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Subject: Dreamin About my Cuz - Chapter 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This story is completely fictional. Any resemblance by name or description to anyone dead or alive is totally coincidental. This is a story about a boy having a crush on his cousin. If this offends you, if you are not of legal age or if this content is not legal inyour area, please do not read this. If you have comments, please email me at ail. If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating to . Their hard work helps us all enjoy these stories. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 5 Year 2 July 5th *quot;We welcome you to the Summer Ballet Theater!*quot; Mrs. Healy, the studio owner, proudly proclaims, and the audience politely applauds. I stand in the wings of the stage, peering out in the audience. I think I have spotted where my family, particularly Jeffers, is sitting. I'm sure I'm going to stay here through the rest of the night, except for costume changes, because I'm sure he can't see me. It's dark back here, and the lights are all pointed at the stage. I look down and adjust my costume. I'm a prince for the opening number. I'm wearing a blue sequined vest over a white shirt with really poofy sleeves. Fuck, these are poofy! These seem like... twice as poofy as I remember from dress rehearsal. I wonder what Jeffers will think of these stupid fucking poofy sleeves. Is he going to make fun of them? Is he going to make fun of ballet? Is he going to make fun of me? I hate this fucking costume. Mrs. Healy drones on and on in her introduction, and I look down to see how my crotchal area is doing. I'm wearing thin white tights underneath silver leggings that end just below my knee. When I'm wearing a costume that's really tight and has nothing to hide my dick, I always have a hard time deciding what to do with it. It's still visible under my dance belt even if I leave it alone. There's always the outline showing, and everyone knows exactly how long my flaccid penis is. If I leave it as-is, there's always the chance that I could get a boner, which would be the greatest disaster in the history of the world. It hasn't ever happened to me at a performance, but this is the first performance where Jeffers is in the audience. Today, I've decided to go with the tuck-and-tape method. The downside is that I look like a doll when you pull down its pants. At least Jeffers knows I have a dick... since he jerked it off. Maybe he'll just think I stowed it away for later use. We haven't jerked each other off this trip. I'm still giving Jeffers the cold shoulder. Actually, I'm being a complete asshole. I sigh, wishing I knew how to stop... but every time I see him, I just think about all those agonizing nights when I thrashed around in my bed, not being able to sleep. I just wanted ONE TEXT... one text to make my life. I read online about a book called, *quot;The Secret.*quot; The whole thing about it is, if you believe, just pray to the universe for anything you want. Then, the universe will eventually grant your wish. I prayed to that fucker every night for MONTHS really hard... no texts. Fuck the motherfucking universe. Now, I'm making Jeffers pay since I haven't figured out how to stab the universe in the balls. He's not being a dick in return, and he's not giving up. He keeps trying to play around with me the way we used to. I politely smile and humor him for a couple of minutes, like I'm an adult and he's a toddler, and then I find an excuse to just walk away. I make sure not to go to my bedroom until I'm almost asleep so we don't have any alone time in the bedroom, either. I've been paying a lot more attention to my other cousins and my own family this time, and Mom escort bayan has actually been complimenting me on how social I'm being. None of them have even noticed that my relationship with Jeffers is WAY different. *quot;And lastly,*quot; Mrs. Healy says before the microphone screeches. She's two hundred years old, and she still never learned how to use a fucking microphone. *quot;I ask everyone to hold their applause to FIVE SECONDS between numbers for the entirety of the performance. I ask you to please NOT stand until the very end of the night, and then we can honor ALL of the hard-working dancers at that time.*quot; In previous recitals, a competition started between parents because they wanted their child to have the longest standing ovation. Every fucking number got a long ovation, and it was getting to the point that some people were trying to sneak in and out of the theater because the whole recital got way too long. Seeing and hearing the theater doors open and close is really distracting for us when we're on stage. *quot;My videographer shared with me that during our Winter Recital, the entire performance lasted over four hours, including fifty-three minutes of applause!*quot; she scolds. The audience laughs and groans. But now, I have to focus. I'm on in seconds. I take a deep breath and head onstage. I dance the opening number proudly, keeping the appropriate, confident smile of a young prince on my face. As the number ends, the audience claps enthusiastically for the five seconds that are allowed, and as they fall silent, I hear Jeffers. *quot;Yeah! WOO!