Dirty Laundry [REPOSTED]

Chapter 16

Rosa turned and looked up at Lance with an angry stare. Despite being several inches shorter than her son, the look she wore was terrifying. "¡Cálmate, Lance!"

Lance spun from his pacing to stare at his mother again. "Calm? Me calm? I can't be calm when my crazy, seventy something year old grandmother comes to meet my boyfriend! She's gonna be so mad, she's gonna do something crazy like last Christmas-"

Keith spoke loudly. "Lance-"

"Oh no, what if she does that ear pulling thing? You know, where she-"

"Lance?"

"Mi Abuela me va a matar, ay no ay no-"

"LANCE!"

"What?"

Lance spun around to look at Keith, who was staring with plain eyes. Keith simply grabbed Lance's hand and tightened his grip around the shaking fingers, bringing them to his lips and placing a soft kiss along the knuckles.

Keith wasn't sure what words would work best to sooth Lance down. He was panicking, that much was obvious, but it wasn't as bad as the attacks of panic Keith had struggled with before. It was more like fear, wondering what to do next, anxiety growing but still under wraps. Keith swallowed and thought back to the words that would make him calm during his panics. For a moment the two boys just stared at each other, oblivious to Rosa scrubbing frantically at dishes.

"Listen-" Keith began, never dropping Lance's hand. "Your Abuela loves you. And, and you may not be able to control her choices or how she reacts, but you can choose how you react."

"I know but what if-"

"Lance, it's late, and if you keep relying on 'what ifs', then you're never going to get anywhere. So for now, lets just go watch a movie. Okay?"

Lance bit his lip, staring at the way Keith rubbed his thumb against Lance's dark palm. "I-I don't know."

Rosa sighed and looked up from the dishes, her soapy hand moved to a hip. "Just go boys."

Keith gave a teeny, comforting smile. "We can watch The Proposal, okay?"

"Okay."

Lance nodded his head and turned to leave the kitchen towards the stairs. As Keith and Lance walked away, both hand in hand, Keith looked over his shoulder at Rosa.

He expected her face to be strained, or at least stressed. And it still was, the sudden arrival of everyone's crazy grandmother already taking it's toll. However, she still smiled at Lance, thin lips pulled into an upwards line. Then she whispered two words, only two, and those words made Keith's heart soar. They made him feel like she really, truly liked him, she valued his presence, was thankful that he was there, that she genuinely, truly, sincerely cared.

"Gracias, Keith."

And Keith couldn't help it, he smiled back.

So yeah, Keith wasn't excited for the arrival of Abuela McClain. He wasn't excited in the slightest, he had an idea of what was coming, and he wasn't nearly prepared. But he'd agreed to this trip, and he'd knew what he was getting into from the beginning.

So for now? Lance and him would watch The Proposal, Lance would probably cry, and Keith would pretend to hate it. And then? And then Abuela would arrive, Lance would introduce him, and hopefully Keith wouldn't die in the process.

"We need to talk about today."

Keith turned in the bed so that he could look at Lance's eyes, a soft bed sheet draped across the their bodies. The two lay face to face, their noses just centimeters apart, night breath drifting across skin. They'd finished their movie just minutes earlier. Lance had fallen asleep with his cheek against Keith's leg halfway through the film, and at the time Keith had been too nervous to wake the sleeping boy. Now they were finally in bed, teeth brushed, lights off, and dressed down to their sleep clothes (or lack thereof, Lance had a new habit of sleeping shirtless).

"Anything specific you want to talk about?"

Keith cringed at his own sentence. Of course there were things to talk about. He wanted to talk about the soft pads of Lance's fingers and how they'd brushed across his skin, he wanted to talk about his lips and the way they'd placed squarely against his jaw, he wanted to talk about their kiss and he wanted to do it all over again.

So yes, there were things to talk about. Islands of words piled up just waiting to be said. Did he want to say them? Yes. But was he about to? Of course not. He wanted to sleep, it was past two in the morning and he had every intention of closing his eyes.

"I just-" Lance paused, looking anywhere but at Keith's dark eyes. "The kissing. It was all because we're fake boyfriends... right?"

Keith shivered under the blankets, even despite the sticky heat and soft line of sweat he sported. The question was strange, unusual enough that it made Keith's breath falter for a moment, and it could mean a number of things. Keith's main fear was that Lance's question indicated toward Keith's crush, that he knew the truth, that he wanted assurance it was all completely platonic. At the same time Keith wondered if Lance was feeling something, feeling the same, feeling at least interested .

Did Lance like Keith?

For a moment Keith seriously considered the possibility. Then his intellect took over, and the rational part of Keith's mind reminded him how preposterous that could be. Keith didn't need false ideas in his head, especially at two a.m.

"Of course," Keith lied. "Part of the job description."

Lance's face was void of emotion, though it was hard to see with only the glow stars for light. He was silent, the only sound was his soft breathing, and Keith assumed he'd fallen asleep. And then Lance spoke, his voice drifting and broken apart, drowsy and obviously on the brink of sleep.

"Okay." He finally whispered, suddenly turning around in the bed with his back to Keith. "Goodnight, Keith."

And then Keith was alone, alone to think about the events of tomorrow, to relive the kisses in his mind, to ponder and consider and contemplate and cry. Alone to count the stars, one by one by one.