The fight had been a mistake, a big fucking mistake; Keith knew this, but the pictures… honestly, he didn't care about the pictures. Brad deserved it. He deserved everything that had happened to him, everything that was going to happen to him, for everything he did… everything he'd done.
Pain greeted the 17-year-old as he bit back a wince, pressing the once frozen bag of peas against his cheek as he fiddled with the blood caked under his nails. Despite the fight breaking out a few hours ago, he still had dirt and blood littering his clothes, covering his face, embedded under his nails, reminding him that he had fucked up. Reminding him that this was his fault… that he had done something stupid.
His mother had been less than pleased to pick him up from Iverson's office; leaving work early to pick up a son who, up until this point, hadn't been the one that caused trouble. He wasn't Shiro, and for that, his mother was always grateful because her older son had always been a handful… especially in high school.
But now… now, Keith was sitting in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs at the kitchen table, trying his best to melt into the background as he willed the warm bag of vegetables to soothe the bruise on his face that burned every time he breathed. He winced slightly as his mother continued to pace, hands on her hips as she lectured about how violence wasn't the answer and all that bullshit. She wasn't yelling… Keith had only seen her yell twice in his life, and both those times had been at Shiro because of his older brother's ability to seek out trouble; but for some reason, right now, the fact that she wasn't yelling, only made things worse.
His father sighed loudly, and Keith glanced briefly towards the older man who sat across from him, his eyes fixed on Keith, his arms crossed. Keith swallowed loudly, glancing down at his shirt once more as his mother continued, as tears threatened to well in his eyes. Keith wasn't a bad kid; I mean, yeah, he had a tendency to overreact and he had anger issues, but he wasn't a bad kid. He just… he just felt so fucking miserable. He felt betrayed, broken, wrong, and Shiro seeing him like this a few days ago, hadn't helped his situation. Keith was drowning, swimming in pain and heartbreak as his world that he had tried so damn hard to keep to himself, suddenly became the talk of that fucking high school. The looks in the hallway, the alienation of the people he used to hang out with, the "it'll get better" talks from his teachers- all of it was too much, and yet, he was the bad guy in this situation.
Anger coursed through his body as he realized he was clutching the bag of peas in his hand tightly, feeling the once round shape of the squishable vegetable smash under his hand, and he flung the bag on the table harshly as his mother came to a slow stop in front of him. He pressed his hands against his thighs, swallowing thickly as tears filled his vision and his fingers curled around his bruised knees, his fingernails digging through the rough fabric on his jeans forcing the scabbed flesh to reopen.
His mother sighed loudly, "Keith, honey, I mean… what are we expected to do with you now? We can't afford private school, and you only had two months left before graduation. I just, I just don't understand how a straight-A kid goes from being the class president to getting kicked out of school! How does that even happen? I just don't understand! Help me understand, Keith!"
Keith choked slightly, pressing a hand against his eyes, stopping any tears from falling as he cleared his throat softly, pressing his hand back against his knee as he glanced up slowly. He coughed several times, trying his best to choke down the lump trying to form in his throat, trying his best to pretend that everything was okay, that he was okay, and that everything was going to be alright… it had to be alright….
The music was too loud. Echoing off the walls around him, banging against the doorframes and making the stupid green liquid in his red solo cup ripple slightly, splashing against the rimmed edge. Keith frowned, leaning back against the stale wallpaper, closing his eyes briefly as people pushed past him, making their way to the middle of the living room where some guy was attempting to fulfill his dreams of becoming the next Eminem.
The 19-year-old sighed, shoving a hand in his pocket as he continued to clutch the plastic cup. He wasn't really sure why he came… hell, he wasn't ever sure why he came to parties considering he hated crowds. He couldn't even blame Shiro this time considering his brother was still working and would be for at least a few more hours. But with the stress of midterms starting tomorrow and everything that happened at the Castle a few days ago… Keith really needed something to take his mind off things.
Lance had been more finicky than normal; dodging plans and study meet-ups, avoiding Keith at almost all costs, and even though it shouldn't, it was really starting to piss the 19-year-old off. He knew he had crossed a line when he had tried to kiss the younger boy back at the treehouse, but Lance hadn't tried to pull away, he hadn't tried to stop him… and he hadn't brought it up. It wasn't surprising considering he had a girlfriend but still, the older boy was hopeful. It was stupid beyond belief. I thought we could be friends… I have a girlfriend.
…The 19-year-old pressed his chin against Lance's shoulder as the younger boy continued to cry, wrapping his arms around his midsection, pulling him as close to him as he possibly could. He gulped loudly, swallowing back the panicked tears that threatened to swell in his eyes as he tried to keep calm, because crying wouldn't help the situation, it wouldn't help Lance right now… no matter how much this freaked him out.
He took a slow breath as he tried to remember what his mother or Shiro used to do whenever he had nightmares, tried to remember what had helped him through the nights where memories were the only thing he had, and when sleep was the only thing that seemed impossible. He closed his eyes, part of him wishing Lance would calm down on his own, the other part wishing, hoping that his parents or Shiro would wake up… fuck, he'd even take Allura right now.
"I like that you're broken, broken like me," He whispered softly, sniffing slightly as he felt Lance relax a little, his legs falling against Keith's sweaty knees. Keith swallowed, "I like that you're lonely, lonely like me…"
He pressed Lance against him as the younger boy grasped at his hands, pulling his fingers tightly against his, and the 19-year-old resisted the urge to wince as he continued…
Something nudged at his ribs harshly and Keith jumped, directing his attention towards Hunk and Pidge. Considering he had been occupying this wall since he arrived, the older boy had nearly forgotten he had come with someone. He raised an eyebrow slowly, "What?"
Pidge snorted, shaking her head slowly as she took a long sip from her cup, leaning back against the wall as Hunk ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. Hunk sighed, "I was asking you if you saw the new Power Rangers film… and then I was asking if anything weird went down when you were at your parents."
Keith pushed himself away from the wall as he felt his face heat up. He swallowed nervously, clutching the cheap cup, "Why!"
Hunk gave him a weird look, "Wow, dude. I was just asking because Shay has been saying that Allura and Shiro are getting married… and like, I didn't know if something happened…"
Hunk trailed off, his eyes tracing over Keith's features as the older boy leaned against the wall once more, pressing his spine against the stupid pink wallpaper, harshly. He ran a hand through his hair gradually, taking in a slow breath as his mind flashed to his brother, his eyes spotting Allura across the room talking to Shay and another girl he didn't recognize. Were they getting married? Honestly, the thought hadn't really ever crossed his mind, but it made sense. Those two had been dating for almost three years, and after a small rough patch, they were completely devoted to each other. It was kind of disgusting… in a romantic type of way. But married? Was his delinquent, spent the night in jail twice as a teenager, come home drunk a few times, and never serious older brother actually getting married?
"… I mean, Lance has been completely out of it lately, and dude, I'm telling you, he's off his meds or something. He won't talk to me about it. He never does; I'm just the guy who has to pick up the pieces, and-"
Keith turned his attention back towards Hunk at the mention of Lance's name. He wasn't really sure what they were talking about or what the question was, but the way Hunk was talking, made the situation seem important. Pidge nodded slowly before slapping Hunk on the arm and nodding towards the door, "Speak of the devil."
The 19-year-old followed her gaze and sucked in a short breath as his eyes connected with Lance. A small smirk crossed his face as he tuned out the rest of Pidge and Hunk's conversation, watching the younger boy stop briefly and talk to someone at the door. The 18-year-old glanced towards Keith's direction and smiled widely, the goofy expression lighting up his whole face as he waved slightly. Keith nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, forgetting about the cup of liquid crushed in his right hand that was dripping from the misshaped rim. The music changed rapidly, fading from an amateur rendition of some rap to another immature and badly collaborated rave song, and Keith swallowed.
The teenager bit his lip as Lance made his way towards them, his hand grasped around someone else's and Keith held his breath as his eyes connected with a small blonde girl with green eyes… Lacey. Beside him, Hunk and Pidge groaned, and he turned to see Pidge shuffling with her bookbag, placing her empty cup on the table next to her before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Confusion crossed his face as she turned, giving them a half-smile before saying, "Well, that's my que. I'll catch you guys later; going to go kick my brother's ass on Call of Duty."
Hunk sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Yeah, man. I should probably go to. A lot of essays due Friday, and besides, I'm pretty sure Shay has work tomorrow."
