He swore he would never take a piss again.

By the time he got back, Shiro was gone. And he knew it wasn't an "up for a moment for a drink" kind of gone.

Keith had been afraid it would come to this. He took back his place at the table and tried not to make eye contact.

He could feel what everyone's faces were saying, "You know your friend left, right, who are you again?"

But he couldn't ask anyone where Shiro had gone. Well, he could, but he wasn't going to.

When the text finally came, he already knew what it was going to say.

Got called in to work, pick you up after. Sorry.

That was IF Shiro got out of work before this godawful reception was over. Keith didn't even know what the fuck town this was, but if it had been within walking distance, he'd have left ages ago.

Fuck social events.

Did people have to be so loud when they talked about stupid shit? He wished Shiro was here to talk about stupid shit, Shiro was so good at distracting people. It came with the job, you had to be good at talking about stupid shit when it was the only thing keeping people sane while you pulled them out of a twisted car. Keith vaguely wondered what sort of car-twisting Shiro was dealing with now.

He could sense the judgement in people's eyes as he reached for a crab puff and pretended like he wasn't eating a stranger's food.

No one else had looked at the twisted car that was Keith's life and decided there was anybody worth saving inside. It was just more apparent when he was alone.

"Here."

He looked up.

It was the old sack of a woman sitting beside him. She was handing him a drink.

Well. Shiro wasn't here to say no. Keith took it.

"You're at MY table and I don't let little whippersnappers sit around looking so sad," the granny said. Keith sipped the drink.

"You know what *I* would be doing right now if I was your age?" she asked. Keith hoped that was rhetorical. "I would be losing my panties to all these handsome boys around here. I was a pretty talented panty-loser back in my day."

Keith knocked back the drink and tried to imagine he hadn't just heard that.

"Oh, a novice," Grandma noted, handing Keith another glass of liquor. Probably hers, judging by the crusted lipstick on the rim. "Loosen up, my boy, it doesn't do a young face to look so sour!"

Keith tried not to grimace as he took the new glass. Only now did he notice how many others Grandma had in front of her.

"Yep, you wouldn't BELIEVE the shenanigans me and my panties got into when I was young and beautiful like you. There was a time when…"

Suddenly the smudge on the glass didn't seem so terrible next to this. He steeled himself and tried to swallow enough to survive.

By the time Grandma started talking about rug beaters, Keith was done.

"I have to go."

He didn't know where. The world began sloshing as he tried to walk.

Find some place to text Shiro. Maybe bitch about Grandma. Or just do something to look busy and not have to listen to the panties.

God, it was getting so hot in here. He popped open a button with a curse to fancy dress.

"Hi," someone said, making him look up. "Are you one of Andrew's friends?"

It took him a second to focus on whoever was speaking. Some girl in a white dress… shit, she was the bride.

She was leaning against a man in black, but hell, it was a wedding, that could have been ANYONE.

"Oh. So this guy must be Andrew," Keith said foggily.

The bride was giggling a bit and it felt like flint scraping over tinder.

"Did you come here with someone?" she asked.

Of course he came here with someone, lacey dipshit, he came here with someone who never had the time to stay with him and who probably had better things to do than be friends with people like YOU.

Keith hiccupped.

"Honestly, I don't even know who you guys are, and I really don't want to be here right now."

The couple looked a little less happy.

"Okay, seriously, who invited you?"

Keith felt an arm clap around his shoulders.

"I did. He's my plus-one."

He looked to the right. It wasn't Shiro, it wasn't anybody that he knew.

"Don't mind him, he's a little…" the boy motioned. Long as Shiro didn't find out…

Keith waited for the newlyweds to go away, but they didn't. The boy was dragging HIM away instead.

"You gotta be more careful, man," the boy hissed. "Drink any water lately?"

Keith started to shake his head but it just made him dizzy. Before he could give an actual response, an older man appeared beside them.

"Lance, son," the man put his hand on the other boy's shoulder, "You have a boyfriend and you didn't even tell us?"

The boy turned red.

"Oh, yeah, about that…"

"And you're telling Virginia about him before US? Is that what's going on?"

"Uh, actually…"

"No, son, it's okay, you don't have to hide it anymore. I just want to say… if we made you feel like you couldn't come out to us for all those years, we were terrible parents and we're SO sorry."

The boy – Lance? – let go of Keith and put up his hands.

"No, really, Papi, it's okay, please stop crying..."

The man turned to Keith.

"I want to personally apologize for failing you and my son," he sniffled. "I can see you're a lovely boy and I'm sorry that I made him too uncomfortable to talk about you."

Maybe Keith wasn't the only drunk one around here.

The man turned around when a girl touched his arm.

"Papi, why are you crying? Is everything okay?"

The man began to blubber.

"Lance has a boyfriend and didn't tell us!"

"A boyfriend?" She looked at Keith. "YOU?"

If he weren't so buzzed he'd have felt insulted.

The girl looked smugly at Lance.

"I thought you said you couldn't get laid."

"Aaaaaaaaaaahaha, no way, when did I say THAT?" the boy tittered, redder than before.

"Mami!" called the girl. "You have to come meet Lance's boyfriend!"

A woman rose from a table and came over to them.

Fucking god. Was this really happening, or was he just floating around some weird dream?

"Why didn't you tell us about your boyfriend?" the woman asked her son.

"Oh, you know, we just wanted to keep it on the down-low…" the boy trailed off.

