Keiran got the letter when he came home from school. He shrieked, reading it over a few times before he shrieked again, his excitement overwhelming. He raced through the house, telling Chester in a rush of breath and asking the little dog where Lee was before he realized his lover wasn’t going to be home until later.
He could barely contain himself as he sat to do his homework but his heart was hardly in it anymore. Screw computers and business and everything else; halfway through his computer project, he went up to the attic and organized his art by medium, singing happily, the letter in his back pocket.
When Lee came home, he was upstairs painting. It was well past nine and he hadn’t eaten or done any of the chores he usually did at night – like feed and walk Chester and get the fire started.
Lee found him in the attic and Keir spun around, paint splattering across the wall and Lee’s shirt but Keiran hardly noticed as he dropped his paintbrush in its cup and he hopped over to Lee, taking out the letter with paint-covered fingers.
“Lee! Thank God you’re home!” he squealed, offering him the letter. Lee lifted an eyebrow at him and Keiran kissed him, wiping the spots of paint off his shirt absently, making a bigger mess as he urged Lee to read the paper in his hands.
Lee unfolded it and Keiran pranced from foot to foot, grinning excitedly. “Lee, hurry up,” he wailed as Lee read it over.
When he was finished, he looked up, a smile breaking out on his face. Keiran giggled. “I know, right?” he squealed, placing his palms flat on Lee’s chest and leaning up for a kiss. Lee dropped his hands to his hips and Keiran squirmed.
“So Lee, we needa talk, okay?” he said, steering his older lover to the ladder of the attic, motioning him down it. As Lee descended, Keiran told him: “I’m gonna do the exhibit, Lee. Its gonna be really good, a real good experience, to showcase my artwork, Lee. I’ma call and see how many pieces I can do, but I have stuff in like four mediums, Lee, so maybe I can do all four? Or maybe they’ll make me pick my favourites or something but I already have pieces in mind, Lee.” He followed him down the ladder, folding it back up and shutting his studio up.
Lee tugged him down the stairs, his excitement catching. “You know that piece, Lee, of you that I sketched? When you fell asleep after…well after you and me…you know,” he said, blushing. “I think that one. I love that one. And then, that one I did when we were up at the cottage, of the lake and the loons and the sun setting? And maybe the painting I did for Ben and Eli, if they’ll let me take it to show, I don’t know if they will. And I’ll hafta pick one or two of my sculptures, too. Maybe that African statuette I did? And maybe that abstract one for your birthday? Think so?”
Lee sat him in the kitchen as he started something for dinner, feeding the dog, but Keir couldn’t sit still. He paced the kitchen as Lee turned the oven on. “Lee, think so? Think those are good?” he asked, pushing under Lee’s arms to kiss him.
Lee nodded, smoothing his hair back. “It sounds good to me, baby. Those all sound good to me, if you are going to have that many pieces in the exhibit.”
Keiran nodded, stroking Lee’s sides. “And you’ll come see it? Lee? You’ll get off work and come see it?”
Lee smiled, kissing his temple. “Of course, I would never miss the chance to see your artwork displayed.”
Keiran smiled, nodding. “Okay Lee. Even though its only at my school? And its not that big a deal, Lee, right? Its jus’ at my school. Most people won’t even care, I bet. Maybe you shouldn’t come. Maybe you’d be my only supporter. Lee? Think I shouldn’t do it?”
Lee sighed, scooping his insecure lover closer. “Keiran. Sh, now. Stop it. Its just as big of a deal even if its only at the University, okay? And I will be going, I wouldn’t miss it, baby. Lots of people will enjoy your work, I won’t be the only one. They wouldn’t ask you to be part of it if they didn’t like your work.”
Keiran nodded, nuzzling Lee’s chest, clinging. “Sure? Promise?”
Lee sighed, nodding. “Promise, Keiran.” He felt his lover snuggle into his side, sniffling, and he shut the oven off as he stepped back and then led him to the living room, forgetting supper to reassure him.
