25 Days (’Til He’s Mine) - Day 8
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I know I’ve been whining about that exchange fic I (still) gotta finish, but I feel like I’ve been seriously neglecting this fic, so I wanted to at least get something out. So here, have a thing.
Lance dragged himself out of bed with a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. He scrubbed a hand through his wild nest of hair as a yawn split his face. Keith had already gone to work, left early to prepare for a presentation first thing in the morning, and Lance was supposed to be meeting Hunk for drinks after work this evening. Keith had frowned a little at Lance’s suggestion that he open his advent gift today without Lance, but he’d agreed it was probably the only way to do it unless he waited until tomorrow - an option neither of them had considered seriously.
Shuffling into the bathroom, idly scratching at his stomach, Lance could admit to himself he’d only suggested it because he was a fucking coward. What Keith opened today seemed silly on the surface, but there was some real feelings buried in there and Lance was honestly glad he wasn’t there to see Keith’s face when he read what Lance had left for him. Except, now he didn’t know what to expect, and the uncertainty was eating him alive.
He hurried through his shower and other morning ablutions, words flitting through his brain. For some godforsaken reason he’d thought it would be cute to write silly little holiday haikus for one of the days. And it had been a cute idea - right up until the poems had taken a hard right turn into the realm of Serious EmotionsTM. There were four of them in total and the words for each were seared into his brain, unforgettable at this point.
The first, titled Keith wasn’t too bad. It had stayed pretty close to Lance’s goal of being silly but well-intentioned. He’d really only wanted to make Keith smile with it.
Unexpected best friend
Wrong about aliens
Lance didn’t think there was much in those three lines that would give his boyfriend pause. The second, Christmas was much the same. The only underlying truth it was likely to expose was that Lance really had no skill for writing haikus - the syllables/sound units thing honestly confused the shit out of him. So yeah, the poem was poorly executed, but heartfelt and cheesy - pretty much everything Lance aspired to be on a daily basis.
Lights, tree, warm cookies
Together with my family
Everything I enjoy
Selecting a suit from his closet at random, Lance dressed with just as little focus as he’d spared for showering. He couldn’t let go of his own irritation long enough to stop second guessing himself. Because if the first two poems had been exactly what he was shooting for, that all fell apart with the third, Tradition.
Old and comfortable
There is still room for one more
How we show we care
That was so much more revealing than Lance had planned to be, gave away so much more than he really felt comfortable with at this point. But instead of fixing it with the last haiku, he’d just fucking doubled down and practically served Keith his heart on a platter when he’d penned the last poem, Family.
None of your own now
Will share mine with you instead
Love making you smile
What in the fuck had he been thinking. And now he hadn’t been around to see how Keith reacted to those words, to what essentially amounted to a confession of much deeper feelings than anything they’d ever talked about. People said it all the time, often he even agreed, but right now, Lance felt it on a bone deep level - he was a fucking idiot.
He stumbled into the kitchen seeking coffee. If he was going to keep contemplating his complete and irredeemable stupidity, he’d damn well do it when he was properly caffeinated. However, he was immediately distracted from that pure and noble goal by a large yellow square stuck to the microwave. Stomach turning over in anxiety, he pulled the note off and read:
There’s eggs inside; just need to be reheated. Hopefully you didn’t wake up too late to eat them. See you at work.
P.S. These things are harder to fucking write than they look, but here goes nothing.
Insane but perfect
Gives me what no one else will
What no one else can
All are born and die
Only chance in between
Stars align; found you
Lance’s hands were trembling and his eyes were stinging by the time he finished. Oh hell. It looked like Lance wasn’t going to have to tone down anything - he was going to have to up his game. Because against all odds, his boyfriend was a motherfucking romantic bastard.