"Well, now that we've finally met him, you should bring him to our house for supper sometime." Then she turned to Keith. "How about it, ah… What's your boyfriend's name?"

She was looking at her son again, Keith didn't have to say anything. But then he got elbowed in the ribs.

"Keith," he said. He looked over at the sheepishly-grinning boy. "What's THIS guy's name, again?"

"That's just his hilarious sense of humor," the boy said nervously. "He wouldn't forget his darling boyfriend LANCE's name…"

"Yeah, no, that sticks in the head like a frikkin' nail gun."

Shiro had told him about some nail gun accident like that.

Lance's family looked at him like they didn't think nail guns accidents were polite conversation.

"Isn't he so funny?" Lance grinned tentatively.

"That's ONE word for it…" said the girl who had to be his sister.

"Um, anyway, how does Thursday sound?" Lance's mother asked. It took Keith a moment to realize she was asking HIM.

"Oh. Uh…" he glanced at his fake boyfriend and saw a nod. "Yeah, Thursday, great."

Thursday was not great.

"All right! We'll see you then. Dinner starts at seven."

Keith tried to step away but it didn't go so well. His fake boyfriend caught him.

"Ah, look at that, he's such a romantic, you've all got him swooning over this! Lemme go… take him to a fainting couch."

Keith let Lance lead him away.

"Seriously, drink some water," Lance said, picking a glass off a table. It might have been someone's but at least it didn't have lipstick on it.

Keith sipped at the water and tried to think of a way to call off Thursday. These people weren't THAT serious, were they? Lance sure wasn't, he was doing that thing you do when you feel bad for someone, like they're a lost puppy that you think is CUTE but not the fuckable kind of cute. You know. Like the way Shiro felt about him.

"You enjoying the party?" Lance asked benignly, only something about it didn't seem very benign at all.

"No," Keith said.

"Well, would you care for a dance with your handsome boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

Lance sighed.

"I know, minor change of plans. I didn't think we'd get CAUGHT like that, I just didn't want you to get kicked out. But, you're not even having fun anyway?"

"I don't know anybody here and my ride left me and I kind of hate parties."

"Oh. Yeah, that's rough," Lance said. Then he leaned in. Keith felt all warm, must have been the drink. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"That's your grandmother's."

Lance laughed.

"I don't think I even want to know."

Lance seemed like a nice enough boy. But that didn't matter, he would give up eventually. It happened that way a lot, people would come to Keith friendly, realize what a twisted piece of metal he was, and then leave. It wasn't that he never tried. Or that he didn't want more than that. But the repeated failures were wearing on him, and in the end it was just healthier for him not to risk it.

"Well, if you're not having fun and it's all the same to you," Lance said, "You really don't have a reason not to dance with me."

Maybe if Keith were sober he'd have questioned that logic. But he wasn't, and right now it made a strange amount of sense.

"Sure, all right, then," he said. He thought Lance looked at least a little bit surprised.

"As your FAKE boyfriend, of course," Lance added as he put out a hand.

"Yeah, obviously."

It was a slow dance, Keith would have died if it wasn't. He wondered if anyone would tell Shiro about this… but how many of them knew he came with Shiro, probably none of them. Or all of them. Either way.

He was already warm from the drink, his cheeks must have been so red, the world was too wobbly to tell if the other boy was a good dancer. It really had to have been the alcohol that made this not suck, because it definitely would have been intolerable without it.

Something smelled kind of nice. Was that coming off of Lance? He leaned in before he could stop himself.

Someone thumped him on the back, and he jumped.

"Go get him, tiger!"

Grandma.

"Jeez! Don't do that!" Keith said, but Grandma was already walking away. Then he saw Lance holding a hand to his cheek.

"Did I just hit you in the face?"

"Yeah, kinda."

He put a hand over Lance's.

"I am SO sorry. I promise I wouldn't do that if I wasn't your boyfriend."

Lance laughed.

"Don't worry about it, tiger."

Maybe Lance WASN'T a bad dancer, it really was impossible to tell but it was clear he was the only reason they were both standing. Dang. He must have thought Keith was naturally terrible at this, alcohol or no. Keith didn't know why that bothered him.

Was that Lance's family over there watching? They must have thought he was a terrible dancer, too. A terrible dancer and a terrible boyfriend.

"I think they're watching," Keith said.

Lance came close and whispered in his ear.

"How good of an actor are you?"

Keith shivered.

"…what?"

"Welp, we're gonna find out."

Lance kissed him.

It must have been the drink that made Keith pull him in. It must have been the drink that made him kiss back.

In the end, Lance looked more out of breath than HE was.

"Not so bad an actor after all," Lance said quietly, smoothing a strand of Keith's hair. Keith was surprised by how little he minded that. Definitely the drink.

"So, my friend, what are your digits?"

"Hmm?"

He probably needed more water.

"Phone number."

Oh. Right.

"Uh, 817…"

"In here, you doofus," Lance handed him a phone. His hands were just kind of not doing the thing, though.

"Man, fuck this shit…"

"Never mind," Lance laughed. "Just give me your phone."

Keith wasn't really a "give you my phone" type of person, but it just seemed like too much effort to argue.

Lance handed it back with a new contact called "Your Boyfriend."

"Text me your number?"

Keith texted him the letter Q.

"Awesome," Lance winked. "See you Thursday."