Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TW: nonconsensual drug use; implied noncon

Chapter one

If Keith had known how this night would end, he would have decided on something else to celebrate his birthday. But alas, Keith did not know beforehand, and so, he let himself get dragged to his friend group’s favorite bar. He could pretend all he wanted, but everyone knew he would agree as soon as Lance pulled out his puppy eyes. Not knowing a reason why not to go, this was the last straw to break Keith’s already weak resolve. He acquiesced.

If only he’d known.

With a wide grin, Lance threaded his and Keith’s fingers, and pulled him ahead to their favorite table, while Keith’s generous older brother, Shiro, volunteered to get the first round. And by volunteered, he means he lost at rock-paper-scissors. Shiro’s best friend, Adam, the kindhearted soul, went with him to help carry the drinks back over.

‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’ Lance asked Evan, Shiro’s long-term boyfriend. The latter was watching Shiro and Adam struggle to catch the bartender’s attention with amusement.

At Lance’s question, Evan diverted his gaze back the group of five sitting in front of him. ‘Oh, yeah, payback for leaving his stinky socks on the bathroom floor.’ The group around the table laughed.

When Shiro and Adam finally managed to snag the drinks and somehow safely got them to the table, the group all toasted to Keith’s birthday before they decided they had been nice enough to the birthday-boy. Keith wouldn’t be able to tell you afterwards who started it, but they had ended up telling embarrassing stories about Keith. Even though he was being roasted left and right, Keith still looked around the table at his friends, and smiled.

Pidge and Hunk were, at some point, animatedly acting out the story they were telling, causing Allura to spit her drink all over Lance. In retaliation, he grabbed Allura in a headlock to mess up her perfect hair, even though it somehow ended up looking good on her. Which was totally unfair. To avoid the hassle, Keith leaned away from the pair, accidentally bumping into Evan, who set a steadying hand on his shoulder. When Keith looked over his shoulder to apologize, he locked eyes with Shiro first, who was watching with a frown. Hurriedly, Keith moved away and apologized, trying not to watch Shiro and Evan exchanging looks, raising eyebrows, and rolling their eyes. When Lance raised his arm, Keith quickly dove underneath to settle into Lance’s side. Lance tightened his hold on Keith’s shoulders and smiled at him, before going back to his conversation with Allura, Pidge and Hunk about the hangover brunch they would have the next morning, as usual. Though it made Keith relax a bit, he couldn’t help but feel guilty as he saw the distance between Evan and Shiro.

Things had been a bit frosty between those two lately, and unfortunately, Keith was the reason why. Apparently, Shiro thought Evan had been looking at Keith “weirdly”, as Shiro had put it. No matter what Evan did to reassure Shiro he didn’t have to be jealous, for some reason, Shiro couldn’t help but think Evan had been making flirty eyes at Keith.

What’s worse was that Shiro even confronted Keith about it.

So yeah, things were a bit differently between the three lately. Honestly, Keith tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Anyway, He thought, cuddling closer into Lance’s side, I already have an amazing boyfriend.

As the night went on, and the drinks kept coming, Keith was relieved to see both Shiro and Evan relax a bit around each other. Enough so that, when the group decided to go to the dancefloor, the two walked over hand in hand. With a happy sigh, Keith draped his arms over Lance’s shoulder, letting Lance guide them into a gentle rhythm. He smiled fondly at his boyfriend, who looked so excited about finally getting Keith to dance with him it was truly endearing. It was a well known fact that Keith did not dance, but the drinks that made Keith lightheaded were enough to lower his inhibitions. Besides, seeing how happy it made Lance, Keith regretted not doing it a lot sooner. With Lance’s hands on his hips, leading them to fall in a sway he usually would have only allowed in the bedroom if at all, Keith let himself drown in the adoration in his boyfriend’s eyes.

All in all, it was shaping up to become Keith’s best birthday so far. Here, in Lance’s arms, surrounded by his friends, Keith had never felt happier.

Too bad it wouldn’t last.

Allura was just trying to guide Pidge into a twirl, with Hunk and Adam demonstrating off to the side, when Keith caught the commotion on the edge of their little bubble. He looked over just in time to see Shiro and Evan talking, with angry expressions, before Evan stormed off.

Oh, they were fighting again.

Shiro looked over at the group, locking eyes with Keith before quickly looking down and stalking over to their table.

Oh, they were fighting about Keith again.

Helplessly, Keith looked back at his friends. Adam, angel that he is, rushed past them to comfort Shiro, shooting Keith a reassuring smile. Lance squeezed Keith’s hands. The others just looked confused.

‘I’m just gonna…’ Keith murmured, pointing to the bathrooms. Lance called after him, but let him go nonetheless. After the happy, light feeling, this guilty heaviness weighed him down even more. Splashing some water in his face, Keith was starting to wish he’d just stayed home. Maybe, if he hadn’t come out with them, Evan and Shiro wouldn’t be fighting right now.

When he came back out, he realized the spot on the dancefloor they had been occupying before was now empty. Looking around, he saw almost everyone with Shiro at their table, but he didn’t particularly want to join them right now. He wasn’t sure he was welcome anyway, judging by Shiro’s face hidden in his hands, and Adam rubbing his back. Moving further, however, found Evan and Lance closest by – they were at the bar, Evan just emptying his glass before setting it down moodily. Lance looked sympathetic, but also uncomfortable. When he saw Keith was back, he immediately grabbed his hand and dragged him back over to Evan with him.

Keith wished he’d gone to their table instead. This could not be better. Nervously, he looked back to Shiro, but he had his back turned.

‘Shiro broke up with him.’ Lance murmured in his ear, making Keith look back at them in shock.

‘What?’ Keith moved closer to Evan, sitting down next to him gently. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Not your fault.’ Evan said, shooting him a watery smile. They both knew it wasn’t completely true. Keith looked at Lance helplessly, but he shrugged his shoulders. Even though it was true that Keith had never done anything to warrant Shiro being jealous over them, especially since Keith and Lance had started dating, Keith couldn’t help but feel responsible anyway. He should have done more to ease Shiro’s mind.

Don’t kid yourself, a bitter part of Keith thought, if the lovesick behavior over Lance wasn’t enough to convince Shiro, nothing would be.

‘What are you drinking?’ Keith looked at Evan with wide eyes. He couldn’t mean…

‘Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to drink together after what happened?’ Keith shot back, uneasily looking between Lance and Evan. He didn’t want to cause even more problems.

‘Please, if this is the last time I’m gonna hang with you guys, at least indulge me once.’ Evan asked, so softly Keith and Lance almost couldn’t hear him. The two looked at each other, defeated. Even though Evan and Shiro had been dating for five years and Evan was almost as much family as Shiro was, Lance and Keith also knew that this friend group was Shiro’s, and not Evan’s.

Lance nodded, and leaned in to whisper, ‘He’s right. I’ll be with the others.’ He gave Keith a quick peck, followed by an encouraging smile before walking across the room to join the others. Keith looked back at Evan, considering, before sighing. He was still uncomfortable, not wanting to make Shiro angry at him, but honestly, what would one drink with Evan hurt? Shiro wasn’t the only one hurting right now, and Evan was right: this could very well be the last time they saw each other, and Evan had been part of the family for five years.

Realizing Keith was staying, Evan gave him a grateful smile and took his wallet out of his pocket. When the bartender went up to them, Evan didn’t ask Keith for what he wanted, but just ordered two more of whatever he’d been drinking before. Keith didn’t hear what it was over the music, but knowing Evan, it would be something strong. Evan paid for both, catching one from almost toppling over, before sliding it over to Keith. When Evan uncovered the drink beneath his hand, Keith was immediately hit with the smell of it.

Yup, whatever it is, it’s strong.

Keith, still a bit whoozy from all the drinks before, decided that it may as well be his last then. End the night with a bang. The two of them sipped their drinks in silence. When Keith looked back over at their table again, he realized it was really strong, if it was making his head swing this much. Everything was hazy and cottony, and he was feeling like all of the drinks were hitting at once.

He smacked his lips, turning back to Evan. ‘I don’t really like this one,’ He muttered, tilting his glass back up, only to realize he’d already finished all of it.

Evan was watching him with furrowed brows. ‘Why not?’ Keith set down his glass, oops, a bit too hard, grabbing the counter as he swayed so far he almost fell off the barstool. Evan jumped up to catch him. ‘You okay?’

‘Too bitter,’ Keith answered, gripping the bar and the stool because, even this clouded over, he still knew he shouldn’t grip onto Evan. ‘Had too much, I think.’

When Keith stumbled, Evan wound his arms around his waist. ‘Wow, buddy, should I get you home?’

‘Hey, is he okay?’ Both Keith and Evan looked at the bartender, who was watching them warily. His eyes went from Evan’s arm around his waist to Keith’s hooded eyes. ‘Can I call anyone for you?’

‘Thank you for your concern,’ Evan smiled, ‘I’ll just get him home.’

The bartender kept looking at Keith. ‘Sir?’

Keith leaned into Evan. ‘’s fine, ‘s my brothers boyfrnd.’ Evan’s arm tightened around his waist. Something about that felt wrong. What was he forgetting? ‘Where’s Lance?’ He asked Evan, who had thanked the bartender before guiding him to the exit.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll text them that you weren’t feeling well and I’m getting you home.’

‘Was s’pposed to stay with Lance.’ Keith slurred, even though his eyes were already sliding closed. He guessed Evan couldn’t hear him over the music, because he found himself outside, trying to settle his stomach as Evan frantically tried to catch a taxi’s attention.

The next time Keith opened his eyes, he was in the backseat of a car, leaning against Evan’s side. Evan was carding his fingers through Keith’s hair, murmuring ‘You’re safe, it’s okay’, over and over.

‘Wh’s Lance?’ Keith whispered, but his eyes closed against the flashing lights outside, and he was under before hearing the answer.

Later, Keith was vaguely aware of a hand groping in his back pocket, before he heard his apartment door opening. Ah, I’m home. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw that it was indeed his own bed that Evan was dragging him towards. Gently, Evan lowered Keith onto his bed, taking off his shoes before getting his legs on the bed as well. Keith was ready to let himself sink back into the darkness, now that Evan had done his part and could go home as well, but Evan came back up, and started taking off Keith’s shirt.

Keith made a confused noise. ‘It’s okay,’ Evan whispered, struggling with the piece of clothing, since Keith wasn’t exactly cooperating. ‘You’re safe.’ But when his hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans after finishing with the shirt, Keith could feel that feeling of something’s wrong creeping back up. He tried to protest, but all that came out was a whine. Evan smiled down at him, shushing him. ‘I know, so uncomfortable. I’ll help you.’ His fingers, far too steady for what he had seemed to have drunk, hooked underneath his boxers for a second, before correcting themselves and pulling down Keith’s pants. A nasty tingle went down Keith’s spine at the touch, and his brain fought against the fog, trying to clear itself. He tried shaking his head, but his head was spinning too much. When he tried to lift his hands to push Evan’s hands away, he found he couldn’t move them. His stomach dropped. He blinked hard to try and clear his view, but immediately wished he hadn’t.

Evan was staring at him, smiling.

His shirt was on the floor, and his hands were on his own zipper.

Another distressed whine left Keith’s throat, but that was all he could do.

Don’tdon’tdon’tdon’tdon’t.

Evan crawled over Keith, who was fighting to stay awake, to move, to speak. But he couldn’t. Evan dragged his lips over Keith’s bare chest, to his cheek. Keith’s skin crawled.

Nonononononono.

‘You’re safe,’ Evan whispered again, his hand sliding from Keith’s chest to hip. His fingers reached underneath Keith’s waistband. ‘I’ll take care of you.’

Keith passed out.

Chapter Text

TW: noncon; nonconsensual drug use; implication & short mention of blood; thoughts of dying; violence; panic attack

Chapter two

As soon as Keith came to again, he wished he hadn’t. He still had his eyes closed, but he could feel a burn in his backside and an ache in his hips that made his eyes water and his throat close up.

A groan could be heard from above him, and Keith realized it wasn’t emotion blocking his throat. There was something in there. Something moving. Slowly, he realized a couple things.

1. Shiro had broken up with Evan;
   2. Evan had taken Keith’s wasted ass home;
   3. Keith wishes Lance were here;
   4. Keith was on his back, on his bed, with his head hanging off the side and his brother’s ex-boyfriend’s dick down his throat.

Without his permission, a distressed whine escaped Keith. This only made Evan groan and speed up. Using all the strength Keith had gathered, which wasn’t much, Keith tried to push Evan away, but he doubted it was making a difference. His muscles weren’t working the way they should.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ Evan said, breathlessly. Keith released a relieved sigh when Evan pulled out, but wanted to take it back when Evan only walked around the bed to pull at Keith’s ankles and drape him across the bed properly, before climbing between Keith’s legs again.

‘No,’ Keith muttered, lifting his hands to try to push Evan away. ‘Stop.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Evan pinned his wrists above his head, ‘you were being so good to me.’ He lowered his hips back to Keith’s.

Keith let out a sob. ‘Don’t.’ He tried to close his legs, but Evan easily pushed them apart again. ‘Where’s Lance?’ He looked around wildly, somewhere remembering that he and Lance were supposed to go home together. He winced when Evan pushed into him, focusing back on what was happening. That did not feel right. Something was wrong. Spit was not enough lubrication to make the slide that easy, and that stinging sensation was not supposed to be that intense.

Thiscan’tbehappeningthiscan’tbehappeningthiscan’tbehappening.

‘Evan, stop!’ Keith tried, panic finally managing to clear the fog in his head a little. ‘Please, I don’t want this, stop.’ He looked down at where they were connected, but quickly threw his head back. There was red. On his thighs, there was a mess of not just white, but red.

It suddenly all made sense. It hurt this much because Evan had barely stretched him – if at all – and something had torn. And that was what made the slide easier as well, together with –

He started sobbing. His brother’s ex had been using him, and would continue to do so for who knows how long. What if he would never let him go? He was bleeding and his heart was racing and he was pretty sure both alcohol and drugs had been mixed and what if that combination wasn’t good for him, what if he died like this?

Oh god I’m going to die.

I’m going to die and I’ll never see Lance again.

Evan tsked, pushing in further. ‘You were so good to me before.’ He leaned over Keith, licking a stripe up his ear as Keith shook his head, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. ‘You’re safe, Keith, it’s okay.’

‘Nonononono,’ Wriggling his arms, he tried to get out. ‘I want Lance, please stop, it hurts.’

‘Fuck, it’s already wearing out?’ I don’t wanna unpack that, ‘I’ve only gotten in two rounds.’ Definitely don’t wanna unpack that.

‘I don’t want this,’ Keith tried again, but a hurt sound was punched out of him when Evan roughly shoved the rest of himself inside. Fuck, that hurt. ‘Hurts,’

Thisisn’trealthisisn’trealthisisn’trealthisisn’treal.

‘Just shut up,’ Evan snapped, his hips immediately picking up a rhythm. Keith whined again, starting to babble. He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but it was some mix of “it hurts”, “stop”, and “I want Lance”.

‘Well I want you to shut up!’ Evan yelled, before letting go of Keith’s wrists to slap him in the face. Keith yelped, his body freezing, his tears halting, his entire being filling with shock that Evan would do something like that, before his body sprang into action of its own accord. Instincts to survive, the thought of I’ll die if I don’t get away, pushed his tired body into action. Adrenaline fueled his movements as Keith shoved at Evan, causing the latter to fall off the bed. Keith rolled the other way, falling off as well. He scrambled, trying to get to the door through the waves of pain, but wasn’t fast enough. A kick to the ribs and what he was sure was a crack later, and Keith was laying on the ground, curled up and wheezing, with Evan looming over him with a stormy expression. Evan grabbed Keith by his hair and threw him back on the bed, Keith wincing at the pain in his side and lower back as he was jostled. When Evan went to join him again, Keith threw out his leg to kick him, but with his head still not completely right, it was all too easy for Evan to catch his foot, spinning it too far in retaliation. Keith cried out, the tears springing back to his eyes.

Stopstopstopstopstopstopstop.

‘Now stay still.’ Evan growled, shoving Keith’s legs apart again to get in between. Keith still resisted, even though something about his right foot now felt wrong. Not broken-wrong, but still not okay. Kicking would probably hurt him more than Evan. Even so, Keith used his other leg and hands to try and get Evan away, who only growled in annoyance. ‘I usually like your fire, but right now it’s really annoying.’  A fist connected with the same cheek that had been slapped before, momentarily making Keith’s head spin. Through the haze of grief and panic, though, the pain didn’t quite settle yet, and so, Keith resumed his struggling, though it became more of a blinded flailing. When Evan’s fingers curled around Keith’s neck, the latter really started to panic. Keith scratched at Evan’s wrists, even bucking his hips to try and get Evan off, but Evan’s eyes twinkled and his grip only became tighter.

‘Stop,’ Keith choked out.

‘You’re so pretty like this,’ Evan muttered back, starting to hump Keith again as Keith struggled to catch his breath. Keith blinked hard, trying to stay awake even though he could feel himself slip away. As soon as Keith finally relaxed, but right before he passed out, Evan released him and used his free hands to guide himself back inside Keith, grabbing Keith’s hips hard enough to bruise. Keith wheezed, his head too light and his vision still too black. He whined against the burn, trying to block out why he was feeling that burn.

Thiscan’tbehappeningthisisn’trealstop.