"Wait. What?" Keith questioned nervously, running a hand through his hair as he realized he was about to be left alone with the one person who seemed to currently be avoiding him. He reached towards Hunk, putting his hand on his shoulder, hoping, praying that the other boy would stay, not for Lance's sake, but for his own. Hunk cleared his throat, "Look, dude. Lance is great and everything, but Lacey… she's, well honestly, she's-"
"A bitch," Pidge cut him off, reaching beside her for a handful of cookies. Hunk laughed nervously, "She's not that bad. I mean, she's-"
Pidge shook her head, "No, dude. She's a bitch. And a possessive one at that. She once told me that I should back off of Lance and focus more on what I look like versus trying to get with someone already taken… and this was after me telling her, I was asexual."
Hunk pushed the shorter girl away gently, "Don't listen to her, Keith. Look, Lacey's just… yeah, no, she's a bitch. But Lance has been with her since high school and I don't really see that changing anytime soon, so, like, either play by her rules or leave, man. For him."
Keith bit his bottom lip as he pushed his hands in his pockets, trying to decide whether or not he should leave as Lance made his way over, shoving the older boy's shoulder gently, "Hey, man. Where's everyone going?"
The 19-year-old shrugged, glancing at Lance briefly before looking towards Lacey, smiling slightly as he extended an awkward hand. The girl took his hand slowly, before curling her arm back around Lance's bicep, her fingers sliding down gracefully until they clasped around Lance's slender ones… soft wet fingers brushed against his cheeks and jaw, and he felt his body relaxing slowly. He felt fingers pushing his wet hair away from his face as he took a breath, as he was pulled closer...
"So, Keith, this is Lacey. Lacey, Keith," Lance said, glancing down at his girlfriend, smiling widely as he gestured towards Keith. The 19-year-old ran a hand over the back of his neck, letting his nails scrape against his skin as his eyes met Lacey's, and a shiver ran down his spine. She was pretty… well, she was wearing a ton of makeup, but she was pretty. She had very feminine features and the thick mascara and bright red lipstick defined every bit of that… She was probably the type of girl guys constantly commented on, the type of girl who thrived on the attention and was consistently told how beautiful she was growing up. Keith couldn't compete with that. Fuck, if Lance had been with her since high school, then Keith didn't even stand a chance.
Lance wiggled his way out of Lacey's grasp, causing her to whine slightly. He turned, giving her a soft smile, "I'm gunna get us some drinks. Keith, refill?"
The older boy glanced down at his cup, realizing that most of it had spilt on the floor below him soaking into his red converse, and he blushed slightly, before nodding, handing his cup to Lance. He watched as the 18-year-old bent down, pressing his lips against Lacey's as she grabbed at his collar, pulling him closer, pressing him harder against her body, and Keith felt sick. He let out a shaky breath, clenching his fist, pressing it harder against the wall behind him as he tried to pull his eyes away from the scene, as he tried to look away. I have a girlfriend.
Lance wrapped his arms around her waist, ghosting a hand up her body gently, running his fingers through her hair as he pressed his lips once more against hers. Lacey opened her eyes, glancing towards Keith as she pressed her hand against the younger boy's neck, grinning slightly as Lance trailed down her cheek, jaw, neck; and Keith forced his head against the wall behind him, locking his knees, swallowing harshly against the weight sitting in his stomach. He couldn't compete. He would never be able to compete. Fuck, he wasn't even in the same league.
Lacey pushed Lance away playfully, letting her hand fall from his grasp as he shoved his way passed a couple making their way sloppily up the stairs. Keith let his eyes follow the younger boy until he disappeared past the kitchen doorway, and he turned his attention back towards Lacey. He cleared his throat softly as he noticed she was staring at him… intently. It was uncomfortable, and it made him feel nervous.
She snorted slightly as she pulled out her phone, "You know you don't stand a chance with him, right?"
"Ex-excuse me?" Keith said, pushing away from the wall as she glanced up, grinning. She ran a hand through her hair, letting the long blonde strands fall from her fingers lazily, before glancing back down at her phone again. She sighed, "It's pathetic, actually. The way you chase after him, like he could ever be with someone like you… Look, Brad told me what actually happened, and I can't believe you did that to him. Like I said, it's pathetic."
Keith's breathing caught in his throat as he glanced towards the spot Lance had been just minutes ago, then towards a few people in the living room. Despite the loud music echoing off the walls around him, he felt like the whole damn room was tuning in on their conversation, he felt like everyone was listening, that everyone knew… Was it that fucking obvious?
…The 17-year-old bit his lip harshly as tears threaten to spill down his face, "P-please, don't do this!"
The older boy laughed, pushing Keith against the wall harshly as the music changed in the other room, "Do what, huh? I was just using you. I mean, it's not like someone like me could ever be with someone like you. You're pathetic… You meant nothing to me, Keith. You should leave before you embarrass yourself."
The older boy turned to leave, and Keith reached out, grabbing his hand tightly as the other boy shook him off harshly. Concern flashed across his face briefly as Keith slumped against the wall, and for a moment, just one split moment, the 17-year-old caught a glimpse of the boyfriend he used to have. Keith swallowed thickly, "Please. It's not my fault."
The other boy scoffed, shaking his head quickly, "Go home, Keith. You're drunk."
The teenager watched as the older boy left, slamming the door behind him, cutting him off from the rest of the party filled with intoxicated horny teenagers, leaving Keith alone as he pressed his head against the wall behind him. He gulped loudly, swallowing against the nausea bubbling in his stomach as he tried to hold onto anything he could to keep him from drowning, to keep him from falling, from breaking… again…
"I- I don't," Keith started, running a shaky hand through his sweaty hair, glancing back towards Lacey as she scoffed, "I'm sure you don't, honey. But in case you do, just know, he's mine. Lance does this thing where he takes on someone every year. Someone he feels sorry for, kind of like mentoring a lost, abandoned puppy that no one wants. Call it charity work if you want. Anyway, by the time summer rolls around, you'll just be a distant memory to him. So, chase after him all you want but he'll never date you… besides he has standards, and honestly, Keith, you don't meet any of them."
Keith cleared his throat as green and yellow lights filled the small room, exposing to the world the feelings he hoped would dissipate, exposing to the world the feelings he had for Lance… the feelings everyone in this whole damn room apparently knew. How pathetic… Please… don't do this…
Keith bit his bottom lip, feeling his fingernails dig into his palm as he realized he was clenching his hand, as he realized he was angry, "You're a bitch."
Lacey cocked her head slightly, innocence filling her eyes as a smirk toyed at her lips, "I might be a bitch, but at least I'm not the pathetic puppy in this scenario."
Keith broke eye contact, swallowing thickly as he pushed passed her, running into Lance as the younger boy was slowly making his way back towards them. He gave Keith a confused look before glancing down at the liquid splashed against his shirt, and the older boy shoved passed him roughly. You're a fucking idiot, Kogane. I thought we could be friends… You seemed cool. He reached in his pockets, hoping, begging that his earbuds were somewhere in them, tangled in an unbelievable mess because right now, he needed something, anything to take his mind off Lance. He needed to leave, one way or another, because everything was too much right now. He felt exposed, embarrassed, and stupid. Lance was just a guy… an unavailable guy, and Keith? Keith was just some moron in the way.
The music around him changed and Keith found himself being shoved in every direction as people around him tried their best to recreate what seemed to be a poorly planned mosh pit. Keith shoved a guy against a wall forcefully, hearing the guy curse loudly, and he turned to apologize before pushing passed some couples making out on the couch. He needed to leave, to get some fresh air, he needed a distraction, and the fact that he didn't have his phone, or earbuds wasn't helping the feeling crashing over him. He needed to escape. Otherwise… otherwise, he was going to lose it. Fuck, he was losing it… every fucking time he saw Lance, he was losing it. And it was his own damned fault. He couldn't help it. You're in too deep, Kogane. He's going to hurt you, and you're going to let him… I know you don't have many friends.
Keith forced his jacket tighter around himself as he pushed his way towards the door, feeling people's eyes on him as he tried to choke down what little air made it past his lips. He needed to get out of here, away from everyone, away from this school, away from Lacey, and the hell away from Lance. What was he even doing here? Trying to chase after a boy he should clearly hate, after a boy who was clearly taken. You trying to get with my girl, Kogane? God, you're such a pain in my ass… You're my fucking problem, you fucking fair-
The 19-year-old swallowed loudly, shoving the heavy door forcefully, breathing deeply as brisk night air filled his lungs, reminding him that he was okay. Reminding him that he was still alive. Reminding him that this didn't really matter. You know you don't stand a chance with him, right? How pathetic… you're pathetic, and you weren't worth a whole year.
"Keith!"
The teenager bit his bottom lip, and continued walking, trying his best to ignore Lance's voice as he called his name again. Right now, in this moment, this exact moment, the last thing he wanted was to see him, to talk to him, to explain to him the feelings living inside him, the ones he was pretty sure were going to eat him up inside, the reason he left. He didn't need this. Not now, not again. He shoved passed a guy drinking some type of cheap beer, kicking at some leaves littering the ground as he heard heavy footsteps running after him, and the 19-year-old cursed inwardly. He paused, stilling as his foot collided with the first part of hard concrete as he waited for Lance to catch up... it was pointless to leave because the younger boy would just follow him.
