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Keith hadn’t gone to school in nearly two years, having gotten his Associate’s degree and never went further. He figure he’ll go back to school, but go to a university to get is Bachelor’s soon. There were a few universities and state colleges he was looking at, one of which was Lance’s current one.
What he certainly was not looking forward to was finals. He remembered how hellish it had been trying to get his mer associate’s, but Lance was a graduate student and was expected even more.
It was two weeks before Christmas and Keith hadn’t seen hide nor tail of his boyfriend in over a week. He had promised to take him down to Old Towne sometime soon and get hot drinks and look at Christmas decorations, but texts and calls were sparse. Lance’s responses were short to the point, and rarely texted Keith first. Keith knew it was out of his control, but he was lonely goddammit.
Fed up with not seeing Lance and having no idea what his condition is, Keith trekked over to Lance’s house in the middle of the week and was let into his apartment by Hunk in a red apron covered in flour. Christmas music played cheerfully in the background.
“Hey dude, long time no see. Lance didn’t say you were coming,” Hunk greeting him with a firm hug. A little flour got on Keith’s navy shirt and leather jacket. “Sorry. Come in! I’m making a peppermint brownie pie, plus I’m working on sugar cookies for us to decorate once finals are over!”
The apartment was already decked out in Christmas decorations, done literally the weekend after Thanksgiving. Keith was there to help put up the garland that hung around the kitchen bar. He took a bit of raw dough from the counter and swallowed that down before Hunk could smack it out of his hands.
“Is Lance home?”
“I think so? If not, he’s at the school library. He doesn’t make much noise these days, it’s a little scary,” Hunk provided. “Why don’t you go check his room? I’m gonna make lunch after this and make him some new aloe treatment for his face.”
“What happened to his face?” Keith frowned.
Hunk nearly dropped the rolling pin he was holding. “He hasn’t told you?! Of course he didn’t, he’s been avoiding all human contact the last couple weeks. Go check on him, he’s not gonna like it, but he needs it.”
Keith nodded and headed to the door he knew was Lance’s. He softly knocked on the wood and received no answer.
“Lance? It’s me, Keith.” A pause. Nothing. “I am your boyfriend? Let me in?”
He knocked again and still got nothing. He sighed and gently pushed the door open.
Lance was indeed home, sprawled across the floor asleep and leaned against huis futon, mouth agape and head tilted back and the most awful angle. His laptop was sitting half on his leg, half on the floor, and had at least a two foot radius of stray notebook pages, binders, highlighters, and books heavily tabbed and annotated. He shuffled a copy of Jane Eyre aside to kneel by Lance.
Upon closer inspection, he noted the unnatural redness to his nose and cheeks, the skin flaking from the sunburnt skin. It was thankfully minor. The thick smell of bad body odor and coffee grinds rolled off of him, making Keith’s nose twitch from the awful smell. Keith huffed and nudged Lance awake.
Lance jolted, laptop knocked completely to the floor and Lance’s jaw clicked from the sudden motion.
“Hi, wha-? Keith? What are you. . . ?” He sat up dazed, a line of dried drool on his chin. Keith grimaced at the sudden wave of stenche that washed over him when Lance moved.
“Hi babe, when was the last time you bathed?” Keith tugged at the string to Lance’s university hoodie, a stain of hot sauce by the collar and another dark stain by the pockets.
“Uh, hi? Like, maybe, uh,” he paused, brows furrowed contemplatively. “Thursday? I’m not sure? Do I smell bad?” He took a whiff of his hoodie and flinched. “I’ve been wearing this shirt for five days and it smells like it.”
“Get up, go take a shower. I’ll roll out your bed and get you lunch.” Keith tugged at his arm, shoving the laptop over and a couple loose papers aside so nothing was blocking him.
“But I’ll fall asleep,” Lance protested, brows drawn and chapped lips puckered into a pout.
“That’s the point? You’re gonna take a nap. When was the last time you had blood?” He examined Lance’s face, the dark circles heavy and eyes a little red. He was a little sickly looking, aside from the flush of the burn, and his hands shook in Keith’s. Lance sniffed wetly and averted his gaze.
“Um, Sunday?”
“Jesus, Lance, what have you been surviving off of?”
“I’m out and I’ve had zero time to run out and get more, sorry dude,” Lance snapped. “And for your information, it’s been granola, five hour energy shots, and whatever coffee I can get my hands on.” To prove his point, he kicked an empty, large cup of some brandless coffee aside. Keith noticed the various sized Starbucks cups and other local coffee shop cups piled in his trash, on his desk, and knocked to the floor. The whole place was a mess, with laundry piled high in the corner and his laundry basket teetering. The festive Christmas lights strung across the room and the sparkly miniature tree that sat in the corner only gave the room a more depressing feeling.
