A/N: I have just come to terms with my anxiety. I have been in denial for years. YEARS. I had a week baf mental breakdown after realizing this. So all this context means something.

If you are not in a good mental state don't read this story. It is sad to reflect my grief, I am now coping in healthier ways.

trigger warning.

"-eith? Sir? Hey."

Keith jumped and came to realization at once that he was being called. His chest seized up and he took a shaky quick breath in.

"Yes?" He asked then realized he was holding up the line piling up behind him, "Oh sorry-yes."

"Keith what would you like?" The worker, referred to as Pidge asked Keith.

They had been the acting manager for about a month and took their job very seriously. Keith respected that.

"Uh…" Keith put his hand to his chin in a mock gesture.

Pidge checked their watch, the register, then the window outside, and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' quickly to the customer behind him.

"Hmm….lemmethinkjustasec." Keith muttered, looking at the menu up and down and reading it slowly word for word.

He got the same thing everyday.

Pidge blanched, "Dude. Seriously."

"Wherewithal-ing is not good Pidge."

"Wow. That was. Just. You did not use that word correctly."

"Just black coffee."

"That will be $2.00 straight."

Keith snorted lightly but already had the money in his hand. He put it in front of her on the counter. But she didn't take it right away, just kept the conversation going.

"Oh. New streak of five….hundred." Pidge muttered sarcastically to Keith, "Are you sure you just want this? I can throw in a muffin on the house."

"What?"

The world seemed to drop from under him.

Pidge looked him up and down, "Looks like you need it and you have basically paid half my paycheck by tipping sporadically and semi-daily. You wherewithal me to buy a gamma board. Now that was the correct use of that work Mr. Smartie pants."

"Uh well…." Keith trailed off quietly, losing the joking tone in his voice, "No thanks Pidge..."

He shifted slightly and thrust his money forward for just the coffee.

The line was chattering behind him and Keith closed his eyes for two beats, sighed, then opened them. They stared at each other across the counter. Pidge gave him a 'are you serious?' look as Keith was giving her a dead stare of not to question his reasoning.

"It says 'Katie H.' on my name tag and yet you know my nickname and pronouns. My generosity is bountiful and endless, just me something to you as a friend then. Geez Keith. Don't need to be such a downer, it's just a muffin."

Keith flushed a color of pink, he crossed his arms over his chest.

Pidge noticed, "No need to get defensive dude."

"I'm not getting defensive." Keith shifted his posture, flushing a deeper pink.

Pidge gave him a death glare, putting her hands on the counter.

"I don't need it, its fine. No. No thank you. I don't want it." Keith sighed, looking away.

"Let me lay it out." She started, "Ok. Fine. One black coffee on the house coming up then."

She slid back his money slowly to him on the counter. She abruptly turned around and Keith started sputtering, waving his two one-dollar bills in his hands like she was going to take it.

"You suck but I still like you." Pidge got to making his black coffee.

Then she turned around abruptly.

"Than-"

He was cut off before he even started.

"Keith this is not up for debate." She was already making his order and was almost finished.

"Ok. Fine." Keith shrugged non-nonchalantly but shoved his two dollars in the tip jar, "Fine then."

"Thanks for the tip but it wasn't needed."

Katie slammed down his cup passive-aggressively on the counter, the top almost popping off from the force.

"Thank you." Keith said sternly.

You're welcome." Pidge returned with equal fervor.

.

He didn't come back til' a week later.

Pidge was slightly hurt but it hurt Lance more, who wasn't there that his (maybe) favorite customer didn't come when he had been 'a daily' for so long.

A couple days later after Keith's week strike Lance was at the register minding his own buisness.

"Coffee please. Black."

Lance turned around quickly, recognizing the voice coming from someone whom he liked.

Keith.

Keith came up to the counter looking tense but tired in manner.

Keith did not look so hot today, he looked tired.

"Hey where have you been?" Lance inquired, squinting.

"I was here yesterday." Keith shrugged, looking Lance in the eye.

"Oh…must of been during my break then…working hard...huh...were you really here?" Lance trailed off.

"No I came around four pm." Keith said with sarcasm.

Keith and Lance both knew that Keith wasn't there.

"Oh." Lance dead panned.

