Starstruck (the Idea of Always)

Zaterdag 10:17

Lucas
Lucas was cold when he woke up, even though the blankets were carefully placed on top of him, and his arm was stretched out in front of him, as though he had been holding on to something under the blankets. Blinking his eyes, he sat up, rubbing his face and stretching, his back popping, and he groaned quietly. He looked across the room, his eyes bleary, and smiled softly as he noticed Jens's bag placed in the corner next to the door. A few feet from his bag sat the drawings, which, Lucas realized, had been reorganized, placed in neat stacks instead of the messy pile Lucas had thrown them into last night.

He pulled back the blankets and swung his leg off the bed, sitting still for a second, his shoulders hunched and his hands supporting him at his sides. His head ached, and his mouth and throat felt dry.

The sound of the kitchen faucet made him look up. The door to his room was almost closed, just a crack open. He stood, stumbling slightly, and swung the door open, hearing the faucet turn off. He made his way downstairs, seeing Jens as he turned in to the kitchen.

He was leaning against the counter, a glass full of water in his hand, lifted to his mouth, and was looking at his phone, not seeing Lucas enter. Lucas stopped in the doorway, watching him for a second. He was typing slowly with one hand, the glass touching his lips. His hair was messy (the thought of combing it with his fingers crossed Lucas's mind), the sleeves of his red sweatshirt pulled up his forearms. Lucas smiled softly. He really did come all the way from Antwerp. All the way to another country. For Lucas.

This beautiful boy, this boy that Lucas had only met in one city, only seen in parks and empty alleyways and parties, this boy Lucas had dreamed of, hoped for, this boy Lucas had fallen in love with was real, tangible, corporeal. And he was standing just feet away from him, in his kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

Lucas went in further and Jens looked up. He stepped up the counter across from Jens and pulled himself up to sit on it, crossing his ankles and placing his hands in his lap.

"Good morning." Jens's voice was rough. Lucas liked it.

"Hi."

He watched as Jens slid his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and took another sip of the water before moving so he was in front of Lucas, holding the glass up. Lucas took it in both hands and drained it, soothing his throat. Jens watched, his eyes soft on him.

"How do you feel?"

Lucas shrugged in response, placing the glass next to himself and looking down at his hands. Jens stepped closer, putting his hands on the counter so Lucas was between his arms, and put his forehead against Lucas's.

Lucas pulled his head back and leaned closer, nuzzling his face into Jens's neck, and felt Jens move his hands to Lucas's legs, gripping his hips lightly.

"Does your mom know you're here?" Lucas whispered against his skin.

"I texted her this morning."

"Is she okay with it?"

"She's okay with anything if it has to do with you."

Lucas smiled. He closed his eyes, shifting his head so he was closer, and sighed. He knew Jens's eyes were closed. He didn't have to look.

"When are you going back?" He asked it almost silently, dreading the answer. Whatever Jens said, it was too soon.

Jens took a breath before answering. "Don't know. We'll see."

"What about school?"

"My mom said she would send an email. I can get assignments and everything online, like what you're doing."

"What is she saying in the email?"

Jens pulled back, pushing Lucas's hips gently, and looked at his face. He lifted a hand and pushed a curl out of Lucas's face. Lucas realized how messy his own hair must have been, and was positive it didn't look anywhere near as cute as Jens's did.

"I have to attend to family matters," he said easily.

Lucas closed his eyes, feeling Jens's fingertips on his face, brushing over his cheek, forehead, and brow.

"You don't have to stay," Lucas said without opening his eyes.

"I'm staying," Jens said after a second. "I want to help you."

Lucas looked down, avoiding Jens's eyes.

"How can I? When you need help?"

"Just..." Lucas lifted his head. Jens stepped back slightly, taking his hand off Lucas's face and placing both on the counter. "I might need to leave places. If they're too loud. Or if there are too much light and stuff going on." He looked back down. "Help me breathe."

Jens nodded, still gazing at his face.

"Okay."

"There are days..." Lucas pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. "There are days that I don't wanna get out of bed. If I'm too anxious. Or too sad. There are times I don't wanna talk. Or can't talk. Or that I get mad. I might get annoyed by little things, might snap or lash out." He looked up into Jens's eyes. "I'm difficult, Jens."

Jens cocked his head.

"Me too."

"You're impossible," Lucas said, shaking his head.

"You can't deter me, I'm in love with you."

Lucas searched his eyes, his own flicking between Jens's.

"Those days..." Jens said. "Where you don't want to get out of bed." Lucas wanted to look away again, but couldn't, Jens's eye contact intense, entrancing. "What do I do?"

Lucas shrugged.

"You can try to get me up. Maybe just to go downstairs, eat or drink water. I might be able to go for a walk. Maybe just lay on the sofa instead of my bed." Jens nodded. "Maybe get me to take a shower or brush my teeth. But it might wear me out. Make me more tired."

"Anything is better than nothing," Jens said quietly. "We can take everything slow." Lucas felt like he could cry. Jens had said he loved him, but Lucas knew it. "Day by day." Jens tilted his head, scanning Lucas's face like he was playing connect the dots with his freckles. "Minute by minute."

"Other times I won't be able to do anything."

"What do I do then?"

Lucas stared at him.

"Just wait." He was whispering. Jens nodded again. "Will you wait for me?"

"For as long as you need."

Lucas took a deep breath and exhaled. His heart felt lighter.

"What can I do right now?"

Lucas didn't answer. He kept looking into his eyes, the first eyes he'd looked into in days. He'd avoided eye contact with his mother, avoided it with the nurses he'd bumped into in the hallways, with strangers he saw on the street. He'd missed Jens's eyes, the rich brown, the long lashes, the mole next to his right eye. Slowly, Lucas looked down, reaching his hands out to take Jens's, and placed them on his waist. When Jens spread his hands, touching the thick fabric of his hoodie, Lucas leaned in, putting his head back on Jens's shoulder, his forehead touching the skin of his neck, and placed his hands on his chest, curled like a child's.

Jens sighed, sliding his hands around to Lucas's back and pulling him closer.

"We can just stay like this," he whispered. Lucas nodded, closing his eyes.

Jens slipped his hands to Lucas's bottom, sliding him off the counter and carrying him out of the kitchen. Lucas wrapped his arms around Jens's neck and hooked his ankles at the small of his back.

Jens carried him up to him room, going up the stairs slowly, looking over Lucas's shoulder at the ground. Lucas only knew they'd reached his room when he felt Jens kneel on the bed, slowly lowering both of them so Jens laid on top of him. Lucas's arms tightened, a hand sliding up to Jens's hair.

I've got you.