Chapter Text
Zaterdag. 22:45.
Jana’s eyes were wide open, staring at him in shock, her index firmly pressed against her own lips in a way to tell him to keep quiet.
“I think it’s too la-...,” Jens started, only to have a hand slap itself against his mouth violently, making him yelp.
There was only a second of silence before Robbe’s voice rose from the other side of the door.
“Yes, it is too late, Jens Stoffels, now get the hell out of my room,” his tone was firm, a bit annoyed, and Jens grimaced. “It better not be Jana with you, because I’ll kill the both of you.”
Jana mimicked Jens, her lips stretching in a cute grimace, and Jens’ eyes lingered for a second on her smudged lipstick, red all around her mouth- he was probably sporting those same marks of make-up on his neck.
“Well,” Jana said.
The two of them couldn’t help themselves from erupting in a small mess of giggles, trying to keep them as quiet as possible because, honestly, Robbe could kill them.
He did have all the reasons to: Jens and Jana hooking up in his bedroom was probably his worst nightmare. But, listen, the two teenagers were a bit tipsy, a bit horny, and the bathroom was occupied by Amber and Zoë, something about periods and girls’ things and what the hell do you want, Jens? Can’t you see the state she’s in? Don’t you have something else to do than to bother girls when - he stopped listening after that, and just dragged Jana away, towards Robbe’s bedroom.
But, yes. Robbe wasn’t stupid. Unlike Jens and Jana, apparently.
“You two disgust me,” the boy said when his two best friends got out of his room, Sander behind him with the same disgusted expression, although there was a spark of mischief hidden in there.
Jens grinned when he heard Jana giggle behind him.
“Oh, c’mon,” she had a teasing pout when Robbe grabbed Sander’s arm to tug him in his bedroom. “Like we don’t know that you two are going to do the same as us in there.”
Sander chuckled at her remark.
But Robbe was firm in his act, and he just frowned. “This is my room Jana, get back to your house if you wanna fuck Jens so bad.”
And then the door was closed, Robbe’s façade not cracking once until Jana and Jens were faced with the white door.
The girl turned to him. “Should we?”
Jens was tempted to say yes.
Honestly, this New Year’s party was a tad lame; it was a regular house party, the usual crew mixed with lots of strangers, a few puking, a few grinding obscenely in the living room, a few girls getting angry at the fact Zoë and Amber were still in the bathroom, but that was it. Jens had came here with the hope of finding someone to sleep with, to be completely honest. Or at least make-out. Even flirt. Just something: he wanted something fresh, something new, that cute girl with her lip piercing from bio class, or a stranger, a pretty blonde from Brussel, a number that would get lost in his phone with a good memory of lips, a black bra and a strawberry perfume.
He wanted all of that, and so he drank, danced, hung out with Moyo, with Luca, with Senne, even, knowing how much the fuckboy could gather girls left and right by just existing.
And then, Jana. With a skirt just too short, eyeshadow just too dark, but still there, slurring in his ears and reminding him of that one good time in your bathroom, you remember?
So, yes, Jana.
Just behind him, asking him to go home with her, to end up in her bed, to start the New Year as it always started, with a kiss between them- they shouldn’t. They’re not together anymore.
“We shouldn’t,” Jens replied to her, his eyes following down the slope of her arms. Her smile wore off her face, and the boy took one step forwards, bringing their bodies much closer- he almost sighed. “Meet me in front of the door in 5.”
*+*+*
Zaterdag. 22:50.
“Ah, Jens, good,” someone called for him, too loudly, and then he was pulled with a rather impressive strength, stumbling as the hand dragged him down on the couch.
He was a bit startled, looking up to find Milan with the biggest grin on his mouth. “Uh?”
Milan chuckled, and someone else chuckled as well, just next to him.
“Hi, I’m Ralph,” the stranger said, blue eyes staring at him, speaking in an accent that immediately ticked Jens.
“Uhm,” the younger of the three was a bit lost at what was happening. “Hello. Jens,” he nodded towards him, eyes trailing down Ralph’s bleached hair and trimmed beard. “What’s up?”, he turned towards Milan, now, because he honestly didn’t have time to meet strangers when he was supposed to gather his stuff, let Aaron know he was leaving and meet Jana at the front door- all of this in 5 minutes.
