For _bettina_: Chris/Lance. "No regrets they don't work / No regrets they only hurt / Sing me a love song / Drop me a line / Suppose it's just a point of view / But they tell me I'm doing fine."

"No second thoughts," Chris said. He was unusually, preternaturally still, as though something had pinned him to the chair.

"No regrets," Lance agreed. He felt as though he must have gotten Chris's usual mania; his leg shivered up and down, bouncing back and forth, and he looked down and made himself stop moving through sheer force of will. "We always said."

"Yeah," Chris said. "Because we're reasonable, rational adults, and we can be mature enough to say that something isn't working and that it makes more sense to go ahead and end it."

"Yeah," Lance echoed. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"It's not that I don't love you," Chris finally said. "I do. I just think that it makes more sense for us to try us without the us, until we remember who we are and where we came from. Because I love you, but right now I don't think I'm in love with you, and I want to be and I think that this is the only way to find that again."

Lance leaned over and pressed his fingertips against Chris's lips. He could feel the pulse beneath them, or maybe that was just his own pulse being reflected back to him. "I know," he said. "Shh. I know. It's okay. I don't blame you, you don't need to explain, you don't need to justify. No regrets. No second thoughts. Remember?"

"Damn," Chris said underneath Lance's fingers, and summoned up a shaky smile. "When'd you get to be so smart, anyway?"

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