"Yep. Had work to do and a messed up sleeping schedule anyways." Keith fidgeted.

Keith went most everyday fall, summer, and spring. Winter it was too cold most day to travel because walking was Keith's main mode of transportation.

It was hard, really hard, keeping away from the coffee shop every week at first.

But eventually it had become a habit. A habit he hated but he went with it.

Keith tried hard not to go to the coffee shop everyday but he still went everyday or as much as he could. He ended up going only a couple of days a week now. There was a new running joke with Lance that Keith was dating other coffee shops and what would Lance do if Keith left him for good?

Often Keith analyzed Lance's tone and his face and oftentimes found that there was genuine hurt in Lance's eyes. The joke was meant to make things lighter but it kinda wasn't a joke now.

It was real.

This made Keith's stomach twist and he knew it wasn't from hunger.

So Keith invested in a coffee machine at home, knowing it was a bad idea from the first cup of coffee. He now drank six coffees a day and this suppressed his appetite even further. He missed walking into the shop before work.

He missed the feeling of seeing someone familiar that knew him even though there was a clear line in between the two boys.

Keith was starting to feel lonely.

So he took it one step further and bought a bulk pack of coffee packets from Amazin-zon.

He didn't go to the coffee shop where Lance worked at for two months straight.

Keith could feel himself slipping.

So he let himself fall.

"What would you like sir?"

"Black coffee."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"It's….original."

"Thanks."

That was the first conversation between Keith and Lance between them after three months of Keith drinking his homely coffee.

Keith missed home and he hated to admit it even to himself but Lance felt like home to him after being apart from him for a while.

The black haired boy was just too scared to get close to anyone.

Keith walked up to counter, taking the familiar coffee shop in.

He felt as if the world was at a slight tilt.

It was overstimulating yet lovely at the same time.

This fact brought tears to Keith's eyes and Keith was upset that he was upset.

"What would you like sir?" Lance looked up from his sheet. He didn't recognize the person who walked in and was trying to serve this customer while getting work done. Lance let the silence go on, checking things off the sheet in terms of stock and how much they needed to order.

The person-seemingly a man-thin-stepped up closer to the counter. Lance didn't know who it was. Why would it be Keith? Keith ditched him the day before Lance was going to ask him out for a date. The Cuban boy kept on checking off boxes, whistling, and another box off the sheet. Yep. Yep. Yep. Yep. The flow of customers was higher on Mondays for some god given reason.

Lance continued the corporate survey, the customer was probably gawking at the menu. A first timer, Lance chuckled to himself inwardly.

Lance remembered the first time he went into a coffee shop. It happened to be the one he now worked at where he found a place he finally fit in.

Unseen to Lance, Keith picked his head up, dark circles rimmed his eyes.

"Mocha with three pumps of caramel and two dashes of milk."

Lance's head snapped up at his voice.

"Keith?"

The used to be regular in question swayed.

Lance's mouth dropped open, he almost did the same with the clipboard that he held in his hand. The two adults stared at each other.

Lance closed his mouth, "Sorry mist- Keith. I'm. Oh. OH MY GOD! Its you!"

A range of emotions passed through Lance's face and Keith just nodded once at this. He knew what Lance was talking about, Keith experienced it firsthand. Keith experienced it deep in his soul while dwelling at three am.

"It's ok." Keith leaned against the counter taking a big breath in.

"It's just-A long time and well...this order, you look like you...? And- I'm-" Lance mustered a polite smile. He didn't know what to say and trying to get something out.

It was not working.

"Thanks, I guess." Keith looked disgruntled about this but he took out his wallet.

"Before I make your order, are you sure you are going to make it man?"

"I'm fine." Keith tone darkened.

"Ok." Lance set the clipboard down, gazing at Keith with worry, "Just shout if anything is up."

Lance nodded to himself, quickly flicking Keith a glance, trying not to stare at the boy.

He looked like...he looked. Lance nodded to himself again and wanted to make sure the damnest that he would get Keith's order and maybe a piece of fruit on the side. He cared.

As Lance made the unusual concoction in the empty establishment, he caught glimpses of Keith shaking his head and leaning heavier and heavier into the counter more and more.

Lance hurried making the weirdly calorific drink. Maybe Keith was... No...