…
Keiran was nervous. His art was set up, title cards with his name and everything present. He hiccupped and looked around at the five other students with him – three girls and two other boys, all of them younger than him and seeming very proud to be there. He had wandered through briefly to see their artwork – two abstractionist painters, one traditional pencil-and-ink cartoonist, a sculptor and another in mixed media as himself. They were all good; looking from their art to his, he got more and more nervous.
What if they were better?
When the doors opened, he hiccupped, looking for Lee. His lover was one of the first through the doors and he gave a little sigh of relief as the older man approached to press a greeting kiss to his lips. Keiran snuggled into his chest. “M’scared,” he mumbled. Lee frowned, kissing his hair as he looked over Keir’s head to his artwork.
“It looks beautiful. I think it’s meant to be displayed like this,” he praised. Keiran sniffled but he allowed Lee to release him and take his hand instead, taking the man on a tour of his work. Lee lingered at every piece, commenting on all of them. Keiran felt a little more confident as he watched Lee’s reaction and then noted that there was a fair amount of people examining his work, too.
Lee toured the whole exhibit, keeping Keiran with him until his lover became occupied with questions from interested parties. He toured on his own a little, speaking with the other artists – he learned that they had been hand-selected from over two thousand art students from all medium categories by the Dean of Fine Arts himself. They were in the running for a full-ride scholarship to one of the most prestigious art schools in the United States – Cal Arts in California.
Lee was amazed Keiran had been chosen – not because his art wasn’t good enough, because it certainly was, but because he was only enrolled in one art class that year and it was only elective – his major was business with a minor in computer sciences. The other students were attempting to make their way as artists in the world while Keiran had never expressed an interest in that path.
Eventually Lee had to leave for work but he managed to tear Keiran away from an interested reporter for a goodbye kiss. Keiran was beaming, his nervousness all but gone and he squeezed Lee’s hand as he wished him a good shift at work and Lee disappeared, leaving Keir to the reporter.
…
Lee bought the local newspaper the next day, reading the article there about the exhibit. A friend at work showed him another paper, that one with a more in-depth article in which Keiran had been interviewed, and Lee took it home to proudly show Keiran.
Keir smirked, reading the article. “Hey Lee, this is cool. And, Lee? One of the reporter-guys called me today! He’s writing an article, Lee, only on me! Just me, not anybody else, Lee! He interviewed me and all and I thought he jus’ wanted it for the paper but he works for a /magazine/, Lee, and he wants to write a /whole/ article on me and my art. Cool, huh? And, Lee? Lee, guess what? We find out by Monday who gets the scholarship. Awesome, right? It prolly won’t be me, Lee, but that’s cool, huh? I’ve never won anything, but it’ll be okay ‘cause I’ve never been picked to win something, either. And that’s pretty much like winning, huh? Right?”
Lee leaned down for a kiss, nodding. “That’s wonderful, Keiran,” he purred. “I’m very proud of you, you know. You did so well yesterday and your art looked lovely, bunny rabbit.”
Keiran smiled, wriggling until Lee settled on the couch with him.
“Lee, I really like art,” he said softly and Lee smiled knowingly. Keir nuzzled into him. “No, like a /lot/, Lee. I didn’t think I was really good or anything, Lee, but I always liked it. Mark used’a tell me it was stupid, Lee and he didn’t let me draw or paint or anything, but I kept a sketchbook, Lee, and I still drew when he wasn’t there. He said it was crappy, though, and I guess I jus’ believed him. But Lee? I really like it?”
Lee stroked his hair back, kissing his forehead. “I know, Keiran. And you’re a very good artist, baby, you are. I’m very proud of you.”
Keiran kissed Lee’s jaw. “Lee, if I do win that scholarship, I’m going to Cal Arts,” he deadpanned.
Lee’s face fell.
