Arthur was nervous. Today was the second rehearsal for The Sleeping Beauty, in which Arthur was starring alongside his onstage Prince, Alfred F. Jones - the impossibly beautiful man. The first rehearsal had went well. It had almost gone too well. Arthur knew he had to do everything in his power to make sure the second rehearsal went just as well.

He had reserved one of the smaller studios in the building for the hour before rehearsal started. He had to make sure he was sufficiently warmed up, as well as practice what he had already rehearsed to make sure it was even better this time. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart racing at the sheer thought of doing something wrong in front of all the people who had hired him. Relax, he told himself as he was putting on his pointe shoes. The worst thing you can do right now is panic. And then the worst possible thing happened: he looked up and saw Alfred F. Jones, in the doorway of his reserved studio, staring at him.

Arthur was frozen, stiff, completely unsure what to say. After a moment of just staring at each other, Alfred finally spoke. "... What are you doing here?"

Arthur frowned. "I reserved the studio." Alfred's expression quickly mirrored Arthur's.

"What? You can do that?"

Confused, Arthur gave a slow nod. Hadn't Alfred worked at the NYCB for over a year?

"Really?" Alfred smirked a little, leaning on the wall. "I had no idea. So weird. Sorry for interrupting then, I guess. There's usually no one in here, so I jus' kinda use it to warm up and stuff..."

Arthur hesitated. He could take this moment or leave it. He needed to relax and do his best to get ready for the rehearsal, that was for sure. But judging by his reaction when Alfred simply looked at him, a moment alone with his co-star could reverse even an hour of warming up his body.

"You can warm up with me if you'd like," Arthur found himself saying, despite the cold ice that seemed to be invading his veins and the hot blush crawling up his face.

Alfred seemed surprised. "Oh, are you sure? You reserved the studio, and I know a lot of people like to do this stuff alone-"

"It's fine," Arthur snapped, not wanting to think too much about it for fear of regretting his decision. "Now come in, close the door."

Alfred smiled, doing so. "Alright. Thanks, Artie." Arthur grimaced.

"Call me that again, and you're out of here." Arthur turned back to his pointe shoes, continuing to tie them around his ankles.

"Aw!" Alfred pouted. "You don't like nicknames?"

"No," Arthur practically growled.

Alfred put his bag down next to Arthur, smiling. "Don't be lame. We just have to find the right one for you." Arthur rolled his eyes.

They soon got to stretching on the barre. Alfred gave Arthur his personal space, which Arthur was glad for. If Alfred had chosen to stretch alongside him, Arthur definitely would have been much more focused on those amazing thighs.

Arthur was soon finished with his barre warm up. He wanted to move on to stretching his back and practicing his arabesques. He'd experienced some previous minor back injuries and wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong today. About halfway through his back routine, he began to feel tension in his lower back. He nervously looked at Alfred: the American was still at the barre, looking a bit spacey as he leaned over his extended leg.

"A-Alfred?" Arthur asked his attention, anxiety clear in his voice. Alfred quickly looked to him.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you might help me with these back stretches. I-I've had back injuries before and I'm-"

"Oh, dude, totally! Don't worry about it!" Alfred easily lifted his leg off the barre and bounded towards Arthur. "What do you want me to do?"

Arthur hesitated before lying down with his stomach to the floor. "Would you mind pushing my leg towards me?" Arthur lifted his leg from the ground and quickly found Alfred's reassuring grip.

"Yeah, yeah, for sure." Alfred gently pushed Arthur's leg forward, further and further until Arthur audibly grimaced.

"All good?" Alfred asked, attempting to see Arthur's face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Arthur managed, his voice strained. "Let me change legs." He quickly switched legs and Alfred helped him stretch again.

"Tell me if anything hurts," Alfred murmured. Arthur nodded, biting his lip so to get through the stretch. After another moment, Arthur lifted his leg out of Alfred's grasp and quickly moved into child's pose.

"That should be okay, Alfred. Thank you."

Alfred sat at Arthur's side, all smiles. "No problem! Do you need help with anything else?"