“Ah,” Milan passed his hand through his curly hair, and Jens didn’t fail to notice the way Ralph eyed the movement-
Okay. So that was what was happening here.
“Ralph is from Utrecht, and he came with a couple of friends, but one of them is making out with a girl,” he pointed to a girl in the corner of the room, smaller, a bit chubby, short curly hair in a mess and lips stuck to another girl’s mouth. “And the other is-...well.”
Both Ralph and Milan waved in the opposite direction, and Jens turned around, eyes catching sight of the other stranger easily and, wow, okay, he seemed to be having the time of his life, sitting down on a chair and reading a book.
Reading a book. At a party. Right next to Moyo and Kato sucking face.
How sad.
“Oh,” Jens twisted his face in a frown, and Milan nodded.
“Exactly,” he seemed enthusiastic, and Jens wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what idea was cooking in his brain. “I wanted to ask Robbe, but he basically cussed me out because he wanted to go have hot gay sex,” he sighed, and very non-subtly side-eyed Ralph. “So I’m asking you.”
And contrary to popular belief, Jens wasn’t that dumb, so he shook his head as soon as Milan was done talking.
“No. I’m not babysitting this random dude.”
Not when Jana was about to bring him home, for fuck’s sake. And not just so Milan could get his dick wet- fuck him.
“Jens,” Ralph leaned forwards, eyes too friendly. “He’s extremely nice. And he smells good.”
“Okay?”, Jens scoffed. “It doesn’t-...”
“Jana told me about that time at that Chiro party in august,” Milan was quick to cut him off, and Jens closed his mouth right away, way too familiar about that subject. “About the bathtub, and the cigarette-...”
And, yeah, fuck, Jana was going to pay for this. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, eyes finding the stranger back again. “Okay, whatever.”
He didn’t really have a choice anyway, did he?
*+*+*
Zaterdag. 22:58.
“Hey,” he said, staring intensely at the stranger, whose head was hanging low to focus on the book. Jens couldn’t see much of him, only a mess of curly hair and a gray hoodie hugging his thin frame. The boy didn’t even move at his greeting, and so Jens tried again, louder. “Hey?”
This time, the stranger heard him, judging by his startle, head immediately lifting up to glance at him, and-
Oh. His eyes were blue. And pretty. Even surprised, even timid, wide open and staring at him like some kind of ghost, his eyes were still captivating.
And, yeah. Moles. Freckles. Whatever that was, all over his face, right until the top of his lip.
“Hello,” the stranger replied, cautious, and Jens noticed he didn’t even know his name. “Uh-...I’m here with Ralph,” he waved in the direction of the couch, but the two older men weren’t even there anymore, gone with the wind, and so the boy bit down on his lower lip. “I…I’m sorry, if I wasn’t allowed to,” he pointed towards the book this time, clearly uncomfortable, thinking he was getting scolded, and Jens decided to end his suffering.
“I’m Jens,” he extended his hand, scolding himself for it just as he did it: it was way too formal for a party, but hey, the stranger took it instantly, a slight flush to his cheeks.
His hair was cute. Light and curly, falling in his eyes in small waves, almost hiding his eyebrows. At least, they weren’t hiding his eyes.
“Lucas,” the boy replied, fingers lingering on his book, still open on the table.
Fuck, he was such a nerd, reading at a party.
“What’s gotten you all interested so much just one hour before New Year?”, he pointed his chin towards the book, dropping himself in the chair next to him.
Lucas’ lips stretched into a small smile, barely there, enough to catch Jens’ attention.
“I don’t know,” his nose scrunched up, and Jens’ eyes followed the movement. “I don’t understand anything, it’s in Norwegian,” he followed the words of a sentence with carefree eyes. “Or maybe Danish. I don’t even know.”
Jens snorted; it was Norwegian, Zoë’s new hobby, because of this random show from 2017 she fell in love with. And Senne, being the rich lover boy he usually was, decided to buy her books and Duolingo premium and everything else, even though she was probably going to get bored of it all in about 2 months.
Still. Now, there were about 15 Norwegian books lingering around their place, barely touched by Zoë, and Lucas was holding one of them in his hands.
“There’s other books,” Jens pointed towards the big book shelf Robbe and his roommates invested in a few months ago. “In Dutch.”