As Lance tried looking at the raven haired male, he noticed that Keith looked so very out of it. He looked like the walking dead.

This all pointed to the alarming signs of mental deterioration. The most apparent in the moment was the fact that Keith could barely stand.

"Hey bud-Keith, you ok?" Lance put down the milk carton in his hand on the counter.

"Dizzy, I'm fine though, it'll pass." Keith held his head, squeezed his eyes shut.

Lance moved from around the back of the counter.

The swaying boy in black breathed in once, trying to compose himself and Lance moved in closer.

"Keith please sit down." Lance was almost touching Keith's shoulder.

"I'm alright Lance." Keith blinked slowly, "I'm alright."

"Keith please you are scaring me. SIt dOwn." Lance held back from taking Keith's arm.

Keith paused, "One thing though."

"Hm?"

"I would like my drink to-go."

Lance took a step to Keith, almost touching him.

Keith collapsed.

"Fuck." Lance cursed as he caught Keith.

It all happened quickly yet in slow motion. Lance crumpled under Keith's form as the boy in black was dead to the world.

Twenty minutes later and an almost call to have an ambulance come, Keith was now seated in a side booth, Lance was shoving a small fruit cup with the odd beverage in front of Keith.

"I'm not paying for that because I- No. I can't-"

Lance cut him off, "I am."

"I am not going to e-"

"Shut up and eat it. It's the least in calories on the menu and will give you a quick burst of energy as well as energy for longer. I don't care what you think about it." Lance shrugged aggressively.

Keith eyed him suspiciously.

"Just. Fucking. Eat. it." Lance ordered him.

Keith's mouth dropped open then immediately closed. They both stared blankly at each other.

Lance lifted his head, still with the hard state and Keith composed himself then took a piece of fruit, chewing it slowly to appease Lance.

Lance's hands were laced together, intertwined.

"So." Lance cleared his throat, "What's up?"

Lance only knew certain things such as the surface of Keith, like how Keith desperately wanted to go into the Garrison for guns, and how he was a nerd for anything that was remotely aesthetic be it black or not.

But Lance wanted to talk so much but not on his work time, Pidge could come out any second from organizing any second and though she liked talking to her fair share of regulars she was the manager. She kept as close to the business employee handbook as possible.

Lance was scared but cared that Keith got some food and odd beverage in him as soon as possible.

"Here." Lance grabbed a napkin and a pen from his apron; he scribbled something down, "My number so we can…"

Lance looked up and Keith was beet red. Keith must of realized that Lance was hitting on him now. Keith was more alert with a couple of pieces of food in him. Keith didn't know that Lance was moving in such a flirty way and Lance genuinely cared for Keith in a way that he didn't even know himself yet.

"So….we can be friends?"

"Oh." Keith laughed almost breathlessly, "Yes, ok. Cool. Thanks. I'm. Yes."

Keith sipped his drink casually, looking up from his cup coolly and grabbed the napkin that Lance slid across the table.

Lance smiled.

Lance felt a little lost in this exchange but knew it was the right decision.

Lance was good at talking with people and small talk was a thing he was always good at since he was a child. Especially talking with people he met more than once. For Keith, Lance knew that there was so much what Keith was about yet little he knew about him, for one: Keith was a customer at the coffee shop.

There was an obvious bond between the boys; of customer and employee, in service to what the customer asked for.

But in the time they were apart the two young men felt closer together now.

Lance worked to serve the customers at the coffee shop that was run officially by Katie Holt aka Pidge. Lance loved every aspect of his job but he knew it was a barrier: Keith would always be a guy who got coffee a lot and Lance would just be the person who made coffee for anyone who got it a lot.

.

But the look they gave each other over the table implied something more.

Both boys were scared but they both wanted something to happen.

And with the phone number Lance broke that unspoken wall.

"S-so thanks." cleared his throat, "This is nice and f-for a….you to do this for me." Keith finished, cleared his throat.

The word 'stranger' hung in the air but they both knew better since the exchange of the written napkin.

Lance attempted to shift the tension away, knowing what Keith was getting to.

"I need to go back to my shift though it's so weirdly dead in here." Lance smiled then stood, "Bye then?"