*quot; It's not the standard cheer for a ballet number, but it's perfect. I hear a few people in the audience giggle as Mrs. Healy announces the next group. My next number isn't going to be for another two hours at least. I can go get some water and think about my first costume change, but I stay planted in the wings, watching the area where Jeffers is sitting. I know I shouldn't be hurt if he gets up to leave during a dance of twelve little girls in sunflower costumes. I know I shouldn't be hurt if I see the faint glow of his cell phone in his lap. It's just that it WOULD hurt. It's like he'd be disrespecting what I do. It's not like a ton of moms and dads out in the audience aren't stepping away or sneaking out their phones, either. I just need him NOT to do it. I watch his area intently for nine or ten dances, and I'm finally satisfied that I can go get changed. My next costume is a 19th century street urchin, so I pull some tattered britches over my tights and get the make-up lady to smear some brown stuff on my face to make it look dirty. *quot;That's FINE!*quot; I say, jumping out of the makeup chair impatiently and sprinting back to the wings. Everything looks the same as when I left, but it's just too dark to be sure that Jeffers is still in his seat. I wait two more numbers, and then the lights come on to signal the intermission. I'm relieved as I see him stand with the rest of the family. He takes his phone out of his pocket, which is a good sign. He wasn't holding it in his lap. He lets Xavier jump on his back, and they run up the aisle to the lobby, smiling and laughing. So far so good. I make sure to stay hidden as he comes back to his seat. With the lights on everywhere during the intermission, he could see me if he looks in my direction. He continues to talk to everyone around him, and he has a big smile on his face. Maybe he's talking about me. He points to the program. He must know I'm in the next number. I take a deep breath and head out for my second dance. This one has a lot more leaps, and I have to catch some girls who throw themselves through the air. This number always leaves me winded at practice, but I make it through without any mistakes. The applause sounds louder than kocaeli escort bayan other numbers, and I smile humbly as I bow. *quot;Coley-Poley! WOO!*quot; I hear Jeffers again as the noise dies down, and the audience really laughs this time. I should be furious, but I'm smiling uncontrollably. He's such a doofus... and I'm starting to melt. I run back to the changing rooms and start putting on my wolf costume. It's actually not bad for a ballet costume. I really do look like a wolf. It's a one-piece that covers my body, and it gets pretty warm under the stage lights. Still, I keep my tights on underneath. I don't want my carefully applied tape to come off, and I just couldn't dance without them on. There are only three dances in between my street urchin and my wolf dance, so I have a bunch of stage helpers to make sure I'm dressed and ready. I arrive back in the wings just as Mrs. Healy introduces my solo. *quot;WOO!*quot; I hear Jeffers's voice above the rest of the crowd, and I'm filled with confidence... I'm filled with HIS confidence. It's seeping into me again even though he's out in the audience. I feel more amazing than I ever have starting a dance. I nail every movement, and I gain even more confidence as the dance progresses. I hear the audience gasp a few times, as I pull off some daring jumps. As I stop in the final pose, I know I've never danced this solo any better, and I've done it over a hundred times at practice. My face is pointing in the direction of my family, and my heart sinks as I see Jeffers stand up to leave. That prick couldn't even wait until I'm off the stage before he leaves the theater? I look back to the center of the audience with a sigh of disgust and bow politely. Then, I hear him. *quot;Yeah! Yeah! WOO! Coley-Poley!*quot; I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. I look back at him, and he's the only one giving me a standing ovation. The rest of the applause dies down as Mrs. Healy clomps back onstage to announce the next number. I still see and hear Jeffers applauding as I trot offstage. *quot;May I remind everyone that we are limiting each number to FIVE seconds of applause? I ask that we respect all-*quot; *quot;GET OFF THE STAGE!*quot; Jeffers yells, and the entire audience erupts into a very short, pointed and awkward laugh. *quot;Y-yes, well,*quot; she stammers. *quot;Please enjoy our seven-year-old tap class in 'Puttin' on the Ritz'!