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You swore you’d be here until we decide that its our time
The phone had been ringing non-stop for an hour when Shiro lost his cool. He hammered on the bedroom door, not caring about sensitivity anymore.
‘Keith, open this goddamned door right now, or I will.” He said, almost growling in frustration. Keith opened the door, and Shiro was taken aback by how terrible he looked. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he wore a grey Garrison hoodie that Shiro was almost completely certain was Lance’s.
“I can hear the fucking phone too, Shiro. You think I can’t?” He said lowly. His voice was croaky, as if he’d just been crying. He probably had. Shiro’s face softened.
‘Keith, you’re a mess. Lance clearly is too. You need to fix this. Just answer the phone, please?”
“You never tell me anything, Keith! And now you come home in the middle of the night, fucking wasted, and expect me to just go along with it?” Lance screamed, slamming a stack of plates down on the side, hard. Keith flinched, but his face morphed into one of anger.
“You KNOW me, Lance! Better than anyone! You know I can’t just talk it out, and—”
“Why.”
“What?”
“Why can’t you just talk it out? And why is your method of dealing with your problems getting WASTED and starting fights?!” Lance cried. Keith was crying now too, tears of anger and shame.
“I’m sorry but maybe if you stopped PRYING, we’d be okay! Maybe I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing! Maybe not everyone was raised with the perfect happy family, Lance!” He yelled. Lance froze.
“You think my life has been easy?” He whispered. “You think its been all SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS, HUH? You think the gay Cuban immigrant who lived below the poverty line for most of his life has had it EASY, Keith?”
“You’ve always had people there for you, Lance! People that loved you! I haven’t had that. Ever. So yeah, your life’s been a whole lot easier than mine.” Keith retorted, the words feeling bitter in his mouth.
“Who’s Shiro then, Keith. Who’s Adam. Who am I?! You might not have always had us, but you do now, so why can’t you see that? I don’t understand you!” Lance said, hands tugging at his hair. “You say you love me, but you don’t give me any reason to believe that! You’ve been distant for months! You run off in the middle of the night and lie to me and make me think that you—” Lance broke down then. Keith remained silent. “Make me think that you’re CHEATING or going to break up with me or something. I can’t DO this, Keith! I can’t deal with this not knowing! I’m not emotionless, or perfect! I’m not going to sit happily at home whilst you ruin our lives!” He was screaming, but suddenly he stopped, wiping his eyes. “Get out of my house.”
“Lance, please.” Keith said.
“Go… be a lone wolf. Pretend you’re unlovable or whatever it is you did when you were by yourself. Just GO.” Lance spat the last word, and Keith turned to leave. He hesitated at the door, hand grazing the handle, and turned back to see Lance huddled on the kitchen floor, crying. He left, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him, already fumbling with his phone to call Shiro.
Keith stared at the receiver, and the vibrating phone on top of it. Lance knew Keith well enough to know that his phone was shut off and hidden away somewhere.
Lance knew Keith inside and out.
Squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the tear that traced down his cheek, Keith picked up the phone.
“Keith?”
“Lance.”
“Oh thank god. I was so worried, amor. Please come home, we can talk this through.”
Keith let out a dark chuckle at the irony. He looked around Shiro and Adam’s house, and realised that he was really missing his own apartment.
“I’m not ready to come home yet, Lance. I’m sorry.”
There was a long pause, and Keith held his breath, expecting the worst.
“Okay, Keith. Be careful and come home soon.” Lance hesitated. “I love you.”
Keith hung up the phone before replying.
Beep.
Lance placed his phone face-down on his pillow and wiped the tears from his face. He was trying not to look at Keith’s side of the bed, and he was failing miserably. In an attempt to distract himself, he opened twitter, scrolling mindlessly through his feed for a few minutes. Soon, he decided he couldn’t do it anymore.
It was late, and the sky was dark. Being late November, it was cold enough that Lance grabbed a jacket from the coat rack by the door. He didn’t realise it was Keith’s jacket until he was out the door, and his breath caught for a moment. Still, the man made his way out of the apartment building and into the street.
The only light was the dim yellow glow of the street lights, and Lance wandered without a direction. He considered walking to the bar but remembered what he’d encountered the last time he was there. He turned and started walking in the other direction.
Lance hadn’t realised where he was going until he was there.
A large tree, adorned in Christmas lights that no one ever bothered to remove, with a small park bench at the foot. Lance smiled wistfully and sat quietly on the bench.
It didn’t take Lance long to find what he was looking for. Keith had whittled it into the tree, and Lance remembered fondly the other man’s intense concentration as he carved it.
KK+LM
Directly underneath, barely legible and much older, were another set of initials. Keith had told Lance the story of how his parents had carved their initials onto this tree, and Lance had thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. Then Keith had put their initials into the tree, and suddenly that was the most romantic thing in the world.
“My mom’s name was Krolia.” A voice said. Lance didn’t react. “She wasn’t a good person. She loved my dad, I know she did, but that was all she had going for her. She drank too much, she chain-smoked, and she got into fights a lot. When dad died, she up and vanished, leaving one traumatised and fucked up kid.” Keith laughed, humourlessly. “She once told me that she would die for my dad. I didn’t understand how it was possible to love someone that much, that you’d give up everything for their happiness. Now, though, I think I do.”
Lance didn’t know when he started crying. He could hear in Keith’s voice that he was, too.
“I really, really do, Lance. I’d do anything for you. My whole life, I’ve been so scared of turning out like my mom, so much that I drove myself to do what she did. I ran when things got tough.”
Lance turned around, and suddenly they were kissing. Then they were laughing and crying and still kissing, until they calmed down enough to talk.
“I love you so much, idiot.” Lance choked out. “But from now on, we face our issues together.” Keith nodded, his face serious.
“I’m going to finish my degree and apply for a teaching position at Coran’s school.” He said. Lance smiled supportively. “Maybe I could be a positive influence on some kids, try and make up for my mom’s wrongs.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Keith.” Lance said, hushed. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for some of the things I've said recently. I'm sorry."
“And I’m going to make it up to you. Somehow. I haven’t really thought this through and I’m really bad at apologies, maybe I should just—”
And Lance was hugging him, tighter and more genuine than any hug Keith had ever gotten in his life.
--
Keith woke up the next morning with Lance by his side. Sunlight poured through the windows, and in the soft glow of the November morning, the world seemed a little happier than it had previously.
Lance groaned and rolled over, arms untangling from Keith, letting the other man slip from the sheets. Keith pulled on a shirt that had been dumped on the floor, and stood for a couple of seconds, looking at his boyfriend.
For the first time in a long time, he believed that he’d made the right decision.
He was happy.