"Keith! Where are you going, man?" Lance asked, pausing briefly as he sucked in a harsh breath. He bent over momentarily, catching his breath before glancing back up at the older boy. Keith pushed his hands in his pockets, pulling his red jacket closer as he turned towards Lance, shrugging his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced behind the older boy, towards Lacey standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked mad. Good. At least I'm not the pathetic puppy in this scenario… so it meant nothing then, Mullet? That's good to know…
Lance smirked slightly, straightening his posture, "Ah, come on, dude, don't be like that."
Confusion crossed Keith's face as he focused his attention back towards Lance. Saddened anger washing over him in embarrassing waves, and he wished Lance would leave. He wished Lance would leave him alone. He cleared his throat, swallowing against the sick feeling in his stomach, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, "What are you talking about? I just- Lance, I just have a lot of studying to do and midterms start tomorrow, so honestly, I should probably be focusing on-"
"It's because of Lacey, right?" Lance asked flatly. He crossed his arms, the goofy smirk on his face morphing into a solid frown, and Keith coughed slightly. He sighed loudly and shook his head as wind rushed past them, forcing the plastic cups littering the ground to glide through the grass in a chaotic rush. Someone yelled from across the street, and a beer bottle fell from one of the branches beside them, and the 19-year-old resisted the urge to look up. Keith shivered harshly, realizing that the dread feeling weighing in his stomach wasn't from Lacey… it was from Lance. He swallowed thickly, fighting against the sick feeling once again bubbling in his stomach as anger coursed through his veins. You're going to lose it. You're going to lose it. You're going to-
"See, Mullet, I knew you would do this," Lance said, shaking his head slowly. Keith froze, gritting his teeth, "What are you talking about, McClain."
Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair as he straightened his posture again, glancing behind him briefly before turning back towards the older boy, "Look, man. I can't help it if you have feelings for me, just like I can't help it if I don't have the same feelings for you. It's not my fault."
Keith scoffed softly as a lump threatened to form in his throat and he turned to his left, pulling his jacket closer, watching Hunk and Shay making out against Hunk's shitty yellow car. I thought we could be friends. He nodded slowly before turning back towards Lance, "Wow. You know what? Screw you, McClain. Screw you, and everything about you. You, you and Lacey- you deserve each other."
Lance bit his lip as Keith turned to leave, "Keith, listen, that's not what I m-"
Keith pushed him away slightly, "No. You're fucking with my mind, Lance. And I'm done. I can't do it anymore. Clearly, we can't be friends, so I think we should go back to being rivals, or whatever it is you called us."
"Keith," Lance reached for him again, putting his hand on the older boy's shoulder as Keith shook him off, feeling tears welling in his eyes and he wiped at them roughly with the sleeve of his jacket, laughing slightly, "And you know, you know what the most pathetic thing is? Every time, every fucking time we're together, I think, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't say something stupid. Maybe you wouldn't ruin it… fuck, maybe, there was one guy at this school who I could actually-"
"That's not my fault. Maybe if you weren't so uptight all the damn time, then other guys would actually enjoy being around you… I can't help it that the only guy here who seems to give a fuck about you is Brad. Maybe you should go chase after him instead," Lance said, stepping forward as Keith stepped back, snorting forcefully. Keith clenched his fists tightly, feeling anger flowing through him as he realized Lance knew, "There you go. Congratulations, Lance. You're officially an asshole. Why don't you go back to that girlfriend of yours; I'm sure she'll be more than happy to help you with your sleeping problem."
Lance nodded slowly, anger flashing across his face briefly and Keith glanced down to see the younger boy's hands balled into fists. He smirked slightly, "You going to hit me, McClain? Do it then. Let some of that anger out, because from what I hear, you've been off your meds lately. I'm sure it'd feel good to take it out on someone else."
The younger boy glanced down at his hands, swallowing quickly before straightening his fingers, pressing a shaking hand against his thigh, "You know, Lacey told me what you did- to Brad, in high school. That's fucked, man. Even for you. Maybe if you loosen up every once in a while, then you wouldn't have so much anger coursing through you… maybe someone at this fucking school would actually want to be with you then."
"Is that what you think? That's my problem, then? I'm just the uptight asshole who needs to loosen up. You know, maybe you should look in the mirror, Lance, because I'm not the one with the girlfriend and family issues," Keith said slowly, pulling his hoodie over his head. He wished Lance would leave, he hoped Lance would leave… otherwise he was going get hit; something, someone was going to get hit because Keith was losing it. He sucked in a slow breath as he leaned against the tree next to him, willing, wishing his fucking feet would move. He didn't need this, he didn't need to take this… normally, he would've already done something stupid… but hitting Lance, fuck, the idea of hitting Lance, hurt more than the words spilling past the younger boy's lips.
Lance pulled his arms over his chest, shivering slightly, "You know what, Mullet? We're done. I can't be friends with you anymore. So, stop trying to get with me. Go fuck Brad or someone. Because maybe then, you wouldn't be such an uptight jerk."
Lance turned, wincing slightly as the words left his mouth and he heard Keith mutter, "Fuck you, Lance."
…
Lance pressed his back harder against the ugly wooden wall behind him, letting his legs slide out in front of him until he was sitting on the ground, his long legs blocking people's paths, making them trip drunkenly. He closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his fingers glide over the rubber bands on his wrist, and he bit the inside of his lip. He sighed loudly, banging his head against the wall behind him as the music changed and someone kicked at his ankle. Congratulations, Lance… you're officially an asshole.
The 18-year-old swallowed, blinking slowly as the room came back to him in a fuzzy blur, and the night's events crashed over him. He was a fucking jerk… no, he was beyond a jerk. He was an asshole. Keith was right.
His eyes scanned the crowd slowly, trying to peer past the dimly lit room, trying to make out a familiar face as anger washed over him. He needed someone right now, anyone… and the one person who probably wouldn't have minded staying with him, currently thought he was the biggest asshole in the world. Lance swallowed thickly, staring down at his wrists as he tried to think about anything, anything except what he had done, what he had done to Keith- what he had done to himself.
He pulled his left leg up, resting it against his chest as he spotted Lacey making out with some guy across the room, and bit his bottom lip. The truth was, Lance knew. He knew about Lacey, knew she screwed around, knew she only cared about him as a possession, a prize… and nothing more. So, walking in on her and some guy after fighting with Keith, really hadn't been that much of a shock to him… but it still hurt. Maybe he never really cared enough about her either, that's why he never broke up with her… then again, maybe it's because he never cared enough about himself to end it with someone who didn't care for him. You think this is normal?
Lance glanced at an abandoned cup sitting next to him, picking it up slowly before grimacing at the liquid sitting inside it. It didn't look like alcohol… which was… unfortunate. He groaned loudly, throwing the cup next to him, running his hands over his face slowly. He leaned his head against the wall once more, hoping the small amount of alcohol swimming in his stomach was enough to get him drunk because right now, that's what he needed, and he was too damn lazy to get up and grab another cup of spiked punch.
…Lacey scrambled for her clothes, pulling her blue shirt over her head quickly, giving Lance a nervous laugh as the guy she had been under just moments ago ran for the door. Lance nodded slowly, letting his tired mind catch up to the events in front of him. He swallowed thickly as he turned towards the closing door, listening to some people cheering outside as the guy pushed his way passed the crowed hallway.
"Lance," Lacey started, and the 18-year-old turned back to see his girlfriend was standing in front of him, her big green eyes fixed on him. She reached down, her hands grasping Lance's shaking ones, and Lance resisted the urge to push her away. He knew… he always knew, and yet…
He stepped back slowly until his hip collided with the desk pressed against the wall, shaking his head. He forced his hands in his jean pockets as Jamie flashed across his mind, as Lacey stepped forward. She took a slow breath, "Lance, baby, this isn't-"
"No, Lace," Lance cut her off softly, running a quick hand over the back of his neck. She stopped, folding her arms over her inside-out shirt, "W-what?"
Lance felt someone nudge his ribs harshly and he opened his eyes, turning to his right to find Allura sitting next to him. He smiled gently, accepting the plastic cup she was holding out for him before turning back towards the crowded living room. Allura took a slow drink before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and clearing her throat, "Hey. Isn't that your girlfriend?"
Lance snorted, pressing the cup against his mouth forcefully before draining its entirety and crushing the cup against the floor, "Not anymore."
"Oh," Allura said softly.