"No, thanks." Arthur soon rose, eyeing Alfred cautiously. Alfred continued to stare at him, still smiling. "What? Do you need help with a stretch?"

Alfred laughed. "No, no! I just, I dunno. I thought we could talk."

"Talk?" Arthur echoed. "Well, I suppose. I should keep warming up, though."

"I can hold you, if you wanna do arabesques or something," Alfred quickly volunteered. "A-And if you wanna practice turns and stuff, we can do it like we learned last time."

"... Alright," Arthur agreed. "That sounds fine."

They stood. Alfred tentatively took Arthur's waist, which made both of their cheeks a little red. Arthur gently raised his leg into an arabesque en pointe and held it, wanting to stretch and test his back.

Alfred spoke first, after a moment. "So, you've always done ballet in, uh, a girl's style, right?"

Arthur sighed a little. "Yes. I grew up in a small town in England: there wasn't any class for male ballet dancers, and my teacher didn't care enough to single me out. When all of my classmates started en pointe, she just told me to do the same thing they were doing."

Alfred hummed. "She sounds like kind of a bitch."

Arthur managed a laugh, despite the slight pain in his back. "She was, but I suppose I wouldn't be here without her." Alfred nodded, understanding.

"Yeah, I totally feel you. My mom says she put me in ballet 'cause she loved it so much when she was a kid, but it was definitely because she thought I was annoying," he laughed. "She knew only a ballet teacher could get me to learn some manners. I totally hated all my teachers, but I'm where I am now because of all of them." Arthur smiled.

"Yes, it's an odd thing, isn't it?" He put his leg down from arabesque with a quiet groan. Alfred noticed.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes. I'm just sensitive, I suppose." He sighed, then repositioned his weight. "Shall we try the other way?" Alfred nodded, readjusting his hold on Arthur's waist so that he'd be comfortable.

"So why'd you start ballet?" Alfred asked, conversational but genuinely interested.

Arthur hesitated before answering. "I was the youngest of four brothers. I have another brother now, but I was the youngest for a long time. I suppose I wanted something to make me feel special, and I was rubbish at sports." He grimaced at a slight pain in his back. "Would you mind lifting my leg a bit higher?"

Alfred did, making sure he still had a good hold on Arthur's waist with his right hand. He gently pushed Arthur's leg higher into the air with his left. "Is this okay?" He asked quietly. Arthur nodded.

There was a moment of silence. Alfred bit his lip; he could never conduct himself well in silence. After another moment of helping Arthur stretch his back, an idea came into his head. Alfred smirked as he secured his grip around Arthur's right thigh.

"Do you trust me?" He murmured into Arthur's ear.

"What?" was all Arthur could manage before Alfred was lifting him and tilting him downwards. Arthur squeaked in surprise: his face blazed with blush when he heard Alfred laughing at him. Instinctively, he extended his arms and bent his previously standing leg. "Ugh! Alfred, put me down!"

"No, we have to practice for our pas de deux-"

"You know that fish dive is much more complicated than this one! Come on, stand me up!" Arthur protested, attempting to stand from his awkward position. Alfred continued to laugh as he put Arthur down.

"You're so touchy, Artie."

"I'm not! And I told you not to call me that." Arthur huffed, straightening himself out.

"Oh, yeah. I guess I should pack my stuff, then," Alfred hummed, casually walking to the back of the room where his belongings were.

"What?" Arthur managed, watching him. "I thought you said we were going to practice turns as well."

Alfred looked back at him, a small smirk on my face. "Oh, well, I remembered that you were gonna kick me out if I called you Artie again, 'cause you hate when I call you cute nicknames so much. So I figured I'd just pack up in advance."

Arthur blushed, taking in a defensive breath before huffing and crossing his arms. "J-Just stay, we have to rehearse."

Alfred laughed, turning to face Arthur completely. "Oh, you want me to stay now?"

Arthur looked away, groaning. "Ugh, no! It's just that- well, if we don't rehearse, you're going to get fired because you're making me look bad. A-And what kind of dancer would I be if I let my co-star get fired? Not a very good one, certainly not."

Alfred chuckled as he came back to Arthur's side. "Yeah, certainly. C'mon, let's practice some more."