Lucas shrugged. “I like a challenge.”
“Yeah?”, Jens teased, one eyebrow quirked up.
Lucas brought his hands under his chin, carefully folded one on top of another, and Jens couldn’t help but notice the silver ring, the long and elegant fingers- this dude was really pretty. Jens liked pretty people: he liked Jana, Zoë, Moyo, Senne. He liked observing pretty girls, admiring pretty boys.
And this dude was one of them. The really pretty ones. Almost captivating.
“Who doesn’t?”, Lucas was looking right at him, book forgotten on the table, the pages closing on themselves.
“Some people like easy things.”
The other hummed, fingers still supporting his head- there were even moles on his hands. God.
“I don’t,” he replied, gaze trailing down Jens’ face, enough to make him self-conscious about the lipstick smudge around his lips, around his messy hair. “Not necessarily.”
Jens nodded towards the practically closed book.
“Go ahead, then,” he watched as Lucas glanced at the book. “I won’t keep you any longer,” he teased, pretending to be getting up.
The curly-head was quick to shove the book away from him, throwing it further on the table.
“No, I mean-...It’s New Year,” he looked up at Jens, so blue, fuck- Jens didn’t even hesitate for a second before he plopped down on his chair again, a smirk on his face. “I can learn Norwegian another day.”
“Right,” Jens was a bit smug; this dude wanted to hang out with him-
There wasn't anything to be really proud about: Lucas had been alone for the past hour, probably, reading a book in a foreign language with teenagers partying around him, so he was probably anchoring himself at any person speaking to him, but Jens ignored that fact. It was good, sometimes, to be wanted.
“So, Lucas, tell me why your two friends are both making-out with people or-...or worse, and you’re here all alone and sad.”
He wanted to tease again, but Lucas frowned.
“My two friends?”, he turned to glance at his friend, the small girl shoved against the wall. “How do you know Isa is my friend?”
“I spoke with Ralph,” was Jens' answer, and Lucas immediately frowned deeper.
“This is just a pity thing, isn’t it?”, he waved between the two of them, a slight blush growing on his face, probably embarrassed, and Jens couldn’t let that pass.
He shook his hands in front of him quickly. “No! It’s-...Well, it was, but I mean, you’re interesting, and,” (pretty , his mind screamed, but he ignored it), “uh-...Funny. And I like a challenge, too.”
Lucas hummed, eyes lost behind Jens. “I’m not sure I like being referred to as a challenge,” he pouted a bit, lips jutted out. “But okay. Whatever. I’m a bit desperate for company anyway.”
“Yay,” Jens fake-celebrated, earning himself a playful glare from the other. “So…Tell me about this Isa.”
“Ah…I don’t know how we got here. Ralph is her best friend’s roommate, and I’m-...I’m Isa’s best friend too, in a way?”, he seemed unsure, and Jens was going to ask about it, but Lucas was speaking again before he could even open his mouth. “I don’t know why I followed Ralph up here, I barely even know him, but yeah,” his lips stretched into a somewhat shy smile, barely-there dimples forming in his cheeks.
This dude really had it all for him, didn’t he? Dimple, blue eyes, curly hair, moles and freckles and smooth skin, pink l-
Okay. This wasn’t the time for a deep facial examination.
Jens focused back on his words.
“Who wouldn’t want to come to Antwerpen?”, he shrugged one shoulder, and relished in the way Lucas giggled. “Hey! It sure is better than Utrecht.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Lucas rolled his eyes. “If I lived in Belgium, I would be delusioning myself too.”
And- oh. Jens gasped, but couldn’t help the chuckle that he let out.
Oh, this was so on.
“You speak a lot for someone whose country will barely exist in a few years.”
“This is so low,” Lucas shook his head in disbelief. “Using the climate crisis and a huge subject of political and emotional challenge in my country just because you’re so ashamed of being born belgian-...”
“Oh, please,” Jens erupted in laughter, barely containing his mockery, and Lucas seemed to be refraining himself from laughing too, trying to keep up his offended act. “Whatever you say, Dutch boy.”
The nickname made Lucas lose his cool, and he chuckled too, breathy and high-pitched. “Should I call you Belgian boy?”
