Eric drummed his fingers on the counter with the music in his headphones, he swung his body along as he flipped a pancake. He pulled the fridge open with his power and made a bottle of butter fly into his hand, then closed the fridge from the same distance. He laid the baked pancake on a plate with the other completed ones and squeezed fresh butter into the pan.

They were lying low, wanting some normalcy for a while. They had enough money for the next few weeks, anyway. Eric needed time away from their schemes to figure out how he felt and what he wanted. It seemed like Keith tried to act like nothing happened. Again. But Eric won’t let him this time, he was sick of this.

Eric flinched at two sudden hands on his arms, right as he was pouring batter into the pan. Speak of the devil. He pulled his headphones off one ear. “What?”

Keith pushed his cheek against Eric’s head. “Hi.”

Eric sighed, he flipped the pancake. “I’m busy.” He wanted his affection, but not like this. Not in the way Keith had been treating their relationship for the past ten years. Eric had tolerated it all that time, wanting to be with him and thinking he’d come around someday. But he was done letting Keith play with his feelings.

Keith moved his hands to Eric’s waist in a hug. “You can reach everything.”

He always did this. Eric would want things to be official, he mentions it to Keith, Keith would break things off and push him away; Keith misses him and tries to smooth things over and act like nothing happened, Eric would let him because he misses him too; a few months later, Eric would feel secure enough to ask again, Keith pushes him away, repeat cycle. This nonsense for ten years. Or seven. Eric was tired of this relationship limbo. 

“It won’t work again,” Eric coldly told him.

“What?”

“Don’t act dumb, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I miss you, is that so bad?”

Eric moved the pancake onto the finished plate and squeezed butter into the pan again. “I told you, I won’t tolerate it anymore. If you don’t want to be my boyfriend, I won’t let you touch me.” He turned around to face Keith. “Simple as that.” He pulled Keith’s hands off him and pushed him an arm’s length away. 

Keith frowned sadly.

“Don’t be cuddly with me unless you’re ready to commit. Until then”—Eric slapped some finished pancakes onto an empty plate—“we’ll only be friends or teammates, or whatever.” He handed Keith the plate.

“Okay,” Keith answered like a sad, defeated child who’d been scolded. He sat down at the breakfast bar and poured some syrup on his pancakes.

Eric returned his attention to baking the remaining batter. He covered his ear with his headphones again. 

Regardless of how their relationship would end up, he wanted Keith in his life. As a boyfriend, a friend, a teammate, a housemate, it didn’t matter. As long as he was around him. He’d prefer boyfriend, though.

He heard Keith say something again and pulled his headphones off. “Huh?”

Keith huffed with a smile. “You’ll get hearing damage one day, you know?”

“At least I noticed you talking this time. What is it?”

“Did you give any thought to that thing I suggested?”

“Oh, that. Well.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. More people I know, more liability.”

“You don’t have to become best friends with them, but it’d be good for you to interact more with other people, and have things to do outside this house. Get into your hobbies more.”

“Like you’re doing?”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t complain about feeling pent up in here all the time.”

Eric sighed. “But a writing group, though? I don’t write.”

“You like to come up with stories. Do something with them. Or discuss your ideas with someone else who likes doing that, too.” Keith shoved a fork full of pancake in his mouth.

Eric continued with the pancakes, he poured the last of the batter into the pan. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad suggestion. Even if it’s only to have an excuse to get out of the house. He often felt anxious outside, afraid someone would recognise him somehow and arrest him. But he didn’t like being cooped up inside all the time, either. And meeting new people wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” he spoke up. “I’ll go.”

Keith smiled and said, mouth not entirely empty, “Great.”