…
Lee didn’t try to talk Keiran out of his decision, although they did speak of the various pros and cons of going to an art school over 3000 kilometers away and 3 hours behind. Keiran listened but he didn’t seem intent on changing his mind anytime soon.
When Monday rolled around, he headed for school with mixed feelings. The students were called to meet with the Dean for a lunch and the announcement, and Keiran squirmed through the whole meal. The Dean stood and Keiran closed his eyes, breathing heavily, nervous.
He nearly threw up when the Dean announced that he had been the one chosen. The other students and the professors present congratulated him and he smiled and laughed, thanking everyone but he could barely finish his lunch after that and when the Dean asked him to stay after to hear the details, he wanted to cry.
He hurried the meeting along, getting all the details necessary before he fled for home. The bus ride was terribly long and by the time he got home he was in tears. Half he had to admit were from excitement while the other half were a mix of apprehension and fear.
When Lee came home, he was curled up in their bed with Lee’s old stuffed rabbit, sobbing, the acceptance letter and official welcome to Cal Arts on the bed beside him. Lee ascended the stairs when he heard his sobbing, collecting him close, not seeing the papers.
Keir clung to him, wailing. Lee couldn’t soothe him, no matter what he tried; Keiran wailed and sobbed and eventually – when he had cried himself out – subsided into Lee’s arms.
“I’m sorry, little one,” Lee whispered, thinking he had not been the one chosen. Keiran sniffled, shaking his head at his lover and Lee scooped him closer.
“Lee, I got it,” he whispered hoarsely.
Lee smiled a little, nuzzling his hair. “Yeah? Congratulations, Keiran,” he said with meaning, although he sounded upset at the same time. “You going?” he asked softly, feeling Keiran’s silent, slow nod of assent.
…
Lee flew Keiran down twice – the first time to find him an apartment close to the school and explore the city with him, the second time to drop him off for the winter term. Keiran put on a brave face and by the time Lee left for home, Keiran was fairly well settled and looking forward to starting school.
The first day, he slept through his first class and barely made it to the second. He skipped lunch and snacked through the day on chocolate and candies that Lee had left him for comfort. He got lost in the city on an excursion to the mall and he got lost in the park near his building when he went for a walk with his stuffed rabbit.
By the time he remembered that Lee had told him to call him and tell him all about his first day, it was midnight and he doubted Lee would want to hear from him since it was three a.m back home.
He cried himself to sleep.
He managed to make it in time for all of his classes the next few days and he called Lee a few times, skyped him and Eli and Ben and called Eli to cry twice that he missed Lee terribly but couldn’t tell him that.
By the end of the second week, he was terribly homesick. Lee had told him he could come home whenever he wanted to but that the most reasonable time to return home would be the American Thanksgiving, since that was a major holiday that the school would give off. Keiran knew Lee couldn’t take the time off work to come and visit him so he decided to suck it up and just try to make the best of it.
Lee called him everyday, sometimes twice; Keiran began answering only about every second day. If Lee skyped him, he’d log out. He thought about booking a flight home and just dropping out but he didn’t want to. He needed to prove to Lee he could do this.
By the end of the first month, he was in a rut. He was depressed, barely ate, hardly got out of bed. His assignments fell by the wayside and he refused to talk to Lee, letting his phone and laptop die and refusing to charge them. He got two academic warnings and stabbed both of them through with his tacks, crying with his stuffed rabbit.
He hadn’t spoken to Lee in a week. He couldn’t bring himself to call him or admit he had been wrong and that he certainly wasn’t ready for this sort of long-distance-schooling-relationship-mess he was in. He simply lounged in bed, told his growling stomach to eat itself and cried. He wondered if Lee even cared as he cried himself to sleep.
He woke to his door opening and he wailed, trying to get up to defend himself but he was too weak to move much more than to hide under his blankets. It was past three in the morning and he shook silently, mouthing his fist as the intruder wandered through the little apartment.
