals them all into a group hug, and they do a short group cheer to celebrate their successful performance. The group then breaks and they all trickle off to the greenroom, some of them splitting off to hit the bathroom or water fountain.
Alex makes his way through the winding hallways to the greenroom, looking forward to changing out of his costume. Carrie hadn’t made him get a wig with long hair, thank god, but she still made him wear a wig, and Alex never knew how sweaty those things got. He’s not super happy to have found out first-hand, but he guesses that’s an occupational hazard of being in Dirty Candy. It’s a small price to pay for everything else that comes with it.
“Hey, wait up, hotdog!” Alex slows down and turns to face what can only be Willie, only to be met with their warm body barreling into him. They wrap their arms around him, Alex following suit, because what else is he supposed to do when they’re closer to him than they’ve ever been and holding him so tightly? He can smell the sweat on their skin and the green apple scent of their shampoo as he buries his face in their hair.
“You were great out there, Alex,” Willie murmurs into the crook of his neck. Alex has never been more grateful for their height difference. “I’m really glad you joined the team.”
“Willie…” Alex whispers. It’s like they’re pulling on his heartstrings, saying exactly the right things to make him ache. He pulls away so they can face each other. Willie’s still wearing that stupid green wig, and it’s not cut any different than his actual hair, but Alex still misses it. If it weren’t secured with a million bobby pins, he would rip it right off. It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s grinning, exhilaration clear in every line of his face, makeup streaked with sweat.
Alex doesn’t know what he looks like right now, but it must be similar. He’s just as sweaty and tired, but he’s sure that the happiness shining from his eyes matches Willie. He just can’t help but smile back when they’re looking at him like that.
He rakes his eyes over Willie’s face, taking in every detail: the crinkled laugh lines at the corner of their eyes, the stray hairs sneaking out from the edge of their wig, the freckles at the corner of their mouth.
He’s the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen, and he just can’t help himself anymore. What else is he supposed to do when they’re looking at him like that?
“Willie,” Alex says again, and sweeps him up into a kiss.
They don’t respond for a moment, clearly surprised at the sudden kiss, but they quickly reciprocate, wrapping their arms around Alex’s neck as their lips move together. Alex pours all of his love for him into the kiss, feeling kind of crazy for it. Never in a million years did he expect to actually know how Willie’s lips taste, but now he knows the chalky taste of lipstick and the mints Willie must have eaten before the show. It’s better than anything he could have imagined, because it’s real, it’s Willie, it’s requited, and oh god it might not be, he didn’t talk about it or even ask for consent before he acted on impulse, oh god —
Alex breaks the kiss and gasps for air, staring wide-eyed at Willie, his green lipstick smeared. “Oh my god,” he breathes. “I just kissed you.”
“You sure did,” hums Willie happily. “You wanna do it again?”
“You — You liked it?” Alex stutters.
Willie laughs gently. “Did you miss the part where I kissed back?”
“Well no, I just — You know, you started off hating me, and we’re friends now, but I never meant to get a crush on you, except then I did, and I was so sure you’d never like me back, even if you never really hated me, it’s still just — wow,” Alex finishes, and finds Willie looking at him with a fond smile that melts his insides. No one’s ever looked at him like that before.
“You talk a lot, huh,” Willie notes, eyes dancing, and then leans in and kisses him again, and — yeah. Alex can get used to this.
They don’t make it back to the greenroom until way after everyone else has left. They don’t mind.
Alex knows there’s going to be lots of teasing from his friends, especially once he introduces them to his new boyfriend (!!!), but it’s alright. Any amount of teasing is worth the full force of Willie’s smile, the feeling of his hand in his, the way he looks when he dances, the sensation of their bodies wrapped together on the shitty greenroom couch, neither of them wanting to move apart for even a moment.
Alex knows they’re going to have to separate eventually. They’re going to have to clean up and change and meet up with everyone else for post-show pizza, but for now, it’s just him and Willie.
And he’s never been happier.