The ceiling was swimming before Keith’s eyes. He could feel himself get dragged up and down the mattress. Something was pulling at his hips. Something trickled down his cheek. Something was making hurt little sounds. Someone was begging.

How could he do this? Why was he doing this?

When Keith blinked open his eyes again, he realized time had passed and he couldn’t remember what happened. He couldn’t move his right arm. When he followed his arm up, he saw there was a belt wrapped around his wrist, strapping it to his bedpost.

A sob left him. He looked back frantically, seeing Evan still moving over him.

‘Nonononono,’

I want Lance.

‘It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re so good. Making me feel so good.’

I don’t want this.

‘Please, stop,’

I don’t want to be here.

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Afterwards, Keith wouldn’t be able to tell anyone exactly what happened after. He remembered that eventually, Evan wasn’t on him anymore. He remembered being forced to drink something which gave him the same bitter aftertaste as the drink Evan had bought him at the bar. He remembered feeling himself lose control of his body once again. He remembered coming to, only to find himself face down, his hips being held up by Evan. He remembered how pathetic he felt, listening to the sobs being punched out of him when he was taken again, on his knees this time. He remembered wishing, over and over again, that he had just stayed home with Lance that evening.

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The next time he woke up, it took a while for Keith to actually come back to himself. It took even longer for Keith to realize that, while his arm was still bound to the bedpost and he was still face down, he wasn’t being touched. He looked up to find Evan asleep next to him. Keith’s stomach rolled. He was wide awake now.

He tugged on his wrist, wincing at the shock of pain that raced down his arm and at how raw his skin felt. His thumb hurt too, and when he looked at it, he almost threw up again. Yeah, he had somehow dislocated it, he was pretty sure.

He looked at Evan warily, before dragging himself up to his knees. Another jolt shot up his spine from his hips.  The tears returned to his eyes, though not from pain this time. He fumbled with the belt, finally getting it off. He didn’t take the time to rub at his chafed wrist, but leapt off the bed. His ankle, ribs and lower back all protested, almost bringing Keith down to his knees in pain. Somehow, he managed to stumble on, teeth gritted, trying not to think about how he felt something trickling down his thigh and quickly getting on some underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt.

He had to get out.

When he looked back at Evan to check he was still out cold, he saw his phone and keys on the nightstand. He hurried to grab them, accidentally also touching Evan’s phone. It lit up to reveal a recording.

An ongoing recording.

It was hours long.

When checking the current time, and how long the recording had been going, Keith could only guess what it was on. Sick to his stomach, Keith grabbed that phone as well, shoving his own and his keys in the pocket of his sweatpants before booking it out of the apartment as fast as he could with his messed up ankle and heavy limp. He was careful with the front door, looking back at his bed anxiously, but Evan didn’t move. He hobbled down the hallway to the elevators and made his way outside, all the while stopping the audio recording and saving it. Two parts of him were warring inside of him. One that yelled delete it, no one can know, and the other whispering about evidence and revenge.

The cold autumn air made Keith gasp as it stung on his face. His bare toes curled.

Can’tstopcan’tstopcan’tstopcan’tstop.

He had to get away.

Evan was still in his apartment, so that wasn’t safe. You’re safe, making me feel so good. Where would he go? Stay still. Shaking his head, Keith clutched at his tender ribs, even though it aggravated his thumb, his mind still racing even though his body started carrying him somewhere. So pretty like this.

NostopIdon’twantthisstopthiscan’tbehappeningstop.

Somewhere, Keith knew he had started hyperventilating. Knew it wasn’t safe – you’re safe, making me feel so good – to walk in the cold, alone, early in the morning. Knew he needed help.

Knew he had to get away.

‘Hey, you okay?’

Keith startled, stopping dead in his tracks as he shrunk into himself. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see a tall man looking at him worriedly. Don’t trust him, Evan also looked concerned before he –

Keith shook his head. When he looked back up, he noticed the man was looking around, his eyes alert, before they softened and settled back on Keith. The man, who couldn’t be much older than Keith himself, was wearing a police uniform. Confused, Keith focused on the building behind the man, realizing he was at the police station.

‘Do you want to come inside?’ The man continued, softer, gentler, as he carefully moved closer. Keith stared at him, a glare settling on his features. His arms wrapped tighter around himself, but he gasped at the pain this brought. Jolting, he stumbled. The police officer moved to catch him, but Keith threw himself away automatically, landing himself on the floor. His body screamed its dissent, but Keith didn’t feel it through the haze of panic.

He raised his arms above his head, pleading ‘Don’ttouchmepleasedon’tIdon’twantthis’, fully expecting the police officer to touch him anyway.

But he didn’t. The police officer crouched down in front of him. ‘It’s okay, you’re safe.’ He tried, but this only made Keith burst into tears, trying to scoot away from the man, but crying even harder at the pain this brought him.

The man looked even more worried now. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Keith was still trying to stop hyperventilating, and the police officer honestly looked like he would start too. ‘You’re at the police station. It’s October. I’m not touching you. It’s five in the morning.’ He then repeated the phrase, over and over, until Keith slowly but surely started to calm down. The two sat in silence for a while, until Keith’s teeth started chattering.

‘Can I help you up?’ The officer asked. Keith looked at him skeptically. ‘I can help you inside, get you a blanket, some tea, a muffin maybe?’

The officer kept smiling, not at all deterred by Keith’s frown. Finally, the shivering made Keith’s body hurt too much, and he relented. He nodded. The man beamed. Slowly, he reached out to Keith, making sure he could see exactly what he was doing, and could pull back any time he wanted. Slowly but surely, Keith was helped up, and into the police station.

Chapter Text

TW: descriptions of injuries; implied non-con; mention of blood; victim blaming

Chapter three

Two pairs of thick, black socks covered Keith’s feet. Keith could still feel the embarrassment from when his thumb hurt too much for him to get the socks on himself and the police officer, Ryan, had had to do it for him. It worsened when tears sprung into his eyes when his ankle was aggravated. Ryan hadn’t said anything about it, only offered Keith a sweatshirt he was pretty sure was also Ryan’s.

Keith couldn’t stop apologizing. Ryan kept insisting there was nothing for Keith to be sorry about, but that only made Keith feel worse.

When Keith blinked and realized he was in a hospital, he realized the drugs must’ve not worn off yet. And even though his memories were hazy, he was sure that Evan had drugged him. Otherwise he could’ve fought harder. Otherwise, he might have been able to get himself out of there. He wished he hadn’t accepted that last drink.

Ryan guided him into the halls, telling him his friend was working and would help him. Keith was too dazed to respond. Since the adrenaline had worn off, Keith only felt empty, and like he could use a really long nap.

Dr. Rizavi was way too loud in comparison. ‘Kinkade!’ She yelled from across the hall. Keith hunched in on himself. ‘What are you doing with Keith Kogane?’ As soon as she was closer, Keith felt like running away. Her eyes were way too calculating, too sharp. Why did she have to recognize him? ‘Stardom get him into trouble?’ So Keith was an actor, known for playing the bad boy type. That didn’t mean he was actually like that.

Keith glared at her.

‘Nadia,’ Ryan grumbled, pinching his nose. ‘I need your help. Can you please just help him?’

When Nadia reached out to grab him, Keith ducked away from her, almost falling over when the sharp movement made the room spin.

‘What happened?’ Nadia hissed, looking around them and ushering them into her office. The lights there weren’t as bright as they were in the hallway, which was really great for Keith. It didn’t do anything for his headache, but, you know, baby steps. After what happened in the hall, Nadia left it to Ryan to guide Keith in and up onto the chair with the wrinkly paper. He looked apologetic when Keith winced. ‘Is he on drugs?’ Nadia demanded, hands on her hips. Keith didn’t know how she was a doctor and didn’t get fired yet with that attitude. Not that he was one to judge.

‘Not by fucking choice, alright?’ Keith bit back.

That shut her up. Keith couldn’t even feel smug about it. Nadia looked at Ryan in alarm.

He sighed. ‘He hasn’t told me much, but by his behavior and… condition, I’m guessing he got roofied. Can you find out what it was?’

Softer, Nadia turned back to Keith, who adamantly avoided eye contact. She could guess where he got the bruise on his face from, and she hadn’t even seen the rest. First off, she took care of Keith’s thumb. Scans indicated that the bones weren’t broken, and with Nadia setting it right, Keith was told he just needed to wear a splint for the four to six weeks it would take to heal. When the doctor asked how long it had been dislocated, Keith was silent for a while, before admitting he didn’t know. Nadia looked confused.

‘I wasn’t… conscious, when it happened.’ Keith finally admitted. Nadia turned away for a second, looking at the ceiling and blinking hard and fast. When she explained that she wouldn’t know the lasting effects it would have, since it was dislocated for too long but it was uncertain for how long, Keith only swallowed and nodded. After that was taken care of and with Keith’s consent, she took blood samples to test for remains of the drug, and also had Keith collect a urine sample. Before he went into the enclosed bathroom, though, Keith hesitated. He hadn’t told them about… the traces left down there. He’d been ignoring the feeling of it dripping out, but now…

‘Uhm…’ Both Nadia and Ryan turned to look at him. Keith’s cheeks burned. ‘Do you… have something I can clean myself up with?’ He asked, kind of wanting the ground to swallow him hole.

‘We’ll have Nadia look at your wounds after, is that alright?’ Ryan answered, completely misunderstanding.

Nadia though, she had frozen, suspecting. ‘Clean up?’ She asked, because of course she did.

Keith glared at the ground harder. ‘Uhm… The uh… His… ’ He swallowed hard. He couldn’t say it. They were really making him say it. ‘I didn’t have the… time to get his… to get it out. I want it out. Uhm, down uh, down there.’ By then, his knees were wobbling.

Nadia stayed glued to her chair. Her eyes darkened.

The rest of the visit went in a blur. Keith didn’t remember cleaning himself out, but did remember Nadia asking if there was blood. He nodded, looking down again. With a shaky voice, she asked if there was anything else. Keith scoffed, but there was no humor.

His ankle, as he had already suspected, was twisted but not broken. His ribs were bruised pretty badly, but also not broken. That one did come as a surprise. Keith had been so sure he’d heard a snap, but Dr. Rizavi was very thorough in her investigation. Honestly, the discoloration of his side probably just made it look a lot worse. His wrist was a bit chafed, but fine otherwise. Hesitantly, Dr. Rizavi asked about Keith’s hoarse voice. He scowled, and lowered the neck of the sweater he was wearing, revealing the dark circle of bruises around his neck. He didn’t say anything about the… other activity his throat had been subjected to. At this point, Ryan, who had mostly stayed off to the side, looked ready to cry.

Keith guessed he hadn’t been an officer for long.

All of Keith’s injuries, except the one to his backside, were photographed. The entire visit and its pictures were documented for evidence.

Finally, Keith and Ryan were back in Ryan’s car.

‘Where can I drop you off?’ Ryan asked, pulling out of the parking space.

Keith froze. He hadn’t thought about that. ‘I can’t go back.’ He choked out. ‘He must’ve left by now but he was there when I left this morning but even if he isn’t there, I can’t be there.’ Softer, he continued: ‘Please don’t make me go back there.’

Ryan’s jaw tightened. Keith hunched over again, afraid he’d overstayed his welcome. Instead, Ryan turned back in the direction of the station. ‘We’ll have a charger at the station. You can charge your phone and maybe call someone to pick you up? Would that be okay?’

Call someone. Keith had refused to think of his friends. His phone was dead so not like he’d had a chance to call them anyway, but now…

What would Lance and Shiro think of him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Keith’s phone powered back up, it wouldn’t stop vibrating. There were so many notifications. He kept getting notifications of getting mentioned on twitter, which he guessed he would check out later. What caught his attention though, were the text messages.

They made his blood run cold.

HUNK
I was willing to hear you out, but bailing on brunch and hiding instead? Not cool man

PIDGE
You fucking jerk, guess the roles you get are closer to home than we thought. If I ever see you again, I will kill you

SHIRO
You’re dead to me

ALLURA
I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, but this is really not okay. I hope he was worth it.

Keith read over them frantically, confusion growing. What…? All the while, the twitter notifications kept coming in. Now that he looked at them, they were all the same.

Calling him a whore or a slut, ranting at him for cheating on Lance.

Cheating on Lance?

Keith froze when he found the next train of posts.

@EvanH posted:

We look so good together, you really made my night better @KKogane, and you look pretty when you sleep ;)

Attached, were photo’s. One that was clearly Evan between Keith’s legs, hooked over Evan’s waist. But they couldn’t see that Keith was not excited. Couldn’t see that Evan must’ve been holding Keith’s leg like that. Couldn’t see Keith was either unconscious, or too drugged to notice. Another was of Keith on his knees, Evan clearly inside of him. Keith’s backside and back were clearly visible, as was his mop of dark hair, but not the bruises on his side or neck or face. Not his hand bound to the bed. Not that he was unconscious. The last was of a seemingly sleeping Keith, though his bruised cheek wasn’t visible, and once again, neither were his bound hand or bruised neck, or the fact that he wasn’t sleeping he was unconscious.

The phone clattered to the floor. Ryan, who had been sitting nearby, jumped. When he saw Keith was crying – again, what the fuck? – he rushed over. When he picked up the phone to see what had upset Keith, his entire expression darkened.

‘Fuck,’ Keith muttered, then, when he kicked a chair in frustration and ended up hurting his already hurt ankle even more, yelled the same profanity again, but louder. The sobs grew.

‘It’s not your fault.’ Ryan tried to reassure him. Instead, Keith only saw Evan, back on that bar stool. Saying the exact same thing.

Keith dropped his head into his hands, pretending he didn’t see Ryan opening his arms for him. ‘Then why do I keep being punished anyway?’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan deserved an award for best-person. Honestly, even Keith, in his empty, exhausted shell could still acknowledge this.

After securing the pictures and the account they were posted by as more evidence and providing Keith with tea he only used to warm his hands, Ryan offered to talk to a friend of his, who had a spare room.

‘I’ll just have to call him and discuss some stuff, set things up, then you can stay with that friend of mine. We used to be roommates, but he has a room free now. He lives two towns over though.’

Keith didn’t respond, just stared at the ground. His friends hated him. Lance must hate him as well. The whole world hated him. Home wasn’t safe anymore – you’re safe, making me feel so good – yet he had to go back. Inside the pocket of his sweatpants, he gripped the keys to his apartment. And squeezed. Maybe if I break it, I won’t have to go back. He was causing so much trouble for Ryan as well.

Why was he even still here?

Maybe he should just get out of here.

‘Keith?’ Upon hearing his name, he startled. Ryan had kneeled in front of him, still keeping enough distance for Keith to get away if he wanted. His concerned eyes were settled on the fist inside the pocket of Keith’s sweatpants. ‘Could you empty your pockets please?’

Digging into his sweatpants’ pockets, Keith came up with his keys and his phone. But that wasn’t his phone.

Wait, two phones?

Keith stared. And realized. He thrust Evan’s phone out to Ryan first. ‘This is his.’ While the police officer was distracted, Keith hid the hand with the deep crinkles, feeling lucky the skin wasn’t broken.

‘His?’ Ryan asked, brows furrowed.

‘My brother’s ex-boyfriend.’ Upon the blank look, Keith pointed to his bruised cheek and emphasized ‘His.’

Ryan first went to pull on gloves. ‘We’ll get fingerprints, prove it’s him.’

Not what he’d meant, but alright. Keith hesitated. ‘There’s… actually, I brought it because… uhm… he kind of… recorded… it? Everything?’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah.’

Silence. A beat. ‘More proof, that’s good. Do you know the passcode?’

Keith tried Shiro’s birthday, but it was wrong. Evan’s own birthday was also wrong. With trepidation, Keith entered his own, and immediately felt dumb and self-centered. Still, he was relieved when that, too, was wrong.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Ryan said softly. ‘I know a girl. She’ll get it.’ Eventually, Ryan stood up and lead Keith over to one of his coworkers. ‘This is Rolo. While I have the phone analyzed, he’ll drop you off at your apartment. If there’s ever a time you need me, you can call the station and ask for me.’

Not wanting to grate Ryan’s nerves even further, he didn’t object to being in a confined space with a stranger or having to return to the apartment. Keith merely nodded, thanked the police officer again, and followed this new guy to his car.

Though Rolo kept looking over at his passenger, he didn’t say anything, for which Keith was eternally grateful. He was being brought home, but Keith really didn’t think he could stand to be there. He didn’t want it.

But it seemed like it didn’t really matter what Keith wanted.

He unlocked his phone.

TO: LANCE
I didn’t want to, I swear, please believe me

MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND
THIS PERSON HAS BLOCKED YOU

TO: SHIRO
I really need you. Please

MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND
THIS PERSON HAS BLOCKED YOU

Any other messages he might have wanted to send, any other platforms he wanted to try, they didn’t fare any better.

Chapter Text

TW: Memories/thoughts of non-con; breaking in; verbal harassment/threats

Chapter four

Rolo had come up to the apartment with Keith, to make sure Shiro’s ex wasn’t there anymore. As soon as Keith had opened the door, Rolo took over, looking through every room, every possible place the jerk could’ve hid. But he was gone.

‘Is there anything that’s his, or he used?’ Rolo asked as he joined Keith back in the sitting area. While he really did not want to think about that, Keith got up anyway and looked around. The belt was still at the headboard, so he pointed to that. The sheets were still ruffled, as if Shiro’s ex had frustratedly bunched them up.

Or as if someone had been struggling on them.