*quot; I stand in the wings, completely stunned. My heart is beating faster than it ever has, and my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. I can't believe how well I danced, and I can't believe how much I love Jeffers right now. He couldn't have been more supportive through this entire night. I want to drop this whole being-a-dick act. I want to really enjoy the rest of his visit, especially now, after my performance went so well. I just wouldn't be able to live through another year of nothing from him. My heart, my brain, and my guts couldn't take it. I want so badly to text him... or tell him to text me, but I'd never know if he would have done it regardless. I'd never know if he REALLY wanted to stay in touch. I walk backstage and pry off my costume while people congratulate me and pat me on the shoulder over and over. I thank everyone before finally sneaking back to the changing room. I smile, thinking about Olivia and McKenzie. We had a ritual of all going out for ice cream in our tights after every recital. I pull on a tank top and my favorite gray hoodie. I pull on my knee-length cut-off warm-up sweat pants over my tights and my most comfortable, most beat-up, most broken-in running shoes to cushion my aching feet. It's a strange outfit to wear out in public with white tights, but somehow, I have to. It's not that I'm exactly doing it in memoriam of Olivia and kocaeli escort McKenzie's ballet careers or our friendship... it's more that I'm showing I can do it without them... that I don't need them. I wander out to the lobby with all the other dancers after the final curtain to mingle with the families. As soon as Jeffers sees me, he runs over to me for a hug. I pat him on the shoulder and hold my breath, hoping I don't get hard. *quot;Dude,*quot; he says quietly into my ear, so no one else can hear. *quot;That was absolutely BRUTAL.*quot; *quot;Huh?*quot; I was so ready for a compliment, like I've been getting from everyone else. His last word echoes in my head and completely breaks my heart. *quot;Except for maybe... three dances,*quot; he pulls back and smiles with satisfaction. *quot;Oh... you must've really liked that one with the kindergarten girls dancing around the Maypole!*quot; I say, crossing my arms. *quot;Yeah, that's totally my jam.*quot; He leans his head back and groans. After I receive tons of compliments from people I've never met, our families finally head for the ice cream shop. I don't ever really eat ice cream unless it's after a performance, but it tastes SO fucking good the night of a recital. I never have it at home unless it's a scoop of vanilla on a piece of pie or cake... and I always just concentrate on the pie or cake. Ice cream after a recital is just a completely different experience. Xavier and Hannah scream with glee and run to the counter as we enter, ignoring the line. I check the huge menu for my selection. I decide on a cookies-n-cream sundae with hot fudge and lots of whipped cream and crushed Oreo topping. I turn around to ask Jeffers what he's going to get, but he's gone. I swallow my words and look around for him, then pull out my phone so that I don't look too obvious or desperate. *quot;Lookin' good!*quot; Jocelyn whistles, and I turn around and see him coming out of the bathroom with a big smile. He's changed out of his jeans into black basketball shorts and tights... white tights... MY white tights. He's also wearing black socks over the tights and black cross trainers. *quot;You look like an Oreo,*quot; I laugh, trying not to stare at his legs. He looks SO fucking amazing in tights. *quot;You getting Oreo?*quot; he asks with one eyebrow raised. *quot;Maybe.*quot; *quot;Your mom told me that you and the girls had a tradition, and I just thought... since they weren't going to be here, and I didn't want you to be the only one-*quot; *quot;I get it... thanks.*quot; I smile, trying to communicate with my eyes how happy I am with him. He instantly gets it. *quot;You sure have the legs for ballet.*quot; *quot;Really?*quot; He does a pli?, and everyone laughs and claps. He makes a flying leap and cuts in front of me in line, and I try to shove him behind me... but I'm happy to let him go first. It's amazing how comfortable he is in tights. I wear them all the time, and I was nervous to wear them out in public without the girls to give them some context. He acts like it's no big deal at all, and he makes me totally comfortable... as always. He's doing everything right. I can't imagine him being better during this visit, and I can't imagine myself being worse. The freeze-out is over. During the ride home, he sits next to me in the backseat, and he lets his leg touch mine. The smooth fabric of his tights slides against mine, and he leaves his leg resting against mine so that the side of our calves are kissing. We sit there, looking at our phones, swaying back and forth slightly as the car turns, but he keeps the contact going, just below the knee. My heart is beating even louder than after my wolf dance. I know something's going to happen tonight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you'd like to see what I think Cole and Jeffers look like, email me your thoughts on the story at ail and I will send you G-rated pics. Check out my other stories on : Backdoor Slider: fty//gay/athletics/backdoor-slider/ Mason in the Center: fty//gay/incest/mason-in-the-center/ We Have the Summer: fty//gay/incest/we-have-the-summer/