Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alex has a very long list of things he needs to worry about today. He needs to worry about being on time to his first dance class of the year. He needs to worry about impressing his new teacher, who he’s heard is somehow even stricter than his old one. He needs to worry about making sure his dad never, ever finds out that he was even at the studio at all.

He didn’t think he’d have to worry about getting run over by a skateboard.

He’s almost to the door of the building when someone slams into him, sending him falling to the ground. Whoever it is collapses next to him.

“Aw, man, you dinged my board,” the person groans.

Alex climbs to his feet. “I dinged your board? Dude, you ran me over, you’re lucky I didn’t—“

The skater stands, long dark hair falling around sharp cheekbones and concerned brown eyes, and Alex’s brain shuts off.

Pretty, his mind supplies, unhelpfully. Then it adds, Ow.

Alex looks down to the source of his pain and almost passes out. He’s scraped his knee, but that’s not what catches his attention. His focus goes right to the massive hole in his tights surrounding the scrape, right where the delicate fabric emerges from under his shorts.

The skater follows Alex’s eyes to the tear and cringes sympathetically. “I’m sorry, man. My hair flew into my eyes and I couldn’t see you. I’ve got some bandaids if you want one.”

Alex knows he should say that it’s very kind of him to offer, and that he’s not really worried about the scrape so much as his ruined tights, but his brain has gone into overdrive because none of this was on his list of things to worry about today, and yet this one little incident has ruined everything. He’s going to be late, and his teacher will hate him for it, and then he’ll see the giant hole in his tights and he’ll get called out for violating dress code. He can’t even buy a new pair from the little shop inside the studio because he spent the last of his busking cash on a desperately needed new pair of drumsticks, and he can’t use his credit card because his parents would see the charge and then he would be fucked.

So he knows he should say thank you and accept the bandaid, but all he can manage is a rough, “Whatever,” before pushing past the skater to go inside and find Carrie.

He hears the skater scoff behind him. “Okay, asshole.”

Alex ignores him and manages to stop Carrie right before she enters studio A, pulling her away from the door. “Do you have any tights I can borrow?”

Carrie rolls her eyes. “You’re, like, half a foot taller than me.”

“Okay, then can I borrow some money to get new ones? I’ll pay you back.” They both know he won’t, but he offers every time anyways. Carrie’s dad, Trevor, is the one who pays for Alex’s lessons and everything he needs for them, and the one time Alex genuinely tried paying him back Trevor responded as if he’d suggested murder.

“Dad took my credit card away after I got caught at that party,” Carrie says. “Just ask him to buy you more after class. We’re going to be late anyways.”

“No, Care, I—“ He he doesn’t get to finish, because she pushes him through the door. There’s a small step up into the studio, and his foot catches on the ledge, sending him stumbling straight into his new instructor.

Alex scrambles back. “I’m so sorry, sir.” He’s heard of Caleb Covington before. He’s one of the most accomplished ballet instructors in LA history. And one of the most terrifying.

The man looks Alex over with shrewd blue eyes. “What’s your name?”

Alex swallows hard, trying to suppress the rising tide of anxiety in his throat. “Alexander, sir.”

“Are you aware of the dress code, Alexander?”

“Yes, sir, but you see, I got knocked over outside—“

“Next time, don’t step into my studio without proper tights,” Caleb snaps. “And don’t be late again, either.”

Alex bites back his anger as best he can. “Yes, sir,” he grits out.

Caleb, satisfied, and moves to the front of the room. Alex drops his duffel bag by the door and takes off his shorts. As he does so, someone jostles his shoulder, rather aggressively, and Alex looks up in time to see the skater from earlier push past him, his long hair now in a tightly-wrapped bun.

Of fucking course he has to be in this class, Alex thinks. Not like today could get any worse.

Alex takes him in and notices that he’s wearing a leotard and nude tights instead of a white t-shirt and black tights—the female uniform, not the male one—and a key around his neck, which is just a blatant violation of the dress code. Loose jewelry can lead to injuries, and Alex can perfectly imagine that thing whipping around and smacking someone. Alex looks to Caleb, waiting for him to call him out for it, or for being even later than Alex, but Caleb just nods at the skater and calls the class to attention, sparking a tiny flame of rage in Alex’s gut.

“Welcome,” Caleb says. “I’m your new instructor, Caleb Covington. I’m sure some of you may have heard of me, but I just transferred studios from Hollywood Dance Academy with my child, William.”

He gestures to the skater, and Alex’s heart plummets. Of course he had to go and piss off not only his new instructor, but his instructor’s kid as well. All the eyes in the class turn to William, and for a moment he seems to shrink away from the attention, but then he catches Alex’s eyes and raises his chin proudly. It feels like a challenge, and Alex hates him just a little bit more.

“I’ve been told you’re all exceptional dancers,” Caleb continues, “which is why I expect the best from you. For our recital this year, we’ll be performing The Sleeping Beauty.”

A murmur of surprise and excitement sweeps through the room. The Sleeping Beauty is one of the most challenging ballets, right up there with Swan Lake. Prince Désiré is a coveted role, and Alex decides right then and there that there’s nothing he wants more.

“Yes, I know this dance is a challenge even for professionals,” Caleb says, “but I have faith that you all will exhibit the hard work and dedication necessary to pull it off. This week we’ll start by learning audition routines, and in two weeks I will select our leads.”

Carrie leans over to Alex and whispers, “That role is so yours.”

Alex grins at her, but he can’t help but feel the anxiety clawing at the back of his head. He’s the best dancer in the class besides Carrie—not something he brags about, just a fact, but a fact that he’s proud of—but if William is Caleb’s son he’s probably been dancing his whole life. Alex only started four years ago, and now he’s on both the Covingtons’ bad sides, so of course Caleb will choose his son over him.

“Line up at the barre for warmups, please,” Caleb orders.

Alex and Carrie head to their usual spot on the barre, with Carrie behind him. Their class is pretty small, so there’s usually no one in front of him. Unfortunately, this leaves room for the newest addition to the class.

“Nice tights,” Alex snarks as William slides into the spot in front of him. “What, your daddy’s the instructor so dress code doesn’t apply to you?” He’s aware he’s being a dick, but he’s having a really bad day and this kid seems to dislike him just as much so what’s the harm in taking out some of his stress?

“At least mine don’t have holes in them,” William shoots back, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Caleb starts leading the warm up and Alex notes with frustration that talking to him isn’t even remotely distracting William from his perfect form.

“And whose fault is that?” Alex says. “Maybe you should take that key off before you injure someone else.”

This seems to strike a chord. William whips his head around and snaps, “Maybe you should mind your own business.”

“William,” Caleb calls. “Alexander. You both know better than to speak in class.”

William shoots Alex a final glare before turning back around.

They don’t speak to each other for the rest of class, but every time their eyes meet, William’s glare gets a little colder.

After an excruciating three hours, class finally ends and Alex throws his shorts on before following Carrie out to where her dad’s car is waiting by the curb. Carrie gets in and rolls down the window so Alex can lean in and talk.

“Hey, Uncle Trev,” Alex says.

Trevor pulls down his sunglasses to get a better look at him. “Hey kiddo, how was class?”

Alex shrugs. “Could have been better. Hey, um, I kind of ripped my tights...”

Trevor waves his hand. “Say no more. Thirty bucks enough?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Trevor pulls out his wallet and hands over two twenties. “Keep the extra. Need a ride home?”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk to the studio and change before I head home.”

Trevor nods. He knows the reason Alex can’t go home in his uniform, and he never pushes him about it, something Alex is endlessly grateful for.

“See you later for dinner, then?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah. Thanks, Trev.”

Trevor and Carrie wave as they drive away, and a part of Alex wishes he could drive away with them. At this point, he considers the Wilsons and the Molinas to be more his family than his actual parents.

He heads into the tiny store in the back of the studio, greeting the cashier as he enters. He grabs a pack of tights, throws it on the counter, and slides the cash over.

As he waits for the cashier to ring him up, he glances around the store, freezing when he hears voices out in the lobby.

“Dad, please—“

“My mind is made up, William.”

The cashier hands Alex his change, and Alex takes the tights before slinking over to the store entrance, peeking out into the lobby.

William has changed out of his uniform into ripped up shorts and a tie-dye crop top, sort of the opposite of what Alex would expect a Covington to wear outside the studio. Caleb looms over him, still in his uniform.

“You can’t keep doing this,” William insists. “It’s not fair—“

“Everyone will get their equal chance,” Caleb says, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“You know that’s not true. I don’t want to—“

“I have to get ready for my next class. We can discuss this at home.”

Caleb strides into Studio B, slamming the door shut behind him. William lets out a frustrated groan and drops into a chair.

“What’s the matter, William?” Alex says, stepping into the lobby. “Your daddy won’t just give you the lead?”

“It’s Willie,” he snaps, with much more force than necessary, in Alex’s opinion. “And I was asking him not to give me the lead, asshole.”

This, admittedly, surprises Alex. That’s actually a really cool thing of him to do, and Alex is about to apologize when Willie continues, “I wanted everyone to have a fair chance, but since you’re being such a dick, maybe I will put myself up for it.”

Alex snaps his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes. “Alright. Fine. May the best man win.”

Willie winces. “Fuck off.” He grabs his bag and skateboard and storms out the door.

Now it’s Alex’s turn to groan and sink into a chair. What has he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

Willie doesn’t mean to make an enemy on their very first day at their new studio. They don’t mean to run over the cute boy outside the building, and they definitely don’t mean to rip his tights.

They probably shouldn’t take it so personally when the boy rudely brushes them off. Willie would be upset, too, if their tights tore right before class. But they’re really fucking sick of being brushed off. Lately, it feels like it’s been happening constantly. At school, at his old dance studio, with his father. He feels like he hasn’t gotten a full sentence out in months.

So maybe he’s a little rude back to Alexander. What goes around comes around, right?