Keith shook his head, before going over to the pillow the jerk had used. That was supposed to be Lance’s side. ‘I’m not sure if they’re his, but there’s some hair on the pillow he used.’ Rolo nodded and carefully deposited them in a tiny little bag.

When the police officer had left, Keith stood and stared at the spacious studio he’d considered home. All it was now, was a place that reminded him of one of the worst nights of his life. He didn’t want to ever get close to that bed again, so he went to the wall farthest from the damned piece of furniture, and slid down it. His entire body screamed in protest, but did protests ever really matter anyway? Wrapping his arms around his knees, he wished he’d opened a window. It smelt like sex and blood and suffering.

Closing his eyes, Keith tried to get out of this place. He imagined a time where the apartment was filled with the smell of slightly burned cookies, because he and Lance had gotten too distracted (read: they were too busy making out) and completely forgot they were in the oven.

‘Is something burning?’ Keith had asked, his mind still scrambled from having Lance kiss the living daylights out of him.

Lance relieved himself of the duty he’d given to himself, namely, covering every inch of Keith’s neck in kisses, and pushed himself up from where he’d been lying on top of the dark-haired boy, his signature cocky grin softened severely by the adoring sheen in his eyes. ‘It’s me. I’m smoking.’

Keith laughed, swatting the tan boy’s shoulder, but halted. Was that- He turned his head in the direction of the kitchen, in perfect view of his spot on the couch. ‘Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the oven?’

Following his line of sight, Lance froze. He looked back at the boy beneath him, his eyes wide, before vaulting himself towards the developing catastrophe with an exclamation of “The cookies!”. Not able to hold in his laughter, Keith, still sprawled across the couch, let his amusement overflow from his lips, before he figured he should probably help out his distraught boyfriend. Heaving himself up, he padded over to Lance, who was holding the tray of darkened cookies with the biggest pout known to man.

‘I was too hot.’ He whispered dejectedly when Keith wrapped his arms around him from behind.

Keith hummed, leaning in close to Lance’s ear before whispering: ‘Hot damn.’

‘Keith!’ No one had ever sounded as betrayed as Lance did right there, and that just made Keith laugh even harder. Lance, despite not able to turn around due to the grip on his waist and not able to put down the tray anywhere, still swatted Keith’s arms in indignation, squawking about how unjust the world was, and how dare Keith support the universe in its cruel and unjust punishment?

Planting a soft kiss on the spot where Lance’s neck meets his shoulder, Keith finally got his dramatic boyfriend to settle down long enough to get his attention. ‘It’s alright,’ Despite his stoic masks, even Keith could hear the fondness in his tone. Could feel it written all over his face. ‘I like it crunchy.’

‘Do you now?’ Slowly, Lance finally managed to turn in Keith’s arms, the hot tray with cookies awkwardly shifted around to avoid burns. Keith only hummed in return, admiring the beautiful boy looking down at him. He never knew someone’s eyes could be this blue; he kept getting amazed by them again and again. Even now, hooded as they’d become, as they stared Keith down with their depts of coyness, Keith let himself get lost in the thrill of their seducing depths. Didn’t even resist, or made Lance give chase in any way. Keith merely smiled as he felt a warm breath fanning over his anticipating lips. He wasn’t even sure he was still breathing, he could only focus on where Lance kept getting closer, hovering so close the merest of grazes set Keith’s body aflame.

Lance was teasing him. Grinning as he dragged his lips slowly, carefully, so tantalizingly close to his, but not giving him the pressure he wanted – craved even.

Until finally-

‘THE COOKIES!’

-Lance let the tray tilt.

Even now, Keith could hear his own past-self laughing. It rang through the apartment as Keith sat there, hunched against the wall, his body shaking with the ghost of the past. And he tried to focus on that past, because despite the ache it brought, it distracted him of the other ache, the one that begged to remind him of the other past, a more recent one. It was screaming at him to go back, and Keith was nothing if not an overachiever, and so he did go back. He went back to baking cookies with Lance, riding his motorcycle with Shiro, cryptidhunting with Pidge, snuggling in blankets with Hunk, running lines with Allura, pretending to know anything about philosophy with Adam. Getting drinks with-

No. Not that. Not him.

Listening to Lance strum the guitar, to Shiro talking about the stars, Pidge about her research or latest hack, Hunk about a new recipe, Allura about her uncle’s shop, Adam about his hopeless crush on Shiro. Rants with-

No. Not that. Not him.

Lazy mornings, laying between Lance’s legs. Pretending to be able to read when Lance was trying his damn hardest to distract him, nibbling his ear, breathing past the spot on his shoulder he’d just laid his claim on and making a ring of bruises, a necklace of mottled purple and hands tightening and his face shoved into the mattress and a bruising grip on his hips and an ache so deep Keith will never be able to dig it out of himself and he wants it out, wants all of it out wants it to stop. He’s asking him to stop, he’s begging but no one’s listening and it hurts and-

No. Not that. Anything but that. Anything but stopIdon’twantthisthiscan’tbehappeningithurts.

Gasping for air, Keith stared at the bed. The bed he was both in front of, watching from afar with distant resentment; and on top of, uncomfortably close and pressed up right against it, with a dazed desperation.

And he sat and watched, and let the world crash around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day, Keith spent in a daze. Most of it, he stayed exactly where he was, dozing off into a restless sleep until he startled awake. Every time, he’d grab his phone, ready to contact Lance, before seeing the last texts he’d tried to send, or more replies to the pictures Shiro’s ex posted. Sometimes, he’d think it hadn’t happened at all, but a painful trip to the bathroom was enough of a harsh reminder. The killer headache and nausea didn’t really help much either, but Keith figured that that just went with everything hurting. If he just turned down the lights and lay low for a while, he’d be fine though. It was all fine. The comments he received on Twitter were annoying, sure, but that would blow over. The letters with slurs and insults getting shoved underneath his door could just be ignored, so, yeah.

The implications of that last thought didn’t register until it was too late.

Honestly, it probably would’ve been better if Keith had stayed at the hospital, like Nadia had insisted, but Keith was already tired and overwhelmed and he didn’t want people buzzing around him and feeling entitled to come into his room to check up on him and touch him and ask questions. All he wanted was to go home. He didn’t want to stay there, because being there meant he had a reason to be in a facility that meant something had happened and that meant he had to think about what happened and explain and-

No. He was better off in his apartment.

He couldn’t even receive medication for the pain or something, considering it might mess with whatever Shiro’s ex had made him take, so why would he have stayed? So yes, he figured he’d be just fine on his own. Even so, he accepted the card of a therapist that Nadia had recommended, if only to settle her mind a bit. Keith didn’t know why he’d need that though. He got out. He was sa- alright now.

When night came, Keith settled back into his spot against the wall, laying down to ease the strain in his lower back, although he couldn’t find a position that didn’t bother his ribs. Even though the smallest sound made him hyper-vigilant, Keith tried his best to just let himself rest. He felt tired enough to sleep for an entire month – and honestly, what would be so bad about that? – so why wouldn’t it work?

He must have dozed off eventually, for the next second, he got woken up rudely by fists banging on his front door. Immediately, he was at high alert, his heart racing a mile a minute, as he frantically looked around. He was still in the apartment, still curled up against the wall.

‘We know you’re in there, you piece of shit!’ A feminine voice shrieked.

‘Open the door so we can give you a piece of our mind!’ A second voice added. We? Our?

Had they come here to hurt him? Force him into things again?

Another thud on the door. ‘You coward, we’ll show you for hurting Lance!’ Hurting Lance? Who were these people? How many were there?

The first thought that rose up was that he could take them himself, but with his entire body feeling weak and pulsing flares of, at the very least, discomfort? If he couldn’t take Shiro’s ex without injuries, how was he supposed to take however many people when he was like this?

The banging increased, now sounding as if someone was throwing themselves against the door. The insults and threats kept going on, intertwining with the creaking of the door. Frozen, if took a while for Keith’s brain to catch up and remember what he could do. With shaking hands, Keith dialed the number of the police station. Instead of reciprocating the greeting from the other side of the line, he asked to speak to Officer Ryan Kinkade.

‘Who is this?’

‘It’s Keith-‘ He shouldn’t mention his last name, just to be sure. ‘Please hurry, it’s an emergency.’ He could hear the secretary start mumbling about how he should’ve contacted the emergency line then, before he got reconnected.

‘Ryan Kinkade speaking.’

‘It’s Keith, there’s people at my apartment, trying to get in and they’re yelling and really angry. I think they’re about to break through the door?’

Immediately, Ryan’s voice changed. ‘I’m on my way. Get in a room you can lock and hide.’ The background noises were changing, confirming to Keith that Ryan really was on his way. Keith scrambled off of the floor, wincing at the tremors running through his body.

‘We can hear you! We know you’re in there, you disgusting piece of shit!’ Someone yelled. Keith flung himself into the bathroom, locking the door before climbing into the bath. Honestly, being in the bath wouldn’t add anything, but it was farthest away from the door. So yeah.

So Keith once again curled up, ignoring the jabs to his side, and waited, his hands curled over his ears to drown out the banging, which was in perfect sync with the pounding in his head. Though he’d never been good at waiting, and really, it was more that he couldn’t do anything else.

Patience yields focus.

As if he wasn’t hurting enough already.

The front door gave way; the boy in the tub flinched; the yelling increased. Sirens were close by, from what Keith could hear through the garbled rage and panic that was separated from him by only a flimsy door he and Lance had recently painted. He wondered if their anger would make it chip. He wondered if these people would get splinters. He wondered why that thought satisfied a tiny bit of grief inside.

As the wailing of the sirens continued to the rhythm of an angry mob, Keith’s hold on his ears tightened. If this was all a bad dream, he was ready for it to end. Ready to wake up next to Lance and feel protected in his embrace, no matter how much the thought simultaneously made him queasy. He wanted their easy mornings back. Their effortless ease-

Or well, it hadn’t been exactly been effortless, getting to where they were, but they had done it, and they were continuing to do so. No. They had been continuing to do so.

It’s all messed up now, isn’t it?

‘-eith?’

Something was touching him.

Keith vaulted himself away from whoever it was, not registering that the touch was slow and gentle, not demanding and not you’resafemakingmefeelsogood.

‘Keith? It’s alright, it’s Ryan Kinkade. I’m here. I won’t hurt you.’

Looking up, Keith was met with kind, hazel eyes. ‘Ryan?’ Yikes, his voice was still hoarse. Disuse probably didn’t really help.

‘It’s alright. We’ve arrested the people who came here, you won’t have to see them, alright? Let’s get you out of here.’

Tired. He was so, so tired. ‘I’m not a child,’ He grumbled, wiping his hair behind his ear. He fixed his bangs so they were back in place. Even though he stumbled, he didn’t take the arm the police officer had offered. Coming out (heh) of the bathroom, Keith took in the damage. The front door was a bit splintered, but honestly, it could have been worse. His mirror was shattered, and some of his chairs were knocked over, but that was it.

Honestly, he’d probably made a bit of a bigger deal out of it, considering the way it looked now.

So why was he still shaking?

‘If you pack some clothes and other necessities, I’ll drive you over to my friend’s.’ The officer’s voice sounded steelier than it had before. Startled, the smaller boy looked over, relieved to find that steel was not directed at him. Darting around the other officer present, who was taking pictures of the damage, Keith quickly threw some things in his sports bag.

‘Where did he live again?’ Keith asked, even though his mind wasn’t exactly ready to process the answer he’d get.

‘Just a few towns over.’ Ryan shot a calculating look at the other officer, who didn’t seem like she was interested in anything but the shutter of her camera anyway, before smiling gently at the packing boy. ‘Honestly, that might be better for you in any case. It might not be safe-‘ you’re safe making me feel so good ‘-to go outside there either, but at least it’s something.’

Breathe, Kogane. You’re fine. Getting up, Keith quickly gathered stuff from his bathroom, carelessly adding them to his backpack with his laptop, before trying to sling both bags over a shoulder without alerting Ryan of his pathetic wincing.

He failed, obviously.

‘So,’ Ryan was way too cheerful for this situation. But he was a sweetheart, so Keith would forgive him. ‘Ready to meet my former roommate?’

To be completely honest, Keith didn’t think he was ready for any kind of moving right now – moving his body, moving house, moving on. All of it hurt. He was still reeling, but pushed that feeling as far down as he could get it – which wasn’t really all that far – and put on his mask. He forced his voice not to tremble, locked his muscles to keep them from trembling, and lowered his head so no one could see his eyes. His skin was tingling, chafing everywhere his clothes were touching him, and he felt like one wrong move might make his desperation flow from his eyes.

But now was not the time for that. So he stood still, and remained quiet, and didn’t object.

Reluctantly allowing Ryan to take the sports bag from him – honestly, this guy was big and buff, so what choice did he really have? – Keith nodded. ‘You’re making it sound like I need to mentally prepare. Who is this guy anyway?’

Already ahead of him, Ryan turned his head to grin at the other boy. ‘Well, you’ll either love him or hate him. There’s no in between, so…’

Chapter Text

TW: vomit; victim blaming; mention/implication of non-con

Chapter 5

‘So, don’t be a dick, and if I catch you having sold out where he lives now, I will arrest you.’

‘What for?’ Ryan’s friend, Keith’s new roommate, is indignant.

‘I’m your best friend,’ Ryan put his hand on Keith’s roommate’s shoulder. ‘I’ll find something.’ The roommate, James, Keith remembered, let out a squawk. Ryan smirked, and turned to Keith. His face softened. ‘Alright. I need to get back to the station. Don’t worry too much about James, he’s… alright. Eventually.’ That elicited a small smile from Keith, and just that apparently is enough to make Ryan light up. ‘I’ll update you on our progress, if you want?’

For a second, Keith couldn’t remember what he meant by “progress”. It clicked, and his smile sagged. ‘Yeah. Look, I really appreciate all you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’

James was watching the two of them curiously. He knew something happened that would require Ryan, a police officer, to step in. He knew Keith’s an actor who needed a new place to stay because his address got leaked. He knew someone else was involved, based on the injuries. But apparently he hadn’t been online yet, and therefor didn’t know what kind of drama Keith was involved in.

He’ll find out soon enough.

Ryan reached out to shake Keith’s hand, but Keith had already taken his two bags in hand. Smoothly, the officer transitioned it to a two-fingered salute and left.

As soon as Ryan left, James and Keith stared at each other for a while. Then, James sighed, and offered to take Keith’s bag. ‘I’ll give you the tour.’

The Tour™ was not very impressive. James had a nice apartment, but it’s not as if it would take hours to go through it. The living room, they’d already explored. The attached kitchen was nice, Keith guessed. Hunk would’ve been satisfied. There’s a hallway that leads to James’s room, a bathroom the two boys would share, and at the end, Keith’s new room. Somewhere, Keith was relieved his room is at the end of the hall. Somehow, it feels… secure, as if it’s protected by multiple layers. What’s even better, is what Keith finds when his fingers trace over the doorknob. There’s a lock.

After dropping off Keith’s bag, James hesitated. ‘So… Ryan mentioned that going outside is still a bit risky for you, even here, so I can do groceries for the both of us in one go. I always keep a list on the fridge, so if there’s anything you want, just write it down and I’ll get it for you.’

Keith, still tracing the handle, nods. ‘Thank you.’

A beat. Then, ‘I was actually gonna go to the store right now, so I’ll go do that, and you can get settled?’ James suggested, looking a bit uncomfortable. Keith could understand; he, too, would want to get out.

So he nodded, again.

‘Alright,’ James went out of the room. ‘See you later.’

A few seconds later, Keith could hear the front door close. Keith carefully lowered himself onto the bed – his bed – and figured now was the time for him to call his manager, Kolivan. If he hadn’t also blocked him.

‘Keith?’

Keith startled at his name, realizing he’d already dialed his manager’s number. ‘Yeah, I’m here.’

‘Good, I actually meant to call you about something anyway. But first, what did you want to say?’

‘I can’t do the movie.’ Keith rushed out in one go. He had recently got cast to play in a new movie, once again meant to play a tough, leather-clad guy who was bad news for the protagonist, but who she couldn’t help falling for anyway. The problem was, first of all, that Nadia had told him he couldn’t do much with his injuries, and had to let them heal first. Second of all, the movie contained a sex-scene.

The thought of it made Keith sick to his stomach.

A sigh from the other side of the line brought Keith back. ‘That’s actually a relief.’ Upon Keith’s questioning noise, Kolivan hesitated, before continuing. ‘I got a call this morning that due to… your recent scandal, they wouldn’t want to be affiliated with your name anymore. I’ll call them back, and try to get a settlement.’

They know.

‘At first I protested, of course, we have a contract after all, so they’ll probably be happy that we’re offering them an out. I’m sure I can get you a good deal, since they insisted they did not want to “seem supportive of a cheater” so I’m sure they’ll take any offer we give them.’

“Cheater”. They know, but they don’t know.

Keith launched himself from his bed, reaching the toilet just in time before the meager contents of his stomach spilled out. From the floor where he dropped it, his phone still emitted the distant voice of Kolivan. He sounded worried.

‘Keith? Are you there?’

Breathing heavily, Keith waited for a bit, his eyes closed, before getting up, flushing the toilet, and rinsing his mouth. Only then did he pick up the phone again. ‘’m here.’ His voice was already scratchy, but especially now.

‘Are you okay?’  It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re so good, making me feel so good. Keith really hated the whimper that left his throat, but words weren’t working right now. He slid down the wall until he was seated, the phone still clutched tightly in his hand. ‘What people are saying happened… There’s more to it, isn’t there?’ Kolivan’s voice had quieted.