The teenager leaned his head back against the wall once more as Jamie flashed across his mind, and he swallowed thickly as nausea washed over him. He ran a hand through his brown hair, watching Lacey continue to make out with the naked guy from earlier, and briefly closed his eyes. Jamie smirked slightly, throwing some sand in Lance's direction before signing, 'There isn't anyone at this school you like?'
"So, where's Shiro?" Lance cleared his throat, turning towards Allura, watching her take another sip from her cup. She coughed slightly before smirking, "He's at work. There was a competition tonight and he said he'd help out. I actually have to pick him up in an hour."
Lance raised an eyebrow, "So, your cup…?"
Allura shook her head, laughing loudly, "Only water, Lance. Thanks for the concern though."
She turned towards him, smiling gently, taking another drink. She ran a hand through her hair, placing her cup on the floor next to her before pulling the white strands into a messy bun. She sighed loudly, pushing her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles before turning back towards Lance, another smile crossing her face, "Can I tell you something?"
Lance hesitated, confusion etched on his face as he turned back towards the room. The music changed, and several people started cheering as one guy attempted to stage jump off a rather old-looking table. He failed miserably and crashed to the ground; Lance nodded.
"I think- I think Shiro's going to propose to me… in New York," She said slowly. Lance swallowed, his fingers shaking slightly as he fumbled with the zipper on the bottom of his jacket, "Ah." I'm going to ask her to marry me. Over Spring Break- when we're in New York… Lance, honey, you survived the hardest thing in the world. You survived yourself… shit.
Allura nudged his shoulder slightly causing Lance to flinch, "I just have this… feeling, you know?"
Lance nodded again, biting his lip, crossing his arms over his chest, pressing his hands harder against his side, letting his fingernails dig into his shirt, into his flesh. He took a slow breath as he tried to concentrate on what Allura was saying, on the party surrounding him, on anything besides the stupidity he had caused less than two hour ago. He didn't want to be here, anywhere… he didn't want to be surrounded by people. He just wanted to get drunk. He needed it. You survived yourself, you survived yourself. Lance glanced down at the dark lines etched across his wrist, his eyes darting across the multi-colored bands lining his skin. You survived-
"Lance?"
Lance looked up slowly, realizing he had been spacing out again. He swallowed thickly, "Hm?"
Allura gave him a concerned look before clearing her throat, "Where's Keith?"
Anger flooded the 18-year-old's mind as he was reminded that he yet again had fucked with someone, that he had fucked up another relationship he was so desperate to keep. If he had thought Keith had had the problem of pushing people away, then what did that make him? He leaned his head against the wall, shivering slightly as the door next to them opened, letting in the chilly midnight air. He shrugged his shoulders, picking at the red band on his wrist, "How the hell should I know? Ask Brad. That guy always seems to know where he is."
"That's not funny, Lance."
The teenager winced, turning back towards Allura, biting his lip as a seriousness washed over her features and suddenly he felt like a little kid being scorned for something wrong. Lance swallowed, pressing his head harder against the wall behind him, trying his best to disappear, wishing he would, before making an attempt to stand, "I wasn't trying to be funny. Look, Allura, I don't mean to be rude, but-"
"You… really don't know, do you?" She asked cautiously, scooting closer to Lance as the teenager made a move to stand. She grabbed his wrist gently, pulling Lance back down, biting her lip as the 18-year-old fell against the ugly wall with a loud thwack. Something was wrong, off, about Lance- he wasn't acting like himself, and yet, the fact that Lance didn't really seem to give a fuck about anyone right now, was worrisome. But…
Allura held her drink out, hoping Lance would take it as a peace offering. The teenager eyed it carefully before reaching for it, taking a long sip. He didn't hate Allura, hell, he rarely met anyone he didn't like… even Keith. But right now, right here, the only thing Lance wanted was to be alone. The thoughts and feelings were returning, he was having a hard time concentrating and the fact that tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotion of his own doing, wasn't helping him at all. So, yeah, Lance didn't hate anyone… he only hated himself.
He swallowed slowly, letting the cool water coat his dry throat, pretending and wishing it was something stronger, "What are you talking about?"
Allura bit her lip, questions reeling in her mind as she tried to figure out if he had done something, or if he was about to. She knew he had been off lately, she knew Hunk was worried because that was all Shay ever talked about at work… but, he didn't want to talk about it and she didn't want to pry. She cleared her throat, "They used to date."
Lance choked, the water that had been drowning his mouth forcing its way down his throat roughly, some spewing past his lips as he turned towards Allura, coughing, "What? Who?"
"Keith and Brad… in high school, they dated," She said slowly, grimacing slightly as she wiped some water off her shirt, "That guy Shiro was talking about- the one that fucked Keith up… that was Brad… He outed Keith, in front of the whole school, told him he was pathetic, told him he never really wanted to date him, called him names, said things. I mean, Brad destroyed him- all because he didn't want the school to know that the Captain of the football team was dating a guy."
Lance closed his eyes briefly, guilt washing over him, mixing with the little alcohol sitting in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Sick and wrong; and the teenager bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his composure, as he tried to keep from breaking. Congratulations, Lance… You're just an asshole… Go fuck Brad, he's the only guy who seems to give a fuck about you.
He hadn't known. Honestly, he'd thought Keith had outed Brad- at least, that's what Brad had told them, that's the way it had come across. In Brad's eyes, he had done nothing wrong, he was innocent, the victim, and Keith had been the monster, had been the one to out Brad, all because he was jealous. But, if that wasn't true… then… Go fuck Brad.
"I mean, Lance, you saw the small-town they grew up in," Allura continued, taking the cup from Lance and pausing momentarily to take a drink, "Now imagine moving there when you're 12, covered in- well, you know about the accident… let's just say, it took a while for Keith to finally fit in; and a lot of that had to do with Shiro. But Keith- he wasn't, wasn't always so closed off, so uptight, so cold. Hell, he used to be this cool adorkable guy. But after- after that night, Lance, that stupid town only saw him as a 17-year-old gay kid. Well-"
"I have to go," Lance cut her off, pushing himself from the floor harshly and swaying slightly as the room spun. He blinked a few times, his vision clearing before shoving his way past several people, trying his best to make it to the door only a few feet away. He needed some fresh air. He needed to clear his head, to convince himself that he wasn't just another asshole who had fucked Keith up. To convince himself that all of this, the fighting with Keith, breaking up with Lacey, alienating someone he felt something for, hadn't been for any other stupid reason besides him being scared. Lance smiled nervously before turning towards Jamie. He sighed slowly before signing, 'I have something to tell you, J.' …You think kissing boys is normal?
Lance ran a shaky hand through his hair, taking a deep breath, breathing in the overpowering smell of cheap alcohol and sweat as he nudged the door open slowly. Go fuck Brad. What's with you, Mullet? Go fuck Brad. The air hit his face harshly, and the 18-year-old blinked several times, letting his vision readjust to the crowd of wild college kids drunkenly wrestling on the front lawn. He was an idiot. He had been stupid, and because he was looking for any reason, any excuse he could find to convince himself that he needed to stay away from Keith, he was willing to blindly believe Brad. He really should have known.
The teenager stood there for several minutes, leaning against the wooden door frame, his mind reeling with questions he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. Questions he was scared to answer, scared to ask…
…Lance bit his bottom lip as he felt the older boy shift closer, his pulse racing as Keith's fingers stopped at the bottom of his neck, his thumb resting lightly on his collar bone. Lance shivered. His eyes darted towards Keith's lips, resisting the urge to lick his own as the 19-year-old inhaled. The wooden floorboards on the Castle's floor groaned in protest as Keith inched closer, his hand trailing down Lance's neck, stopping over his chest, his palm pressed against his heart. His mind flooded with millions of thoughts, millions of questions he didn't have the answers to, and yet one thought stood out among the rest. Do it, Mullet…
There was no way in hell Lance McClain liked Keith. No way he had feelings for him, for a… Then again… I have something to tell you, Jamie… I like Derek. You think kissing boys is normal? There's no way someone could love you after what you did, what you've done. I thought we could be friends…
Lance pressed his head harder against the door, inhaling slowly as he tried to remember how to breathe properly. He knew something was there… that when he hung around Keith, he felt something. Something he couldn't place; the same feeling he felt when he was talking with Keith's mother in the kitchen, when he was reading the note on the back of the picture, when he felt like he was drowning, and Keith was there. Keith was always there, and that stupid sick feeling flooding his stomach always returned. That's why Lance wanted to avoid him, that's why he came up with any excuse he could to avoid him, because there was something about that feeling, something about Keith that made Lance stupid, that made him nervous, made him feel sick.
The 18-year-old swallowed loudly, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to clear his mind. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and he clenched his fist against his thigh as he tried to figure out what to do, to figure out what he felt towards Keith. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes once again towards the group of drunk college kids trying to wrestle each other, slamming each other against the ground before collapsing in a heap of laughter. Go fuck Brad.
