A Romantic Thing

Lance wakes up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He manages to find the dexterity needed to grab the phone, flip it open and angrily greet whoever would ever be cruel and/or stupid enough to call at this hour before he realizes that there is no one there because it's his text message song. He tosses it back onto his nightstand as it stops making that horrific noise, only to have it start again.

He snatches it back and squints at the small screen. It takes a few tries, but he finally gathers that it's from Justin, as was the first one. Justin's made up his mind. He's going to be a man of action. Be prepared. And for God's sake, don't leave the damned house today. He decides that Justin has lost his mind and burrows under the covers.

It feels like a minute later when he hears his doorbell ring. And ring. And ring. Swearing profusely, he stumbles out of bed, down the stairs and to the front door. "What?" he growls.

The delivery man standing there looks apologetic. "Mr. Bass?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I was instructed to ring the bell as many times as it took to get you to answer the door," the man says. "These are for you." He offers Lance a large bouquet of flowers.

Lance accepts them and signs the receipt. He carries them to the kitchen, refusing to note that it is, in fact, 8:15 in the morning and only about four hours since he got home. He goes digging for the card and sees that they're from Justin. At least, he thinks they're from Justin - it isn't signed, but the message looks a lot like the texts he had received earlier that morning. He puts the flowers into a vase his mom bought for him and carries them into the living room. He places the vase on the table next to his favorite napping couch, and promptly lays down for a nap.

He's even more disoriented when the doorbell rings again and again. He rolls off the couch before he realizes that he's not in fact in his bed anymore. He climbs to his feet and makes his way to the door.

"I'm," the delivery man says and Lance cuts him off.

"Sorry, following instructions, yeah," he says and holds his hand out for the computer box.

The man nods and hands Lance a box. "Have a nice day, Mr. Bass."

Lance carries this box back to the living room and opens it. It includes a picture frame, a few scented candles, a few looseleaf pages with poetry written on them, a homemade CD, and a DVD of Bridget Jones's Diary. There's a note taped to the CD that says, "You can sleep for a few hours now." He puts the CD into his player, lights a candle and falls asleep easily.

He wakes up at 1, and lays quietly, waiting to see if it was the doorbell that woke him. Silence. He sits up and goes through the box again. He's reading the poems when the doorbell rings. He's at the door before the second ring can come.

"Hi," Lance says to the UPS woman.

"Mr. Bass?" At his nod, she hands him the computer to sign. "Here you go."

He takes the box back to the living room. When he opens it, he laughs. Nestled inside the packaging are sex toys - cock rings, a vibrator and fur-lined handcuffs. The gift note says, "Getting the picture?" He grins.

He's debating whether or not he's meant to watch Bridget Jones when the doorbell rings again. He opens it to find Justin standing there. "Delivery?"

Justin looks a little sheepish. "Uh, well, I don't have anything on me."

"I suppose you'll do, then," Lance says and pulls him inside. "Hi."

"Hi," Justin says. "Did you get my gifts?"

"I did," Lance nods. "8am, Justin? Really?"

They walk back to the living room. "Sorry, man, but I wanted to make sure you got the flowers first. And the Box of Romance." He grins at Lance's snort. "Yeah, I know. But they had to get there before the toy box. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"You mean, you don't want to have sex with me?" Lance says, gesturing towards the handcuffs lying on top of Bridget. "Way to be anti-climatic. So to speak."

"Oh, no, no," Justin says quickly. "I do! But I don't want it to be just sex. I wanted to woo you. Didn't you get that?"

"No, somehow, I managed that. But, uh, Bridget Jones, J?" Lance asks.

Justin shrugs. "Who better to set the tone of romance than Hugh Grant and Colin Firth?"

"So this is a romantic thing? Full blown hearts and chocolate and lube romance?" Lance asks.

"If that's okay with you, yeah," Justin says and then eeps. "Shit! I forgot the chocolates."

Lance laughs. "I'll forgive you this time, if you give the correct answer to this question: which box do we use first?"

Lance barely has time to blow out the candle before Justin has him upstairs with the toy box.

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