"Bye….Lance." Keith picked up his finished fruit cup and half drunk coffee.

Keith was at ease but knew something had to give.

And that was eating again. And drinking water. Definitely to drink water.

Keith breathed out shakily at the thought of eating again, but knew he had to otherwise he would get into trouble.

The two boys knew they had to leave the shop but this was innocence that was so pure, they both didn't want to leave.

The trance was broken by Lance's manager: Pidge poked Lance to alert him of the "lunch rush". Lance only smiled at this when they both knew the lunch rush was always brutal. Lance was floating on a good feeling.

Pidge gave him a suspicious look but shrugged it off.

Keith left, trying to take sips of the caloric drink while walking to get rid of his anxiety. For once in the past few weeks he was feeling tired. It was weird yet at the same time he accepted the feeling.

He wanted to sleep again. He wanted to get better.

Maybe he should go to outpatient treatment to handle this but Keith was scared of that too.

Keith exhaled quickly then took a big breath in, smiling.

He would try.

Slowly.

.

It was a couple of months after Keith collapsed at the coffee shop/diner.

Instead of being in comprimising positions the two boys were making a meal together in unison, it was lunch in Lance's apartment. Keith was actually excited for the meal, not just his body excited to be actually fed but his physical hunger was starting to match up with his mental hunger.

It was scary but he was glad for this. He got to spend more time with Lance and that came with morning walks to Lance's job and talking about the stars wistfully on top of a hill in the middle of the country.

They have never fallen asleep next to each other but that was okay. It almost felt like they were dat...

Not yet.

Their friendship was still fragile but Keith knew that it was going good. The two boys knew this platonic love was something more but it was so nice to know someone who spent a lot of time with you.

Keith's cry for help didn't go unnoticed.

So they bonded over this. It was all ok.

They both took it slow, talking it out and only doing what was comfortable.

The friendship part helped but Keith's mental health was not quite yet ready for them to date eachother.

The raven haired boy had concerns before being romantic and more vunerable with Lance. Keith wanted to eat and he was having a good time cooking with Lance.

Every time he was with Lance it felt so nice and secure.

Keith felt a little tired but he felt pretty good overall.

His nerves were buzzing and it all was a lot. It was just too good to be true.

The outpatient treatment program was going good and finally he was starting to vibe along with his therapist and nutritionist. He was not going to be inpatient since there was too much anxiety centered around control and the main reason was that he was twenty, he was slowly gaining weight. Not quickly but steadily. He needed to hit certain weights and not lose any, maintaining was good only if it wasn't long term and the overall trend was up.

He just had to let go. Keith was scared to do this but he knew it had to happen.

He visited the coffee shop more than ever now but one random Thursday he said yes to the muffin Pidge offered.

She smiled so widely, her eyes sparkled.

Even though the muffin was last week, Keith knew he still had progress to be made. Feelings to be sorted out. Like what started this all. The starving. The overexercising. The overcompensating with coffee.

It was just coping mechanisms taken too far. Keith didn't want to do that anymore.

Keith wanted to keep up the good that what he was doing with Lance, making lunch. They were chatting about everyday things, what they would buy next meal, if Keith should get a houseplant for his apartment or a black cat, and what color in the sky is the prettiest. The conversation smoothed so fluidly that it was like they were lovers?

Keith was unsure on both but glad he could fixate on something else than food for a while.

"What?" Lance's smile turned to a frown.

"What? What did I say?" Keith was confused but knew he just said that thing about food.

He knew how important it was to him and Lance. He wanted this relationship.

After this thought process happened he got a small heart palpitation. He set down the package of spinach he had in his hand and put a hand to his chest.

"Woah." Keith put a hand on the counter.

Lance paid no mind to this, hoping it was nothing and that the upward trend was just good and that Keith wasn't actually in trouble.

Lance was fiddling around with the oven, making sure it was the right temperature to bake the potatoes at. He didn't notice Keith was now swaying.

"Lance-" Keith started to lean against the counter heavier.

Lance turned around, "Oh shit- oh my god- sorry-! What? What?"

He rushed over to help Keith as he started toppling over. Keith was still conscious through all this, black at the very edges of his vision.

"Here." Lance supported half of Keith's weight, "Lets go to the couch."