Lance had fucked up. No, he had done more than that… and he needed to make things right before he lost Keith forever. Before the older boy saw the real him, before the older boy decided he didn't want to be friends with him anymore. Lance needed to fix this, so he could figure out what he wanted.
The teenager pushed away from the door cautiously, taking a steady step off the porch, letting his body revel in the falling feeling of stepping off the ledge before making his way into the front yard. He wasn't even sure if Keith was still here… he didn't expect him to be, honestly. But, then again, there was alcohol here, and if Keith was anything like Lance, he'd want to forget. Everything.
Lance made his way around the yard several times, nearly tripping over Pidge who was playing an online game with her brother in the middle of the yard. He walked past Hunk and Shay still going at it on the hood of his yellow Volkswagen and stopped to talk to a few other people he knew, asking if they had seen Keith… asking if they had seen Brad. Lance wasn't really sure what he would do if he ran into Brad, but he wanted to make sure Keith hadn't found him.
The teenager cleared his throat, pausing briefly as he looked towards a miserable leafless tree sitting towards the front of the yard, smirking briefly as his eyes connected with Keith messing with his red hoodie. He made his way slowly towards the older boy, his breathing catching slightly as the thought of what he was going to say screamed through his head, the thought of Keith not wanting to see him.
Keith leaned against the old tree, pressing his sweaty back against the wet bark as he glanced down at the purple liquid in his cup shaking in his hand, and he swallowed weakly. He felt weird. Something in him felt sick, wrong, and his stomach was cramping violently, making him feel ill. He let out a shaking breath, putting the cup on the ground gently and placing his hands on his knees as he glanced towards Lance making his way over towards him. He coughed softly; Lance McClain was the last person he needed right now, the last person he wanted to see right now.
"Keith! Hey," The 18-year-old started, his eyebrows raising slightly as curiosity washed over him. Keith straightened his posture, letting out another cough, clenching his fist as he tried to breathe through the nausea swelling in his stomach. He swallowed again, wincing as the gesture hurt his throat and he pushed Lance's fingers away as the younger boy reached out a steady hand, "Fuck off, Lance."
Keith let out a small wheeze, his head spinning as he glanced down at the stupid liquid in the cup once more before stumbling away from Lance. He stumbled back slightly, his shoulder colliding against the tree he had been resting against. The 19-year-old shook his head softly, trying to clear his head, trying to swallow down the sick feeling rising in his throat as he took another shallow breath. Something was… wrong. He wasn't drunk, well, not really. He hadn't had nearly enough to get him drunk considering he could drink Shiro under the table in high school… but something felt weird, something felt off.
Lance sighed softly, running a nervous hand through his hair as he took another step towards Keith, "Look, Keith. I-I'm sorry. I didn't know- about you and Brad. And what I said about you being an asshole and everything, that was low blow, dude. I'm sorry. I just… I was mad, hurt, and I wanted you to hurt. And what I said, it wasn't right. I- It's just, I think- I might like you or something, mullet. And-"
"We can't be friends, Lance. I can't-," Keith started, closing his eyes briefly as he let out another small pant. He was trying to concentrate on what the younger boy was saying, he really was… but his chest was feeling tighter, and his mind was beginning to panic as it tried to figure out what was happening. He swallowed again, shuddering as his stomach lurched slightly. What the fuck was happening!
"Keith. That's not…I'm trying to," Lance started, his eyebrows scrunching together as confusion masked his features. He took a tentative step towards the older boy, noticing the thin layer of sweat coating his face, how he seemed almost hunched over, breathing sporadically. Keith gulped softly, "I-I, I feel sick."
Lance took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as he let out a strained laugh, "Yeah man, I don't feel that great about it either. But, maybe we could just start over, you know? And, I don't know, maybe you and I could go on-"
Keith let out a loud wheeze as he leaned heavily against the tree, "No, Lance, I- something's-"
Keith coughed roughly, doubling over quickly as his stomach lurched violently, spewing purple alcoholic bile past his lips, and Keith winced again, a strange taste lingering in his mouth. He heard Lance yelp and the older boy crashed to the ground, feeling the wet dew soaking through his pants and shirt as his vision shifted and he found himself staring up at the night sky, his throat aching, burning as he struggled to push air through to his lungs.
His mind was racing, questions flooding his mind as he tried to figure out what was happening, as he tried to place the taste lingering against his tongue. He felt strong hands pressed against his shoulders, Lance's face swimming above him as Keith realized he couldn't breathe. There was no air, nothing filling his lungs, nothing making it past his closing throat, and Keith panted, "L-lance, can't, can't breathe."
The 19-year-old's chest burned as it struggled to find any type of oxygen and Keith could feel his vision wavering, he could see Lance's panicked face, asking millions of questions Keith couldn't answer. He briefly glanced towards the abandoned cup, the liquid spilling onto the grass and Keith finally understood what was happening. He understood what the unfamiliar taste drowning his mouth was. Strawberries. It was strawberries… he was having an allergic reaction. Something he hadn't had in years.
Lance glanced around, yelling for someone to help as he glanced back down, his hands pressed against Keith's sweaty shoulders as the older boy let out another painful wheeze. The 18-year-old let out a short breath, panic taking over his mind inching towards an attack, painting his face and Lance could feel tears flooding his eyes. He didn't know what to do. Keith couldn't breathe, his lips were turning blue, and Lance didn't know what to do.
He flinched harshly as he felt warm fingers grasping his hand and he looked down to see Keith's pale fingers were clasped tightly around his, painfully so. He yelled again, trying to find the courage to push himself off the ground, trying to find the strength to grab his phone… but he couldn't, he was scared. He had just called Keith an asshole, and now he was going to lose him before he had a chance to apologize, before he had a chance to tell him.
Someone pushed past Lance, and he looked up disoriented to find Pidge falling next to them, ripping her bag open, throwing the contents on the ground harshly as she dug for something. She turned towards Lance, a seriousness masking her face, "Lance! Call 911! He's having an allergic reaction."
Lance glanced back down at Keith, finding his eyes closed and he froze. Nothing was working properly. He couldn't breathe, think, move. Dread coursed through him and tears fell from his eyes as he looked over the older boy's pale face, blue lips, quiet wheezing… This couldn't be happening. I thought we could be friends…
"Lance!" Pidge yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his face before throwing her computer aside, grabbing the EpiPen that had been buried at the bottom of her bag. She ripped the cap off with her teeth, apologizing to Keith slightly before jamming it against his leg and the 19-year-old jumped, sucking in a quick harsh breath.
Lance smiled, wiping the tears off his cheeks, Keith's hand squeezing his slightly before his fingers dropped from his and the older boy fell against the ground once more. He glanced towards Lance, coughing roughly before his body went limp, and silence overtook them once again. Lance glanced towards Pidge, alarm plastered against his face, his hand finding Keith's warm one once more.
"Like I said," Pidge said, glancing towards the crowd beginning to form then back towards Lance, "Call 911."
….
Shiro burst through the red and white hospital doors, Allura a few feet behind him and he turned towards the nurse's station and began rattling off questions. Lance stood slowly, glancing down at Keith's shirt and jacket sitting in the chair next to him, before looking back towards Shiro as the older man made his way over.
A shiver ran down his spine, and the 18-year-old ran a hand through his hair nervously. Keith was going to be fine. As it turns out, Keith always had a reaction to the EpiPen after injected, and even though he could breathe, he still needed to be checked… especially since he hadn't had an allergic reaction since he was 14. Luckily, Pidge had a peanut allergy.
"What happened?" Shiro questioned, and Lance winced slightly as Shiro's voice hit him with a demanding undertone. Lance shrugged his shoulders, looking over towards Hunk and Pidge who stood quickly. Pidge cleared her throat, "He had an allergic reaction. I don't know to what though. There wasn't anything with strawberries in it, right?"
She turned slightly, glancing between Hunk and Lance as Shiro sucked in a slow breath. Hunk thought for a moment, "No. Pidge, the punch was spiked. Strawberry vodka… I remember because I had asked Steven how he made it, but I didn't know Keith had an allergy. I would have told him if I knew."
Lance rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he glanced towards Shiro, who was rubbing his tired face with his right arm. Guilt sat in the 18-year-old's stomach and Lance shuddered, "I-I knew."
Shiro whipped his head towards Lance, a frown forming over his face, "What?"
Lance nodded, looking down at his feet, "I knew. I was going to tell him, but I forgot… We got into this argument, and I told him he needed to loosen up. I forgot to tell him that most of the alcohol was spiked…"
"So, this is your fault then?" Shiro said, taking a slow step towards Lance. The younger boy looked up, taking a tentative step back. He swallowed thickly, "I-I'm sorry, Shiro."