Keith nodded, even though he knew Kolivan wouldn’t be able to see. Finally, he choked out a “yeah”. Kolivan cursed. Taking a deep breath in, Keith tried to change the subject before Kolivan would try to make him say what did happen. ‘Well, I couldn’t do the movie anyway, so, yeah. And I’m not allowed to do anything else for at least a month, probably more. Doctor’s orders.’ Ah, shit. Said too much.

‘Doctor’s orders?’ Kolivan questioned, as predicted. ‘Keith, are you safe? Where are you?’

You’re safe, making me feel so good.

Swallowing another sob, Keith forced himself to hold back. Just for a little longer. ‘I can’t say. The police figured it was better if no one knew where I moved to, considering a lot of people are… mad at me. Right now.’

‘The police?! Christ, Keith, what happened?’

Choosing to answer in regards of his living situation, and not the general story, Keith explained how his address got leaked and people had swarmed the place.

‘Where you are, now, it’s secure?’

Who knows? ‘Yeah.’

‘Wait, if the police is involved, does that mean… you’re pressing charges?’

Keith hesitated. ‘I… maybe.’ He couldn’t let Ryan’s trouble go to waste, but on the other hand, if he did, he’d have to talk about it and others would know and he’d have to see him again and- Could he really do that?

‘That must be a very difficult decision. Whatever you decide to do, I’m proud of you.’

‘You believe me?’ It slipped out before Keith could swallow the words back down. He curses himself.

Kolivan, for his part, sounds offended. ‘Of course I believe you. You’ll have me by your side throughout this all, for as much as you want. Have you thought about maybe speaking out about this?’

‘Speaking out? Kolivan, no. I’m not… wait, do you think I should?’

‘It might… be something you’ll have to do. Right now, a lot of people are running around with this wrong information and tarnishing your name. Not that that’s a priority. What’s the priority though, is you. If you want to, and can, I would advise you to speak up. However, it must not be detrimental to your health. Take your time. I will clear your schedule. You were in need of a break anyway.’

He wasn’t sure he could do this. ‘Thank you.’ Keith said, anyway. His head was reeling. Again. It was too much. Luckily, Kolivan seemed to understand, and he quietly said his goodbyes after reassuring Keith could always contact him, for anything. For that, he was grateful, but he didn’t know if he would end up taking his manager up on that offer.

On the other hand, who else did he have?

Stumbling back towards his new room, Keith opened twitter again. Might as well assess the damage now that he was already feeling miserable, instead of making himself miserable all over again later. Pack all of it in one big misery-fest instead of having it distributed over the day. The first thing he did, was checking his friends’ accounts, but he found out he was blocked. By every single one of them.

Nice to know where their loyalties lie, Keith thought bitterly, then reprimanded himself for thinking like that about his friends.

So he did the only logical thing. He made a fake account, a red kitten as his profile picture, and hid between the nosy and sympathetic fans to scope out what was being said about him.

Lance had deleted all of the posts Keith had been in, either pictures or texts that had mentioned him. His newest post said that he was taking a break from social media, and was answered by thousands of well-wishes. Deeper in the comment section, someone commented that they expected a really good album to come out of this. It made Keith angry, so he was happy to see that Lance’s fans were quick to defend Lance.

Hunk did tweet, but nothing concerning the scandal. Well, the cookies he tweeted a picture of were probably comfort food for Lance. Keith wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not. Pidge had tweeted a lot, as they had been live-tweeting during the night out. It went from telling funny stories about what was happening between the more and more drunk friend group, to being worried when they couldn’t find Keith, to enraged when the pictures had apparently appeared. Afterwards, there were some passive aggressive tweets, but mostly tweets about stating they were going to be supporting Lance. Allura had only tweeted once, saying she had been asked about the scandal a lot, but she wouldn’t speak of “such low and cowardly actions”, insisting she would not share anything. Thanks, Llura.

Shiro and Adam had both remained quiet, even though Shiro’s twitter was flooded by people offering their support, and enragement on Shiro’s part.

Keith didn’t dare look at Evan’s account.

Now that he had an account that hadn’t been blocked, though, maybe… maybe he could contact Lance or Shiro. Explain what happened.

Keith’s thoughts short-circuited at even the slightest hints of that idea. Still, with shaking hands, he figured he owed it to them to explain that he hadn’t betrayed their trust. If it had been up to him, it wouldn’t have happened.

It shouldn’t have happened.

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking hands, Keith sent a private message to Lance.

TO: LanceyLance
Lance, it’s Keith. I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I say I didn’t want it

Keith had started typing out “I was…” then removed it. “He…” And removed it. Finally, he hoped Lance would understand what he was trying to convey. He knew it wasn’t enough, wouldn’t ever be enough, but his hands were shaking so badly just typing that short sentence had taken forever (and a lot of autocorrect).

So he waited.

And stared intently at the screen.

Finally, he saw his message was being read. He didn’t get a reply back, but instead, a few minutes later, a notification popped up. He was mentioned in a tweet.

@TheGremlin
So disgusted by some people. TAKE A HINT, Lance doesn’t want to fucking talk to you or hear your excuses. @KKogane or @RedLion or whatever other account you have created, stop messaging

@TheGremlin
Also, if you “didn’t want it” then you should’ve just kept your dick in your pants, or his dick out of your ass. It’s not that difficult. It’s called loyalty, you should try it.

Keith couldn’t stop staring at his screen, even as the reactions started popping up. Most people responded with a “roasted”, or some other form of the same sentiment. Others went off at Keith, berating him for harassing Lance. Saying he should leave Lance alone, or that he was disgusting, or pathetic, and that is was his own fault. Saying he should’ve thought of Lance before cheating.

His vision was getting more and more blurry, yet he couldn’t look away.

One comment was different from the rest.

@klancealltheway responded to @TheGremlin
What if by saying he didn’t want it, he meant he was[…]

Keith threw his phone away before reading the end of the sentence. So much for reaching out.

Chapter Text

CW: swearing

Chapter 6

‘Could you get him another drink?’

Lance raised his eyebrows at Allura’s question. Leaning in close, so the possible recipient of the may-happen-may-not-happen-drink wouldn’t hear, he whispered: ‘Don’t you think he’s had enough?’

‘He just broke up with his boyfriend!’ Allura whispered back furiously, still rubbing Shiro’s back. Not that he noticed. For the first time in the years Lance had known Shiro, the latter was not his usual composed-self. ‘Don’t you think he deserves it?’

Chewing his lip, Lance did think the guy could use it. I mean, breaking up with your boyfriend of five years because he seemed to have the hots for your brother? Big yikes. So, being the awesome, supporting friend he was, Lance pushed himself up (with a big sigh, because who was he without his theatrics?) and exclaimed a fake-exasperated “fine!’. Pidge and Hunk shot him unimpressed glances, but Lance just winked at them and turned to the bar. It would be the perfect time to check up on Keith and Evan while he was at it. Who knows, he may just have to save his socially-inept boyfriend from the long social interaction. How long had they been talking anyway? Lance had expected them back already, or well, he’d expected Keith back already. He didn’t think Evan would return to their friend group that night.

Or ever.

Lance rolled his eyes at himself. Quit whining, this is probably their last hoorah before Keith never sees Evan again. Let them have their fun! So what if he’d expected to spend the night dancing with Keith before taking him home, laying him out carefully (and oh so beautifully) and dancing with him horizontally (if you know what I mean). Shiro needed their support right now, he’d make it up to Keith later. After all, he hadn’t given the birthday boy his present yet, and what a great present it was.

Smirking to himself, Lance stepped up to the bar, before looking around and furrowing his eyebrows. Speaking of the birthday boy – though, judging by the time, he should soon stop calling him that – where was he? Letting his eyes wander, Lance looked out for a sign of that mullet he lov-hated. Evan was no where to be found either. Maybe he went home, and Keith had gone to the bathroom before he would head back to the table?

Making his way over to the bathroom, Lance checked his phone, just in case, but there were no messages from his boyfriend. After waiting around for a just-a-tad-creepy amount of time, Lance had seen everyone who had been in the bathroom leave. Which meant Keith was not in there. So he must have overlooked him somewhere in the bar, maybe they just missed each other and he was already back with the others? Checking his phone again, along with examining everyone in the bar repeatedly, Lance made his way back to the others.

‘What took you so long, and why are you not carrying drinks?’ Pidge snarked, looking up from where they’d been typing on their phone.

Distracted, Lance glanced around again. ‘Have any of you seen Kei-ow!’ Looking down, he glared at Allura, who’d swiftly nudged his stomach. She gave him a pointed look, and then at Shiro. ‘So what, I can’t mention Keith at all? It’s not like the guy did anything wrong.’ Allura sighed, dropping her head in her hands.

‘Yeah, no, he’s kinda right,’ Hunk cut in. Bless Hunk. ‘I’d also like to know?’ He turned his attention to Lance. ‘Where was he last?’

‘At the bar with-’ Yikes. ‘At the bar?’

But Shiro’s head had already snapped up, his eyes blazing, yet weirdly steely at the same time? Lance wondered how he could do that, look heated and still give him the chills. Probably just one of Shiro’s many talents.

‘Keith was at the bar with Evan?’ He said, lowly, yet Lance could still hear it as if it had been said right in his ear.

‘A-anyway!’ Lance flailed, ‘I can’t find him anymore, and I already checked the bathroom and he hasn’t texted me and I’m getting kind of worried?’

‘Maybe he went outside?’ Adam suggested.

‘I’ll check!’ Lance immediately volunteered, and Hunk and Pidge immediately got out of the booth to join him, Pidge muttering something about getting away from the volcano. Lance took out his phone again, still not seeing any notifications from Keith, but he did notice he was getting tagged a lot on Twitter. Maybe someone had found Keith wandering outside, and this was another one of those “come get yo mans” kind of situations?

Opening the app that was begging for his attention, Lance halted in his steps. His heart was speeding up. Was that…?

But he was tagged and everything?

His eyes went over the tweet again and again, reading the words, looking at the pictures. He was way too familiar with the legs, the waist and back, the mop of dark hair, spilling over the contrasting sheets. Those sheets. That person. He was too familiar with all of it. The position from which these pictures were taken, even. He knew exactly who that person in the pictures was, and what he was doing.

‘-oing on? What’d you find?’ Lance zoned back into the here and now by Hunk’s wavering voice. He and Pidge peeked over the lanky boy’s shoulder, and their breaths faltered.

‘Don’t let Shiro look at his phone.’ Lance grit out, but when he looked up and turned around, Pidge, who had already turned because apparently they could move at the speed of light, pointed at the man in question, mournfully.

‘I think he already has.’

Shiro sat there, staring at the phone gripped tightly in his hand. Any tighter, and Lance feared the screen would crack. As if he could feel the eyes on him, Shiro looked up and met the Cuban boy’s gaze. At once, Lance knew that there was no doubt that Shiro had seen.

His gaze mirrored Lance’s exactly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting around the table, the group remained quiet for a while. Until it was Pidge who broke it in the eloquent way of theirs.

‘What the fuck?’

Lance was still shaking. Shiro was still seething. ‘I knew it.’ The latter grit out, now that the sound-ban was lifted. ‘I knew there was something there.’

‘I can’t believe it.’ Lance whispered, his head still in his hands. ‘He wouldn’t.’

‘Well, apparently he fucking did!’ Pidge had slammed their hands on the table, their hazel eyes glinting maniacally. ‘The no-good bastard, how dare he?’

‘Maybe,’ Hunk offered gently, ‘this is all a misunderstanding?’

Both Shiro and Pidge turned their angrily glinting eyes at him. ‘And how the fuck are we misunderstanding this?’ Pidge ground out. ‘He fucking slept with his brother’s ex – our best friend’s ex– while dating our other best friend. What part of that do I not understand?’

Hunk held out his hands, placatingly. ‘I’m just saying, maybe there’s more to this. We should hear him out when he comes to Hangover-Brunch tomorrow.’

‘If he comes to Hangover-Brunch, you mean.’ Shiro leaned back in his seat, his bulging arms crossing over each other. ‘I know Keith. He messed up, and he’s not gonna want to show his face.’

‘I know him, too, and he wouldn’t do something like this.’ He wouldn’t, he loves me.

‘Well apparently none of us really knew him!’ Pidge exploded. ‘If apparently he’s capable of doing this and give every one of us and all we’ve been through a giant middle finger. If he’s willing to sacrifice our friendship for what – a good screw?’

Adam looked appalled. ‘Pidge!’

‘Let’s just listen to him tomorrow, alright?’ Hunk’s shoulders were hunched, as if even he wasn’t so sure anymore.

‘He did look comfortable in those roles he played…’ Allura trailed off, but that made something sit wrong with Lance. He wasn’t; he told me he wasn’t.

‘That’s right!’ Exclaimed Pidge. ‘He always plays the same kind of role, guess now we know why.’

He wasn’t, because he didn’t agree with his character’s actions. He would never do something like that.

‘I should have known,’ Shiro moaned, ‘I did know.’

Would he?

‘You couldn’t have known he would do this,’ Allura started rubbing Shiro’s back again. ‘We all thought he was better than that.’

‘He is, though,’ Lance whispered, still staring at the table. ‘He is.’

The table’s occupants turned to him, but they all remained silent. Finally, Allura looked between the others before gently leaning closer. ‘I think you might be in denial, Lance.’

At that, Lance finally looked up, his eyes a stormy dark sea, furious and ready to sink any ships who dare try to cross him. ‘I’m not in denial. He wouldn’t do this.’ His voice wavered; the waves crashed. His face crumpled. ‘He wouldn’t do that to me.’ Just as quickly as it came on, the raging sea ebbed, and flowed right down his cheeks. ‘He can’t do this to me.’

They all stared, their gazes a mix of emotions, but none one he wanted to see.

Allura leaned over the table to put her hand on Lance’s. ‘I’m sorry.’

Once again, they lapsed into a hush. Lance didn’t really care, now that the storm inside had passed, all he felt was a bottomless abyss, and no surface he could break through. He stared, and ignored the dizziness in his head, or the ache in his chest, or the clench of his fists.

Once again, it was Pidge who broke the silence. ‘I hope he does show up tomorrow.’ For such a tiny Gremlin, they sure were filled with large amounts of anger. Maybe because it has a higher concentration, given it’s in such a small container. ‘I won’t forgive him either way,’  but at least I get to kill him if he does show up.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Shiro and Lance had drowned themselves in sorrows and alcohol, the group had split. Adam and Allura had volunteered to carry – or drag, the man was massive – Shiro home, while Pidge and Hunk concerned themselves with their blue boy. Even though Lance still held on to the tiniest sliver of hope – that last bit that hoped Keith would come with a good explanation the next day – he sniffled the entire way home. He clutched Hunk’s arm to his chest like a lifeline.

Pidge’s anger only flared higher, but they tried to contain themselves for Lance’s sake. Still, their tiny body practically vibrated with the instinct to inflict at least twice the amount of pain to the person who hurt her best friend.

Hunk’s resolve kept crumbling. He wanted to believe in a more positive option, an alternative that would fix whatever was happening, but he was also a man of science. Add the wrong part to a machine, and it wouldn’t work; too much flour, and the cookie would crumble. He wanted to continue to see the good in people, but how could he while his best friend was falling apart?

While Pidge gathered Lance’s softest, most comfy sleepwear, Hunk brushed Lance’s teeth and did his evening skincare routine for him. He wondered if it even worked, or if there would be a trail on both sides where the products would be washed away. It didn’t help that the lanky boy was just… sitting. Quietly. Blankly. Empty. Just… let everything happen.

Pidge took the couch, not wanting to leave Lance alone that night. Hunk, with a similar mindset, didn’t protest when Lance didn’t let go of his arm. Guess they were sharing the bed again, the way they used to when they would talk all throughout the night, sharing insecurities or memories.

They lay, side by side, and looked at the ceiling. Hunk doubted he would sleep tonight, and he doubted that the boy next to him would even try. So they lay, and waited as the minutes crept by.

‘I was going to ask him to move in with me.’

Hunk twisted to face Lance, but his gaze wasn’t met. ‘What?’

‘Tonight. He was supposed to come home with me, and I was going to give him a key and ask him to move in.’

‘Oh.’

A chuckle left Lance’s lips, but it sounded nothing like the boisterous laugh Hunk was used to. ‘Yeah. Oh. He was supposed to be here, and say yes, and we were gonna start a new chapter in our lives together, even though that sounds cliché as fuck.’

Hunk halted for a second. What could you even say to something like that? Lance didn’t deserve this – no one did. So he dragged his friend into his arm, ignoring the growing wet patches on his shirt, and whispered: ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know, big guy.’ Lance muttered, his shoulders shaking. ‘Me too.’

Hunk really hoped Keith would show up, and explain himself, and just this once, not run away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t show up.

Everyone had gathered at the table, Hunk’s cooking going untouched as they all watched the clock ticking. When Keith hadn’t shown up an hour after the agreed brunch-time, Shiro snapped, and he stormed out. Adam was quick to follow after him, worry evident on his face.

Lance watched them go, and stayed in his seat.

Allura was next. She got up so softly that the others hadn’t heard it. After sharing a mournful look with Lance, Allura shook her head, and left as well.

Frozen, Lance followed her retreating back from his place at the table.

Pidge raged as they went out the door next, expletives following them for as long as the remaining two could hear their tiny footsteps.

