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not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment

Not So Fragile

by Raynedanser

Lance looked around the condo one last time and went over his mental check list again. Birthday present? He glanced at the box in the center of the coffee table. Check. Food? He could smell it from here. Also check. Birthday boy? Not so much.

Lance peeked out the window by the front door. Where was he? He knew that the Birthday Boy hadn’t forgotten about the get together because they’d talked about it only last night. Lance chuckled. Then again, the Birthday Boy could have gotten distracted by something shiny along the way. He wasn’t really even late. Yet.

Finally, feet landed heavily on the steps outside. Lance leaned against one of the twin white columns that separated the dining area from the living room, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He could hear Chris swearing as he fought to fit the key into the lock and tried not to chuckle when it finally turned and the door fell open, bringing Chris with it.

Chris stumbled into the room and scowled Lance. “You could have warned me that the lock was sticky,” he grumped as he pulled the key out.

“Then I would have missed your grand entrance,” Lance chuckled. He smiled as Chris crossed the room, mindless of the wet footprints he left in his wake, and returned the kiss that was offered.

“What’s this about a birthday dinner? I told you not to make a big deal, Bass,” Chris chastised.

He left Chris where he stood, pulling off his layers, snow and droplets of water landing on the smooth tile.

“It’s not a big deal,” Lance answered from the kitchen. He grabbed the food, recently cooked and still warm, and brought it into the dining area. They ate quietly until Lance finally confessed, “I did get you a birthday present, though.”

Chris stared at him. “Lance, I told you - ”

Lance got the heavy box and brought it back over. “I know you did. Will you shut up and open it?” he said quickly.

Chris eyed it suspiciously as Lance watched him. Eventually, he huffed dramatically, opened the box and pulled out its contents. Chris slowly pulled the white tissue paper away, discarding it and staring at what had been wrapped protectively inside.

“Oh Lance,” he breathed as he slowly turned the statue. Standing in the center of the table was a glistening grey and black marble dragon statue. It was reared up on its hind legs and clutched in its front paws was a large, egg shaped black opal. Its eyes were sparkling emeralds.

“Marble because it’s hard on the outside, fragile on the inside,” Lance explained. “Like someone I know. Opal for your birthstone, black because it’s rare and special, emerald for mine.”

Chris finally looked up at Lance, one hand still hovering protectively near the statue. “It’s amazing.”

Lance smiled and nodded, knew that was the best he would get from Chris, knew he loved it. “Also like someone I know,” Lance said quietly.



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