Shiro nodded slowly as Allura grasped his hand, pulling him back gently. He turned towards her, before walking back towards the nurse's station and Lance let out a shaky breath. He felt warm tears threatening to well in his eyes as guilt washed over him in waves of forgotten memories. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving his left hand in his pocket, stealing a quick glance in Hunk and Pidge's direction before grabbing his jacket on the chair next to Keith's. He clenched it tightly in his fist as Jamie crossed his mind, as his parents flashed in front of him, and Shiro's words echoed in his ears, and made his was towards the door. This is your fault then? You're the reason Jamie died, Lance. You fucked this family up beyond repair… maybe you should stop trying, just like the rest of us.
Lance had his hand pressed against the ugly cold table in the hospital cafeteria, his chin resting on it harshly. He shivered, watching as he flipped the orange pill bottle in his hand up then down, listening to the stupid clatter of those ugly tasteless blue capsules. He paused briefly, holding the bottle up to the light, counting the number of pills inside before meshing is against the table once more, letting the medication slam against the white top, then orange bottom. Over. And over. And over.
He swallowed slightly, his eyes darting towards the piece of chocolate cake Hunk had bought him earlier in the night, sitting at the other end of the table, untouched. It looked edible, and Pidge had mentioned it was rather good for hospital food… but the thought of putting something in his stomach, made Lance's skin crawl. This is all your fault, Lance…
The 18-year-old closed his eyes, letting the pill bottle still in his hand as he listened to the quiet chatter from a few nurses several tables over. He was getting bad again… he could always tell; it was a constant reminder. He knew Hunk was worried about him. The older boy had been hovering for several days and despite the concerned gesture, it was pissing Lance off. He wasn't invalid, he was just broken, shattered, damaged, numb… he was numb, and the medication wasn't working like it used to. That happened sometimes, happened every time the feelings and thoughts returned, not that they ever really left… because he was getting worse. The last time he broke, he wound up in the hospital before checking himself into the psych ward. He just couldn't face his parents, see them, see Alexander… he couldn't be their disappointment. Their constant reminder. The reason his family was fucked up. The burden. You survived yourself…
Keith's family wasn't like his. Not even close. Though Lance had to give his family credit, especially his mom, because she tried. Every time Lance came home, every time he talked to her, she tried. And he knew it wasn't easy… it couldn't be. It couldn't be easy to have son like him, it couldn't be easy to look at him and not see Jamie. Because that's how he felt every time he looked in the mirror… all he saw was Jamie. A constant reminder he couldn't get rid of. Forever.
"Please, please, Jamie, please, don't leave me," the 16-year-old cried, pressing his brother against him, his hand running over the gash on his head as blood coated his hands, running down his arms, chest, mixing with the water washing over their feet….
Lance heard the chair across from him slide out slowly, scrapping against the tiled floor before coming to a soft stop, and someone sat down. He took a few quiet breaths, shifting slightly, squeezing his eyes tighter together, hoping the individual would go away. He didn't want to talk to someone right now, couldn't talk to someone right now… that's not what he needed. He needed to forget, to get drunk, to force the sick numbness weighing in his stomach away… he needed to be someone else, because maybe then he would be able to live with himself.
The 18-year-old opened his eyes slowly, squinting slightly against the florescent lights beating against his eyes before his vision readjusted and his eyes landed on Shiro sitting across from him, his arms crossed over his chest lightly. So, it's your fault then? Lance shivered, his eyes glancing back towards his prescription, his long fingers turning the bottle in his hand, the pills clanging against the thin plastic.
"Lance," Shiro started gently, "I wanted to apologize. What I said tonight was uncalled for, and completely wrong. What happened- it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry I said it was. That was unfair of me."
The teenager winced, biting the inside of his cheek as he briefly looked at Shiro before focusing on the orange bottle once more. Shiro had been right. Tonight had been his fault. He was the reason Keith had gotten drunk, the reason he hadn't checked the punch… he had caused this. There wasn't a reason to apologize. Shiro was right.
"I'm under a lot of stress right now, you know? With work, midterms," Shiro ran a hand through his hair, stretching slightly, "And I'm freaking out about proposing next week to Allura. So, what I said tonight, Lance, I was wrong. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
The pill bottle dropped from his fingers and Lance watched it slowly roll across the table, his fingers shaking slightly as he clenched his hand, hoping it wasn't noticeable. He cleared his throat softly, "I told him to loosen up… I called him an asshole."
Shiro laughed quietly, "Honestly, Lance, my brother probably deserved that. He can be kind of uptight sometimes."
"I didn't know, about him- him and Brad," Lance whispered, reaching across the table, picking up the metal fork leaning against the paper plate, meshing the chocolate cake under the hard utensil. He watched the brown icing ooze from the sides of the fork, sticking to the plate in a mushy mixture. Shiro sighed, "It wasn't your fault. Keith's grownup; and whether or not I want to admit it, he doesn't need his older brother as much as he used to… not that he ever needed me much. He's old enough to make his own decisions, Lance."
Lance snorted, setting the fork against the table softly, pressing his head against his hand, his cheek against the cold tabletop. He didn't have it in him to argue, to tell Shiro he had been right. Besides it didn't really matter. He yawned silently, letting his eyes droop slightly, his fingers snake across the table to grab the prescription bottle, grasping onto the familiar shape.
Honestly, Lance wasn't sure why he hadn't left yet. He knew Keith was going to be okay, but maybe he wanted to be sure. Maybe he wanted to talk to him. Maybe he wanted to apologize to him… or maybe it was because Lance wanted to know how much damage he had done. He wanted to know if he had ruined their friendship forever… if Keith's feeling were still there. I'm sorry, Keith… Lance's fingers trailed up Keith's arm slowly as the music around them changed. He moaned softly as Keith's lips parted and the taste of cinnamon filled his mouth, causing Lance's mind to flood with millions of thoughts, of questions, and his breathing to halt momentarily. Sorry for this, Lance. Sorry? Why?
"Did I every tell you about the first time I found out Keith had an allergy to strawberries?"
Lance cracked an eye, groaning inwardly as he forced his head from the table. He pushed his sleeves up before running his hands over his face, wiping away the exhaustion, knowing that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Sleep never came easy, and because of tonight, the 18-year-old doubted it would come at all these next few days. He leaned back, shaking his head slowly as Shiro leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table.
"He was 8," Shiro started, cracking a small smirk, "We were at a fair, and I was in charge of watching him while our parents were volunteering. The only problem was, I was trying to impress this girl, and Keith was being your typical annoying little brother."
He paused briefly, glancing towards Lance to make sure the younger boy was paying attention. The 18-year-old had started turning his prescription bottle over in his hand again, the pills inside clattering against the ends nosily… but, all-in-all, he seemed to be listening. Shiro continued, "I bought him a smoothie hoping it would shut him up and agreed to take him on the Ferris Wheel as long as he didn't bother us. My plan backfired when we reached the top of the ride and Keith threw up on the girl I was trying to talk to… after complaining that his mouth felt funny. I'm sure you can guess the rest… and at the time, it was scary because I wasn't sure what was happening. Now, looking back on it, it was actually kind of funny."
Lance glanced back down at his medication as Shiro let out a small chuckle. The teenager knew what Shiro was trying to do, he just didn't have it in him to laugh along, to fake it. Awkward silence fell between them and Shiro bit his bottom lip, leaning further back in his chair after glancing around the now empty cafeteria. It was a little after 2 in the morning now, and despite the doctors reassuring him that his little brother was going to be fine, Shiro had to wait for him to wake up before Keith could be discharged.
Shiro sighed, running a hand over his face before looking over at Lance. The younger boy looked tired, sad, and… Shiro didn't really want to finish that thought as he leaned forward slowly. Every brotherly fiber in his body was on red alert, and it didn't help that he knew Hunk and Allura were concerned about Lance… that the kid had been off lately, more distant, quieter. It didn't suit him. In fact, silence looked wrong on Lance. He wasn't his talkative, perky, asking a million questions self, and it felt wrong, sick.
Shiro glanced over at the mashed cake next to him, a frown forming on his lips. He exhaled loudly, clearing his throat and looked back towards the younger boy, "They were supposed to retire. This year, actually."
Lance paused. His fingers faulted, and the orange bottle fell against the table awkwardly, rolling back and forth several times before coming a halt. The 18-year-old glanced up slowly, confusion etched across his face as his eyes met Shiro's distant ones. He pushed his jacket sleeves up higher, waiting for Shiro to continue.
"I was on a date. With this guy named Adam, at the time. We had been going steady for about a year, and in a few weeks, he was going to be spending the summer in Germany, so we wanted to celebrate, among other things," Shiro said softly, after a few minutes. He swallowed, "In the middle of the date, Keith had called me, crying, saying he didn't feel well and wanted to go home. Our parents weren't in town, so I had to pick him up."