Still, Lance stayed.

Hunk sat next to him, staring at him. His shoulders had sagged hours ago. He’d been hopeful, but that hope had been drained from him as he watched the time tick past.

It was Keith who took that from him.

‘He’s not coming.’ Lance accepted, still staring at the door.

‘I’m sorry buddy.’

The calm emptiness that had filled him up till that point was starting to crumble. A wet heat built behind his blue eyes, his shattered heart crawling up his throat.

‘He’s not coming.’ He repeated, his voice starting to wobble. Hunk crossed over to reach him, taking him in his arms. But these were not the arms he wanted. ‘Why would he do that?’

Burying his face in the dark curls of Lance’s hair, Hunk whispered: ‘I don’t know. I’m so sorry.’

As soon as the first tears started rolling, the shards lodged inside tore and pulled, until Lance couldn’t help but open his mouth. And sob. Hunk held him through it all, murmuring soft apologies in his hair and rubbing his back.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Lance hiccupped, clutching to Hunk’s arm for all that he was worth. Which, apparently, isn’t a whole lot. ‘What’s so wrong with me that he couldn’t even tell me he didn’t want me anymore?’ He was shaking apart, only held together by his best friend’s arms, tight around him. But he feared even Hunk wouldn’t be enough to make him last. ‘I gave him everything I had,’ The tears just kept coming. For all Lance’s love of water, waterworks had never been part of that.

‘Why wasn’t that enough?’

Chapter Text

TW: talk of pressing charges; panic attack

Chapter seven

As soon as Keith felt a hand on his shoulder, his arms shot forward to defend himself. When he heard a man’s voice cry out, his mind started racing. He couldn’t place that voice. Who had gotten into his room this time?

As his vision started to clear, he was met by an annoyed glare. ‘James?’ Keith croaked out. Right. He wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He wasn’t there anymore. His heartbeat slowed.

James rubbed his nose, wariness replacing the annoyance. He contemplated Keith for a second, taking in the state his new roommate was in. ‘Sorry, your door was open so I thought… Never mind. I shouldn’t have touched you without permission, I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry I hit you.’ Keith offered in return. ‘Are you okay?’

James huffed. ‘Fine, you didn’t hit that hard.’ The two considered each other. Finally, just as Keith was about to ask what James wanted, the latter cleared his throat and looked away. ‘I made dinner.’

Frowning, Keith wondered if he meant for both of them or if he meant that the kitchen was now free for Keith to use. ‘Enjoy.’

James rolled his eyes. ‘For both of us. Hope you like spaghetti.’

Keith perked up. ‘I love spaghetti.’

James motioned for Keith to follow him. The small table had already been set, and James went over to the stove to carry the two pots over. Keith awkwardly waited. Did James have his own seat or could Keith sit wherever? Did James need help? Should he offer to grab drinks? Oh no, wait, there were already two glasses and a pitcher with water. Never mind then.

When James set down the pot with pasta, he noticed Keith awkwardly lingering. ‘Are… you gonna sit down or what?’

‘Oh, right.’ Still, Keith lingered, until James plopped down on the chair closest to him, leaving Keith only one other option. Much easier decision.

Already enthusiastically digging in, James suddenly paused. ‘Wait, oh my god, do you want to pray first? Sorry for being rude!’

‘No, no, it’s alright! I don’t pray.’

‘Then… how about some cheese? I can go get some?’

That left Keith stumped. It had been a while since someone had offered him that. Then, Keith being Keith, he simply blurted out: ‘I’m lactose intolerant.’

‘Oh.’ Silence. ‘Good to know.’

Filled with embarrassment, Keith shoved a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth, trying to ignore the rush of discomfort at that. His jaw locked tight, but his mouth was already filled anyway and he could feel it starting to slide down his throat. Trying to ignore the feeling of his throat working around the food, Keith sat as still as he could, hoping James didn’t notice. He was kind of hoping James had added some sort of dairy to the sauce that would kill him.

Unfortunately, the sucker had only added lots of oregano. Just the way Keith liked it. Asshole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the dinner being a bit awkward, Keith was content with the James-situation. Even the following days, the two would have dinner together. Keith mostly spent the days alone, considering that James still had a job to go to. In addition, James was the one who went grocery shopping. Even though James had offered to get anything Keith wanted, the latter never added anything on the list. The only input he had was when James and he discussed what they wanted for dinner. Since James’s days were so busy, Keith had offered to do most of the cooking, so he ended up adding to the list anyway, but he never asked for things that were just for him. He was fine just the way he was. Still, Keith found that, whenever possible, James would get lactose-free or -reduced products, and he’d even found a box of pills that might help. While Keith appreciated it, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have eaten a regular pizza or something. Yeah, he was lactose intolerant, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

James acted a bit careful around Keith, but it seemed like it was mostly because he didn’t really know the ravenette. Not because he knew what happened to Keith. And not because he felt bad, or angry. Not even because he was starstruck by living with an actor. He just treated Keith like a new roommate he had yet to get truly comfortable with. Which was a good thing, because James didn’t need to treat Keith like he was made of glass. He wasn’t.

Keith knew that, had he not been through what he went through, Keith would have been a lot more moody, aggravating and hot headed. Now, he was quieter, more withdrawn. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he realized it was because he didn’t want to make James angry. He didn’t know James, and he didn’t know how he acts when agitated.

Not that that mattered. He had thought he knew Shiro’s ex pretty well.

Maybe Keith should make James angry. Just so he knew what it would be like, what he could expect. Just so he wouldn’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop.

There was that one time, when James had been observing Keith while the latter was glued to his phone, that tensions had risen between the roommates. James had tried to casually mention seeing some blown up tweet badmouthing Keith, and had wanted to know more. Though the tweet hadn’t mentioned specifics, it had freaked Keith out realizing that the one person who didn’t know what happened to him could be finding out when Keith didn’t want him to know. To make matters worse, James was the attentive kind of person that immediately went over to his side to try to comfort him, but when James raised his hand, Keith had all but fallen off the chair to get away. James had begun apologizing profusely, but Keith had quickly stormed to his room. He couldn’t bare trying to calm down James as long as he wasn’t himself.

When he’d had the time to breathe, he sheepishly went back to James, who’d fortified himself on the couch with blankets and tea. Carefully, Keith draped one of the blankets around himself as well, silently taking his place next to James.

‘No touching?’ James kept staring at his tea, brows furrowed, as if he was trying to solve a very elaborate math equation.

‘No touching.’

‘No questions?’

‘Please.’

Leaning forward, James plucked the second mug off the coffee table and held it out for Keith as he leaned back. ‘Alright. I found a cool documentary about space, wanna watch?’

A corner of Keith’s mouth tugged up, but Keith made sure to hide it behind the steaming cup of tea. ‘Alright.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day, about a week after Keith’s disastrous birthday, he was scrolling through social media again, though he made sure to do his hate-update in the safety of his bedroom nowadays. He knew he shouldn’t bother keeping track, since people were only insulting him anyway, and the people who didn’t were bravely starting to suggest things Keith didn’t want to read. Regardless, Keith scrolled through twitter, on a third account. He’d had to remove his second account after it was besieged by angry fans. That cover was blown anyway, so he didn’t know why he should keep it.

Although, his main account was also receiving hate every day. He didn’t remove that one, but only accessed it every once in a while, when he needed to look back at all the sappy posts about Lance he’d had there, all the pictures he’d shared. When those memories hurt too much, he went back to the more recent tweets, or switched to his other account to go through his friends’ accounts.

Though the words thrown at him weren’t new, the hurt they left grew with each comment. I think I’d rather have those sticks and stones right now.

Rolling onto his back with a wince, Keith put his phone down and stared at the ceiling. What was he even doing?

The ringing of his phone answered that question. Picking up the phone would probably be a good first step.

Groaning, Keith swatted his bed, trying to find the phone he’d had in his grasp only seconds ago.

‘Your phone is ringing,’ James supplied, ever so helpful, from where he left the bathroom.

‘Thanks, James, I noticed.’ Then, swiping to answer, Keith brought the phone up to his ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Who is it?’

‘I don’t know yet, now shush.’

‘Is it safe to talk now?’ The voice on the other side huffed, amused.

‘Ryan!’

James stumbled into the room. ‘Ryan?’ Keith raised his eyebrow.

‘The one and only. Hi James.’

As James dropped himself onto Keith’s bed, the latter twisted the phone away from himself for a second to relay the message. ‘Hi Ryan!’ James exclaimed in return, nearly pressing his ear against the back of the phone. Awkwardly, Keith scooched away a bit. James leaned over to bridge the gap, still, but kept a bit more distance. The ravenette rolled his eyes, but the other didn’t notice.

With a churning in his stomach, Keith focused back on the conversation at hand. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Just wanted to check up on you, and I have some news later, when James butts out.’

‘Hey!’

Ignoring his roommate, Keith frowned. ‘News? Bad news? What happened?’ He could feel James’s eyes on him now, but ignored it in favor of keeping his dinner down.

‘Oh no!’ Ryan was quick to reassure, ‘not bad news! Just… an update on official business, meaning it’s confidential, meaning James should remember the definition of the word “privacy” and leave.’

‘Don’t be so mean, babe.’

‘Don’t call me “babe”.’

James huffed, a smirk on his face. ‘Hate to watch me leave but love to watch me go. I get it, Ry.’

A long groan. ‘I can’t even see you.’

James winked at Keith, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he got up from the bed. ‘I’ve got an easy solution for that. I get it. All you had to do was ask, and you shall receive!’ Laughing, James left Keith’s room and closed the door behind him.

On the other side of the line, Ryan spluttered. ‘Wait, what does that mean? Jamie? James!’ He cursed, but even Keith could hear the laughter in his voice.

‘So…’ Keith drawled, stretching the last letter. ‘”Jamie” huh?’

‘Hmm? Oh yea. He’s… something.’

‘Something. Is there also… something… between you?’

Keith almost dropped the phone when Ryan started laughing. ‘Oh no! He’s a shameless flirt, but he’s harmless. He likes flirting, but he doesn’t actually mean for something to happen.’

A soft smile spread over Keith’s lips. ‘Harmless flirt. Sounds like someone I know.’

‘Sorry I didn’t warn you. He’s not into guys, anyway, so you’re good, even if he turns the charms on you.’

‘Oh, sorry for assuming!’

‘No problem. Anyway. Now that he’s gone, I just wanted to tell you that Ina recovered the audio.’ Keith fell silent, a shiver running cold down his spine. A hesitation. Then: ‘Have you… decided if you want to press charges?’

‘I’m, uh, not really sure yet?’ Keith really was a coward, wasn’t he?

‘That’s totally fine, take your time. You know there’s no shame in that?’ When Ryan got no response, there was a brief release of air. Did Ryan sigh at him? Was he done with him being difficult? ‘I didn’t want to bring it up yet, but… if you want to take Evan to trial…’

Keith gasped. ‘You know his name?’

Ryan huffed, but it sounded amused. ‘First of all, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I hadn’t found that out by now, would I? And second, we kind of need it, if you’re going against him in court? And I mean, there was the stuff that Rolo collected. I had them tested, just in case we’d be lucky, and I found that even the hair he found was his. It matched with the fingerprints on the phone as well as the account who posted the pictures. Evan Hadlow, that’s him, isn’t it?’

Quietly: ‘Yeah.’

‘I’m sorry to bring him up, but as I was saying, if you decide you want to press charges, you’re going to have to see him. You’re going to have to look at the pictures, and probably hear the audio, and talk about it.’

‘I know.’

‘Just… It’s going to take a while before we get there, and I know the most important thing is your safety and health, but… it’s going to be really tough.’

‘I know.’

The line stayed silent for a bit. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know.’ Sighing, the shaking boy tried to calm himself. ‘Thank you for all your effort. I’m gonna… go. Now.’

The voice on the other side had softened. ‘Take care.’

After trading a shaky goodbye, Keith dropped his phone on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He had known Ryan was building up evidence for a trial, but he hadn’t realized, really realized, what that entailed. He couldn’t possibly think he could actually do this? No one would believe him. What if the evidence wasn’t good enough? What if Keith had blown things way out of proportion? What if he was just kidding himself, or exaggerating or trying to get more attention?

Keith scoffed at himself. He sure got plenty of attention now.

The screen started blurring, or no, it wasn’t the screen. Fuck, am I really going to cry again? Fucking weak. I’m fine. I got out, didn’t I? I’m safe n-

You’re safe, making me feel so good.

Keith’s stomach lurched, he felt his muscles tense to the point of seizing. His  body hurt so much that he couldn’t get himself to move to the bathroom. Breathing deeply, Keith closed his eyes tightly and buried his face in his knees, trying to get his stomach to settle. Breathing was really starting to hurt, which was both good and bad. Good, because the pain distracted him from his stomach until he was sure the carpet in the room would be safe. Bad for obvious reasons.

Wow breathing was really hurting, was there even any air here? Wait, was he dying?

Would sure solve a lot of problems.

Wait no-

He was really lightheaded now, was he even still breathing?

‘-eith?’

What was that? Keith looked up, but his vision was really blurry. There was someone in front of him. A brunette. Keith’s first instinct was to propel himself backwards, into the wall, but his mind then whispered Lance?

No, don’t be stupid, he would never.

Because you cheated.

Because you couldn’t stopitstopitIdon’twantthisithurts.

Peppermint.

That was peppermint. Why was he smelling peppermint? Blinking rapidly, Keith saw someone unfamiliar sitting in front of him. Also male, with long, light hair falling down his back – really, was that white or just really light blond? Keith didn’t recognize him.

Oh, that questioning noise was Keith’s.

‘You’re safe,’ The new guy whispered, You’re safe, making me feel so good, and Keith’s vision tunneled. Maybe he fell over, maybe he was already against the wall, Keith couldn’t remember. Through the haze, he could hear this new man making soothing noises. When the stranger noticed he got Keith’s attention, he switched back to talking. ‘I’m Lotor, a friend of James. I will not hurt you. You are in your room, in James’s apartment. It’s October.’ Somewhere, this process of repeating the same statements seemed familiar to Keith.

With the smell of peppermint still around – a small vial, in Lotor’s hand – and Lotor’s soothing voice repeating things Keith could understand, he could feel himself return from wherever he had been. He could hear quick breathing, and realized with a start that it was his own.

‘You’re doing great, Keith.’ Lotor murmured, still kneeling low in the ground, in front of Keith’s bed. ‘Is it alright if I touch you?’

A whine left Keith’s lips before words did. ‘NononopleasestopIdon’t-‘

‘Alright, I won’t touch you. I won’t, I promise.’ Seeing Lotor actually staying where he was kept Keith from teetering back over that edge. In the same low voice, Lotor’s eyes still trained on Keith’s, he asked something. It took a few more tries before Keith’s mind registered the question. ‘Can you tell me five things you can see?’

Not understanding, Keith kept staring at this stranger in front of him. Why was he… but he was looking so inviting. ‘Carpet.’ Keith managed to stutter. Upon Lotor’s encouraging nod, Keith moved his eyes a bit. ‘Dresser.’ Wait now he couldn’t see the stranger anymore. ‘Purple shirt.’

‘That’s right, what else?’ Lotor encouraged, his hand slipping to the purple shirt he was wearing.

The movement of a hand startled Keith a bit, but he’d also found the next thing to focus on. ‘James.’ When he heard his name, James startled a bit, even though he had seen Keith’s focus shift to him.

‘One more.’ Lotor encouraged, bringing Keith’s gaze back to him.

‘Lo-tor?’

The man’s smile grew, making his eyes crinkle. ‘Very good, Keith. Now, can you name four things you feel?’

‘Scared,’ Is what slipped out immediately.

Oh, that was a wrong answer. The man looked confused. ‘That’s okay, Keith. It’s completely fine to feel that way. Can you tell me physical things as well?’

Keith blinked at him. What was he feeling other than scared? Overwhelmed? No, that’s not physical. What’s a physical feeling?

‘What are you leaning against?’ Lotor decided to help him. ‘When you trace your fingers over it, what do you feel?’

Oh, right. Arms. Muscles. Moving. Those were things Keith could do. Slowly, Keith reached behind him. Huh, he really was leaning against something. Something hard and sturdy, kept him from falling over. Where did Lotor say he was? Right his room, so this is a… ‘Wall. It’s hard, and coarse and… scratchy.’

‘Good, and what are you sitting on?’

His hand fell down to something… ‘Soft. And crinkly, and moveable… blanket.’

He was once again rewarded with a smile. Very soft, curled ever so gently. ‘Very good,’ Slowly, the man reached out his hand, and offered it, palm up, to Keith. ‘And this?’

Keith stared, but the movement had paralyzed him. That was a hand. What was it trying to do? Hit? Choke? Caress? Grip? He shook his head, staring at the tanned limb, wishing he could become one with the wall.

‘That’s alright,’ Lotor reassured, lowering his hand back down. ‘You don’t have to. We can find something else. What is your hand touching right now?’

Keith’s hand? It was clutching the sheet, wasn’t it? It was pushing him away. It was bound. It was-

-in his lap. Flitting his eyes, briefly, down, he saw his hand, scratching. ‘Jeans?’

‘Excellent. Now, can you tell me three things you hear?’

Ironically, that made Keith fall silent for a bit. ‘James.’ His gaze went to his roommate. ‘Tapping his foot.’ Immediately, the sound stopped. James looked sheepish.

‘It’s alright, that was good.’ Lotor reassured, which automatically made Keith say Lotor’s name as well. ‘Yes, you can hear me talking as well. One more thing?’