“Nah,” Jens shook his head. “Dutch Boy sounds better. And-...You’re the one in Belgium. I can only be Belgian boy if I’m out of Belgium.”
Lucas snorted. “Whatever.”
The mood was settled, then: they were more relaxed, shoulders slumped against their seats, a hint of smile and amusement playing on their features.
There wasn’t any of the awkward first-meeting tension anymore: Jens was relieved.
He got bolder.
“So, Lucas-...Dutch boy, tell me why you were just happy to spend the night all alone in there, instead of having fun, or even flirting or making-out with someone.”
Jens glanced at the book, the colorful cover, all pink and purple, and then at Lucas.
He seemed to be thinking of what to say- eventually, he settled on; “I’m speaking with someone right now, aren’t I?”
“Uh, yeah. Because I pitied you.”
Lucas’ eyebrows lifted up in a surprised expression, and he scoffed when he saw the mischief on Jens’ face. “You’re a bully.”
“Am not!”
“Whatever you say, Belgian Boy,” he repeated his words from before, and Jens had to bite down on his lip to refrain himself from giving him a bright smile- he couldn’t let him win.
*+*+*
Zaterdag. 23:44.
They have been sitting there for long, probably too long: Jens’ ass was sore from the wooden chair, and people were getting drunk, high, sleepy, some were already puking. Ralph and Milan were still gone, same as Robbe and Sander, but Isa and that girl wouldn’t stop kissing, giggling between themselves between each kiss, lips red and Isa’s hair a mess.
His phone informed him that it was late, 23:44, and it was confirmed by all the people speaking around them, about the countdown, the New Year, about their boyfriend and girlfriend and whatsoever, asking where the fuck is he, I can’t not kiss anyone on New Year, Pieter, do you-
Jens could probably go look for Jana, if she wasn’t already kissing any other boy, but he wasn’t really in the mood, not with Lucas in front of him, clearly aware of what time it was as well.
Instead, he shoved a hand in his pocket, happy to find the non-crumpled joint he had put in there in hope to smoke it with Robbe, Aaron and Moyo.
But- well. Robbe was getting his brain fucked out, and the two others boys were MIA; and Lucas was there.
He bumped his foot against Lucas’s shoes, and extended his hand when the boy glanced at him.
“You smoke?”, he asked, already putting the joint between his lips.
Lucas eyed his mouth, before grimacing. “You’ll miss the final count,” he smiled shyly, a small crease forming in his chin.
“Ah, man. I don’t have anyone to spend it with anyway,” he said.
It wasn't exactly true: he could still try to find his friends. It wasn’t too late, or even Jana, to have a spicy make-out to celebrate the New Year with, but he also knew Lucas was here alone, nobody to celebrate with, not with Ralph in Milan’s room, not with Isa still making out with the other girl.
“And I’m too young to give it that much importance, aren’t I?”, he added.
Lucas shrugged. The book was still lying on the table. “Some people like it. It’s meaningful.”
“Do you like it?”
“I wish,” the other snorted, a strand of curls falling on his eye, and he didn’t even bat at it.
Jens eyed his hair, light brown, probably soft to pass your hand through- and he ignored his thoughts once again.
“We can turn something meaningless into something meaningful,” he said instead, and clarified when Lucas glanced at him with a half-mocking frown. “We’re going to have the best view for the fireworks. And it’s not even that cold, outside.”
Lucas glanced at the window, the darkness outside, the clouds blocking the stars.
“Climate change,” he nodded, and Jens scoffed.
“Climate change, yeah,” Jens agreed. “I know a good spot. It’s not too far.”
“This is exactly, words for words, what a killer would say,” Lucas deadpanned at him.
“Fuck, you got me,” the other sighed, and stood up from his chair- his butt thanked him for that. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to try to find another victim before-...”
A hand grabbed his wrist, barely strong enough to stop him, but Jens turned around immediately. “I mean…Are weed and fireworks worth being murdered?”
“I’d say yes,” Jens’ eyes landed on the book once again. “But I’m not sure you’re supposed to trust me. You know, the killing, and everything.”
Lucas scoffed. “C’mon,” he stood up too, barely smaller than Jens, and yeah, Jens noticed, and he forced himself to ignore that fact. “Let’s go get high and bloody.”