A shiver ran down Lance's spine as he realized what Shiro was talking about, what night he was referring to. The teenager shivered, his breathing picking up slightly as he looked around the room, looking for someone familiar, someone who could distract him. He didn't want to hear the story again… not now, not tonight. I thought we could be friends.
…My parents were out of town and Shiro was on a date, but I got sick, so I needed someone to pick me up," Keith mumbled. He swallowed gently, feeling Lance's fingers squirm slightly under his, clasping between his own. Keith turned slightly as the younger boy shifted, and Keith flinched as Lance's arm pressed against his…
"He was so sick, Lance," Shiro continued slowly, "And I was only 16, so I was freaking out because I had no idea what to do. I let him sit in the front seat, hoping that would make him feel at least a little better… and it was raining, hard. Ironically, that had been the biggest storm our town had seen in years."
Lance glanced down at the bands on his wrist, running his fingers over the black and red ones slowly, tugging on the purple one. He pulled it back, letting it snap against his wrist painfully as silence hovered over them for several long minutes, and Lance wished Shiro would leave. He wished the story was over. He wished he could leave. He wished…
"The official police report stated that a truck hit us, flipping our car several times, and because we didn't have airbags and it was raining, the impact was worse. The old frame had come apart, pinning Keith to his seat so he couldn't move… I cracked my face open against the steering wheel, my arm shattered beyond repair. And the radiator had busted, leaking fluid everywhere, covering Keith mostly… and this fire started when something exploded next to the engine," Shiro swallowed hard, running a hand over the back of his neck, "I don't really remember much. It's all blurry, and hard to piece together. Even now, I'll be perfectly fine then something someone said or something I'd seen will take me back there, even for a second… I remember him screaming though. Yelling, crying for me. And I remember the smell."
…We were in the car for hours. I-I was in there for hours. Alone… My brother wasn't responding, and I kept blacking out. The EMT's couldn't get through, and there was this fire…
"I remember when I woke up, the first thing I'd asked was if Keith was alright. I hadn't known it had been weeks because to me it felt like hours. And when I saw him, saw the burns and bandages covering him, I cried… I cried, because I felt like I had fucked his life up," Shiro paused again, clearing his throat. Lance glanced up slowly, his eyebrows drawing together as he let the band snap against his skin before pressing his hand against his wrist, feeling his fingers shaking. Why was he shaking? Lance swallowed, "It wasn't your fault, Shiro. You-"
Shiro glanced towards him, "I'm not done."
Lance closed his mouth, taking a slow breath as Shiro's words hit him gently. He felt his breathing quicken slightly as he saw the flash of guilt cross Shiro's face, and Lance suddenly felt sick. He felt wrong, like he shouldn't be here, like he shouldn't be listening to what Shiro was telling him. Lance, honey, you survived-
"Our parents poured everything they had into making sure their kids could live a halfway decent normal life. We moved because they couldn't afford living in the city anymore, they started working two jobs, our mother worked the night shift, so she could take care of us during the day… and they blew through their retirement to get me the best prosthetic Galra technologies made. And, Lance… I hated them, for years, because of that. I hated myself, for years, because I never understood why they would do that."
"I wasn't a great kid, Lance. More so, after. I started drinking, hanging around the wrong crowd when I wasn't hanging around Matt… not that he was a saint either. But, I got in trouble a lot, came home drunk almost every other weekend, and I got a job, two actually, so I skipped several classes weekly. Hell, I almost didn't graduate. I'm not the same person I was, and I wasn't the picture-perfect goody two-shoes everyone thought I was," Shiro paused again, leaning further in, his eyes holding Lance's gaze, "I shut down, emotionally, mentally, almost physically, because I couldn't deal with the fact that I had not only fucked up Keith's life, but my parents as well."
The 18-year-old broke eye contact and glanced down at the scars on his wrist. This is your fault. This is your fault… you're a burden to this family. Honestly, Lance, the wrong brother died. He shivered again, his lip trembling slightly as the words barely made it past his lips, "What happened?"
Shiro sighed, licking his lips briefly, "Honestly? I got arrested."
The teenager glanced up slowly, his eyes drinking in Shiro's features. He seemed tense, his lips forming a thin line, his eyes hesitant as if he didn't really want to be talking with Lance about this. Shiro drummed his fingers on the table for a few minutes before saying, "Matt threw this party to mark the end of Senior year and all that. The thing about Matt's house is that it's four stories, and they have this pool directly below… Long story short, I was drunk, and decided that jumping off the roof was something that I wanted to do. Right as I jumped, the cops showed up. I was arrested, and my mother was forced to pick me up."
Shiro chuckled slightly, "She's only yelled at me twice in my life, and that was one of those times. Maybe it was because I was drunk, maybe it was because she was yelling me, or maybe it was because I couldn't take it anymore, everything I felt, everything killing me inside- I snapped… Lance- I don't think I would be here if I hadn't told her, if I hadn't talked to someone… if I hadn't gotten arrested that night. Because for the longest time, I didn't care if I lived or died… Keith doesn't know that."
Lance gulped loudly, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat as he met Shiro's gaze. His fingers ghosted over the bottle, laying almost forgotten a few inches from him, and Lance cleared his throat softly, "Why- why are you telling me this?"
Whether it was intentional or not, Shiro's eyes darted towards the cuts painted against Lance's tanned skin, causing the younger to bite his bottom lip, pulling his hand back under the table, the green sleeves of his jacket back over his wrists with shaking fingers. He shivered as guilt washed over him and the sick feeling he couldn't place, returned, sitting heavily in his stomach, and the 18-year-old almost gagged. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Lance, honey-
Shiro glanced back up, smiling sadly, "Because I think it's important for you to hear, it's okay. I don't think anyone has ever told you that before… and I think it's important for you to know that, to hear that, because it's what I needed to hear when I was younger. Lance, for years, I kept thinking, if I had made Keith sit in the back, if I had checked the light, if I had gone slower, if I had dropped Adam off first, if I had kept Keith home…. When the truth of the matter is, bad shitty things happen to great people for no reason. There isn't anything you can do to change that… And what happened, tonight and back then, it wasn't your fault. It would never be your fault."
Lance flinched, scooting as far back in his chair as he could as he bit the inside of his cheek, blood drowning his mouth from the force, his eyes moving to the empty table next to them. You don't know that, Shiro. You could never know that… I lied. That's what I do… This is all your fault.
…
…Help me understand, Keith!"
Keith choked slightly, pressing a hand against his eyes, stopping any tears from falling as he cleared his throat softly, pressing his hand back against his knee as he glanced up slowly. He coughed several times, trying his best to choke down the lump trying to form in his throat, trying his best to pretend that everything was okay, that he was okay, and that everything was going to be alright… it had to be alright….
The 17-year-old glanced towards the disregarded bag of peas, biting his lip as he heard his mother sigh loudly, "Keith, honey, we can't help you if you don't let us."
The teenager nodded slowly, glancing down at the dirt caked over his black converse, swallowing thickly. He had to tell them… to say something. It wasn't their fault he was fucked up. It wasn't their fault he had gotten kicked out, and it wasn't their fault he was hurting. He heard his father's chair squeaking slightly as he wheeled himself from around the table, and Keith winced, knowing they were waiting for an answer, were waiting for anything, something-
"I-I'm, I'm gay," He whispered, his voice cracking slightly. Heavy silence fell over them and Keith sniffed loudly, hoping they would say something, anything… wishing they would.
"What?" His father asked softly, and Keith could hear him shifting around, probably trying to get a better look at his son's face. Keith raised his head slowly, nodding, tears falling past his lashes as he looked up, "I'm gay."
His mother's face twisted, anger turning to concern and worry as she came closer, and she kneeled in front of him gently, "Honey, why didn't you tell us?"
His father nodded in agreement, wheeling closer and Keith closed his eyes as his mother pressed her hand against his cheek, thumbing over the ugly purple bruise coating it. There was more… so much more, and yet Keith wasn't sure if he wanted them to know. To know how much it hurt. To know everything, like Shiro. He let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes slowly, letting the tears roll down his face, knowing there was no point in stopping them, "We-we were dating. Brad and I. Then, there was this party…"
Knowledge or death…
When Keith had opened his eyes, he expected to see the shitty dorm walls covered in random papers he had taped to them to remind him that something was due. He had expected to be met with the ugly stain on the ceiling, threatening to force its way through the tiles above at any moment. He had expected to see the old uncomfortable plastic red mattress across the room, an even older Power Rangers blanket from his childhood laying over the bed haphazardly. What he hadn't expected was three thin blue sheets hanging around him as a makeshift wall, a disregarded heart monitor, and Lance McClain.