And then Alexander starts making comments about Willie’s uniform, and Willie decides that they hate him. The entire reason Willie left their old studio—and upended Caleb’s job, as he loves to remind them—was so that they could wear the uniform they felt more comfortable in. Willie had assumed that a studio with a gender-inclusive policy would have students with the same ideals. Apparently, they were wrong.

Despite all that, when Caleb pulls Willie aside after class and tells them that he wants them to have Prince Désiré, they fight it. They don’t want it if they haven’t earned it, and as much as they hate to admit it, they were watching Alexander and he might be the better dancer. They’re on par with each other in terms of technical skills, but Alexander dances with this passion that Willie hasn’t felt in a while.

But of course, Alexander overhears that conversation and assumes the worst of Willie, so Willie decides that actually, they do want Prince Désiré. Then Alexander misgenders them, and it’s set in stone. Willie is going to do everything in their power to genuinely win this part.

Later that night, they burst into Caleb’s office without knocking, startling their father into sweeping some papers off his desk.

“I want another teacher with you when you choose the leads,” Willie demands. “To keep you fair. I’m going to win that role, but I want to earn it.”

Before Caleb can argue, Willie leaves, slamming the door behind them. They take a moment to revel in the exhilaration of being the one to do that for once, then head down to the makeshift studio in their basement and start working on their audition routine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the following two weeks, Willie and Alexander are constantly at each other’s throats, in and out of rehearsal. It turns out they go to the same school, and Willie’s best (and only) friend Flynn is also good friends with Alexander and his band. Willie has seen the group around before but he’s never really paid them much attention. Now, he spends his entire lunch period glaring across the room at Alexander and receiving frigid looks in return.

“You should just talk to him,” Flynn tells him one day at lunch. They eat together every other day, and up until this point, Willie’s never given a lot of thought to who they eat with when they’re not with him. “He’s really a nice guy. You just caught him on a bad day.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guy who constantly insults and misgenders me is so nice.”

Flynn rolls their eyes. “Have you ever actually told him that you’re non-binary?”

“Of course I have,” Willie responds. “I…” They trail off, wracking their memory for any indication they’ve given Alexander that they’re not cis. All they come up with is their uniform and the fact that Caleb introduced them as his child, not his son. “I guess I haven’t. But I mean, there’s a big difference between wearing the wrong color tights and wearing the full girls’ uniform.”

“Okay, yes, it was shitty of him to assume,” Flynn concedes, “but like I said, he was having a really bad day. He probably wasn’t paying enough attention to put two and two together.”

“It felt like I was the only thing he was paying attention to,” Willie grumbles.

“My point is,” Flynn says, “I used my words and told Alex that I’m nonbinary, and he hasn’t misgendered me since. He’d do the same for you.”

“You can’t be sure of that. He hates me.”

“He’s a bit of a dick, not a horrible human being. He knows the difference between petty insults and disregarding someone’s identity.”

Willie drops their head onto their arms and groans. “Why do you always have to be right?”

Flynn pats their back sympathetically. “It’s not easy being this perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willie doesn’t get a chance to come out to Alexander before their next class, because they’re too busy trying to talk themself down from a panic attack. They’ve never been this nervous for an audition before. In truth, they’ve never wanted a role this badly before.

Alexander goes first, and fuck, yeah, he’s good. It does nothing to calm Willie’s nerves, watching the way Alexander gracefully glides across the room. The other teacher Caleb brought in gives him a standing ovation, and Willie wants to scream.

Two more guys go in between them, and by the time it’s Willie’s turn he feels like he’s going to throw up. If he doesn’t get this role, he’ll never be able to look Alexander in the eyes again. And God, they can’t even imagine how Caleb would react. They’ve never lost a role before, and they do not want to know what that kind of disappointment looks like on their father.

Willie assumes their starting position, hyper aware of both Caleb and Alexander’s eyes on them. He suddenly feels lightheaded, swaying a little, lost in all the potential negative consequences of his actions, but the music starts and he snaps himself back to reality.

They’re Willie fucking Covington. There’s not many good things that have come out of their time with Caleb but it has made them one of the best damn ballerinas in Los Angeles. They can do this.

They let the music take the lead, pouring their entire heart into the movements in a way they haven’t done in years, not since they realized that not even the most perfect performance ever would make Caleb love them for more than their talent. At the time, it had just made them apathetic, but today they let a long-repressed desire to prove themself fuel their performance.

It’s maybe not the most technical performance Willie’s ever given, but it’s certainly the most passionate. They finish their routine, breathing heavily, and their eyes dart over to their father. His face, as always, is an emotionless mask, but he’s clapping, which Willie takes as a sign of approval. The other teacher applauds as well, though Willie feels like it’s not as hard as the applause Alexander received.

Willie takes their seat to watch the rest of the auditions. They’re directly in front of Alexander, and they can feel his eyes boring into the back of their head. They try to ignore him but the feeling doesn’t go away after the next three auditions, so they finally turn around to glare at him.

What they see catches them by surprise. Alexander isn’t glaring, but Willie can’t quite read the emotion in his eyes. It looks almost... impressed? Whatever it is, they don’t have time to figure it out because it only takes a split second for Alexander to realize they’re looking and twist his face into a scowl. Willie rolls their eyes and turns back around.

At the end of the auditions, Caleb and the other teacher slip out of the room to deliberate. As their classmates chat nervously around them, Willie pulls the key around their neck out from where it’s tucked into their leotard and runs their thumb over it, willing the clock to move faster.

“Hope you’re ready to be my prince,” they hear Carrie Wilson say to Alexander. Of course she’s going to be Aurora. Willie doesn’t think anyone ever doubted that.

Caleb and the other teacher are gone for maybe half an hour, but it feels like an eternity. The room falls silent as they enter and Caleb holds up his clipboard.

He reads through some of the smaller roles first, and Willie lets out a breath of relief when their name isn’t called for any of them.

“Now for the leads,” Caleb announces, and those who haven’t had their names called lean forward in anticipation. “In the role of Princess Aurora, we have Miss Carrie Wilson.”

Willie claps politely for her, but their heart feels like it’s about to beat out of their chest.

“And in the role of Prince Désiré...” Caleb locks eyes with Willie, and their stomach plummets. They’ve never seen such anger in his eyes before. “Alexander Mercer.”

Willie goes numb to the world. Caleb keeps listing off roles, and they’re vaguely aware of their name being called as the king or something, but for the most part all they hear is radio static.

This can’t be happening. They were so sure they’d be able to get this role, prove that they could really earn it without the nepotism. Now they’ve ruined Caleb’s vision for the show, and there’s going to be hell to pay. They can see it in the way Caleb’s glare never leaves them as he finishes off the cast list.

Caleb dismisses the class, but Willie doesn’t move from where they’re planted on the bench. Caleb crosses to them and puts a too-strong hand on Willie’s shoulder.

“Wait in the office until my classes are done,” he hisses. “We’re going to discuss this.”

Willie nods, and Caleb stalks out of the room. For one glorious moment, Willie thinks their alone, but then a voice speaks from behind them.

“Well? Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

Willie turns to look at Alexander. They can’t find the energy to morph their face into anything but numb shock, and Alex seems caught off guard.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Willie doesn’t respond, simply stands and pushes past Alexander before running to the empty office across the lobby and bursting into tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They only get a few minutes of sobbing in peace before they hear the lobby door bang open, and a furious voice yell, “What the fuck is this?”

Willie jumps to his feet and runs to the door of the office, phone in hand in case he needs to call for help. He peeks out into the lobby and sees a tall blonde man storming over to Alexander, who looks like he was on his way into the bathroom to change.

“Dad,” Alexander says, scrambling backwards. “What—how did—“

“This is where you’ve been sneaking off to every Saturday? Doing this pansy shit?”

“Dad, I can explain—“

“You were already pushing it with that fruity ass band of yours, but this? No son of mine is going to be some fairy prancing around in tights.”

Alexander shrinks into himself. Willie stands frozen, unsure if they should step in or not. Would Alexander even want them to? What would they even say?

“If you ever set foot in this place again, you’re out. You understand me?”

Alexander’s eyes widen in panic. “Please, Dad. I’m good at this. I—I just got the lead, I can’t—“

“Do you understand me?” Alexander’s father roars. It even scared Willie into taking a step back.

Alex nods, lowering his eyes to the floor. “Yes, sir.”

“Get in the car. Now.”

Alexander’s father turns on his heel and storms out to the car. Alexander starts to follow, but on the way out he lifts his head and catches Willie’s eye. He quickly turns away.

Willie still stands frozen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They have their own confrontation with their dad a few hours later. It’s not nearly the same subject matter, but the anger is the same.

Willie barely listens as Caleb goes on and on about how Willie humiliated him; how they’re ungrateful; how he uprooted his job simply so Willie could wear nude tights instead of black; how he’s given Willie everything and they can’t even do the one thing he asks of them in return.

Caleb’s never been so direct about his feelings towards Willie, and under any other under circumstances, they would have withered under all the shame he’s piling on. However, Willie just sits there and takes it, their mind more preoccupied with what they witnessed between Alexander and his dad. They should have done something. They could have at least tried.

About halfway through his tirade, Caleb gets a phone call from Alexander informing him that he’s quit the class. Caleb hangs up and turns to Willie with a sneer.

“Well, looks like you get Prince Désiré after all.”

It’s a hollow victory.

Chapter Text

Alex still doesn’t know how his dad found out about the dance lessons, but his life has been hell since then. He’s grounded for the foreseeable future, so not only does he not get to dance, he doesn’t get to drum either, which is his only other outlet for all these shitty feelings that have been boiling beneath the surface since his dad found out.

The only time he gets to see his friends now is at school, which sucks on a million different levels. He doesn’t have many classes with any of them; Luke is in all special ed classes, and Reggie bounces between those and AP. Flynn, Julie, and Carrie are in the grade below them, so the only times he gets to see anyone besides Bobby is during gym and lunch.

