Thunder Rolls

Clumsiness

Fraxus Week 2015, Day 3

Freed woke to another crash. This time it was not thunder; the storm had passed and the sun was shining on droplets quivering on every leaf. This was the sound of glass, and it was instantly followed by a shout.

"Dammit!"

Freed yanked himself out of sleep and ran to the kitchen, where he saw Laxus standing in the middle of broken glass and spilled coffee.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately.

Laxus glared at the mess. "I was just trying to make some fucking coffee, but I dropped the carafe. Dammit!"

"Don't move. You could step on glass."

Freed hurried. Laxus needed him, and he had to protect Laxus, even if it was just from cutting his foot on glass shards. He diligently swept away the shattered carafe, and then mopped up the coffee. Finally it was safe for Laxus to walk. He strode over to the table and collapsed with a grunt of frustration.

Freed pouted at seeing him in a peevish mood. "Why didn't you ask me to make it? You know I would."

"You were sleeping," Laxus grumbled. "I made you stay up late last night, so I figured I owed it to you to sleep in. Plus," he muttered, "I don't want to use you all the time."

Freed jolted and looked back around. "Use ... me?" He laughed nervously. "Who said anything about that? You're not using me."

Laxus raised his eyes and looked at Freed warily. "I remember last night."

Two emotions pierced Freed at the same time. One was hopefulness that this would be a repeat of his dream. It would come true, and Laxus would want him. The other was a deep sense of dread. Laxus remembered? How much? Had he destroyed their friendship with that kiss?

Laxus dropped his head. "I'm sorry if I can't return your love."

Freed's hope shattered.

"But I sure as hell am not going to ignore those feelings. I'm flattered you feel that way. I'm not gay, but I can admire you, Freed. You're not some clumsy oaf like me. You take care of all my needs. You're loyal to a fault. You're not only strong, but you're talented. You're brilliant, well-educated, you cook fantastic food, you give the best massages, and you're the only person beside that old geezer who snaps at me when I fuck up. You're seriously the best wife a man could want."

Freed felt his cheeks burning hot at that.

"I can't promise sex and romance and shit—I just can't make myself want a male lover—but still." He looked up sadly. "I like the idea of you being here waiting for me. I want to wake up to your coffee. I want you to always be in my life. That's really greedy of me, maybe that'd only hurt you more—"

"No!" Freed shouted. "I ... I want that, too. Even if it's just like this, I want it."

Laxus smiled in relief. He stood, walked over, and patted Freed on the head. "I admire your loyalty. I'd truly be lost without you, Freed."

His heart surged at hearing that.

"Any ladies out there would have a hard time proving they make a better wife than you."

His cheeks blushed again. "C-can I think of it that way? Is that appropriate?"

"Heh! Sure," shrugged Laxus.

Maybe he took it lightly, but to Freed this was better than anything. Maybe he would not get kissed in the morning, but he would wake up to Laxus' smile. He would have an honor no one else could claim: being the wife of Laxus.