He screamed when hands descended on him and he squirmed violently, trying to get away until he was scooped up and cradled close. He stopped screaming when he felt Lee’s familiar solidity and he sobbed instead, positively clinging to the older man.
“We’re going home, Keiran,” Lee informed him, turning him down into the sheets. Keiran wouldn’t let him go, pinning him close. “We’re going home tomorrow and I won’t hear another word about it, do you understand?”
Keiran nodded, murmuring “yes, yes, pleeeeeease,” over and over again as Lee rocked him soothingly in his arms. Keiran sobbed himself to sleep once more.
He woke to an empty bed and he started to cry loudly – it had only been a dream! – until Lee returned from the bathroom and collected him into his arms once more, kissing his hair sadly. Keiran subsided into his warmth and hiccupped, crying quietly.
Lee organized his things, packing all of Keiran’s belongings except the rabbit fairly quickly. He left Keiran to the apartment as he dragged his suitcases to the SUV. When he returned for Keir, the younger man was clinging to the rabbit and when he saw Lee, he gripped his arm tightly.
“We’ll go to the school and you’ll have to drop out, alright?” he told him. Keiran didn’t care; he went through the motions robotically, clinging to Lee the whole time. He could hardly believe his lover had driven two days to come and get him – save him – from this place and his obvious mistake. He hardly cared that he was dropping out, that he was no longer a student of a world-class fine arts school. All he cared about was holding onto Lee’s arm and never letting go.
…
Lee spanked him when they were home the next day. He and Keiran had slept in, he’d forced a big breakfast down his lover and then he had him stand in the corner for what seemed like forever before he paddled him for not answering his calls and allowing himself to fall into the habit of not attending class. And he belted him after that for hurting himself - he had lost weight he couldn’t afford to have lost and completely screwed up his sleep pattern.
Keiran, although it was painful and upsetting, reveled in the punishments. He clung to Lee afterwards, not caring that his ass was touching Lee’s lap or that Lee’s nails were digging into the fair skin of his hips. He sobbed and clung, whimpering incoherently against Lee’s shoulder.
When Lee had calmed him sufficiently, Keiran pressed him back into the sheets, kissing his jaw apologetically. “M’sorry, Lee. Sorry, so sorry. I need you, I need you, I need you, pleeeeeease keep me, don’t make me go back, I’m gonna be so good for you, I’m never gonna go to there again or anywhere ever, Lee, I want you to keep me, okay? You jus’ hafta keep me forever and Lee? Lee? I love you, okay? I love you, I do. I really really do, keep me, okay?”
Lee soothed him sadly, kissing his hair and his face, keeping him close to himself. Keiran nodded at his quiet assurances that he was his, and that he was loved no matter what. That Lee obviously still wanted him.
Keiran cried himself into sleep and Lee settled in for a nap with his errant lover. When Keiran woke, he nuzzled Lee’s chin and kissed him sadly, stroking his hair. Lee shifted and squinted at him sleepily, pressing a kiss to his lips as he reached for his glasses.
Keir pouted. “Lee? Think I can go back’a school here? Take art here, Lee?” he asked him quietly. Lee smiled, nodding faintly.
“You can re-enroll still for the winter term, if you’d like,” he offered. Keiran sniffled, nodding. “Okay. I might, Lee. Or I might wait ‘til next fall, and work this semester, okay? Make sure I really want to go into art? So I stop wasting your money on dropping out so many times?”
Lee kissed his jaw. “Its up to you, Keiran. I want you to be happy, baby, that’s all. I don’t care what you’re doing.”
Keiran smiled, nipping Lee’s nose. “Lee? I think I’ma call Eli,” he whispered. Lee lifted an eyebrow.
“I’ma see if his school was any good,” he informed him, giggling as Lee turned him under him and bit his shoulder, swatting his thigh.
“You horrible little brat!”
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