Break Bad

Heading for the horizon

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March 26th, 8:35Pm.

"Keith! Get up!"
Lance yelled into the bedroom, with a toothbrush still in his mouth, and his pants at his ankles as he tried to pull them up with one hand.

Keith groaned unintelligible words, then covered his face with the blanket. Lance sighed, and pulled his shorts up all the way, then walked across the room to the window. As much as he loved Keith, the man was ridiculously inconsistent with his morning schedule. If Keith plans on going to the gym a certain days, he's up a 7:00Am sharp. But if it's anything else, he will sleep for twelve hours if Lance doesn't wake him. And today was not the day for Keith to sleep in.

Lance walked to the window, and yanked open the curtains, letting the bright outside light shine in on his boyfriend. Though Keith's eyes were covered, he still groaned as he felt the heat of the sun's scorching rays graze his uncovered legs.

Lance rolled his eyes, walked up to the bed, and pulled the blanket with a hard yank off of Keith. "Keith! Up!"

Keith opened one eye.
"Time?"

"Late."

"Specific...please."

Lance sighed.
"It's almost nine."

Keith shrugged.
"That's not that bad."

"Keith, we need to leave at 10Am. You said so yourself. Whatever you have planned, we need to leave at ten."

Keith opened his other eye, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Shit, right. Forgot. Okay, I'm getting in the shower."

Keith slide out of bed, dropping his boxers off halfway out the door.
"Keith, I need to get one! Atleast save some water for me!"

"Get in with me, or get a cold one!"
Keith yelled groggily from the bathroom, hardly able to form coherent words. Lance let out a long groan, and walked into the bathroom, taking his shorts back off as he went.

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March 26th, 9:01Am.

Lance quickly threw the eggs in the pan, and raised the temperature. Throwing bacon beside it, he counted seconds on the clock as Keith sat at the table behind him, desperately clinging to a cup of coffee like it were the only sense of warmth and comfort in the world. If Lance weren't already preoccupied, he might've been jealous of that coffee.

As soon as the eggs were cooked enough to be edible, he tossed them onto a plate, dowsed them in salt and pepper, then spun around and sat them in front of Keith.
"There you are, rush hour eggs, eat fast."

Keith poked at the egg with his fork, yellow yolk ran out, he scrunched up his nose.
"It's...not cooked."

Lance looked it over. Then turned to finish the coffee. "Yes it is. It's just runny. They're good like that."

"Lance...I...am not eating that."

"Keith don't be picky, we have to leave in an hour, and I don't have time to cook your eggs into charcoal."
Lance poured two cups, and smiled as he did so. He did this so many mornings while Keith was in prison. Absentmindedly making two cups, amd having to pour one out once he realized. Lance was about to dump the second one in the sink out of habit, before he stopped himself, and looked over his shoulder at a half dressed Keith. Wearing loose fitting shorts, and no shirt, some water from the shower still dripping from his hair, and down his pale back.