Frowning, Keith tried to focus. What else could he hear? He felt like he was starting to float again, raising higher, as if he would melt into the ceiling and into the apartment above him where there was a… ‘Dog. Barking.’

The blonde (was he?) in front of him looked a bit surprised, before he blinded Keith again with his encouraging smile. ‘Very good! You’re doing great. Two things you smell?’

‘Peppermint.’ Lotor laughed, oh so gently, murmuring he could’ve expected that one. ‘Your cologne.’ It was true, there was a soft lingering smell of cologne, the kind that has already been worn an entire day and could only be traced faintly.

Nodding his head, Lotor asked for one more thing. ‘Last one, you’re doing perfect. One thing you can taste?’

That stumped Keith. Blinking in confusion, he ran his tongue around his mouth. Honestly, he could taste nothing. But would that disappoint Lotor? He looked up at Lotor through his lashes and hesitated. Maybe he would get mad? But really, what was he supposed to say? So finally, he admitted that he couldn’t taste anything in particular.

‘That’s okay.’ Lotor reassured. ‘You’ve done great. Would you like some chocolate?’ Where he got it from, Keith didn’t know, but Lotor had pulled out a bar of chocolate and offered Keith a freshly broken off piece. Wordlessly, Keith took it. It really was good chocolate. The way it melted in his mouth was nice too, warm and soft.

Warm and soft and wet and stretched-

‘Alright, you’ve done spectacular, Keith.’ Oh, still a conversation. That he was participating in. Not really knowing what else to do, and still sitting with a mouthful of chocolate, Keith nodded. He kept watching as Lotor sat there, observing the rise and fall of his chest. He found himself matching the breathing pattern, and forced himself to focus on the taste in his mouth and the low rumble of Lotor’s voice, banishing any lingering thoughts of wrong and danger.

Slowly, James approached. ‘Can I sit?’

Keith nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. James hadn’t known what happened to him, but if he kept this up, he would probably figure it out soon. If he hadn’t already, with the media exposure and all. ‘I’m fine.’

James sat, but didn’t respond to Keith’s statement. After a bit of silence, with Lotor silently observing the two but not interfering, James whispered: ‘You weren’t responding when I came home. It was kind of scary.’

Keith quickly looked down, angry with himself. He hadn’t even noticed James had come in. ‘I’m sorry.’ That was really dangerous. He had to be able to keep his head, had to know what was happening around him.

Quickly, James looked up at Keith again, holding up his hands. ‘No! Don’t be sorry! Just, I didn’t know what to do? And Lotor lives across the hall, and I know he has experience with these things so I went and got him and I’m sorry for bringing a stranger into your room without asking…’

Keith, though wary at James’ hands at first, managed to smile at the words. ‘It’s okay. Really. Thank you. For helping.’

With a start, James halted. He looked at Keith, almost scrutinizing, before smiling back. ‘No problem.’

Chapter Text

TW: Sexual harassment

Chapter eight

Hunk was right. Keith should’ve known Hunk was right. He’s such a cinnamon roll, of course he would know everything. Of course he’d gotten glimpses of the truth behind Hunk’s words, but it wasn’t up till now that Keith realized just how right he was.

Cooking was awesome.

It’s true, Keith should practice more – though that hasn’t been a problem lately – and he should really try some new recipes to switch things up, but he’s been having a pretty good time so far. He’d even gotten to the point of softly swaying along to the music when James wasn’t home to make fun of him. And swaying was exactly what he was doing, while cutting up some vegetables for dinner that night. He was even tempted to hum, but he knew James would get home any second and he wasn’t taking any chances.

His caution was rewarded when he heard the front door open not a second later. Ha, can’t laugh at me now. He offered his greeting like always, his focus still on the slicing motions of his hand.

Too late, he realized he didn’t get an answer back.

Cold hands grabbed his waist as a tall body pressed him up against the counter. At once, Keith went rigid, the hold on the knife tightening. Nonononono.

‘Miss me?’ His voice, whispering in his ear. His hand closing over the one holding the only defense Keith had left, rendering his right hand useless – again.

The words dying in his throat, Keith wasn’t at all surprised when all that escaped him was a choked whine. Please please please not again.

A dark chuckle washed over him. ‘How I missed those pretty little noises.’

He intertwined his fingers with Keith’s, his pelvis grinding into Keith so hard the latter could feel the counter digging into his hips. To make matters worse, he then pressed Keith’s torso into the cold granite. He was pinned. He couldn’t move, or get away.

‘Please don’t,’ Keith wheezed, his heart thumping loudly against the stone. He stared blankly ahead, trying to gain back the feeling in his arms so he could push or scratch or do anything other than just laying there and take it again.

He couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t, he needed to get out. How could he get out?

His feet were kicked apart, the empty space between them immediately taken up. Chances of escaping seemed even smaller. Keith focused on the throbbing in his hips from the counter, and not the throbbing pushing against him from behind. His breathing became choppy as his thoughts raced a mile a minute. How did he find him?

‘Hmm, so good,’ The hand on his back slid up to grip his neck, pressing Keith down harder, while the other squeezed his hip again. ‘Really missed you.’

Keith could feel the heat build behind his eyes. ‘Letmegoletmegoletmegoletmego.’

But his pleas were ignored. Again. His mind started to fog over, refusing to be here, but it couldn’t do that either cause he needed to be able to think to get away from him and how could he do that if he was drifing off? But he didn’t want to be here at the same time. What should he do?

It wasn’t like last time. He let himself get caught, he let himself get trapped, he let himself lose any way out that he’d had. This time, he could’ve done something about it. So why hadn’t he? Why couldn’t he move?

Ignoring the mouthing at his neck, Keith forced himself to lift his shaking arms. He wouldn’t take it again. Getting them underneath himself, he tried to push off, but the weight on his back and his unsteady footing weren’t exactly favorable. His hands grappled over the counter, but he couldn’t get the body behind him off of him.

‘How’d you find me?’

‘I’ll always find you,’ His low voice rumbled, his hands sliding over his torso, to his hips, down the waistband of his sweatpants. His voice got gravelly as he ground his hips into Keith again. ‘You’re mine.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James was awoken by a scream. At first, he lay in bed, wondering if it had even been real, or if it had been a part of the dream he couldn’t remember having, but then a thump followed close behind, accompanied by muffled sobbing.

Keith.

Vaulting himself from the bed, he stumbled towards the other’s bedroom, forcing himself to calm down before knocking. ‘Keith? It’s James, are you alright?’ When he heard nothing but ragged breathing and the continued cries, he knocked again. ‘Can I come in?’

He was answered by rambling that was too muted to make out the words, so he tried the doorknob. The door wouldn’t budge. Locked.

‘Keith, can you hear me?’ A whine. Alright. That could have been a yes, right? ‘Listen to my voice, okay?’ What am I doing? What had Lotor done? There had been the peppermint thing, but that wouldn’t work with a door between them. Probably. Right? What else? Please remember soon. I have to start talking. ‘It’s James,’ The repeating stuff thing maybe? What should he even say? ‘You’re in our apartment, you’re safe,’ More sobbing. Shoot, it wasn’t working. ‘Uhm, alright, just listen to me. You’re okay, you had a nightmare,’ I’m guessing, anyway. ‘Did I tell you about the time my family went to Italy?’ And he went off on a ramble, about their beach days and finding sand everywhere for days, about lazy napping in the sun, about the cultural trips they made and how he got lost but didn’t notice until his family found him again two hours later, the daily ice cream trips and what flavors he tried. Anything he could think of, he latched onto and tried to flesh out as vividly as he could. At some point, he’d heard a soft thump against the door, and a sliding noise, so he guessed Keith had sat down against the door. James mimicked him, but continued talking as if nothing had happened.

Finally, he had come to the end of the story. Had it been enough, had it even helped? Listening carefully, he couldn’t really hear anything in the room. Is that a good sign or not?

‘Keith?’

Some rustling. Then, in a hoarse voice: ‘I’m here.’

‘Are you…’ What, “okay”? Obviously not, that would be stupid. “better”?

‘I’m fine.’ Came the answer, before James even managed to think of his question. Darn.

‘Did you… have a nightmare?’ Was he even allowed to ask this? They probably weren’t close enough for Keith to be okay will all the sharing.

‘Yeah.’

Oh, he answered. ‘Do you… wanna talk about it?’

A beat. Then: ‘No.’

‘Alright.’ For a little bit, they sat in silence, James imagining them to be back to back, only with a door between them. He wondered what Keith was doing, if he was really fine, if he was spiraling. Should he get Lotor? He wanted to ask Keith what he should do. He wanted to ask if the story had helped, or the opposite, if there was anything else he could do. Should he even stay?

‘So…’ Keith trailed off, uncertainty laced in his tone. ‘How did you and Ryan meet?’

A weight lifted off of James’s shoulders. He huffed out a laugh. ‘Oh boy, prepare yourself, because this is a long story!’ Then he took his own advice and got comfortable – or well, as comfortable as you could get, sitting on a hardwood floor in the middle of the night. ‘So it all started in junior year of high school – and by then the awkward teen-looks were mostly behind me, so no blackmail material there, mind you – when I had a last minute schedule change, and he was new, just moved to town. So we ended up in the same painting class – can you imagine? So one day…’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When James startled awake next, it was not because of a scream, and it was not followed by a thump. Instead, it was because of an amazing smell that made his mouth water, and it was followed by a nagging pain in his neck. Groaning, James lifted himself off of the awkward nook between wall and door, rubbing his sore neck while trying to remember why, exactly, he was sleeping on the ground and not in bed.

Keith.

Right. Keith had had a nightmare, and James talked to him through the door. The door that was now opened. He didn’t even peek inside though, but headed for the kitchen, following his nose. And growling stomach. Why would he peek if he already knew what he would find?

‘Oh my god,’ James moaned upon the sight. Gorgeous, perfectly round, and large stacks of pancakes. Those were simply too many pancakes for two people, but James would damn well try. And they were all made by Keith, who turned to James, spatula still in hand, smiling shyly. James almost wanted to declare his undying love right on the spot, but didn’t know how that joke would be received. Instead, he withheld his drooling and admired the perfect goods. ‘Please tell me some of these are for me. I will owe you my life and my firstborn.’

Ignoring the bags underneath the other’s eyes, James instead focused on Keith’s little chuckle. ‘Yeah, James, they’re yours.’

‘Thank fuck.’

With a gentle smile tugging at his lips, Keith put the last pancakes on the stacks, turned off the stove, and carried the plates over to the table. James grabbed the syrup and dug in as soon as Keith did. He only barely suppressed another moan. These were the best damn pancakes he’d ever had.

Eventually, Keith spoke up. ‘I wanted to… thank you. For last night.’

Tempted to reassure Keith around the bite still in his mouth, James figured he should uphold some manners and swallowed first. ‘Really, no need to thank me, but if this is how you do it, by all means, continue.’ James bit his lip, wondering if that had been rude. Quieter, he added: ‘But seriously. No need to thank me. But… no problem.’

Keith smiled around his fork. ‘So…’ He trailed off, ‘What’re your plans for Halloween today?’

James halted, his fork halfway to his mouth. Keith just… asked him a question. About his life. That would be considered small-talk. His heart felt really warm all of a sudden. ‘Uhm, some friends wanted to hang out, watch some movies. But I could totally stay home?’

Keith had halted, but then slowly continued as if it hadn’t happened. ‘Oh no, really. Go hang out with your friends, that’s not why I asked.’ Of course he hadn’t. Come on, James.

James wanted to ask if Keith was sure, reassure him more that it would be fine if he would stay home, but wondered if that would seem too pushy. Maybe he shouldn’t. ‘So… are you doing something with friends?’

James could hit himself. Keith had never, in the short week he’d been here, mentioned his friends. And judging by the way his face fell, there was a reason for it. Read the signs, James! ‘Uh… no. Just… staying here. Watching some movies, as well, I guess.’

‘Oh. Cool.’ James’s eyes fell on Keith’s plate – or rather, the large pile of uneaten food that was left. Did he ruin his appetite? ‘Are you full?’

‘Hmm?’ Keith followed James’s gaze to his plate, then looked back up. ‘Oh! Yeah, I… snacked in between cooking so… and I made way too much anyway.’

James swallowed his bite, looking down at his stack, which, okay fair, also had too much left, and he hadn’t eaten before this. ‘Right.’

The clearing of a throat called James’s attention back to Keith. A mischievous twinkle was in his gaze. ‘So, are you dressing up?’

James barked out a laugh. ‘Hell yes! I get to dress as Spiderman without getting weird looks, of course I’m going to take that chance!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Keith had taken a shower after That Night, he’d taken a long time in the bathroom. The bruises had looked so bad, he’d gotten chocked up and had to look away. The water had probably been turned a bit too hot, but Keith hadn’t really noticed. He kind of mechanically scrubbed himself down, and then again, and again, until his skin – where it wasn’t a mottled purple – was red. Though, whether that was from the harsh treatment or the warmth of the water was anybody’s guess.

He’d stood underneath the stream for a long time, he lost track of how long. In the end, he’d felt guilty for the massive water bill he was giving James, and he wondered why the brunette hadn’t just yelled at him to get out already.

Now, a bit over a week later, he stared at himself in the mirror. Though the bruises were fading, changing into a sickly yellow, the rest was not. When he read through all the new hate on his social media, or watched another news channel talk about The Scandal, he’d been prone to dig his fingers into his cheek or neck, but those places were a lot less sensitive nowadays. Even though the hand-shaped bruises around his hips were almost gone, sometimes he’d put his hands over them anyway, and it would feel like they hadn’t left. Especially after last night, though, it was like they were still there, burned into his skin, more prominent, darker than before. He didn’t want to mess with his ribs too much, even he knew that aggravating them and interrupting the healing process, in the end, would mean nothing for his atonement and wouldn’t make Lance or Shiro forgive him.

Besides, if he hindered the healing progress, Nadia would notice at his follow up appointment, and she seemed like the kind of person who meddled and wouldn’t let go. Like a little terrier with a chew toy. He had enough attention as it was.

It was kind of… Nice. Having the house to himself that night. Now he could mope and stalk his friends in peace.

To be fair, he really did try to focus on some Halloween themed movies, but he couldn’t. He should’ve been at Pidge’s right now, fighting over the bowl of popcorn with Lance, ignoring Shiro’s (fond) reprimands, and antagonizing Pidge further because despite their bickering, he and Lance were still disgustingly adorable.

Used to be.

He looked at the picture on his phone again, one taken when the costumes put together and they’d tried them on. Lance wanted to do a couple’s costume, but Lance being Lance, he had to make it a little… extra. And so, he dragged in another couple.

Shiro, despite being seven years old, was dressed as a grandma, you know, since he already had the white hair going for him. E- his ex was dressed as a hunter. Lance was sporting both a gorgeous red cape that Keith may or may not have wanted to steal for himself after that night – and not just because that meant he could take it off Lance – and a ridiculously smug look on his face. Keith, the Keith in the picture at least, was grinning so wide the sight of it hurt present-time Keith’s cheeks. He was dressed up as a wolf.

So yeah. That was where Keith was supposed to be tonight. Instead, he was sadly slumped in the couch, tearing up pieces of pancake leftovers from breakfast, despite knowing that he wouldn’t be able to eat any more. The thought only wanted to make him spit them out right away.

Trying to find a distraction in his phone, Keith was glad he hadn’t eaten much before. It only would’ve made him more nauseous upon seeing the new tweet.

He’d known there was still some kind of Halloween plan, considering the fact that Hunk had tweeted pictures of all kinds of awesome themed food, but he that didn’t prepare him for the sting of finding the picture Pidge posted. It was of the entire group – Pidge, Hunk, Allura, Adam. Shiro. Lance.

They were all hanging out together, looking so happy. So whole. There was no room left, no sign that this wasn’t anything but a complete friend group.

The caption wasn’t even anything passive-aggressive, just a simple “As is tradition, our Halloween-movie marathon! What do you think – is A Nightmare Before Christmas a Halloween movie, or a Christmas movie?”

Still, Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of his brother and… Lance. They were right next to each other, Shiro grinning brightly as Lance laughed. Keith recognized the face Shiro had pulled though – he’d made a terrible joke, and he was proud of it.

Lance looked so happy. They all looked so happy, as if nothing had ever happened. Keith guessed that it was still visible in the terrible and probably cheap outfits that Shiro and Lance sported, probably last-minute splurges. Why else would Lance agree to wear such an awful, unfashionable vampire costume? If it had been planned, Lance could have done so much better.

They were all just… fine.

And here Keith was, alone and wallowing, and they were all hanging out together and happy. Happy without him. As if Keith’s life hadn’t just been completely turned around. As if they didn’t utterly hate someone that used to be a close friend. As if he didn’t need them, or miss them. Like they didn’t even miss him.

As if he didn’t even exist.

Before he could spiral further, his phone vibrated in his hands.

FROM: JAMES
I'm heading home early. Should your friendly neighborhood spider bring food?

Keith smiled. What a dork. His friends may not remember his existence, but at least someone did. It didn’t make it alright, but it was… something.

TO: JAMES
No, I’m full, but thanks for askign

TO: JAMES
asking*

Why was James coming back early though? Was he tired after having to stay up with him? Was he too worried Keith was going to freak out again? Was it Keith’s fault? After some deliberation, Keith sent another text.

TO: JAMES
You’re not coming back early because of what happened right?