Nobody noticed them when they went out, grabbing their jackets with hurried and excited hands.
Lucas rushed him once they were down in the street. “It’s already 54’, Belgian Boy, I want that first hit right at the beginning of the fireworks.”
And so, Jens hurried after him, giving him the direction of his special spot- just a somewhat hidden park, with a bunker they could climb on, a bit higher than the rest of the city. It was a gem that Robbe had found a few weeks after moving in with Zoë and Milan, and they often hung out here, just getting high, or talking.
“Ah, fuck, okay,” Lucas sighed when they arrived in front of the bunker, when Jens jumped on it like it was nothing -practice. “Uh-...I’m going to need a hand, here,” he offered a sheepish smile, and immediately grabbed Jens’ hand when it extended towards him.
And Jens forced himself to ignore the softness of his skin, the cold fingers wrapping around his as he hauled the smaller boy on the bunker, the situation a bit ridiculous- Lucas almost landed face first on the dirty surface, but he caught himself at the last second. Jens pretended not to notice.
“C’mon, Nederlander, it’s almost New Year,” the dark-haired extended the joint in his direction, and Lucas was quick to grab it, not forgetting to glare at him for the nickname. “Okay, so, don’t judge me,” he warned before giving him his lighter, and-
“Oh my God,” Lucas scoffed only a second later. “You’re that kind of straight boy, aren’t you?”
Jens grimaced: he couldn’t really say anything at that, because he was that kind of straight boy, the kind to have a half-naked anime girl on his lighter- yeah, it was embarrassing. It was a gift from Aaron, to be honest, and a lighter is a lighter, especially when it’s the only one you can find at 3 in the morning with shaky fingers.
“I fear that I am,” he replied, watching the other teenager as he lit up the joint, face lightened up by the dark red flame-
Pretty.
“Hey, Dutch boy,” he called once Lucas took the first drag, his phone lit up with a new message from someone, probably Noor, or Jana. “Happy New Year.”
It wasn’t subtle: they could hear people yelling in the streets, music and laughs and screams of celebration, and soon: the fireworks began. Lucas passed him the joint, careful to not let their fingers brush, and he winked when he gave him the lighter back.
“Happy New Year, Vlaamse jongetje.”
*+*+*
Zondag. 00:17
“Okay. Hyperfixation of the moment?”, Jens asked, eyes trailing over the barely-there stars in the sky.
Lucas hummed. “Synchronized swimming,” he said after a second. “And Ateez.”
Jens didn’t even ask him what the fuck Ateez was: he just nodded to his reply, tried to think of an answer himself.
“I don’t really have one at the moment,” he stated after a blank of silence.
“Boring,” Lucas singsung.
They were lying down on the bunker, and it was cold, a bit too cold: climate change wasn’t that generous, their fingers were numb and their nose red, but none of them wanted to leave. It was strangely calm and peaceful, the night so welcoming of the new friendship blossoming between two strangers.
Jens was having fun- his phone kept vibrating in his pocket, probably texts from Jana, Moyo, Aaron, maybe even his mom, who knew? He ignored it, though.
Ignored it in favor of the dutch boy next to him, hair a mess and smile easy.
“Celebrity crush?” Lucas asked, turning his head to glance at him.
“Sarah Michelle Gellar,” Jens replied without hesitating, and he grinned when Lucas’ eyebrows shot up. “Surprised?”
“I thought you’d say a more generic-fuckboy answer,” the smaller boy had a teasing glow in his eyes. “Like Margot Robbie- Well, I mean, Sarah Michelle Gellar is still a pretty blonde girl, so…You’re still in that fuckboy category.”
Jens didn’t contain his laugh, the sound erupting low and bubbly around them, and Lucas’ own lips twitched in a small chuckle.
“Stop saying I’m a fuckboy,” he nudged the other slightly.
“I mean…If the shoe fits,” Lucas snorted when he caught sight of Jens’ offended eyes. “You had lipstick all around your lips when you came to talk to me.”
Ah- fuck. Yes, of course. Going up to him with wild hair, red all around his mouth and a half-boner in his pants probably wasn’t subtle at all.
“Okay,” Jens turned around, lifting himself up on his elbows and glancing down at Lucas. “This was just Jana-...We’re not-...Ah, fuck, okay, maybe a little bit, then,” he grimaced, but this slight humiliation was worth it for the bright smile Lucas offered. “C’mon, Nederlander. Celebrity crush?”
