Ansia de Lujuria, Ansia de Amor

A pleasure of warmth and heart mends a well built connection. The feel of friction is not just excitement anymore but a loving affection. Physical touch speaks its own language.

   Two years have passed for Keith and Lance in their developing relationship. It started with excitement that could levitate your imagination through bliss. Then came the satisfaction once the puzzle pieces finally came into place. Unfortunately, it hadn't felt that way for Lance. Trouble in paradise haunted his thoughts day in and day out. Keith has hardly been present at home due to the Garrison missions. Time away encouraged by pass thoughts of loneliness which can stray a person so far away. One should be extra careful of how far forgetfulness could really take an individual. Lance and Keith are no exception but human nature is such a fragile mind state.

~"Have you lost your mind?!" Keith yells at Lance on the street.

"Lighten up, Keith. Nothing was going to happen." Lance rolls his eyes.

"You call grinding and fondling, nothing? Lance you gotta stop taking these solo acts!"

Keith is furious and biting his bottom lip, pacing back and forth. Lance observes his behaviour, wondering if he'll explode sooner or later. He brought Lance outside of Altea in spite of recent events. A client had been way more than comfortable in touching Lance, practically past boundaries.

"It's my job. It's how I met you, and you had no problem with it?"

"That was different, Lance! Way more different and you want to compare it to us?" Keith covers his mouth and turns away from Lance. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Lance continues to stare at Keith, "Right. Different. Not that it matters but he is a soldier on break. They tend to stop in quite a bit and it was a customer special. Relax." He scoffs and begins to walk down the sidewalk, with Keith staring at his back in disbelief. Hurt too.~

Keith smokes a cigarette while leaning on the ledge of his balcony. Well, the balcony attached to his and Lance's apartment. The glass sliding door behind him is still wide open to their bedroom. A bedroom covered with mixed up laundry on the floor and a closet partially closed, filled with a few empty baskets. The dressers are half open as well, bits of clothing left or tossed, to dangle over the edge. As if a tornado came through there.

It's not often that Keith will smoke cigarettes but he gained an acquired taste during the long haul of his missions. However, it's bitter taste strikes Keith in an unusual comfort from the stress.

Lance left about an hour ago. Gathered as much of his belongings as he could. Keith didn't fight for him to stay. He had some anger towards Lance but hurt too. Actually, he feels guilty too. When the anger subsided, neither knew what to do. Where to begin or how to behave. Lance couldn't handle the atmosphere and decided to leave for a while. As for Keith, he never responded to any calls from the Garrison that following week. In the two years of their relationship, this is the first time where Keith and Lance wanted nothing to do with each other.

The next day, Shiro showed up from nowhere and walked in on Keith's messy apartment. Obviously depression was the reason. He sighed before making his way towards the bedroom and clicked open the door, "Keith?"

". . . What do you want, Shiro?" Keith's voice muffled.

"Iverson sent me. Says you've been ignoring calls and threatened to drop you." Shiro walked into the room, avoiding more messes of clothes.

"I really don't care. I've got bigger problems than my spot in that stupid program." Keith speaks as he removes the pillow before turning himself onto his stomach.