FROM: JAMES
np!

FROM: JAMES
Nah, the others were ready for the night to end (weak). Seriously, you don’t have to feel guilty. You can’t help having nightmares, I just want to help you. If you want me to

Keith sighed, his roommate really was sweet.

TO: JAMES
Thanks

TO: JAMES
I’ve got A Nightmare Before Christmas on, but I’m only a few minutes in. Want me to wait for you?

FROM: JAMES
YESSSSSSS THAT’S MY FAVORITE! My friends didn’t want to watch it, said it’s a Christmas movie. You just saved my entire evening! :DDD

Chuckling, Keith shook his head. His roommate was a dork.

Chapter Text

Chapter nine

After the… less than fortunate first meeting with Lotor, Keith found the taller man hanging out at James’s apartment more often. Sometimes, he would simply come over, at first only when James was around as well, and later with just Keith. He started inviting Keith over to his apartment, which wasn’t all that exciting, considering it was across the hall and almost a replica to James’s. At first, Lotor had also asked Keith to join him for walks or trips, but after Keith refused every single offer to leave the building for an entire week, he had stopped offering.

The first few times Lotor had joined them in the apartment, Keith had felt like James had given him a babysitter, and he would just sit moodily while Lotor and James, and later, just Lotor, would do their thing. Sometimes he even avoided them entirely and brood in his room, listening to them in the living room. When it was Lotor alone, he couldn’t exactly do that, so he would curl up in the corner of the couch and snoop through Twitter.

But they never bothered Keith, just let mind his own business. Never making him feel like they were watching him, or like they expected him to break down and needed them to be there to put him back together. When James and Lotor hung out together, they’d talk about whatever, or simply watch a stupid tv-show together, without forcing Keith to participate. It was nice.

The first time the other two decided to watch something together, Keith had been anxious, fearing they’d see the news or some gossiping station and learn things about him, but James apparently only used his tv for Netflix. From down the hall, Keith could relax when he heard them immediately settle on a series they’d apparently already started before Keith had moved in.

The watching-something-together had evolved to extend to Keith as well, when one time Keith had come to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and found James and Lotor in the middle of a documentary about space. After that, Keith joined them more often.

Stupid space and all it's stupid theories and stupid secrets. How was he supposed to resist that temptation?

Kind of like Lance’s interest in the ocean and its alluring mysteries. How they’d spent hours, curled up on the sofa, debating on what documentary they’d watch. Space for both of them, the ocean for Lance, or aliens for Keith. Or all three and forego sleep altogether cause who needs that anyway?

Whether it was the two roommates together, all three men, or only Keith and Lotor, Keith let himself join the others more and more. Keith could feel himself relaxing around the two, and didn’t even want to think of kicking himself for it. Why would he kick himself for letting people in? That was a very normal part of life and he didn’t struggle with it at all because he was fine.

On weekends, either James or Lotor would take over the cooking, and they’d usually eat together in front of a new documentary or continuing a show. Once evening, Lotor made a dish that contained dairy, sending Keith to moodily lay in bed, clutching his stomach. Lotor had apologized profusely, and even though Keith insisted James and Lotor continue their show – which they’d gotten Keith hooked on as well – Lotor had left not too long after. Having learnt his lesson, James knocked on Keith’s door and only entered when Keith grunted – which was Keith for “yes”.

When James stuck his head around the corner, Keith dragged himself upright, even though that made the nausea worse. ‘You alright?’ James asked, carrying a pile of… something… over to his bed. Keith nodded, frowning at the heap in James’s arms. ‘Oh, yeah, here. I brought you a heat pad. I hope it helps with your stomach.’

‘Thanks,’ Keith murmured, taking the pouch from James and immediately hugging it to his stomach. He kept watching as James held up a fuzzy blanket and wrapped it around Keith’s shoulders. It was even softer than it looked, but also really big and strangely heavy, and Keith honestly wished there were at least five more he could bury himself under. Tensing in anticipation, Keith was relieved to find that James merely sat down next to Keith on the bed, their shoulders and thighs a breath apart. Not that there really was any other option, with the edges of the blanket bunched up between them like a little wall. Opening up the laptop he’d brought, James didn’t say a word and merely put on a conspiracy video series that Keith had once binged with Pidge. Keith had no idea how James knew he liked them, but he guessed he knew now, due to Keith mouthing some of the lines along with the narrator.

When Keith started fighting to stay awake, James, the saving grace, yawned and admitted he’d missed at least five minutes because he’d been dozing off.

‘I’m turning in for the night,’ James announced as he closed the laptop and got up. Keith started taking the blanket off, but James shook his head, an aborted hand-movement having caught Keith’s eye first. ‘You keep it.’

Keith sank back against the wall, clutching the soft fabric close to his chest. James had turned to leave, but looked back at the call of his name. Keith smiled at him, soft as the blanket draped around his shoulders. ‘Thank you.’

The brunette returned the smile. ‘No problem. Good night.’

‘Good night.’

When James had left the room, Keith got up to lock the door, wearing the blanket as a cape, the heat pad his shield. When he laid back down and closed his eyes, he drifted off in no time. With a heat source pressed against him and surrounded by soft fluff cuddled, he found his mind at peace for the first time in a long while.

He hadn’t slept that soundly since before his birthday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you asked Keith when his friendship with Lotor began, he'd say it happened one evening when they shared dinner at the latter’s apartment. James had called earlier that day, saying he was working late, so Keith found himself in front of Lotor's door, a pot filled with a hearty stew in his hands, waiting for his neighbor to let him in. Though it was the first time Keith initiated the contact, eating together had become a regular thing between them and there really was no excuse to let good food go to waste.

‘I found this amazing red wine today, would you like some?’ Lotor offered while Keith started serving portions.

The raven halted, before forcing himself to continue as if nothing happened. ‘No thank you.’ Figuring that, after weeks of short answers, Keith owed it to Lotor to elaborate every once in a while. ‘I don’t drink anymore.’

Innocently, Lotor tilted his head, pouring himself a glass. ‘Why not?’

Keith chewed his lip, hesitating. Looking through his lashes, he was met with such an open and honest expression, Keith made the conscious decision to divulge, just a little. ‘I like to keep my head clear.’

Probably sensing this was a sensitive topic, because he was magical like that, Lotor did not question further. The two ate in companionable silence, Lotor with his wine, Keith with a glass of water. Honestly, the thought and sight and smell of that one glass was enough to run chaos on Keith’s appetite, but he shoveled the food into his mouth anyway, figuring he’d have to just get over it. Or he’d just throw it all back up later, the night could still go in so many directions. All he had to do for now was ignore the weight on his tongue and chew so much he wouldn’t feel the slide down his throat.

Lost in his thoughts, Keith revisited the first time he’d met Lotor, and what James had said. Something about how Lotor knew all those things to calm Keith down, and James’s words, sparked Keith’s curiosity. Finally, because the younger man couldn’t really bear not asking, he caved. ‘What did James mean? He said you had experience with “these things” after… you helped me. When we met. What did he mean?’

Pausing only minutely, Lotor didn’t show any surprise, if he even felt it at all. ‘I used to have panic attacks too.’ Like that wasn’t a big admission.

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Lotor shrugged. ‘It’s not your fault.’

Keith’s spoon was back on the table, the clanking a bit too loud for what Keith meant to express. ‘Yeah, I’m really sick of hearing that. Things not being my fault doesn’t stop them from happening.’

Lotor regarded him carefully, putting down his own spoon as well, gentler than Keith had. ‘You’re right.’

Underneath Lotor’s careful scrutinization, Keith wilted. ‘I’m sorry.’

He shot him a careful smile. ‘No need. It’s alright.’

‘Is that…’ Keith cleared his throat. ‘Is that something you’d want to talk about?’

At that, Lotor did look surprised. To be honest, Keith wasn’t even sure if he was the right person for Lotor to talk about mental health, but he felt like maybe he should offer some support in return, after everything Lotor had done for him.

But alas. ‘Not while you feel obligated to listen.’ Lotor settled on.

The two continued their dinner in silence, though Keith now felt awkward. Was it too one-sided? Would Lotor get tired of having to support Keith all the time while not getting anything in return?

Tsk. If Lotor gets tired of me and doesn’t want me around anymore, he should just say so.

When did he get so whiny? This wasn’t like Keith at all. He wasn’t supposed to just sit around, feeling scared of everything. Being forced into inaction because the outside would be too confrontational for him and doing any labor would hurt his ribs or ankle or thumb and it was driving him crazy.

‘Is everything alright?’ Why did Lotor have to look so concerned all the time? Yes, Keith had been frowning a little, but that was his natural expression. It wasn’t that deep, he was…

‘I’m fine.’ Oops, that had been a little curt. The guilt settled in as Keith watched Lotor nibble his lip, but he was still annoyed that Lotor was watching him, hesitating, as if Keith were a ticking time bomb. Although Keith supposed he should be grateful someone bothered to check up on him – my friends sure aren’t – all the incessant asking was becoming too much. Did Lotor not believe him? Because the younger was experiencing enough disbelief as it was.

The two cleared the table in silence. Lotor had started washing the pot Keith had brought over. The latter kind of had that annoying splint on his thumb to keep dry, so he couldn’t do it himself, but that wouldn’t stop him from contributing his share and drying the damn thing. Even if it was a bit heavy and trying to manipulate it around to get all sides was difficult when he shouldn’t use his thumb.

In trying to grip the pot between his arm and body to get a better grip, he pressed it right up against his bruised ribs. The boy let out a hiss, not realizing his arm had slacked until he realized he no longer felt the weight he’d been carrying. Bracing himself for the impact, Keith was surprised to find it never came. Opening the eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, he found Lotor, crouching on the floor with the pot clutched tightly in his hands. Damn, was there anything the guy couldn’t do?

He just had to go and save everything huh?

Lotor’s blue eyes bet Keith’s indigo ones. Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask don’t-

‘Are you…’

Fuck.

‘I’m fine, Lotor!’

Carefully getting up from his position on the floor, the taller man placed the pot safely on the counter, before turning back to his companion. Who was not at all sulking. ‘Are you sure about that?’ A perfect eyebrow raised high towards his perfect hairline.

Keith’s scowl deepened. ‘Yes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes!’

‘Cause you don’t look-‘

‘Well obviously I don’t look alright, I’m obviously not!’ Uh-oh, so he exploded after all. And Lotor just stood and watched. ‘Of course I’m not fine! I can’t go outside because people would attack me or harass me for something I didn’t do because it’s all just one big misunderstanding and nobody is listening to me and no one believes me and I can’t go home and my body hurts with everything I do and I can’t work because I can’t, I am literally unable to and no one wants me anyway and everyone is just insulting me and blaming me and they’re not listening and I’m trying to explain but all I’m getting is more insults and hate so of course I’m not fucking fine.’

As he stood there panting after his rant, the worst happened. Keith’s lip started to wobble. He huffed, and tried to suppress it. ‘And I can’t seem to stop crying and I need other people, who I don’t even know, to calm me down.’

‘It’s alright to cry, and to feel angry or wronged. ‘

The younger threw his hand into the air. ‘I know it’s alright but everyone’s still treating me like it’s not!’ Keith angrily paced away, Lotor hesitantly following him to the living-room area. ‘Nadia keeps haunting me about meeting with a psychiatrist, James keeps asking if he needs to get me something from town, Ryan keeps asking if I want to press charges, I hate eating and I can barely sleep without thinking back to-’ He slapped his hand over his own mouth, immediately flinching at the memory of a swinging hand. His cheek throbbed.

His throat started closing up but he wasn’t sure if it was due to memory or emotion, though he guessed the latter judging by the heat dripping from his eyes. ‘I just want it to stop.’ Stopstopstopstopstop. ‘I don’t want this.’ Thiscan’tbehappeningstop.

‘Keith?’ Lotor approached, slowly, his hands held out placatingly. ‘Can you take a deep breath for me? Watch my chest and we’ll do it in sync, alright? Breathe in?’

His eyes wide and blinking hard, Keith tried to watch the steady rising and falling of Lotor’s broad chest. ‘I fucking know how to breathe,’ He wheezed, though his panting wasn’t exactly doing wonders in proving himself right.

Still, Lotor smiled. ‘I know you can. You’re so good at-’ You’re so good, making me feel so good.

Keith’s vision tunneled. His body was thrumming, his shirt chafing his arms and stomach, moving almost as if he was dragged across something-

‘What’s one hundred minus seven?’

‘What?’ Lotor was crouching next to him, his brows furrowed, yet still keeping his distance. When did they get to the ground? Keith squeezed his eyes shut, but no, that only made the vertigo feel worse.

‘- with me? One hundred minus seven. What is it?’

‘Ninety-three?’ Keith gasped, looking over at the man next to him again.

He beamed. ‘Exactly! Now, ninety-three minus seven?’

Blinking to clear his vision, Keith scratched at the carpet below him, but it wasn’t fluffy enough to hold on to anything. It was kind of rough, actually. Very coarse. Sandpaper-y. If it were up to Keith, he’d get a soft and fluffy one. Maybe blue. ‘Eighty-six?’

Scratching at the fabric, Keith missed what Lotor said next. Still, Lotor did not look annoyed, he merely looked down at Keith, clutching his own hand before releasing again. Slowly, so Keith could see exactly what was happening, Lotor extended his own hand to Keith, palm up. ‘Minus seven?’

‘Seventy-nine.’ Watching Lotor carefully, Keith reached out to trace his fingertips over the tanned skin. ‘Soft.’ Frowning, his hand jerked. ‘Cold.’ Lotor chuckled, and Keith retracted his hand quickly, before it registered that that was a happy sound. Happy sound was alright. Gently, he slid his hand back onto Lotor’s, now palm to palm. ‘Smooth. Uh, seventy-two’

‘You’re doing great. Keep going.’ When Keith got down to two, the tension had left his shoulders. Lotor spoke up again. ‘I’m going to squeeze your hand, but I will not hurt you. If you don’t like it, you can pull back.’ When Keith didn’t remove his hand, Lotor softly increased the pressure. Was that what he called squeezing? Oh, there it was again. Gently, so gently, Lotor squeezed and released. Then, he softly tapped his fingertips on Keith’s palm. The ravenette made an aborted attempt to move away, but settled back onto the gentle rhythm anyway.

‘Nice.’ Keith finally settled on. His eyes lifted once again, from his own hand to Lotor’s watchful gaze.

‘I’m glad,’ Lotor said softly. ‘Would you like me to stop?’

‘No.’ The word sounded forced, but Lotor’s rewarding smile made it worth it.

‘Can I keep going?’ Lotor asked, which was kind of redundant but somewhere far away, Keith appreciated it nonetheless. The pale boy nodded. ‘Alright. Tell me if it’s too much.’ Once again, he nodded. But didn’t need to follow up on it. So he sat, watching as Lotor tapped his fingers against Keith’s palm in an indiscernible pace before engulfing his hand entirely and squeezing without rhythm.

Keith felt cold. He could really use a hug right now, but he also really, really didn’t want that.

Keeping his right hand in Lotor’s, Keith slowly reached out to Lotor’s chest with the other, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing for himself, accompanied by a dependable thumping. Even though his gaze stayed on his hand on Lotor’s royal blue jumper, he could still see the way Lotor went rigid. ‘Do you…’ Was Lotor sounding unsure? ‘Would you like a hug?’

Magic, what did I tell you?

Keith clutched onto the fabric, scrunching it into his fist, ignoring the solid warmth underneath now. ‘Yes,’ He hung his head, squeezing the hand in his in return. ‘But I can’t.’ A warm pressure settled over the hand holding Lotor’s shirt. Lightly, so Keith could pull back any time.

‘Alright.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although he wasn’t sure how long the two had stayed on Lotor’s floor, he did know that he felt completely calm when he finally went back to the apartment across the hall. It had been very embarrassing, and Keith was sure Lotor must have accurate suspicions of what happened to him now. Which was even more embarrassing. But he felt a little lighter at the same time.

Maybe he just exhausted himself that much, seeing as he once again got through an entire night without bad dreams or waking up.

The next morning, he woke up to find a few… gifts. In front of his bedroom door. He’d only gotten up because he’d needed to use the bathroom, and almost tripped over a large mass just laying there along with a plate. Deciding his bladder had the priority for now, Keith awkwardly – and sleepily – hopped over it and relieved himself. He brought the plate and squishy, pillow-y thing back into the room with him. Some apple slices were on the plate, which almost toppled off as Keith dragged the large other thing inside with him. The plate was dumped on the nightstand, while the other thing was dropped on his bed. First, he checked the time on his phone to see it was already well into the morning. Yikes.

Drawing back the curtains, he pretended to still be some kind of functioning human being while opening the text from James.

FROM: JAMES
Morning! Heard from Lotor you had another rough night. We ran out of cereal (sorry, I’ll get more. Want anything else?) so I wanted to make sure you had at least something for breakfast.

FROM: JAMES
Also!!! Got you a gift, thought it might help! And I heard they were your favorite soooo

Smiling, Keith figured one slice of the fruit wouldn’t hurt. He wasn’t all that hungry, but he’d always liked apples, and James even went through the trouble of cutting them. Investigating the giant plush, now that he actually had some light, he was delighted by what he found.

It was a hippo.

A giant, soft, cuddly, squishy, purple hippo plushie. It was so big he could use it as a body pillow, or a very big regular pillow. Hell, he could probably partially hide underneath it.