He tries to savor that time, so he thinks he can be forgiven for completely ignoring Willie when he walks up to their table the Monday after Alex's last ever dance class.

“Hey,” Willie says, and he sounds a bit nervous, but Alex decides he doesn’t care. He keeps his eyes on Reggie, who is still telling a story, completely oblivious to the intruder at their table.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute,” Willie continues.

Luke and Julie have noticed him now, and Luke shoots Alex a confused look, but Alex resolutely ignores all of them.

Willie sighs. “Alexander, please...”

“Oh my god,” Alex snaps, finally turning to look at Willie. “You already got the stupid role. What more do you want?”

The whole table freezes, even Reggie. Willie shifts uncomfortably on his feet, eyeing Alex’s friends. His gaze land on Flynn, who gives him a little nod. He takes a deep breath and turns back to Alex.

“It’s kind of personal,” Willie says, biting his lip. “Can we maybe go somewhere private?”

“Fine,” Alex huffs. He stands, pointedly avoiding his friends’ eyes. They’ve all heard a lot about Willie in the past few weeks, about how he’s pretentious and talented and awful and beautiful and rude. He’s big enough to admit that he has a lot of conflicting feelings, but his friends have not been subtle about pointing out the positive ones when all he really wants is to rant about the negative ones.

He lets Willie lead him to an empty corner at the back of a library, where a small study table is tucked behind some bookshelves. Alex leans against the table and crosses his arms as Willie begins pacing back and forth in front of him.

“Well?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie stops pacing and looks Alex dead in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Oh. Well, Alex wasn’t expecting that.

Willie pushes through Alex’s shock, resuming his pacing. “I’m really sorry I was such a dick to you, although to be fair, you were a dick first, but I should have been the bigger person and been nicer.”

Alex isn’t quite sure what to do with this rambling version of Willie. Their conversations are usually rapid-fire, hurtling sharp insults at each other at unbelievable speeds. He’s never heard Willie say this much at once.

“I’m also sorry I overheard the thing with your dad,” Willie continues. “But also kinda not sorry? Because, like, I get it. I’ve gone through shit like that too, and maybe I should have realized that you were going through it—“ Willie cuts himself off with a little shake of his head. “That’s not my point. My point is that I was a dick to you and I’m sorry and I want to tell you why I was such a dick but God, it’s hard, why is this so hard—“

“Willie—“ Alex tries to cut in, but Willie suddenly stops and whirls around to face him.

“I’m non-binary.”

“Oh,” Alex says, and then the realization smashes into him like Willie did that first day they met. “Oh. Oh my god, Willie, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Willie shrugs, suddenly fascinated by their shoelaces. They have their arms crossed, rubbing their thumb over their bicep. “I mean, it’s not, but like. I never told you. I thought I did, but Flynn pointed out that I was wrong, so sorry for assuming the worst of you. Although you did the same to me. Um. Anyways. I use he and they pronouns, so you didn’t technically misgender me, but...”

“All those times I made fun of your uniform,” Alex realizes.

Willie nods. “Didn’t feel great.”

Alex takes a step closer, subconsciously reaching for Willie before realizing that normal people aren’t as touchy as his friends, and Willie definitely doesn’t want the guy who’s been misgendering them touching them at all.

“I’m really, really sorry, Willie,” he says. “About everything. I was having a really bad day when we met, and I mean, you saw my dad, you know what that is. But I have absolutely no excuse for the shit I said, especially about your uniform. You have every right to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Willie says. “Well, maybe I did. A little. But I think we both got off on the wrong foot and assumed the worst of each other, and I was kind of wondering if we could start over.”

Alex nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sticks out his hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Alex and I use he/him pronouns.”

Willie gives him a small smile and shakes his hand. “I’m Willie, he/they, and I know we just met but have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”

“Yeah,” Willie nods. “I can tell that dance is really important to you, and it really sucks that you won’t get to come to class anymore, so I thought I could maybe teach you the Prince Désiré parts after I learn them in class?”

Alex stares at them, stunned. It might be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for him, second only to the Molinas and the Wilsons basically adopting him, and he really can’t believe it’s coming from someone who hated his guts not even ten minutes ago.

Willie seems to take his silence as rejection. “Sorry, it was a stupid idea. You can say no, I just thought it might help if you didn’t have to give up dance completely.”

“Willie,” Alex breathes, and their head snaps up to look at him. “That’s so nice of you, and after everything I’ve done to you, I— I just don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, well,” Willie shrugs, “you don’t deserve to have your homophobic father take away something you love, either.”

There’s an edge to their voice, and Alex wonders what exactly Willie meant when they said they’ve gone through the same shit. Clearly, they aren’t just doing this to help Alex, but the fact that they’re doing it at all is enough for him.

Screw it, he decides. He throws his arms around Willie. “Thank you.”

Willie tenses up like they’re not quite sure what to do when hugged. “Um, is that a yes?”

Alex pulls back, shoving his hands into his pockets apologetically. “Yes, please.”

“Cool,” Willie says with a little smile.

They exchange numbers and spend the rest of the period figuring out where and how to rehearse—Alex is still very much grounded and Willie would be too if their dad found out they were giving away his choreography for free. Thankfully, Julie is Ms. Harrison’s favorite and she has a key to the band room, which she agrees to lend to Alex on the condition that he guards it with his life.

After they figure that out, the only issue is convincing Alex’s dad to let him stay late after school.

The morning of their first secret lesson, Alex approaches his father at breakfast. He clears his throat nervously and his dad looks up from his newspaper with a glare.

“Is it okay if I stay a couple hours after school? Carrie asked me to tutor her in English.”

“Can’t you do that here?”

“She has Dirty Candy rehearsal in the gym afterwards, so it’s easier for her to stay.”

His dad studies him for a moment, and Alex wills his fidgety hands to stay still for once in his life.

“Fine,” his dad grunts, finally. “But I’m picking you up from the school exactly at 5. If I find out you’ve been somewhere else...”

“I won’t be,” Alex says, a little too firmly. He tries to soften his tone. “Thanks, Dad.”

His dad nods and goes back to his paper. Alex grabs an apple from the counter and is about to leave when his dad speaks up again.

“You know, Carrie is a nice young lady.”

Alex bites his tongue. Somehow he doesn’t think saying, “Actually, we’re both super gay,” will help his case, so he simply forces a smile and says, “Yeah, she is.”

It leaves a sour taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the last period of the day, Alex books it to the bathroom to change. He doesn’t have his uniform anymore; his dad demanded he hand it over as soon as they got home from that day at the studio. He probably burned it. So now, all Alex has is his gym shorts and t-shirt, and he silently prays Willie won’t ask him about it.

Well, he’d probably deserve it after all the digs he made about Willie’s uniform. He still can’t believe he was such an ass about it.

He finds Willie waiting for him in the band room, already in their uniform and stretching. They look up at him with a nervous smile when he enters.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Alex drops his bag next to the door and joins them on the floor to stretch.

An awkward silence settles over the two of them, filled only by the rock music playing quietly from Willie’s phone. Alex desperately wracks his brain for a conversation topic, but what the hell do you say to the person you’ve been constantly insulting for weeks who’s now doing something incredibly kind for you? He settles on the one thing he always knows how to talk about: music.

“I really like this song,” he says, at the exact same time Willie says, “You can change the music if you want.”

The two of them blink at each other, then let out awkward laughs.

“So do you really like the song,” Willie asks, “or did you just say that to break the ice?”

“Little of both?” Alex says with a shrug, and Willie chuckles. “I do love this band, though. Midnight Madness, right?”

“Yeah,” Willie says, surprised. “Not many people know them. They’re still kind of local.”

“Yeah, we’ve opened for each other a few times.”

“No way!” Willie says, eyes lighting up in a way Alex has never seen before. “That’s so cool. Y’know, Flynn’s offered to get me tickets to see them a couple times. I bet they were for the nights your band was playing.”

“So you’ve seen us play?” Alex asks. He’s not quite sure why there’s this fluttering under his ribcage at the thought of Willie seeing his band.

“Um, no.” Willie ducks their head, suddenly sheepish. “My dad doesn’t let me go to concerts.”

“Well hey,” Alex says, leaning over to nudge their shoulder with his own. “Maybe next time we play with them I can sneak you out to come see us. Secret concerts in exchange for secret dance lessons.”

Willie gives him a little smile, and that fluttering intensifies. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Alex makes a mental note to ask Flynn to book a gig with Midnight Madness as soon as humanly possible.

Willie jumps to their feet. “You ready to get started?”

Alex nods and stands as Willie changes the music to Prince Désiré’s first number.

“So I figured I could just run through what I learned and then teach it to you?”

“Sounds good.” Alex leans on a music stand and watches Willie take their starting position.

When Willie starts to dance, the rest of the world drops away.

It’s not the first time Alex has seen them dance, obviously, but there’s something different about this time. Before, in class, there was a fire raging within them, something angry and spiteful and ambitious. Now, there’s something softer about them. The way they move feels lighter, freer, like now they're complete whereas before they were reaching for something.

When Alex finally snaps out of his daze long enough for Willie to start teaching him the choreography, he gets it. There’s no pressure here; no overbearing teacher to impress, no roles to win or lose, no consequences for a missed step or a fumbled landing. When he does make a mistake, Willie simply smiles and walks him through how to do it again. For the first time since he started advanced classes, Alex feels free to fully enjoy himself, all his anxieties about being the best locked away in the back of his mind.

“You’re a really good teacher,” Alex says after about an hour, when they sit down for a water break.

“Thanks,” Willie says, taking a swig of their water. “I actually taught beginner classes at my old studio, so that’s reassuring to hear.”

“Really? Alex asks. “I’ll bet the kids loved you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Willie chuckles, “but they were fun. I’m trying to get a class at the new studio, but it was already hard enough to get a class for Caleb. There’s not many openings.”

“Do you think that’s what you want to do?” Alex asks, politely not asking why they refer to their dad by his first name, even thought he desperately wants to. “I mean, if you’re not starring in the New York Ballet by then.”