He groaned loudly, sitting up slowly, bring a hand to his head as his tired mind tried to rake through the night's events to piece together why he was here. He heard Lance shift and looked up to see the younger boy had moved closer, a small smirk resting on his face. The 18-year-old licked his lips, "Hey. You were out for a while. How are you feeling?"
Keith squinted against the lights hanging above them before glancing back towards Lance, "Tired."
Lance nodded slowly, fumbling with the zipper on the bottom of his jacket as the older boy shifted again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, letting his bare feet touch the cold ground. Keith flinched slightly as the bottom of his feet connected with the chilly ceramic, pressing his hand against his aching chest before looking down, confusion filling his face as he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. He looked around slowly as Lance cleared his throat, "They wanted to monitor your breathing. I guess it was easier without the shirt. I think Shiro has it- I'll get him."
Lance stood to leave, stopping when he felt warm fingers grasp his wrist and he turned towards Keith, arching an eyebrow. Keith let his hand fall, tracing over the tense muscles in his neck and left shoulder blade, rubbing slowly as he tried to relieve the stiff feeling. He wasn't sure why he had done that. He just didn't want Lance to leave yet. He wanted to talk to him. To say something… about tonight. Look in the mirror, Lance, because I'm not the one with girlfriend and family issues… I'm not the pathetic puppy in this scenario…
"Lance," Keith started, wincing slightly as he realized his voice was hoarse, "About tonight, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I'm sorry if I did."
Lance opened his mouth to speak, letting out a single syllable, stopping when the older boy put up a hand. The 18-year-old pressed his lips together firmly, his fingers messing with the stupid bands behind his back and he rocked on his feet awkwardly as silence stood heavily between them. He wanted to speak, to let Keith know that tonight wasn't his fault, that he was the asshole here, that he was sorry, to tell him the truth… but he couldn't muster the energy, and Keith wasn't done speaking. Besides, the lecture he was about to get, Lance deserved. This is your fault, Lance… go fuck Brad… the only guy who seems to give a fuck about you. I thought we could be friends, but maybe…
Keith was quiet for a long time, and the younger boy wondered if he was actually going to say something, say anything. The 19-year-old swallowed, looking down at his hands, messing with the dirt under his fingers, "His dad caught us."
Lance raised an eyebrow, sitting in the chair next to him slowly as he waited for Keith to continue. He pulled his sleeves past his fingers, pulling on the loose strands on the bottom of his green jacket as the makeshift room suddenly became quiet, and the younger boy bit his lip.
"Brad's father caught us," Keith whispered, "I know you don't know who that is, but he was the type of man who cared more about image than anything else. And there was this party… I got drunk after Brad dumped me. He was afraid other people would find out that he was dating a guy, among other things, so he ended it. We had been dating for almost a year."
Lance felt his breathing hitch slightly. He hadn't known it had been that long… he figured Keith and Brad had dated for maybe only a few weeks, months, but not a year. Besides, Brad's story had depicted Keith as a jealous kid who couldn't take no for an answer. Keith laughed softly, "I was stupid. I thought that the thing I needed the most was to get wasted, to forget, and one thing led to another. I ended up embarrassing myself in front of everyone, Brad made a speech which led to me being outed, his friends enforced it roughly if you know what I mean, and some asshole was recording."
The younger boy's hand started shaking and he pressed it against his thigh as Keith continued. He swallowed roughly, not daring to look away from Keith, who was still staring at his hands, messing with the dirt between his fingers.
"The next day, Pidge called me and said she had taken down the video. I didn't know what she was talking about… I didn't until I saw it. It was posted on the school website, on the front page. Me, drunkenly trying to save a relationship I should have let go, and Brad, well… Like I said, I was stupid… The day after, I was voted out of the volunteer program, the people I hung out with became distant, and my teachers rallied around the whole 'it'll get better campaign.' After that, I wasn't Keith Kogane, Shiro's little brother, straight-A class president, scholarship kid, the cool guy with the bike… I was Keith Kogane, the gay kid."
The 19-year-old glanced up slowly, meeting Lance's gaze, "The thing is, I wasn't the first gay kid at the Garrison… I mean, Shiro dated guys and everything in high school. But, I was apparently the first gay kid to make a fool of myself, publicly. And I was angry, Lance. I was hurt."
Lance felt a chill run down his spine. When he came out as Bi to Jamie, his brother had been fine with it, happy even, especially since he started dating his brother's best friend. But after Jamie- after he, well, Alexander wasn't as excited to find out Lance's dirty little secret… and Lance hadn't told anyone since then, besides Hunk. He was too scared to.
"The thing is, Lance," Keith continued, shivering slightly as the cold air kicked on from the air vent above, "You're not the first person to tell me that what I did was fucked up. You're not the first, and as long as Brad is around, you won't be the last… you once told me that everyone needs friends after asking me why I didn't have any…. And, Lance, the truth is, people find it hard to be friends with an uptight asshole with anger and trust issues, who outed someone else… on purpose."
"Because," Lance spat roughly, "No one likes to be alone… Trust me."
Lance closed his eyes briefly, letting Keith's words sink in. He hadn't known that was why he didn't have many friends… he had just assumed Keith was hard to get along with or was more choosey in the types of people he wanted to hang out with. But given what Brad had told him, given the way Lance had reacted, then Keith's isolation made sense.
The 18-year-old opened his eyes slowly, watching goosebumps break out over Keith's chest as the older boy shivered again, and Lance swallowed. Keith cleared his throat, "And you know what the most fucked thing is? I don't regret it… I regret the fight, I regret getting kicked out of the Garrison because I never meant to put my parents through that… but I don't regret the pictures. What kind of sick fucked up person does that to another individual, and doesn't regret it?"
Keith pressed his feet harder against the floor, taking a deep breath, wincing slightly as he realized his chest still ached somewhat. It probably would until tomorrow… it always seemed to go that way. He pushed himself off the bed slowly, stretching quietly as he glanced back towards Lance. The younger boy looked like he was going to cry, and Keith stopped himself from reaching out, from reaching towards Lance. He hadn't meant to make him feel bad, hell, he hadn't meant to hurt him. But… he needed Lance to know. He needed Lance to know that he wasn't going to chase after him any longer… that he wasn't going to hurt him anymore.
The 19-year-old ran a hand through his black messy hair, wondering how chaotic it looked. He took a small breath, grimacing at the sweat the met his nostrils and hoped Shiro had either brought his meds, or had planned on walking, because he really wanted to go back to his dorm and take a shower, crawl into bed, and sleep off everything before his 9am exam tomorrow morning. Keith put his hands in his pockets, rubbing his big toe over the ground gently before clearing his throat, "Truth is, Lance, I don't care if you believe me or him, both or neither. I just wanted you to know there are two sides to that story. I'm not innocent, I'm not a victim… but, that doesn't make him any less guilty than me. I just thought that maybe there was one guy at this school I could actually be friends with. I could actually be myself around. For someone to see me, the real me, and not know my deepest darkest secret. But I guess that was selfish. I should have told you, I just wanted to hang onto to the freedom I felt being around you a little bit longer. But that was my mistake… I was wrong. And I'm sorry I hurt you."
Lance met Keith's gaze again, standing shakily as an apology sat on his lips. He hadn't known. He hadn't known the whole truth, and he had caused this. The same stupid nameless feeling returned, and Lance felt weak, he felt broken, guilty, sick. There's something you need to know, Mullet… about me.
"And if it's alright with you, Lance," Keith said softly, looking back down at the floor, "I think- I think we should go back to being friends. And if we can't do that, then maybe we should just avoid each other completely. Because honestly, Lance, I don't think I can handle anything else."
Keith stood there for a minute longer, daring to look at the reaction on Lance's face, resisting the urge to apologize, to grab his hand, to take away the hurt visible on his face. He had been stupid in thinking that he could be friends with someone without them knowing one of the worst things about him. Stupid in thinking he could be himself around someone without having to pretend. Stupid in thinking that Lance McClain had wanted to be anything more than friends. And stupid in thinking that he had a shot with him. He does this thing every year… a pathetic puppy… call it charity work. Peppermints. Lance tasted like peppermints…
Lance swallowed thickly as Keith brushed past him, as the older boy's shoulder collided with his as he left the room. Lance bit his lip harshly, closing his eyes as tears swelled in them, and that sick feeling hit him full force… except this time, Lance understood what it was. Love. It was love. It was the same feeling he had witnessed between Keith and his family, between Shiro and Allura, the same feeling etched into Keith's words as he apologized for something that wasn't his fault. You fucked up big time, Lance. Congratulations, you're officially an asshole… I never meant to hurt you, Keith. I'm sorry. I thought we could be friends, but maybe I can't be… maybe I don't want to be… maybe I want to be more... Fuck.