Keith felt hot and cold flashes all at once; the overall feeling being very chilled.

"M'kay." Keith agreed, his body fatigued in one moment to the next in a flash.

Keith let his weight fall against the couch using it as renewed support and laid down, taking deep breaths in and out.

"Keith…" Lance looked nervous for the first time in a while, "Are…..you….?" He didn't want to say it.

The raven haired boy knew what he was getting at.

"No." Keith took a deep breath in, "No I haven't. I have been thinking about it honestly but no. No."

Lance let out a sigh of relief, "Well...I just thought. I'm sorry I just have heard that relapse is very easy and well that scared me ever since you-"

"Since I fainted at the shoppe? Just like that but unconscious? Sorry but it happened." Keith blurted, "Sorry but since….that?"

"Yea." Lance nodded.

"Well my nutritionist said that my body would feel fatigued and that I would be more tired so I must of been pushing myself too hard. I'm sorry I'm just tired I guess." Keith shrugged, looking at Lance with an understanding glance.

"No! No. It's okay." Lance sat on the couch, Keith scooted over so that he was on his side.

"It's not." Keith sighed, "I thought things were getting better."

Lance nodded at this, pulling the blanket that was laid on the couch backing to cover Keith.

"I just thought that it was better." Keith sighed, slightly pouting.

Lance sighed an empathetic sigh, "Let me explain it to you in a simplified version."

"Go for it." Keith was engaged.

"Mentally?" Lance did a check box in the air, "Yep!"

Keith raised his eyebrows, "And?"

"Physically?" Lance made a buzzer sound, "Nope pal."

"Well when you put it like that…" Keith started.

"Don't get sarcastic with me."

"But you basically summed up what my nutritionist has been saying. I just didn't think of it in that simple of terms." Keith said plainly, no jokes intended from the start.

Lance hummed, inquiring, "Hmmm maybe she is onto something. What is even her name anyways?"

"Allura."

"And your therapist?" Lance asked.

"Uhh…." Keith thought about it, "Hunk...or…. Hank? No wait. It's Hunk."

"They both want you to call them by their first names?" Lance

"Oddly enough….yea."

"Huh." Lance nodded, "Well...Ok."

"I know."

"So are you taking time off of your job?"

"You know I can't otherwise I could get let go."

"But you are working at home more then?"

"Five out of seven days now."

Lance could tell that Keith's job was starting to get to his mental health.

"Can't you just talk to your boss?"

"No Lotor is acting manager right now and he is grinding into my ass about being 100 percent precise and that the Boss Zarkon will be back soon. He is slightly better but it's just…..Sorry. I guess this sounds boring, it ain't like my old job."

"Which was?"

"Blade work."

"You….really?"

"Yep I wielded them which meant fucking around with the weapons it took me hours to make and I was doing an all day work grind. With metal."

"Thats…."

"No don't say it!"

"Metal. Its metal Keith."

"Goodness you make it sound like I am a man who hits metal all day. I actually have other duties now like community planning and putting on events for the business. It's fine work I like it but it pays really well so I'm not complaining. I think I would like it more if I had more energy though."

"Wait...you get paid to plan the community?" Lance asked.

"Yes." Keith nodded, knowing he forgot to tell Lance the fact he now technically worked one point five jobs.

"And that is working on your mental health and eating more…" Lance finished for Keith before he even said it.

"Yep." Keith closed his eyes, "That's right."

"Keith…" Lance was staring at him, "Where did you put all your?"

"What?" Keith crossed his arms over his chest, "Blades? Cutting objects?" Keith's mood shifted and he stood up quickly, stumbled a step then righted himself.

Lance had his hand out, in a 'give me' gesture.

"I'm fine." Keith's mood shifted, "I will tell you. But that doesn't mean that I can find other ways. I am addicted. I use pain via starving and maybe sometimes cutting to console myself. I use it to make myself feel better. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I have a damn good job. I mean jobs! I have you as a friend almost boyfriend and it is amazing. I drink the most amazing coffee everyday."

Keith's face turned bright red.

Lance stared at him, "B-boyfriend?"

Keith nodded, finally admitting it.

"Oh." Lance starting thinking about it, "That's nice...I...Wow."