He means it as a joke, a compliment even, but Willie’s expression shutters. They pull their key necklace out from where it’s tucked into their leotard and run their thumb over it, pointedly avoiding Alex’s eyes.

“I used to,” they say quietly. “I wanted to be just like Caleb, dance with the San Fran Ballet until I’m too old and then start teaching the next generation but… right now I’m just teaching because I need the money. I’m not even really sure I want a career in dance at all anymore.”

Alex wants to ask so many questions about why they need the money, why they’ve lost their passion, what they would do instead—questions are kind of his thing, okay, sue him— but Willie jumps to their feet and tucks the key back into their leotard.

“Wow, sorry,” they laugh. “That was TMI. You ready to jump back into it?”

The way they ask it leaves no room for argument, so Alex nods and joins them on their designated dance floor. The rest of the lesson is thoroughly enjoyable, and Alex comes to the realization that he could not have been more wrong in his judgment of Willie. They’re kind, and patient, and funny. They talk a lot, and ramble about cool facts that are only vaguely relevant to what they’re doing, but Alex finds he doesn’t mind. They’re nice to listen to.

And they’re pretty. Like, really, really pretty. Alex thinks he manages to stay relatively focused despite that distraction. He only stumbles once because he’s staring at the strand of hair that’s fallen out of their bun, and he thinks that’s pretty fair for someone in his position. Of course, he’ll never ever admit to Willie why he stumbled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Midnight Madness, huh?” Flynn asks with a knowing grin at lunch the next day.

Alex glares at her as Luke looks between the two of them.

“What’s so special about them?” he asks. “We’ve played with them, like, dozens of times.”

“They’re Willie’s favorite band.” Flynn wiggles her eyebrows and Alex sees the lightbulb go off in Luke’s eyes.

“Oooh—“

“Shut up,” Alex cuts him off. “Both of you. Just book them, please? And make sure it’s after I’m ungrounded.”

“Yes, sir,” Flynn says with an eye roll, already pulling out their phone to email Midnight Madness’s manager.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julie and the Phantoms ft. Midnight Madness, Alex texts Willie that night. Two weeks from Friday.

Willie texts back almost immediately.

Can’t wait Princey :D

The nickname’s new. Alex isn’t quite sure how he feels about it.

(He loves it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over their next two lessons, Alex and Willie relax into a steady friendship. There’s something about Willie that puts Alex at ease; quiets the constant barrage of thoughts in his head.

“How long have you been dancing?” They ask one day during their lesson.

“About four years,” Alex shrugs.

“No way,” Willie says. “That’s insane. Most people with your skill level have been dancing since they could walk.”

Alex feels his face heat up, and he begs whatever god is listening that Willie won’t notice. “I mean, you’re just as good as me, if not better. How long have you been dancing?”

“A while,” they say, and Alex wants to protest that that’s not really an answer, but Willie is already pushing on. “How’d you get into it?”

“Well, you know Carrie?”

“My love interest,” Willie nods, screwing their face up in mild disgust.

Alex laughs. “Yeah, well, me and her brother Bobby have been best friends since birth, basically. One day their dad, Trevor, took the three of us out for lunch before Care’s dance lesson, but he forgot he had this super important meeting so he just dropped me and Bobby off at the studio with her. The teacher made us participate for the day. Bobby hated it, but I kind of fell in love with it. Trevor saw how happy I was afterwards and offered to pay for my lessons.”

“That’s really nice of him,” Willie says.

“Yeah. He’s basically my dad at this point.” Alex allows himself a moment to be silently grateful for the Wilsons before asking, “What about you? How’d you get into it?”

Willie’s hand reaches for their key. “My mom was a dance teacher. She never, like, danced in a professional ballet or anything, but she loved it. She signed me up for classes when I was little.”

“So you have been dancing since you could walk,” Alex jokes.

“Sort of,” Willie says. “I, um—after she died I got stuck with a foster family who wouldn’t let me dance. It was three years, I think, until Caleb adopted me and I got to start again.”

“I’m sorry, that really sucks,” Alex says. It clicks into place why Willie offered to do this for him. He couldn’t imagine going three years without doing the thing he loves. “That’s a lucky coincidence that you ended up with a dance teacher.”

Willie grimaces and Alex immediately regrets his words. He never wants to make Willie look like that again.

“It wasn’t a coincidence,” they say slowly. “He was my mom’s coworker, and my dance teacher before they made me quit. When I stopped showing up for classes he decided to fight for custody so my talents wouldn’t go to waste. It took three years, but he won.” Willie takes a deep, shaky breath. “Sorry, I don’t really like talking about this. He’s not—he’s not a great dad.”

“Don’t apologize,” Alex says immediately, moving to grab Willie’s hand. “I get it. I’m sorry I pushed.”

Willie gives him a small smile and Alex realizes with horror what he’s doing. He tries to pull away, but Willie squeezes his hand, keeping him in place.

“It’s okay,” they shrug. “Tell me about this concert tonight?”

Alex nods and does as he’s asked, and if they keep holding hands until their water break is over, well, neither of them mentions it.

Chapter Text

Willie’s not exactly sure why they’re so nervous. It’s not like they haven’t snuck out dozens of times before, and even if they hadn’t, tonight’s escape mission isn’t exactly high stakes. Caleb’s at the opera with his rich douchebag friends, so all Willie has to do is turn off the security camera and walk out the front door. Still, their heart threatens to pound out of their chest as they make their way towards Alex’s van, where the boy himself is leaning against the side and waiting for them. His face lights up as soon as he catches sight of Willie, and Willie’s stomach does a weird little flip. That’s been happening a lot lately, and the more time they spend with Alex, the more intense it gets.

“Hey, Princey,” Willie greets him, then lets out a little yelp when Alex pulls them into a hug. Ever since they held hands at their last dance lesson, Alex has increased the physical affection by a thousand percent. Willie’s not complaining; it’s just a lot more than they’re used to. A lot more.

“I gotta apologize in advance,” Alex says once he’s let Willie go. “I already picked up my bandmates, and they can be… a lot.”

“I’ve heard the stories from Flynn,” Willie chuckles. “I know what I’m getting into.”

Alex shoots them a relieved smile and opens the passenger side door for them. “Prepare yourself.”

Willie slides into the van and is immediately greeted by a girl—Julie, he presumes— yelling, “Shut up, shut up, they’re here!”

Suddenly, all four of Alex’s bandmates are jostling each other in the backseat, trying to be the first to introduce themselves. None of them win; instead, their voices come out in a jumbled cloud of names that Willie couldn’t make sense of if they tried. Alex climbs into the driver’s seat and rolls his eyes.

“Guys, shut up,” he calls, and they fall silent. “This is Willie. Willie, that’s Julie, Luke, Bobby, and Reggie.”

“It’s great to finally meet you guys,” Willie smiles. “Alex and Flynn have told me a lot about you.”

“We could say the same about you,” Reggie says with a wink.

Willie glances at Alex, confused, but Alex just rolls his eyes and pulls away from the curb.

“So Willie,” Julie says, leaning forward in between the front seats. “Did you know Alex traded me a month of chores for my shotgun privileges so he could sit next to you?”

“Shut up,” Alex hisses. “I just didn’t want them to be stuck in the middle of Reg and Bobby’s make out session.”

Willie glances into the back seat, where Reggie and Bobby are, in fact, making out with Bobby on Reggie’s lap.

Luke lets out an indignant whine. “You make me sit in the middle of that every time!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t like you as much as Willie,” Alex retorts, throwing Willie a playful look that makes their cheeks heat up.

“It’s all right, babe,” Julie says, patting Luke’s thigh. “Now we can have our own make out.”

Luke’s face splits into a wide grin and he lunges at Julie. Willie quickly turns around to give them their privacy.

“Wow, so the whole band is dating, huh?” asks Willie.

“Yeah,” Alex laughs, “except me, obviously. I’m sorry about them.”

“Don’t be,” Willie says, trying not to let their mind stick on the fact that Alex is single. “They seem cool.”

They mean it, too. Willie’s never had many friends—really, it’s just been Flynn for as long as they can remember—so while it’s foreign to them, it’s really nice to feel like they’re part of this group that blends so seamlessly together.

“So, is this your first concert?” Alex asks.

“Do symphonies count?”

“Do symphonies have mosh pits?”

“No?”

“Then no, they definitely don’t count.” Alex lets out a low whistle. “I can’t believe we’re your first concert. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Well, hey,” Willie says, “I have nothing to compare it to, so even if it sucks it’ll be way more exciting than a symphony.”

“Oh, I can guarantee that,” Alex laughs.

They end up at a tiny club in downtown LA, a dingy, dirty place Caleb would never step foot in. Willie decides they love it. Flynn is waiting for them, having arrived early to talk to the manager, and she corrals Willie into the green room while the bands do their sound checks.

“Why can’t I watch?” Willie asks as Flynn shoves them onto a ratty old couch.

“I don’t want you to see Alex play until his actual set.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to fall in love with him ,” Flynn says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and if you see the sound check you won’t be able to focus on Midnight Madness, who I know you’ve been dying to see.”

“I’m not—“ Willie chokes out. “I won’t—“

“Sure you won’t,” Flynn says with a roll of their eyes. “Just trust me, Wills, I know what’s best for you.”

“You sound like Caleb,” Willie grumbles, but a smile pulls at the corner of their lips.

“Except I’m actually right,” Flynn chirps. “Okay, I gotta go take care of some things, but I’ll come get you before we open the doors.”

They rush out of the room, leaving Willie to play on their phone. About half an hour later, the door opens and Alex pokes his head in, grinning when Willie looks up at him.

“Hey! We’re about to open the doors.”

“Oh, awesome!” Willie says, jumping to their feet.

Alex grabs their hand, and Willie resolutely does not blush.

“Come on,” he says, “we gotta claim the front row.”

