I am currently going through some serious self-realisation. This story is a result of that and, for that reason, it may be overly personal. I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Shifting his weight from left to right, Keith stared a hole into Lance's front door. He wasn't sure whether he was about to cry or throw up but, whatever the feeling was, he hated it. It must have taken him ten minutes to raise his fist and bang it against the door. Anxiety was swirling around like a hurricane in the pit of his stomach. He hated it, he hated it, he hated-

"Uh.. Keith?" Keith broke out of his jail of thoughts and raised his head to look at his boyfriend. Lance was leant against the door frame with a soft smile paired with furrowed eyebrows. It was a mess of emotional signals that Keith didn't have the energy to pick apart.

"I need to talk to you about something. It's kind of serious," Keith murmured. Lance nodded, stepping to the side to give Keith the space to enter the house. "Are your parents home?"

"Nope. They're taking Luis to a party or something. What's up?"

Keith swallowed, allowing his gaze to flicker up to meet Lance's. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Look away. "I had a meeting today with a therapist from the uni."

A million different thoughts flashed through Lance's head but Keith took a moment to compose himself anyway. He clicked his fingers, the sound echoing around the room. Simultaneously, he chewed on the inside of his cheek because, for some reason, the sensation filled him with comfort. It didn't make sense. It just felt soothing.

"I've been thinking for a long time that I might be autistic."

Lance reached out and placed his hand on top of Keith's. The weight felt nice. "Okay." He simply said, wanting Keith to speak at his own pace with his own words.

"I've struggled making friends since I was a kid. I think I've had one close friend in my entire life. I always felt different and like a third wheel... I hated it so much."

"Keith? Are you okay?" Keith looked up from where he had his head buried into a notebook to see his Psychology teacher standing over him. He was a friendly man, always wearing a smile and never being afraid to spread joy. For this reason, he was a lot of people's favourite teacher.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Keith mumbled in response. He snapped his notebook shut to hide his nonsense scribbles from the teacher. It was just a stupid story about the latest character he was obsessing over anyway. Nothing special.

The teacher seemed to ignore his question in favour of changing the subject. Maybe he felt awkward. Keith sure felt like he wanted to be sucked up into a black hole at that moment. "How are you finding Psychology?"

"Yeah, it's great. I think I want to do it at university." Psychology was the one time of day that made him not want to disappear. He actually enjoyed raising his hand and speaking up, telling the class about the stupid facts that his brain had sucked up. It made him feel like he wasn't different; he was normal like everyone else.

"You'd certainly be capable of it. You're a smart kid."

"Thanks."

"I sat alone like every day at Sixth Form because no one would talk to me and, you know, I'm not about to start a conversation. I also get overwhelmed by loud noises, as you know from that concert you took me to."

Lance stared at Keith who was a small ball on the floor of the men's bathroom. He was rocking back and forth and his face resembled that of a ghost: a deathly pale. "Keith? Speak to me. I'm sorry."

"I think I'm going to puke." Keith suddenly jolted back up to hang his head over the toilet but nothing came out. His stomach was doing catapults but, for some reason, he couldn't be sick. He was much too hot as well, as if the bathroom was somewhere in the middle of the Sahara desert. He had already stripped off his cropped red jacket but, still, beads of sweat were gathering on his forehead.

"You're okay. It's going to be okay."

"It doesn't feel like it. I want to go home."

"Then there are my routines. I... I love my routines..."

"You're having another bagel?" Lance let out a high-pitched laugh as he watched Keith take an innocent bite out of his sesame seed bagel.

"Yeah, problem?" Keith responded with his mouth full of food. It wasn't the most polite thing to do but he didn't really care. He was comfortable enough with Lance not to care about how he presented himself.

"You have the same thing every day. Why don't you change it up?"

"Because I like ham and cucumber bagels. Why change something that you like?"

"I don't know? For variety?"

Keith didn't get that. He liked his ham and cucumber bagels with cups of tea and he was probably going to have them for lunch for the rest of his life. What was the issue with that anyway?

"I almost forgot to mention my love for lists."

"I like lists," Keith admitted, holding up the A5 notebook he was clutching. It had a pink and purple galaxy on the front because, at that moment in time, Keith was obsessed with space. "I literally made a list of all the reasons I think I'm autistic."

A smile tugged at his therapist's lips, reassuring Keith that he wasn't completely insane for making a list out of everything. "Read it to me."

"What, all of it? There's a lot..."

"That's okay. Take your time. I want to learn more about you."

Keith nodded, starting to read out his first point about feeling like the most socially awkward person in the world.

"Being autistic would just explain a lot about why I feel so different to everyone around me."

"And what did your therapist say?"

"He said that he'd understand if I was mildly autistic. I display a lot of traits."

Lance nodded, wrapping his arms around Keith to pull him closer. He buried his head into his boyfriend's neck, embracing the soft scent of his aftershave. It was so gentle that it brought him comfort, even in such a serious situation.

"They're referring me to the neurodiversity team at the university. They're going to help me find some support."

"That's great, Keith."

"You don't hate me?"

"How could I hate you? I just want you to be happy."

All Keith wanted was to make more friends like his boyfriend Lance. He was already lucky that Lance had approached him first at one of the university's societies: otherwise, Keith would be completely alone. Hopefully, when delving deeper into his own neurodiversity, he would be able to form a support circle that could stand by his side for the rest of his life. He just wanted a best friend.