Lance started to open his mouth.

"No." Kieth punctured, "Let me finish. Just wait. We can talk about you being a boyfriend later."

Keith continued, "The reason for me doing this was something that happened only once and then I did it again and again, knowing it wasn't healthy and then it just kept going and going and here I am now with sliced up arms, an underweight bmi, and such low, low self esteem. Nothing seems to help."

His voice was hollow, "I don't know who I am."

Lance took a big breath in.

Keith acknowledged this by nodding to his boyfriend. No, friend for now.

For now.

The sun was setting now, casting a glow of orange around the room.

Lance sighed and said, "You know I think we should gather them up."

"What I just said still applies." Keith looked away, "But I think it will help."

.

Later the two men were in the dining room.

It was casual now, the two letting the outburst simmer down to a dull roar. It was both on their minds but they wanted to fix it. Later. They both knew later would be the best.

Dinner was winding down, Keith was at the table, scraping his food goo (It was a curry actually.) off his plate like a good little boy.

He ate his food like he was suppose to. He insisted on healthier foods but sometimes got the short end of the stick being chocolate cake or something unnecessarily high in calories. Even though Keith didn't agree with the choices most of the time, the food was amazing, Lance was a damn good cook and Keith couldn't help but eating a bit more than planned each time Lance cooked.

The trend of his weight was still upwards.

Keith half full all the time, craving to be empty but at the same time his body was super hungry all the time, taking advantage of the food that Keith was now feeding his body, caring for it. He only half listened to what his body was saying now.

It was a month after the outburst and Keith's collapse in the kitchen.

And it was taking a toll on Keith.

Keith was starting to lose weight slowly again but not at an alarming rate so Lance didn't notice. It was only a small amount. Lance but didn't say anything about it. Keith knew this wasn't good but he wanted to for some god given reason.

He didn't want to do it.

So he canceled his nutritionist and other doctor. He can't even remember their names...

Keith knew he had a problem…

.

It was two weeks after Keith knew it was becoming a problem again.

"Keith?" Lance was confused looking up from his book.

Keith blinked.

A passage of time happened where he just didn't remember. He was so confused.

Keith was standing in the doorway.

He had a tear stained face and was holding himself in a very nervous way, Keith did know how this happened.

"I did it and I don't know how I can stop." Keith sobbed, collapsing into himself.

His arms suddenly hurt, they felt hot, flashy, and sour.

"What-" Lance bolted upright from his position on the couch, "What is wrong- What did you do? How can I help?"

"I don't know-" Keith latched onto Lance's arm, searching his eyes crazily.

"You do; that is why you came to me-!" Lance returned with equal veracity.

Lance was searching Keith's face. For anything. Any hint.

Keith said something through his sobs and Lance asked him to repeat himself, he couldn't understand what Keith was saying.

"I took too many." Keith said clearly, bowing his head shamefully.

Lance's heart dropped at this.

"How many and how long ago?"

"M don''t kno. . ." Keith's sobs diminished, tears still down running down his face.

"Hospital." Lance got up and grabbed his keys.

"Ok." Keith knew this was the right thing to do.

The blood was starting to seep through his red sweater.

.

Lance was almost in tears, but staying calm.

For Keith.

An hour later and numerous tests, a stomach pump, and an evaluation; Keith was hooked up to an IV sleeping peacefully, Lance at his side running his hand through his hair.

The weight was down.

His tests were not good. Lance sighed a small sigh and went back to playing with Keith's hair.

Lance was muttering to himself how lucky Keith was after this suicide attempt, he could of lost it all. He could of lost his new love to the depths of his soul. Lance didn't know what to do or which way to turn.

"Hello?"

Lance turned towards the doorway where the soft voice was coming from. The Cuban man was surprised to see a tall, buff abet chubby man with light brown skin.

"I am here to see Keith."

"He's out cold."

The man walked over and stood at Keith's bedside for a moment, surveying him.

"I'm his doctor." The man said.

"Im his close friend." Lance gave him a polite nod.

"Oh and in the flesh. Finally get to meet you."

"You must be Allura or...Hunk?"

"The latter."

Lance usually was all smiles and witty remarks when meeting someone new but he couldn't muster up anything of the happy sort since the state Keith was in. Lance just offhandedly knew Hunk would understand.