He tugs Willie through the hall and out into the main venue, where people are just starting to trickle in. Alex marches right up to the barricade and slings his arms over it, getting comfortable.

“Do the headliners usually watch from the audience?” Willie asks when he shows no sign of going backstage.

“Nah,” Alex shrugs, “but I want to watch the opener with you.”

“Oh,” Willie grins. “Okay.” They shuffle a little closer to Alex, letting their shoulders brush as they lean against the barricade. “Aren’t you worried about fans recognizing you?”

“That’s what this is for,” Alex says, tapping the brim of his ball cap.

“Kind of a lame disguise,” Willie teases.

“Sorry I don’t live up to your standards,” Alex laughs. “When we make it big I’ll go all out. Get a prosthetic mask and everything.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Willie says with a giggle. The crowd behind them starts to fill out, a couple people joining Alex and Willie at the barricade. “Is that what you want to do?” Willie asks. “Play music for a living?”

“I mean, yeah,” Alex chuckles. “I think that’s every musician’s goal. But I know we have what it takes to actually do it.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that tonight,” Willie says.

“Go easy on me,” Alex pleads, a joking tone to his voice. “It’s so hard to concentrate on playing when there’s a cute person in the crowd.”

Holy shit. Willie has no fucking clue how to respond to that. Did Alex just flirt with them? He thinks they’re cute? What the fuck?

From the stunned look on Alex’s face, he hadn’t meant to say it, and he’s at a loss for a reaction as well.

Thankfully, neither of them have to give one as the lights go out and Midnight Madness takes the stage. A rush of excitement floods through Willie at the first chord of their opening song, and it’s almost enough to drown out the steady refrain of He thinks I’m cute he thinks I’m cute he thinks I’m cute running through their head.

Alex quickly relaxes as the music plays, so Willie finds themself relaxing as well. They sing along to the songs together, jumping and dancing against the barricade. Alex was right; this is a lot more exciting than a symphony. Willie loves the rush of letting a wall of strangers jostle them as they all lose themselves in the music together. Willie’s never felt this free.

Midnight Madness’s set is disappointingly short. After their last song, the lights come back on and techies flood the stage to switch out the bands’ equipment.

Alex squeezes Willie’s arm and shouts, “I gotta go!”

Willie nods, trying not to let their disappointment show on their face. Of course they’re looking forward to seeing Alex play, but the spot beside them feels too empty when he slips off into the crowd, even though it’s quickly filled by another audience member.

It takes about twenty minutes before Alex’s band takes the stage, allowing Willie twenty minutes of quality overthinking. Their thoughts are all a bit jumbled, mixed up with the deafening music and their muffled hearing and the dancing and the He thinks I’m cute he thinks I’m cute he thinks I’m cute, so Willie decides to organize them by making a list of facts in their head.

Fact: Alex called Willie cute. Fact: Willie thinks Alex is cute. Fact: Alex didn’t mean to say it, but he also didn’t take it back. Fact Conjecture: The music might have stopped him from taking it back. Fact: He sang and danced with Willie. Fact: It was thrilling.

After twenty minutes of He thinks I’m cute and What does this mean and What do I do and Holy SHIT he thinks I’m cute, the lights shut off again and Alex’s band takes the stage.

They don’t bother with an introduction. Instead, Julie nods to Alex and he counts them into an upbeat pop rock sound.

The music is great, and Willie is sure the other band members are putting on fantastic performances, but all Willie can see or hear is Alex.

Alex and the way the lights shine down on him, illuminating his hair and making his face sparkle with sweat. The way his arms flex as he drums with expert rhythm, never missing a single beat. The way he sings with fire in his eyes, the lyrics never distracting him from the movement of all his limbs at once.

Fact: Willie is falling for Alex. Hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with only a few key points standing out in Willie’s memory. Being ushered backstage after the show and hugging Alex. Stopping for fast food on the drive home. Alex dropping all his bandmates off at the Molinas even though he’s spending the night with them. Alex telling Willie he dropped his bandmates off first because he wanted some alone time with them.

All too quickly, they’re parked in front of Willie’s house, and it’s never felt particularly welcoming to them before, but tonight the thought of going in and leaving Alex physically hurts.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Willie says, trying to prolong this night as long as possible.

“Not bad for your first concert, huh?” Alex asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Yeah, it was amazing.” Willie debates for a moment, then hesitantly lays their hand over of Alex’s on the wheel, stilling his fidgeting. It sends a shock of electricity through Willie, and they wonder if Alex feels it too. “Thanks for taking me.”

Alex gives them a shy smile and flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together. “Anytime you want.”

Willie smiles back, ducking their head and hoping their hair will hide their blush.

Alex takes a deep breath. “Willie, I—I’m really glad we decided to do this.”

Willie looks up at him with a slight frown. “The concert?”

Alex shakes his head. “This. Us. The whole dance thing and everything. I’m just—I’m really sorry it took me so long to see how amazing you are.”

“You’re pretty amazing yourself, Princey,” Willie grins.

Alex smiles and leans in closer. Willie’s brain kicks into overdrive, because holy shit holy shit are we about to kiss holy SHIT.

Their faces are impossibly close now. Alex’s eyes flutter shut, and Willie feels themself reach out a hand towards Alex’s cheek, and their lips are about to meet—

And then reality comes crashing down, because Willie spots headlights coming down the long cul-de-sac towards them.

“Shit,” they hiss, pulling away from Alex.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Willie really doesn’t have time to take in the wounded look on Alex’s face. “That’s Caleb. You have to go.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Can’t risk it,” Willie says, ripping their seatbelt off. “Try not to let him see you. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

They don’t wait for an answer. They dive out of Alex’s van and sprint inside, flying up to their bedroom. They lock themself in their bathroom and lean against the sink, trying to catch their breath.

They hear the front door open downstairs and Caleb’s keys dropping into the tray next to it. Willie listens and waits until Caleb is halfway up the stairs before flushing the toilet for show and washing their hands. They put on their best “Oh Caleb I didn’t know you were home” face and go out to their bedroom to find Caleb stands in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“How was the opera?” Willie asks.

“Was Alexander here?” Caleb asks bluntly.

“Alexander...?” Willie thanks god they’ve long since perfected feigned naivety.

“Mercer.”

“The kid who quit?”

Caleb shifts impatiently, his frustration twisting his face into a scowl. Willie revels in it. Caleb was the one who taught them how to weaponize the whole pretty-and-dumb schtick. Clearly he never thought Willie would become good enough at it to turn it on him.

“Yes, him. I saw him driving away outside our house.”

“Maybe he has friends in the neighborhood or something,” Willie shrugs. They drop down onto their bed, but they maintain eye contact with Caleb. Anything less and Caleb will immediately think they’re lying.

“Like whom?” Caleb asks.

“How should I know?” Willie says. “In case you don’t remember, we didn’t really get along.”

Caleb huffs and narrows his eyes. “Why are you sweaty?”

“I was rehearsing,” Willie lies easily. Thankfully their outfit for the concert can pass as athletic wear.

Caleb hums like he doesn’t believe them, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps peering at them. Willie doesn’t give him the satisfaction of showing any sign of unease.

“So can I shower now, or are you going to keep staring at me?”

Caleb glares for a moment more before relenting. “Keep it short.”

He stalks away, leaving the door open. Willie gets up to close it, then flops back onto their bed and tries to ignore how fast their heart is beating.

They grab their phone from their pocket and text Alex.

Sry to run off like that. I rly had fun tonight. Lmk when you get to the molinas

When Willie gets out of the shower forty minutes later (they took extra long just to spite Caleb), there’s a response waiting for them.

Home safe. Hope ur okay <3

Willie stares at that little heart until they fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thankfully, Alex doesn’t seem too upset about Willie running off when they meet for their dance lesson on Monday. He greets them with a bright smile and asks, “How was class this weekend?”

“Well Caleb’s still the worst, so there’s that,” Willie says as they lace up their slippers, “but he did show us the costumes he’s ordering for the recital. Mine’s okay, but Carrie’s… dude, you should see her third act costume. The top and the skirt are made out of the same pink chiffon but the skirt fades out to this really pretty blue, and the bodice has these beautiful floral patterns woven into it. And it has gold accents with a bunch of little red gems and—“

Willie looks up to see Alex staring at them, expression unreadable, and Willie cuts themself off. “Sorry,” they say.

“What for?” Alex frowns.

Willie shrugs, trying not to look self-conscious as they put their hair up. “For talking so much? People don’t usually let me go that long.”

Alex shakes his head. “You can talk as much as you want. I like listening to you.”

“Oh,” Willie blinks. “Okay.”

No one’s ever said that to them before. Willie’s only ever been told that they’re too loud, too talkative, too annoying, too much—and that’s when Caleb is being nice. They don’t really know what to do with this. With someone willing to listen.

Alex seems to pick up on their unease. “Tell me more about the costumes,” he prompts.

Willie nods and nervously launches back into descriptions of Carrie’s various costumes, all the while trying to decipher that look on Alex’s face. He’s watching Willie intently, with the corners of his lips quirked up just a little bit. He looks...fond, maybe? Willie’s not exactly sure what that looks like on anyone but Flynn, and with her there’s usually an eye roll involved.

They’re not sure how long they talk for, but suddenly they find themself saying, “I’m kind of jealous, honestly.” They immediately clamp their mouth closed, trying to figure out how their rambling brought them to that confession.

“Of Carrie?” Alex asks.

Willie hesitates. Alex wouldn’t make fun of them for this, right? He hasn’t said a single mean word since they started these lessons. And after Friday night...they think they can trust him.

Willie takes a deep breath and admits, “I’ve always wanted to play Princess Aurora.”

“Really?” Alex asks. He leans forward, seeming to sense the gravity of what Willie’s just told him. “Why didn’t you audition for her instead?”

“Caleb wouldn’t let me.” Willie pulls out their necklace and rubs their thumb over the key. “He says he’s already sticking his neck out by letting me wear the girls’ uniform.”

