Break Bad

Home is where the heart is

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March 15th, 2018. 11:35Am...

Lance stood outside the designated door. He did his best to control the shaking that wanted to overcome him. But not stress, or fear like it had been for so long, but anticipation. More then he could handle, so his body exuded excess excitement through the trembling of his fingers. He'd counted the days. For the last two months since Adam told him the news, Lance counted every single day, hour, and minute. Nine hundred, fourty two days.

"Two years, six months, thirty days."
Lance muttered under his breath.

He felt the hand land on his shoulder.
"Too long."

Lance nodded.
"Way too long...Thanks for coming, Shiro."

Shiro squeezed his shoulder, before dropping his hand. "I needed to do this too. I wish Allura could've come. I'm sure Keith would've loved to see her."

Lance smiled.
"He will. She'll book the first flight as soon as she can."

Lance didn't think it'd be this dramatic. He figured he'd be in a waiting room for a few hours. Maybe signing paper work, or something. But no. The prison called thirty minutes ago, and said Keith would be walking out the front door at 11:30Am.
They told Lance to wait in the parking lot, by the door, and hung up.

Lance texted Shiro immediately, and the man happily agreed to drive him. Lance knew when would not be willing to focus on the road while Keith sat next to him. Lance doubted he was going to be acknowledging anything but Keith for a few weeks.

Lance checked his phone again. 11:36Am.
He let out an impatient breath.
"They already took him from me for two an a half years, do they really need to add six minutes to that?"

Shiro chuckled.
"You've waited this long."

"Exactly. I'm done waiting, I'm done being patient. I want my boyfriend back."

Shiro's eyes went to the door as it buzzed.
"Looks like the wait is over."

Lance stared intently at the thick metal door, as soon as it opened, out walked Keith. Ugly mullet, tattoos, wearing those same jeans and tanktop he was when he was taken here.

The moment Keith's eyes met Lance's, Lance froze. He could hardly believe it was real. He felt the tears in his eyes. His hands began to shake even worse, and his breath caught in his throat. Keith smiled wildly, and walked towards Lance.

Lance wanted to run to him. But some part of him was afraid that the moment he and Keith touched, he'd wake up in bed again. Just like all the other times he saw this, pictured this, believed it was real.

Then he felt Keith's arms, muscular, and hot to the touch. He smelled his hair, and felt Keith's face bury into the crook of his neck.
"Hey, beautiful."
Keith said.

Lance's whole body trembled, as he lifted his arms up, and enveloped Keith as tightly as he could. He buried his head in Keith's neck, and couldn't form words. He didn't need to. His tears, his trembling arms, and his shaky breath said it all. Lance felt his knees give out, and Keith came down with him. Lance was on his knees, and Keith knelt, keeping his grip tight.

Keith had dreamt this same dream, just as much as Lance. And he was just as afraid he'd wake up in a concrete bed, surrounded by white wash wall, and stone. But he didn't. Not this time.

It was several minutes before Lance so much as loosened his grip. By then they were half laying on the concrete, holding one another close. Finally Keith pulled back, and saw the tears streaking down Lance's face.

Keith shook his head, and wiped away the tears with his thumbs, holding Lance's cheeks in his hands. "That face is too beautiful to have tears on it."

Lance let out a half sob, half chuckle, as he smiled slightly. Still refusing to remove his hands from Keith's waist.