Yet Lance mustered up some sort of spark saying, "Did he tell you what he got his tenth birthday?"

"Yep." Hunk's face lit up, "That pink and blue bey blade attached with and."

"Don't forget the red bow on the top and how it glittered."

"And how the cake got demolished."

"Yea…." Hunk trailed off and both boys remembered that was Keith's last "happy birthday" before his mom left and his dad started working a lot.

Some small event that Keith only mentioned when tired but still, both of them knew because of the time they spent with Keith.

It was sweet but sour.

Keith groaned a little, and Hunk and Lance looked to him.

He sat up with an ease of that he had beem awake for a bit.

Lance said nothing.

"So tell me why you are here Keith." Hunk sat down on the chair next to Keith's bedside.

The two started talking.

.

It was two months later.

"Why did you follow me? I'm seriously ok, I don't feel that dizzy anymore."

"Well…" Lance looked away.

There was a soft thump, Keith ignored it and concentrated on being there in the moment. In a grey haze, the bathroom lights flickered. Keith looked around the room then went back to his task of cleaning.

Now it was a couple days later.

Keith made another diagonal cut. He wanted to stop using this coping mechanism. He wanted to recover. He wanted to stop wearing long sleeves since he had worn them ever since he was twelve, exactly right before he entered an internship for his first job.

Off the books of course.

Now he regretted this decision back then.

One cut; one slice.

It made him cringe still of that fatal moment of ill thinking. Who would ever do this, why?! Crazy and now he thought how did get this bad, he was over, head pulsing- blood was on his arm. His shaky hand reached out for the hydrogen peroxide bottle.

He was shaking and he missed. It fell.

"Shit"

There were more thumps and Keith's attention came into focus. The cuts actually hurting more now.

"Hey Keith." It was Lance's voice on the other side.

Keith hopes he would walk away.

"how ya doing in there?" Then, "You know we can make salad for dinner if you want, of course with chicken and a light broth"

Still no answer from Keith.

"-eith? K-?" More banging and Lance tried the door, the knob wiggling.

"I'm fine," Keith was gritting his teeth, pouring the liquid on his arm over the sink, watching it fizzle.

It actually hurt more.

He breathed in.

He didn't want to worry Lance. He didn't think he actually wanted this.

"I just wanted to check on you." Lance said, in a calm voice. "Maybe you want to go out for dinner instead?"

"Ok." Keith said then stated, "I'll be here for a while, I'm going to take a bath.".

"Ok." Lance said in a small voice and against his gut reaction, he walked away from the door.

.

He was out of it. He didn't eat today and the day prior so dots swam around his vision. It was a mess. The blood swirling down the sink was a mess.

But he didn't know what to do.

He was being monitored.

He didn't want to get caught. He just wanted to work his now one job and have a good time with his...boyfriend...Lance.

Keith breathed in shakily.

He quickly grabbed the disinfectant, blade, and bandage wrappers, he put everything away fast. He checked once again. Good. secret safe. The blade was on the counter. It was fine, Lance wouldn't find it.

There was silence from the other side of the the door so Keith assumed that Lance left.

Keith breathed in.

He checked surfaces again, wiped the counter anyways, stuffed the wrappers further down the trashcan and looked at himself. Sleeves were down, good.

There were a couple more knocks on the door.

"Keith?" A soft voice.

It seemed an echo from Lance knocking on the door a couple weeks ago.

Keith replied, "Yes?"

"Coming out soon?" Lance asked.

"Yes, soon." Keith assured and gave himself a hard stare in the mirror.

The circles under his eyes were getting worse again but his skin and still held a small healthy glow. But barely.

That summed up his life as of now: not knowing what he was doing. But before he tried. He ate. He laughed with his close associates. He never let anyone get close to be friends.

But now. Not knowing what to do only brought pain.

He only had to do one thing.

Keith let his head fall.

Then, he hefted his head up and looked into the mirror grimly.

The moment was now to end the sludge grey days.

Keith wanted his life to be significant. Not just for work or anyone around him.

But for himself.

So he had to tell Lance.

About everything and then go from there.

This was just step one to living better and he wanted to take the risk again.