Alex’s hands curl into fists. “That’s bullshit,” he growls.

Willie shrugs and keeps their eyes on the floor. “Yeah, but there’s not really anything I can do about it.”

“I might have an idea,” Alex says. “Do you know the choreography?”

Willie nods. “I practice it sometimes, after class,” they admit.

“So dance the pas de deux with me,” Alex says.

Willie’s eyebrows shoot up to their hairline. “The—the wedding pas de deux?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods, fixing Willie with another intense, unreadable look. They want nothing more than to become literate in Alex. “You brought your pointe shoes right?”

“I did,” Willie says. “It’s just— that’s like, the hardest dance.”

“Yeah, and? There’s no one here to impress.”

There’s you, Willie thinks, but they nod and start replacing their regular slippers with their pointe shoes anyway.

Willie was right, the dance is hard, and neither of them have rehearsed it enough to be any good at it, but that doesn’t stop them from giggling their way through it. The dance involves Alex’s hands on Willie’s waist a lot, and the sensation makes Willie stumble more than once. Still, they keep going, even when Willie attempts one of the fish-dives into Alex’s arms and Alex nearly drops them face-first onto the floor. By the end of the dance they’re sweating and out of breath and laughing so hard they nearly collapse onto each other.

“So we need to work on that,” Willie giggles.

“Nah, we nailed it,” Alex grins.

That sets off another round of laughter, and some part of Willie’s brain vaguely notes that they’ve never laughed this hard before.

Once their giggles have subsided and they’ve caught their breath, Alex stands and offers a hand to Willie.

“Can we run the beginning one more time?” he asks. “There was one move I was so close to getting, and I want to do it right this time.”

Willie nods and takes their starting position while Alex restarts the music.

Here’s the thing about the pas de deux: there’s a point about a minute in where Aurora and Désiré cross to opposite sides of the stage, then run at each other. Désiré drops down to one knee while Aurora dips into an arabesque that brings her face very close to the prince’s. The idea is that from the audience, it will look like they’re kissing. The first time they did this, Willie was flustered, even though their faces were nowhere near as close as they could have been—should have been, according to the choreography.

This time, however, when Willie gets up en pointe and leans into their arabesque, Alex brings his face up and captures Willie’s lips in his.

It surprises Willie so much that their knee buckles and they careen forward into Alex, taking him down to the ground with them. Willie lands on top of him and immediately rolls off, hiding their face in their hands.

“Oh my god,” they groan. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, and Willie feels him move closer to their side. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I can’t believe I ruined our first meeting and our first kiss because I can’t fucking balance. I’m the worst ballerina ever.”

Alex gently moves Willie’s hands away from their face and smiles down at them. He tucks a strand of hair that has fallen loose from their bun behind their ear and says, “Well, why don’t we just try again?”

“Or,” Willie says, “instead of almost breaking my ankle again, we can just do this?”

They lift a hand to Alex’s cheek and search his eyes for permission. Alex nods, lips already parting, and Willie brings them down to meet theirs.

The fact that Willie is expecting it this time doesn’t make it any less electric. All they can think is Alex Alex Alex Alex and they never want it to end.

It has to, of course, because breathing is an unfortunate necessity, but Alex doesn’t go far when he pulls away. He flops down onto the ground next to Willie and reaches out to grab their hand.

“Hey, Princey?” Willie asks, still trying to catch their breath.

“Hm?” Alex hums, panting as well.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Alex squeezes their hand and props himself up on an elbow to smile at them. “Of course I do, Princess.”

Willie beams back at him, and in that moment they decide breathing is overrated. They pull him back in for another kiss, the rest of their dance lesson completely forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks are the happiest Willie’s ever been. They finally take the leap and start sitting with Alex and Flynn’s friends at lunch, and they welcome Willie in without a second thought. After school, Willie follows Alex to the Molina’s for band rehearsals and general hangouts, and suddenly Willie has more friends than they’ve ever had in their life.

Not to mention the fact that they have a boyfriend, who sneaks them out to go on dates and go to concerts and who listens to them and is just as happy to dance with them or just sit and watch them skate.

For the first time in a very long time, Willie is happy.

But of course, the universe can’t allow that, and it all comes crashing down.

It’s been about a month since their first kiss, and there’s been many since then, but the one Alex gave them when saying goodbye after their dance lesson today just took their breath away. It’s all they can think about as they skate their way home, and they’re so distracted they almost crash into several pedestrians.

Maybe that’s why they don’t notice Caleb’s car in the driveway when they get home. Maybe if they had, they would have skated away and never come back and everything could stay as it was, could stay happy. But Willie’s never that lucky.

“Explain,” Caleb says as soon as Willie’s through the doorway.

They nearly jump out of their skin. Caleb’s never home this early, but here he is in all his glory with a furious grimace on his face. He’s holding up his cell phone, open to Instagram, and Willie’s stomach drops to the floor.

It’s a picture he snapped of Alex during their dance lesson. It’s just his slippers, and Willie might have gotten away with claiming it’s someone else if they hadn’t been so dumb as to caption it “My sweet prince” and tag Alex in it. They had blocked Caleb months ago, but they were honestly so stupid to assume Caleb wouldn’t make a new one that was just inconspicuous enough for Willie to accept the follow request.

“Well?” Caleb asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Willie swallows hard. “I, um—“

“I thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We made up?”

“Mhm,” Caleb hums, taking a step forward. Willie takes two back. “And does making up include teaching him my choreography?”

“I mean, it’s not technically yours—“

“Do you know how much just one of my classes costs, William?”

Willie shakes their head and takes another step back as Caleb comes closer. They’re running out of room, but at least the door is behind them.

“Of course you don’t, you ungrateful idiot,” Caleb snaps. “I give you the finest ballet education in the city for free, at a cost to me, even, and this is how you choose to repay me?”

They could run. The door is right there. They could jump on their board and skate as fast as they can to Flynn’s or the Molinas’ or even the Mercers’ if they’re that desperate and pray Caleb doesn’t come looking.

They must be glancing at the door, because Caleb catches onto their plan and stalks around so he’s blocking the exit.

“Give me your phone,” he demands.

Willie hesitates, and Caleb snaps his fingers loudly right in Willie’s ear, making them flinch. It’s a technique he used to use when Willie was little and acting up. Training, he called it.

Willie pulls their phone out of their pocket and glances down at it. They have just enough time to see a text from Alex on the lock screen before Caleb snatches it out of their hand.

“And your board,” he says, and something snaps inside Willie.

“No.” The word is out of their mouth before they can even think about it. They’ve never said no to Caleb before, and they chose a hell of a time to start. But that board is their everything, their last gift from their mother and their ticket to freedom, and they’ll be damned if they give that up without a fight.

“Excuse me?” Caleb’s eyebrows shoot up, just as surprised as Willie, though far more furious.

“I said no.”

Before Willie can even react, Caleb is wrenching the board form their hands. He grabs it with two hands and brings it about his head, and every muscle in Willie’s body starts to scream.

“No!” They shriek, lunging forward.

They’re too slow. Caleb brings the board down on his knee, and Willie lets out a mournful screech as he drops the broken halves to the ground.

Willie drops to their knees and snatches up the pieces, clutching them tight to their chest. They try not to ever show weakness in front of Caleb, but now they don’t even bother to hold back their deep, ugly sobs. Caleb steps forward and grabs their chin, dragging their face up so they have no choice but to look at him.

“You’re not to see him ever again. Am I understood?”

“You—you don’t get to decide that,” Willie chokes out.

Caleb gives a dark chuckle. “Oh, I think I do. If I ever catch wind of you so much as looking at him again, I’ll tell his father about your little dance lessons.”

“You—you can’t,” Willie gapes. “That’ll—you’ll out him—“

“And you wouldn’t want to be to blame for that, now would you?” Caleb asks, condescending pity in his voice as he pats Willie’s cheek. “Do we have a deal?”

Willie stares up at him through their tears, wondering what cosmic entity they pissed off to get stuck with the most homophobic gay man in LA as a sorry excuse for a father.

“Do we have a deal?” Caleb repeats pointedly.

Willie nods, and Caleb gives him a winning smile.

“I’m glad we came to an understanding.” He strokes Willie’s hair once, sending a shudder down their spine, then steps back and waves their phone at them. “Don’t worry. I’ll inform Alexander that your little fling is over.”

He strides off towards his office, leaving Willie on the floor, just as shattered as the broken skateboard they hug to their chest.

Chapter Text

Alex stares at his phone, not quite comprehending the message displayed on it.

We’re over. Don’t talk to me anymore.

He’s already called Willie five times and sent about a billion texts asking why and what he’s done wrong and if they’re okay, all to no answer. So now he sits on his bed, wracking his brain for what could have possibly changed between now and when he kissed Willie goodbye two hours ago.

He thought things were going well. Better than well, actually. Willie was going to come to dinner to meet Trevor and Ray this weekend, a huge step for the both of them. And even though it’s only been a month, Alex has felt himself teetering closer to the L word with every passing day. There’s just something about being with Willie that feels right; like their souls are intertwined.

Or were intertwined, because apparently now Willie wants absolutely nothing to do with him, and he has no idea why.

He still goes to the Wilsons’ on Saturday, but instead of a Meet-My-Partner Family Dinner, Trevor gets several tubs of ice cream and Alex wedges himself between Bobby and Reggie and cries while Carrie paces and threatens to unleash hell on Willie. Alex appreciates the passion, but it’s really not helping.

“I just don’t know what I did,” he whines for the fiftieth time since coming over.

Reggie runs a hand through Alex’s hair while Bobby replaces the empty tub of ice cream in Alex’s hand with a full one.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bobby says. “They’re the one who ghosted you without an explanation.”

Reggie nods in agreement. “If they don’t even have the decency to explain then they weren’t for you anyway. There’ll be others, people who actually respect you and communicate.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex mutters halfheartedly as he shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He knows Reggie is earnest, but the thing is that Willie was respectful. They did communicate with Alex, and the two of them told each other things they’d never told anyone else. That text message sounded nothing like the Willie Alex knows.