“Get in the shower, I’m gonna run out and get you some blood.” Keith hoisted Lance up, ignoring his loud protests. “If I see that hoodie anywhere near you, I will actually shove you back outside to burn.”
Lance slinked out of the room, a heavy bang on the wall indicated Lance might have run into it. Keith waited for the bathroom door to click shut before he sprung into action. He gathered all the empty coffee cups and energy drinks, snack wrappers and dirty plates, and took it to the kitchen to throw away. It took several trips. He came back and organized the stacks of paper and sat them on the floor of his desk and went to pull out the futon. It was bare, which prompted Keith to get a set from the closet and make the bed. He grabbed his overflowing laundry basket and carried it to the laundry room, at least to get it out, and dumped the half the contents into the washer with soap and hit start. He didn’t bother sorting the colors out, and he knew Lance will berate him for that later, but right now he was focused on getting Lance’s spaced at least a little more organized to make it less stressful to be in.
He had set Hunk out to get some more blood and promised to keep an eye on the oven, He came back shortly with a blue ice chest brimming with fresh bags of blood and stocked up the fridge as Keith finished up Lance’s room. Keith grabbed a bag of O positive (Lance’s favorite) and dumped the contents into a cup and took it back to the bedroom. Lance came in a moment later, a towel wrapped around his slim hips and woozy on his feet. He paused at the doorway and took in the newly organized space. It would take a lot more to clean it all, but it was less hectic than it was before.
“Keith, you didn’t have to do all that,” he murmured. He came over to where Keith sat on the edge of the futon, leaned down and gave him a kiss on the head. “Thank you, so much.”
“Don’t expect me to baby you all the time,” Keith said. “You owe me for this.”
“I’ll cook you dinner after finals, how’s that?” Lance suggested. He took the cup of blood from Keith and chugged half the cup in one breath. He placed it down at the edge of his nightstand with a loud sigh and wandered over to his closet, a little more warmth was back in his face and steadier on his feet.
“Dessert, too. Don’t cheat and use Hunk.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lance dropped his towel by his desk and stood stark naked with his back to Keith. He let his eyes rake unabashedly over Lance’s figure, lingering on his nice ass and toned legs. Lance dug through the laundry pile and pulled out fresh boxers, pajama pants, and a shirt (that Keith noted was his Blink 182 shirt) and slipped that on. He chugged the rest of the blood and stumbled over to the futon and threw himself down next to Keith.
“I literally want to die I’m so tired. Look.” Lance raised his hand into the air for Keith to see it shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t know if it’s the sleep deprivation, caffeine, or starvation that’s doing that. Maybe all three, who knows.”
Keith furrowed his brows. “When was the last time you slept?” Lance was sort of an insomniac, but all vampires were. They slept in short intervals of a couple hours throughout the day, and survived off constant naps.
Lance pursed his lips. “Two, three days ago? It’s not bad, I’ve gone almost five days before I really felt it, but there’s a lot going on and my whole body is crying for death.”
Keith laid back and threw his arm around Lance’s waist. “Go to sleep then, your essay will still be here later.”
“No, I got this paper, and another paper due in three days I haven’t even started on, and another paper due that’s mostly done, but I have a couple pages left that’s due on the same day. And that review, the journal entries. I gotta go over three chapters tonight still, and go over at least two pages of my study guide.” Despite his stress, he didn’t move a muscle. As he spoke, Keith kicked off his shoes and pulled the blankets over them and snuggled closer to Lance. He rubbed a hand up and down Lance’s side. “And don’t even get me started on the two group presentations, one class I’m doing 90% of the work despite it being a four person group, and the other is just tedious research.”
“Set an alarm for an hour, you need to rest for a bit. After that I’ll get some take out for us and we can eat and I’ll help you go over your study guide, how’s that?”
Lance didn’t respond right away. Keith looked over to see he had his eyes closed, the bags way more prominent than before at this angle.
“Okay,” Lance said softly, words caught on his lips. He didn’t move to open his eyes.
“Are you almost asleep?”
“Mh-hm.”
Keith pressed a warm kiss to Lance’s cheek and slowly ran his fingers through Lance’s damp hair. He pressed another to his jaw for good measure and snuggled close to him.
“Thank you, babe,” Lance murmured.
“You’re welcome, Lance,” Keith hummed back.
“I kind of hate you, Keith.”
“That’s okay.”