|
anniversary "Here." Lance tossed a small box into the middle of Keith's paperwork. Keith looked at the box, then at Lance who fidgeted and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Lance?" "Five years. That's wood, right?" Lance would have sounded belligerent if he hadn't looked both uncomfortable and embarrassed. "So. Wood." "Wait. Hold on. Five years of what?" "Us. Being together. It's been five years. Unless I miscounted." Lance fidgeted some more and then put his hands down on the table with a loud thud. "Look. Will you open it already?" "Uh." Keith picked up the box, holding it carefully like it was going to bite him. "I. Uh." He looked up at Lance. "Wood?" "I don't make up the rules." Lance stared at him, long and slow, and Keith looked back down at his gift. He opened the little box and stared blankly a shining new PDA. "This is wood?" "Well, no. But that's because I couldn't think of anything useful to give you made from wood and the other option is silverware. So, uh, I got you this to help you organize your life. See," Lance leaned over and turned the PDA on and pointed at the screen, "I already wrote in your to do list. And right now we're supposed to be making out." "I." Panic was crushing Keith's chest and he had to get away. Had to run. "I have to go." He stood, banging his knee against the table. Lance pulled back, startled, and Keith took his shock as an opportunity to grab his papers and make a decidedly undignified exit.
Keith paced from his bed to the door and back to his bed, trying to work out all of the frustration and confusion that screamed within him. Five years. Five years and he wouldn't have known if Lance hadn't been so bloody stupid. Five years and he had been happy in his ignorance. But now. Now he was beginning to freak out because this thing with Lance wasn't supposed to have lasted even one year. How the hell had it become five years? How could he have let something like this slip past him? He needed to get out. He needed to end this, now, before Lance could hurt him. "Keith?" Lance knocked gently on the door and Keith froze. "Keith, I know you're in there. Can I come in?" "Uh." Keith looked wildly about. "I. Uh." "Keith." The door slid open and Lance came in. "Keith, what's wrong?" "I can't. I." The panic made sharp pains in his chest and he was beginning to hyperventilate, he knew it. "I. Lance I can't do this anymore." "Do what?" "This. Us. I can't." "Okay." Lance sat down on the bed. "Why?" "I. I just can't. Five years. It's been five years." Keith took long deep breaths and looked at Lance wonderingly. "Five years!" "It was just a PDA. It doesn't mean anything." Lance shrugged uncomfortably. "If it makes you feel any better, think of it as a belated birthday present." "Doesn't matter. Five years means that this is more than just sex. It means that we. We have a relationship." "Well. Yeah," Lance said with a slight smile. "Is that really such a bad thing?" "I don't do relationships." Keith sat down next to Lance, rubbed his face. "Me and relationships. It's not a good mix." "It's been working well so far. Look, Keith, nothing has to change. We don't even have to acknowledge this ever again if it'll make you feel better." Keith eyed Lance skeptically. "Really? No calling me love? No referring to me as your boyfriend? No talk about commitment ceremonies? No flowers or anniversaries or expectations?" "Honest. No pet names. No commitment ceremony; although I will still castrate you if you fuck somebody else. Just so we're clear." Lance reached over and placed a warm, comforting hand on the back of Keith's neck. "You'll just be Keith. And I'll just be Lance. And that's all we'll ever have to be. Okay?" Keith smiled, slow and shy and full of love all at once, and leaned in until his forehead rested against Lance's. "Okay." |