Maybe he just doesn’t know Willie as well as he thought.

“I tried to talk to them at dance today,” Carrie says. “They wouldn’t even look at me.”

“That’s gotta make duetting hard,” Reggie muses, and Bobby reaches around Alex to thump the back of Reggie’s head. “What?” Reggie asks. Bobby shakes his head, just barely hiding a fond smile.

Alex sighs and leans his head onto Reggie’s shoulder. “Flynn says they’re not answering her either.”

Trevor comes back into the living room and drops a fresh box of tissues on the coffee table. “You should talk to them at school,” he says. “Demand an explanation.”

“I guess,” Alex mutters.

“I’m serious,” Trevor says. “You deserve better.”

Bobby’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out to read it. “It’s Luke. He wants to know if he’s allowed to come over now if he promises not to talk about music.”

“Only if he brings Julie and Flynn,” Alex huffs. He loves Luke to death, but the boy sucks at comforting people and it’s going to take the combined forces of Flynn and Julie to keep him tactful.

The trio arrives about twenty minutes later, and Alex relaxes a bit in the presence of all his friends. They spend the rest of the evening watching all his favorite movies, and while he appreciates the efforts of his friends, it does little to calm the growing dread in his stomach at the thought of confronting Willie on Monday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Alex gets to school, he makes a beeline for Willie’s locker. He’s early, like always, and Willie tends to be cutting it close to first period on a good day, so he’s stuck waiting there for what feels like an eternity when it’s really probably only twenty minutes. He tries to keep his breathing steady while he waits, remembering the grounding exercises Dr. Turner taught him. It sort of works, in that he isn’t hyperventilating, but no amount of deep breaths will ease the way his stomach twists and his heart pounds like it’s trying to escape his chest.

Alex is about to give up and go to his first class when he catches sight of Willie coming towards their locker. That is, until they see Alex, and then they spin on their heels and speed walk away.

“Willie, wait!” Alex calls, jogging to catch up. Willie speeds up, but Alex is faster. He grabs the sleeve of their sweater, pulling them around to face him. Alex notes that their eyes are red and puffy, like they’ve been crying, and for the first time since Alex met them their board is nowhere to be seen.

“What’s your problem?” Alex demands. “You can’t just dump me with no explanation.”

Willie tries to step around him, keeping their head low to avoid his eyes. “I wish I could explain man, but I can’t.”

Alex moves to block their path. “That’s not good enough.” Willie winces, but Alex pushes on. “I thought we had something special.”

Willie’s face crumples, and Alex knows them well enough to know they’re fighting back tears. “We never should have met,” they whisper.

Whatever Alex was expecting Willie to say, it’s not that. He takes a step back. “Wow, that hurts.”

“I’m sorry Alex, I really am,” Willie says, eyes scanning the students around them. “You’re a great guy, but I can’t—“ Their eyes land on something and their breath hitches, face filling with a fear Alex has only seen when Caleb nearly caught them after the concert. “I gotta go.”

They push past Alex, leaving him stunned and stranded in the middle of the hallway. He looks around to try to find what scared Willie away, but all he finds is a guy from their dance class, Dante, watching from across the hall. When Alex’s eyes meet his, he scurries away.

The first period bell rings and Alex thanks the heavens that he has music first period. All he wants to do right now is wail on the drums until the skins break; punch holes in them until they match the holes in his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willie had only been sitting with them at lunch for a month, but the table feels empty without them. Alex takes his seat between Luke and what should be Willie’s chair, eyeing the table where Willie now sits alone. They’re hunched over so their hair forms a curtain around their face, making it impossible for Alex to tell what they might be thinking.

Luke follows Alex’s gaze and pats him on the shoulder. “Forget about them, man,” he says. “They don’t deserve you.”

Alex just shrugs and looks down at his tray. The cafeteria food is less than appetizing on a good day. Today, Alex feels like throwing up at the thought of even taking a bite.

“Okay,” Flynn declares, slamming their hands on the table and making everyone jump. “I’m going over there.”

Alex shakes his head. “Flynn—“

“No,” she argues. “The Willie I know would never do this. Something has to be wrong. I don’t know if it’s Caleb, or what, but I’m going to find out.”

They shoot Alex a look that clearly reads no arguments and march over to Willie’s table.

Alex watches as Willie glances up at her, registers who it is, and resolutely turns away. They’re too far away to hear, but Alex sees Flynn waving her hands and gesturing back at their table, while Willie shakes their head, never looking up at her. Flynn’s gestures get bigger and more insistent, until Willie stands and snaps loud enough for Alex to hear, “I just can’t, Flynn, okay?”

They turn their gaze to meet Alex’s, and he watches as their eyes fill with the most intense pain Alex has ever seen in them.

“I’m just trying to protect him,” Willie says, much quieter. Alex isn’t entirely sure if he heard correctly, but before he can figure that out, let alone react, Willie is storming out of the cafeteria.

Alex stands to follow, but Flynn comes back to the table and puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alex.”

“What did they mean?” Alex demands. “What are they trying to protect me from?”

“I don’t know,” Flynn says slowly, “but they seemed terrified, and they only get that way when Caleb’s holding something over them.”

“If that’s what it is then why wouldn’t they tell me? I could help them figure it out.”

Flynn sighs and tugs Alex away from the table and their friends’ eager ears.

“Listen,” they begin quietly, but in their Serious Manager tone, “I’ve been Willie’s only friend for years. I’ve seen the things Caleb’s capable of. If Willie is that scared of talking to you, then it means talking to you is going to get them punished, and not in a grounded-for-a-week type of way.”

Despite his anger, Alex feels sick at the confirmation of what he’s suspected for a while. Willie always gets cagey when Caleb comes up, quickly deflecting the subject. It’s the only boundary they’ve set; they’re willing to tell Alex anything else about themself, as long as it’s nothing to do with their adoptive father.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Alex asks, the anger leaving his voice and being replaced by desperation. “Just never talk to them again? Go my whole life knowing the person I lo— I care about is being threatened and I didn’t do anything about it?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Flynn says, and Alex can hear in her voice that she’s been grappling with the same questions for years. “I think the best thing to do for now is give Willie some space and let them ride this out. Caleb, he’s—he’s manipulative. Sometimes he’ll lift threats and make it seem like a reward. When it’s safe to talk to you again, they’ll come back, and we can figure it out from there.”

“There has to be something more we can do,” Alex says, running a hand through his hair.

“I’ll try to talk to them again,” Flynn promises. “But for now the best thing you can do for Willie is stay away from them.”

God, Alex hates that, but if Willie’s in danger the last thing he wants to do is make it worse. He just prays that they’ll talk to Flynn eventually and let them help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He calls an emergency band practice after school, because if he wanted to beat the shit out of his drums before, now he’s going to play them until they break. Preferably with a picture of Caleb’s face taped to them.

He spent the rest of the school day stewing in his anger towards Caleb, eyeing Willie from across rooms, his heart breaking little more each time they met his eyes only to look away.

His bandmates don’t say anything as he unleashes that anger on his drums; they just match their tempos to him as best they can until he outpaces them and they fall away to let him have his angry solo.

“Alex, you good, man?” Luke asks once he’s worked all the energy out of his system, face flushed and panting.

“Fine,” Alex huffs, and Luke exchanges a skeptical glance with the rest of their bandmates.

Reggie steps forward, a hesitant smile on his face. “I know it’s tough man, but I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex sighs. Right now that feels like the furthest thing from the truth, but Alex appreciates the effort. He knows Reggie won’t say it, but this whole situation is probably bringing up a lot of trauma for him. From what Alex and the boys have been able to gather, his home life before the Molinas adopted him was a living nightmare. It just makes Alex’s heart hurt worse, knowing someone else he cares about is going through something similar.

“Do you wanna take it from the top of ‘Great?’” Alex asks, hoping music will distract everyone’s attention from him.

Luke nods and motions for Alex to count them in just as Flynn’s phone starts to ring. She quickly hops off the couch and runs outside the studio to answer it, leaving the band to start their rehearsal.

They only get to the first pre-chorus, however, before Flynn’s running back in, a frantic look in their eyes as she waves for the band to stop.

“Alex, get your keys,” she calls. “We have to go now.”

“What?” Alex throws his sticks to the ground as he stands, a spike of anxiety shooting through him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Willie, I’ll explain in the car, but we have to go.”

Alex starts moving on It’s Willie. Without a second glance towards his band he grabs his fanny pack from the ground beneath his stool and rips his keys out of it before pulling Flynn out to his van.

“Where am I going?” he asks as he starts the engine sputters to life.

“They said a skatepark about half a mile from their house.”

Alex knows the one. He’s spent more than a few sunny afternoons there with Willie, just watching their hair blow in the breeze as they show off all their tricks. He sets off on their course, letting muscle memory take over so he can devote his full brain power to worrying about whatever the hell is going on.

“Can you tell me what’s happening?” he asks once it becomes clear that Flynn isn’t going to offer the information up voluntarily.

She startles from where she’s staring out the window and cheering her nail. “I think it might be best if Willie explains most of it,” they say, “but I think you could both be in trouble with your dads.”

Alex wants to ask so many questions—why and how and what and when—but a frigid boulder of fear pins them down in the pit of his stomach. Neither he nor Flynn say anything more until they’ve pulled into a parking lot near the skatepark. Willie is already waiting there, sitting on the curb with their knees pulled up to their chest and their head tucked into their arms.

“Willie?” Alex calls as soon as he’s out of the car.

Willie’s head snaps up, and in an instant they’re throwing themself into Alex’s arms. Alex stumbles a bit from the impact, then wraps his arms tight around them.

“I’m sorry,” they gasp, tears flowing down their cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” Alex asks.

“Caleb,” Willie sobs. “He said if I ever saw you again he’d tell your dad about the dance lessons.”