“I mean…Caleb Mclaughlin is high on the list,” his eyes set on Jens’ own gaze, careful. “Cameron Monaghan too.”
Jens gulped down saliva, the aftertaste of smoke bitter and dirty in the back of his throat. His eyes trailed down Lucas’ face, his tight smile, the uneasy gleam in his gaze.
“So,” he started, following the moles on his cheeks, right until his top lip, shining under the moon. “Men?”
Lucas took a sharp breath.
“Men,” he confirmed.
There was a fall, a silence that stretched too long, too empty, Jens still hovering on his elbows, next to Lucas, trying to think of sometimes to say- anything that wasn’t inappropriate. He had nothing against it: Robbe was probably getting fucked three ways into the NewYear by his boyfriend right now, and let’s not even talk about Milan, about Noor’s text, a bit over two weeks ago, just a single picture of a half-naked girl in her bed (“ meet my new girl!”), about his own Internet history, when he would get lonely and lost in the darkness of porn websites.
He had nothing against it, but he was still lost, confused-
“You’re gay?”, he dumbly asked instead of something nice, supportive, and he knew he fucked up when Lucas’ lip twitched in a small snarl. “I-...It’s just- I don’t have anything against it, I swear!”, he rose, sitting on his butt on the cold surface, and Lucas sighed from where he was still lying on his back.
“I’m gay, yes,” he replied, eyes on the sky, deliberating ignoring Jens. “Nobody knows, though. I don’t know why the first person I ever came out to was this Belgian borderline homophobic fuckboy.”
Okay; Jens was offended.
“Dude! I’m not a fuckboy,” he groaned, and sighed when Lucas shot him a glare. “And I’m not homophobic. My best friend’s dating a dude.”
“Oh yeah. The famous ‘I have a gay friend’.”
Ah…Jens really couldn’t do anything right, could he?
“Lucas,” Jens deadpanned. “I’m sorry. I’m not good with words,” and also drunk, high, and fuck, this cute boy with his fucking blue eyes was gay .
Holy shit.
There were a few seconds of blankness, where they just looked at each other, something between a frown and a sigh on Lucas’ lips.
And then, he rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “Note to self: Belgians are cute, but dumb.”
This was an opportunity, a window to leave this blanket of awkwardness that had settled on the conversation; Jens jumped on it immediately.
“Awh,” he cooed. “You think I’m cute.”
He was teasing him, and the bicker seemed to completely ease Lucas: his shoulders sagged, and the last trace of frown between his eyebrows disappeared.
His eyes slipped closed as he sighed. “I also think you’re dumb,” he stated.
Jens chuckled: he was happy the mood had relaxed again. “Sorry, I’m one of those people that see the glass half-full, not half-empty.”
Lucas stuck out his tongue, teasing, and Jens did not let any unwanted thoughts get to him, no matter how pink his tongue looked, how soft his lips probably were-
No, he just grimaced back at him, and fell back on the bunker, lying down again.
The silence that fell upon them was comfortable this time, not filled with unsaid things, with tension- no, it was quiet, calm, soothing almost. Jens let his eyes close, just focusing on Lucas’ breathing, on the sound of the parties around them, the illegal fireworks done in people’s backyards.
“What’s your New Year’s resolution?”, Lucas whispered as they listened to a drunk man sing a song in an unknown language, a bit further down the road.
Jens opened his eyes, turned his head. Lucas still had his own closed.
“I don’t know,” he desperately shoved his thoughts away- he couldn’t overwhelm this poor boy. “School, I guess,” he settled on.
Lucas peeled one eye open, glanced at him curiously. “You guess?”
“A safe choice,” he replied, making Lucas hum. “What’s yours?”
The question fell flat, received no answer, no hums, no scoff. Jens didn’t push for anything, didn’t even look in his direction, not until Lucas’ phone buzzed with calls and messages, not until they left, climbing down the bunker in quietness.
Not even when Lucas left, later in the night, Isa clinging onto him and Ralph giggling in his ears, cheeks red and hair messy- even then, he didn’t say anything, just watched the Dutch boy disappear from him, from his life, himself.