Alex sucks in a sharp breath, that cold boulder in his stomach growing about six sizes.

Willie pulls away from Alex, wrapping their arms around themself. “I thought—I thought if I made you hate me again you’d stay away but Dante saw you talking to me this morning and told him so it doesn’t matter and I’m so sorry.”

Alex blinks, taking this in. He’d thought the way Dante was watching them that morning was weird, but he didn’t really know enough about the kid to be worried. Apparently all he needs to know is that he’s a sellout and a snitch.

“Okay,” Alex says, more just to force himself to speak than anything. “Okay. What’s happening now?”

“He’s on his way to your house,” Willie whispers. “Alex, I’m so sorry.”

Any remaining composure Alex has left flies out the window at the thought of Caleb Covington on his way to see Alex’s father.

“Oh my god,” Alex breathes, the wind completely knocked out of him. “He’s gonna kill me, I—“ He bends over, desperately sucking in deep breaths, and he feels a supportive hand land on his back but he can’t tell if it’s Flynn or Willie. “What do I do?”

“Maybe we can try and beat him there?” Flynn suggests. “Convince your dad Caleb’s lying somehow?”

“He’ll never believe me.” Alex shakes his head and lowers himself the rest of the way to the ground. The hand on his back shifts with him, and he glances up to see Willie settling on the curb next to him, their hand gently rubbing his shoulder blades. Their presence quiets part of Alex’s mind, like it always does, and the angry storm of thoughts subsides just long enough for Alex to get a proper look at Willie for the first time since arriving.

“Willie,” he whispers, “where’s your board?”

Willie’s hand stills on his back, their fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Caleb broke it.”

They sound so shattered when they say it, and something near Alex’s heart shatters with it. The anxiety ebbs away only to be replaced with a tide of righteous anger. Their fathers have taken away everything, and Alex is sick of it. He’s done. He’s going to take it all back, and he’ll be damned if Michael Mercer or Caleb Covington stand in his way.

He sucks in a deep breath and stands, setting his shoulders with a confidence foreign to him anywhere but behind a drum set. “Everyone get in the van.”

Willie gapes up at him. “Alex?”

“I’m not letting him control me anymore,” Alex says, reaching down to help Willie to their feet. “I’m gonna tell him about the lessons, and about us, and then I’m going to Trevor’s and I’m never setting foot in that hell hole again, and I want you to come with me.”

“Alex, are you sure?” Flynn asks while Willie just stares, mouth hanging slightly open.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” Alex says, though of course there are doubts creeping into his mind, like how his father will respond and if Trevor will even be willing to take him in. He pushes those thoughts away with the knowledge that he’s had a long-standing invitation to stay with both the Wilsons and the Molinas for years and turns to Willie. “Will you come?”

Willie shifts, rubbing their thumb on their arm. “I don’t… I don’t know what Caleb will do to me if I try to interfere.”

Alex takes their hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs across the back of them. “Then come with me to Trevor’s, too. We can figure it all out. You can’t go back home, Willie. Not if you’re this scared of him.”

Willie searches Alex’s eyes, and Alex bites his lip as their silence stretches on. He knows they’ve only been dating a month and they still haven’t talked about the whole breakup mess. This is a monumental, life-changing thing to ask, but Alex won’t be able to live with himself if Willie goes back to that house, even if their relationship is something Willie genuinely doesn’t want to continue. He just wants them to be safe.

“Okay,” Willie nods, finally, and Alex gives him a relieved grin.

“Flynn, are you coming?”

She shakes her head. “I’ll call Trevor and let him know what’s going on. Bobby or Carrie can pick me up from here and we’ll get everything figured out.”

“Thank you.” Alex pulls them into a tight hug. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Flynn says, their usual sarcasm replaced by something more wistful. She squeezes Alex tight, then separates from him and pulls Willie into their own hug. “Good luck.”

Alex gives her one more quick hug before getting into the van. They sit in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, Alex tapping a frantic beat on the steering wheel while Willie stares at their shoes like they’re trying to burn a hole in them.

Finally, when the silence verges on painful, Willie speaks.

“I’m sorry,” they say. “I was trying to protect you. That breakup text wasn’t from me, Caleb wrote it. But I didn’t tell you the truth because I thought if you knew you’d keep trying to help me and Caleb would find out.”

“Well,” Alex shrugs. “You were right.”

He reaches over and takes Willie’s hand, and they look up at him in surprise.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Willie,” he says. “If that’s what you still want.”

“I do,” Willie nods immediately, pulling Alex’s hand close to their chest. “Of course I do. Alex, I love you.”

Despite how shitty everything about this situation is, a massive smile splits Alex’s face. “I love you too.”

They have each other. They have their love, and that’s all they need. They’ll figure everything else from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alex pulls into his driveway, Caleb’s car is already there.

“Are you sure about this?” Willie asks.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “You?”

Willie nods.

“Okay then,” Alex sighs. He gives Willie’s hand a quick squeeze and drops if before getting out of the van and marching up the path to the front door. Willie follows closely behind, hovering behind Alex as he takes a deep breath and shoves the door open.

Caleb is sitting at the dining table with Alex’s father, and Alex’s heart leaps into his throat at the sight. Michael looks like he’s about to explode, his shoulders scrunched up to his ears and a vein throbbing in his temple, while Caleb simply sweeps his cold gaze over the two kids from where he reclines in his seat.

“Hello, Alexander,” Caleb smirks. “Ah, and William too. How convenient.”

“Explain yourself.” Michael barks. “Now.”

Alex takes a deep breath and glances at Willie, who has gone pale. Their eyes flicker over to him, and their face falls into a determined grimace. They nod, and Alex turns back to his father.

“I love ballet,” he begins. “It’s my passion, I wasn’t going to let you take that away from me. I’m not sorry about it. And doing ballet doesn’t make me gay, like you were so terrified of, but that doesn’t matter because I am. I’m gay, and this is my partner Willie. I love them, and I’m done caring even a little bit what you think about it.”

“Get out,” Michael growls, face redder than Alex has ever seen it. “Now!” he screams.

“With pleasure.”

Alex grabs Willie’s hand and starts to march towards the door, but Caleb’s voice stops them in their tracks.

“And where do you think you’re going, William?”

Willie closes their eyes and takes a moment to steel themself before turning to face Caleb with a fire in their eyes Alex has never seen before.

“I’m done,” Willie says. “I’m done letting you lie and manipulate and use me. I deserve better. I deserve to be happy, and I’m never going to get that as long as you’re a part of my life. So I’m leaving. Goodbye, Caleb.”

Before Caleb can respond, Willie tugs Alex out the front door.

As soon as the door closes behind them, they both let out deep breaths.

“Holy shit,” Alex groans.

“Yeah,” Willie nods, and then a little hysterical giggle escapes their throat, and before Alex knows it he’s laughing too. It’s maybe not the appropriate reaction for having just essentially disowned their families but Alex knows if he stops laughing he’ll cry, so he’ll take the former.

“Come on,” Alex gasps between giggles, “Caleb can’t be too far behind us.”

They clamber into the van and Alex guns it, and it’s not until they’re a solid quarter mile away that Willie’s laughter finally subsides. Alex glances over at them to find tears streaking down their cheeks.

“Hey,” Alex says softly, reaching over to wipe the tears away. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Willie covers Alex’s hand with their own. “I know.” They lace their fingers together and bring their hands down to their lap. “I can’t believe I’m free from him.”

“Me neither,” Alex whispers. It’s like the whole world has opened up around him, now that he’s finally free of his father’s crushing expectations. From the way Willie looks out the window like they’re seeing the world for the first time, they’re probably feeling the same way.

The drive to Trevor’s mansion feels like it takes ages, but when they get there he welcomes them both with tight bear hugs and the promise that he’s proud of them and will take care of them for as long as they need. The rest of their friends are waiting for them too with ice cream and movies and cuddles, and while Alex and Willie are definitely not alright, they look around at their new family and know that they definitely will be.

~~~~~~~~Eight months later~~~~~~~~

Alex has a very long list of things he needs to worry about today. He needs to worry about being on time to his first dance class at his new studio. He needs to worry about impressing his new teacher, who thankfully, is nowhere near as strict as the last, but he still wants to make a good first impression. And most of all, he needs to worry about the fact that he’s going back into an advanced class after months of only dancing with Willie.

“I can hear you overthinking, Princey,” Willie says, nudging his shoulder playfully. “It’s gonna be great. Besides, this time you don’t have a massive hole in your tights.”

“Yeah,” Alex laughs, “thanks for not running me over today.”

“I still could, if you want,” Willie offers, holding up the new skateboard Trevor got for them only days after they moved in.

“Tempting offer, but I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Willie shrugs. “You ready?”

Alex takes a deep breath and grabs Willie’s hand. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Willie grins and places a quick kiss on Alex’s cheek before tugging him into the studio. There’s a woman in her mid-forties setting up the music, and she turns to them with a kind smile when they enter.

“You must be Alex and Willie.”

“That’s us, ma’am,” Willie says.

“It’s a pleasure to have you,” she says. “I’m Miss Abigail.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex says, shaking her offered hand.

“We’ll start warm ups in a few minutes, but feel free to start mingling with the class.”

Alex nods and glances at Willie, who’s biting their lip like they want to say something but think they shouldn’t, and Alex knows exactly what it is.

“Um, Miss?” Alex asks, and Abigail turns her attention back to them. “We heard this class was doing The Nutcracker, is that correct?”

“It is,” Abigail nods.

Alex squeezes Willie’s hand. “Willie’s interested in auditioning for Clara. Would it be possible for them to do that?”

“Of course,” Abigail smiles. “We welcome students to try out for any part they desire.”

Alex grins as Willie’s face lights up, and as soon as Abigail turns her back to them he pulls Willie into a kiss.

Willie smiles and rests their forehead on Alex’s. “Those leads are so ours.”

“Oh yeah,” Alex laughs. “No competition.”