It was perfect. Its paws were sewn on in such a way that they could still flop around, which was something Keith loved in stuffed animals. The eyes were also stitched, so no chances of any parts falling off.

Keith laid down on his bed again, cuddling up to the plushie, munching happily on his apple. He rested his head on the soft purple creature, reaching for another slice, but came up with a mostly empty plate. Huh, this is already the last one. Shrugging, he settled back down, wrapping his arms tighter around the hippo. A functioning human being probably wouldn’t go right back to sleep.

But then again, he just got a hippo-pillow-slash-plushie.

And he wasn’t a functioning human being anyway.

Fuck that. And Keith drifted off again.

Chapter Text

Chapter ten

Keith never mentioned what he had told Lotor during that dinner, and Lotor never asked. Though a bit anxious to see what Lotor would do, Keith was surprised to find the following week transpired just as the last had. He’d like to say something changed, because that was what always seemed to happen after these kinds of moments (whatever that meant), but he still obsessed over documentaries with James and Lotor. Keith still cooked for James and himself. He still went over to Lotor’s when he got bored.

And he had been bored that particular day. So he went over to Lotor’s, sitting down on his couch, nicely curled up in the corner of the couch while Lotor did whatever it was he did for a job from his laptop. With the way he was sitting, Lotor was in front of him, and so it was alright for Keith so scroll through his twitter without Lotor seeing the screen.

There had apparently been an interview with the actor who would replace Keith in the movie. The blog who talked about the interview mentioned he went only by Akira, and was a rising actor who had been admiring Keith’s career. The article continued to praise Akira, continuously comparing the two. Though, it was more bashing Keith and praising Akira into the heavens. Because Akira was sweet and genuine and not at all like the role he was going to be playing.

People in the comments mentioned maybe Lance could date Akira instead, since he looked like Keith but had a much better personality. He was an actual sweetheart; he’d already said he didn’t agree with these kinds of actions; he was just perfect.

Who even goes by just one name, anyway? Who does he think he is, Cher? Beyoncé? Doesn’t even look that “bright”, he probably had everything handed to him in life.

Fuck, now I’m bashing someone I don’t even know. No wonder people thought he sucks. Lance would probably like Akira much better than Keith too. Like that’s difficult, he hates me now. Would Akira hang out with the others as well?

Pull yourself together, now you’re just imagining things. Breathe!

He took a few deep breaths, trying to center himself and settle the squirming in his stomach.

‘Hey, you okay?’

Keith’s head snapped up to look at Lotor, who’d paused his work to look over. ‘Yeah, sure. Fine. Don’t worry.’ At the reassurance, Lotor paused, but then turned back to the laptop in his lap.

Great, so Keith had gotten Lotor worried again. He was sure to get tired of Keith soon. Can’t blame him though, Keith moped, it’s not like I’m good company, even on a good day. Maybe that was why the others were so happy he was gone? Or maybe they already hated him before everything went down and only put up with him for Shiro and Lance’s sake? Maybe they all jumped on the opportunity to drop him?

No, that can’t be true. We got along. We liked each other.

But they did seem happy to block him out. If they’d actually liked him, they’d have let him explain wouldn’t they? Not even mom and dad called. Shiro must have talked to them and now they hate me too.

Am I a bad person? Is that why it happened? Maybe I deserved it. James and Lotor sure deserved better than him. Maybe I should just leave. There must be a motel where he could stay. Surely that’s better than waiting for them to kick him out.

But what if someone recognized him? What if people showed up again? Maybe he should ask Ryan if he knows another place to stay? But no, he’s brought enough trouble to Ryan as it was. And he’ll just want to know when I’ll be pressing charges and I can’t do that.

‘Keith.’ Lotor was crouched in front of him, hand on his knee, eyebrows drawn. He sounded like this wasn’t the first time he called out for him.

Keith jolted. ‘What? Why…?’

Removing his hand, Lotor sat back on his haunches. ‘You weren’t responding, are you sure everything’s alright? Your breathing is really shallow.’ Keith opened his mouth, but hesitated. Such a bother… ‘Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.’ Lotor smiled encouragingly. ‘But if you ever need someone to talk, you know where to find me.’

Looking at his lap, Keith nodded. ‘I know. And I appreciate it, it’s just…’

When it was clear that sentence wasn’t going to be finished, Lotor continued, voice warm and soft as ever. ‘It is what it is. Sometimes, time takes its time. Don’t feel pressured.’

Smiling softly, Keith dared to meet the other’s eye. ‘Thanks. For everything.’

Getting up, Lotor smiled back. ‘You’re welcome. By the way, I found a new documentary about ancient cultures and aliens on youtube, I thought maybe you’d want to watch it together?’

Keith’s smile widened. ‘I’d like that.’

Lotor sat back down in his previous spot, picking up his laptop again. ‘Let me finish this first.’

‘What are you doing anyways?’

‘Composing,’ Lotor answered, ‘why do you ask?’

Stunned, Keith was a bit slow to answer. ‘You’re a musician?’

Lotor paused, the corner of his mouth lifting. ‘Kind of. I’m more into creating music at the moment, but I do know how to play a few instruments.’

‘That’s awesome!’ Keith turned to face the taller man again. ‘What do you play? And where do you practice?’

‘Cello mostly, but some piano as well.’ He chuckled at Keith’s soft “wow”. ‘I have the same flat as you and James, though no roommate, so I have an extra room for my music. And a school to practice in.’

At that point, Keith was almost vibrating. ‘Can I see? Maybe? Some day?’

A startled chuckle left Lotor’s lips, his perfect eyebrows raising. ‘Uhm, yeah. Sure.’ Still smiling, Keith nodded. For a second, they turned back to their respective activities, but then Lotor turned back to Keith again. ‘I have an idea. Do you like surprises?’

‘Not really.’

A chuckle. ‘Maybe you’ll like this one. Just let me finish this first.’

Frowning, Keith acquiesced, though stretching his vowels. ‘Okay…?’ Lotor repeated the same word back to him, turning back to his work with a smile. Instead of going back to a phone that would only make him miserable again, Keith sat and watched the other, letting his thoughts drift. He meant it when he said he didn’t really like surprises, so he was curious to see what was going to happen.

What felt like an eternity later, Lotor finally closed his laptop.

‘Alright,’ Lotor got up from the couch, holding out his hand to Keith. ‘Let’s go.’

Eyeing it with a frown, Keith stayed curled up as he was. ‘Go? Go where?’

‘Don’t worry, we won’t leave the premises.’ Lotor pointedly glanced at his hand, waiting until the other hesitantly took it. Gently, the taller of the two pulled Keith to his feet, immediately guiding him over to the door.

‘Wait, you said we weren’t leaving the building?’

Looking over his shoulder, Lotor grinned. Instead of taking them to the elevators, like Keith had suspected after leaving the apartment, he took him to the stairs. ‘I said we weren’t leaving the premises.’

And they went up.

Even more confused than before, Keith let himself be led up the stairwell, wondering if this was the moment Lotor decided he’d had enough of him and would dispose of him. Which, to be fair, wouldn’t surprise him. The world had apparently found a substitute for him anyway. He wondered if Akira would enjoy documentaries as much as James and Lotor, or if he would cook nearly every night. If he would fit in better than Keith had.

He shook his head. At least it was him being led up flights of stairs by a probably-British guy with questionable intentions.

Two floors above theirs, and there were no more stairs to take. Lotor paused in front of the door there, looking back to his companion, before gently muttering something Keith was sure would get bleeped out in an interview.

Holding out his hands placatingly, Lotor looked remorseful. ‘I forgot something. Just… wait here. Please. I’ll be right back.’

Nodding, Keith wasn’t sure if he actually would wait. What could it hurt? But the thing is, with this probably being the roof, there was a lot that could hurt. Plus, there didn’t really seem to be anyone in close proximity – did Keith even want to go through that door?

Still, he sat down on the top step, and waited. He could feel his phone burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans, but he forced himself not to look. He knew what was waiting for him there anyway.

When Lotor returned a few minutes later, he came jogging up the stairs, with a large bag in his arms. ‘Alright, let’s go.’

Raising his eyebrows, Keith slowly got up. ‘What’ve you got there?’

Lotor smirked. ‘You’ll see.’ And he opened the door. Keith’s eyes watered when the cold autumn air hit him, but he followed his companion anyway. He’d been right: they were on the roof.

And it was beautiful. The air was cold and crisp, but in the dark, the stars overhead shone brighter than Keith had seen in a while. The winter sky had always been Keith’s favorite, but he didn’t realize he’d longed to see it so much until he could lay his eyes upon the constellations he’d been missing. When he looked back at the man beside him, Lotor had already started unloading his bag.

A picnic blanket was messily laid out on the concrete, a second, bigger, fuzzy blanket at the ready, along with something that appeared to be a thermos flask.

‘What’s this?’ Keith questioned, sitting down beside Lotor when the latter patted the ground next to him. The picnic blanket did nothing to stop the cold from seeping in from below, but the fuzzy blanket around their shoulders at least filtered the wind.

Lotor held out a cup with steaming liquid out to him. ‘It’s hot cocoa.’

Skeptical, Keith only stared at it, before raising his gaze to meet Lotor’s. ‘I’m lactose intolerant?’ He wanted to make a playful dig at Lotor for forgetting it when, not too long ago, he’d gotten very acquaintanced with the problem.

Lotor laughed. ‘Oh, believe me, I will not make that mistake again.’ Once again, he held out the cup to Keith. ‘It’s made with soymilk.’

A smile spreading over his face, Keith took the cup and warmed his hands on it. ‘Soymilk-cocoa huh? Nice. Thank you.’

The two clasped their cups, diverting their attention to the sky. Keith wondered why Lotor had brought him there, though he had to admit it was a good distractor from the fact that he’d been replaced by this amazing dude that everyone loved and Lance was sure to love as well. That was fine. He had soy-cocoa.

‘What’s your favorite constellation?’

Not realizing his gaze had fallen to the cocoa in question, Keith looked up at the other man, who’d already turned to look at him in turn. It was an odd question to ask – though, he guessed it wasn’t, considering they were kind of stargazing. He only hesitated for a second. ‘Orion out of the winter-sky constellations. Otherwise, Cassiopeia.’

Putting down his cup, Lotor leant back on his hands, looking back up at the stars. ‘Why those two?’

Keith, too, turned back towards the sky. ‘They’re the first constellations I find. Whenever I look up, they’re always right there. Well, I guess Orion isn’t always there, but whenever he is, he’s the first I find. And Cassiopeia is too. Not the big dipper, but her. All the time. As if they were waiting for me to find them.’

‘Cassiopeia huh. Don’t hear that one often.’ The mirth in Lotor’s voice was clear. His eyes shimmered when he looked down at Keith again, and in that moment, the way his eyes flashed in the dim light, it reminded Keith of being in a bar and accepting a drink he shouldn’t have.

Immediately, Keith scooted farther away, needing more than a breath between him and his neighbor. Really, he went up to a secluded roof and cozied up to a stranger who gave him drinks? Did he not learn anything? He stared at the cup in his hands, trying to recall the taste of it. Right now, all it tasted like was ash, but had there been an aftertaste that didn’t belong there? He only remembered it being sweet, had it only been sweet?

Frowning in concern, Lotor leaned closer. ‘Is something wrong?’

Keith leaned away, almost knocking over the thermos. ‘Drink from it.’ He demanded, his vision blurring at the edges. Was there really something in there? Was he already being affected? But hadn’t Lotor poured his drink from the same flask? One he’d already sipped from?

Lotor’s eyebrows seemed to kiss his hairline. His mouth opened, but he hesitated. His eyes took in Keith’s frame, the way he leaned away, the way he looked like he wanted to punch his cocoa. And slowly, his eyebrows lowered. The widening of his eyes didn’t bode well, but since Lotor was quick to even out his features Keith was willing to overlook that. He nodded, and took a large gulp, nearly finishing his cup. Without saying anything, he held Keith’s gaze, and they waited. Keith hated the way his eyes had gained a determined gleam, or how his lips had pressed into a firm line.

Slowly releasing a breath, Keith looked away quickly. That looked an awful lot like a lightbulb above Lotor’s head. He’d really messed up this time, hadn’t he? The way Lotor had looked at him, it was close to how Ryan or Nadia had, back at the hospital. When things came together. That same lightbulb now shone above Lotor’s head, though, at least his face wasn’t overcome with pity. Small blessings, I guess.

‘Do you know the names of the stars that make them up?’ When Keith didn’t respond, Lotor elaborated: ‘Orion and Cassiopeia, I mean.’

Looking over at Lotor again, Keith considered him for a second. Lots of why-questions were still floating around his head, but the blond was looking so peaceful, gazing up with wonder, that Keith couldn’t ask them. ‘Yeah. I do.’

Finally, Lotor’s face softened. ‘Teach me?’

For a moment, they stared at each other. One, resolute and steady. The other uncertain but crumbling.

‘Alright.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beach had always been the go-to date setting. If Lance was overwhelmed by stress about his record label, or Keith had become absorbed by running lines, or even when they were in need of a peaceful moment between just the two of them. Standing ankle-deep in the sand, salty water lapping at their knees, and letting a golden blanket of light cover them – it always managed to settle them. Whether nerves had been playing a part or not. They would stay until they had to huddle, shivering, underneath their beach-blanket. And then the stars came out, and they would stay a little while longer. Even if it got cold and Keith’s teeth started chattering so hard Lance would laugh and call him his personal vibrator, because he would always follow up by wrapping his arms around Keith’s shoulders.

And Lance whispered sweet nothings in Keith’s ear. Like “your mullet’s not that bad after all”, or “I can’t believe you get to be with someone with an ass like mine”. And Keith laughed and shoved Lance away, enjoying the way Lance’s eyes crinkled in glee as he, too, rumbled in laughter. But then Lance settled his arm – and the blanket – back over Keith’s shoulders, and Keith, in turn, curled up right there against Lance’s side, head leaning in the crook of Lance’s neck. That’s when Lance got sentimental, like he always did. He went soft, and sweet. And he whispered how much he loved Keith. Or he would say “I can’t wait to be Mr. McClain-Kogane”

Or “You’re so good, making me feel so good.”

Keith’s head snapped up to look at Lance, only it wasn’t him anymore. It was him. And he was grinning, ear to ear, yanking Keith back by the back of his thighs when the latter tried to scramble out of the way. ‘You’re so pretty,’ He purred, climbing between Keith’s legs despite Keith flailing his arms and trying to push him off again. ‘So pretty.’ And he pinned Keith’s wrists to the bed, pressing Keith firmer into the mattress. Leaning so close Keith could feel his breath fanning over his ear, he whispered: ‘Making me feel so good.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jolting, Keith felt his chest constricting, his throat sore. His hands closed around his neck, cause he could feel him throbbing inside and hands squeezed and-

He was screaming. That’s why his throat was hurting. He was sobbing so hard his chest heaved with it, letting out screams with the little bit of air he managed to drag inside his lungs. But it wasn’t enough, there wasn’t enough, he couldn’t breathe and there was something in there and it made him asphyxiate. Looking around frantically, all Keith saw was darkness and vague shapes. It didn’t look like his apartment, so where was he? What had happened? There was no one with him so why was he being choked?

‘Keith?’

Lotor. More sounds, like a headboard banging into the wall.

‘Keith, please open the door.’ The door? Oh, he was knocking, wasn’t he? But how did Lotor know where he was, how did he find him?

Would he know how to breathe?

Scrambling off the bed, Keith hardly remembered to flinch when his knees protested.

‘Are you alright?’ Lotor was sounding frantic now. As soon as Keith managed to unlock the door, one of his hands shaking, the other feeling his throat, Lotor sat down with Keith. His eyes, even in the dark, were big and worried. All traces of sleep had disappeared, making room only for alertness.

When Lotor extended his hand to Keith, the latter wasted no time in taking it.

‘What are the stars of Cassiopeia?’

Keith whined, shaking his head. He knew them, of course he knew them, but what were they?

‘Alpha Cassiopeia, what is it’s name?’

Alpha. It’s… ‘Schedar.’

Lotor nodded, gently squeezing and releasing Keith’s hand. ‘Good! Beta Cassiopeia?’

‘Caph?’ Keith swallowed, trying to see the constellation’s W-shape again.

‘Delta?’

‘Ruchbah’ Keith paused. Cleared his throat. ‘And Segin is epsilon.’

Smiling, Lotor turned Keith’s hand over and started tapping his fingertips into Keith’s palm again. ‘There you go. And what did you tell me about Gamma Cassiopeia?’

Gamma. The star in the middle. ‘Some simply call it gamma. Others Navi. Sometimes Cih.’

‘As a double-u, what is their order, left to right?’

Left to right. Alright. First there was… ‘Segin.’ Then down to… ‘Ruchbah.’ Up again and you found… ‘Navi.’ Back down to… ‘Schedar.’ And finally… ‘Caph.’

Sighing, Keith slumped, the hand on his throat falling into his lap.

Great. Keith hadn’t even lasted a week before he needed Lotor to fix him again. Not even a week. Still, Keith was surprised Lotor would even come to him after knowing what happened. Did he even really know? He seemed to have figured it out, but had he really? What if he, too had drawn the wrong conclusion?

But Lotor didn’t seem like he had. He was just… there. Every time. Ready to listen, whenever Keith wanted to talk.

‘He spiked my drink.’ Keith ground out. His eyes were closed tightly, not wanting to see Lotor’s face. The other stayed silent. ‘He was my brother’s boyfriend, but they broke up. He spiked my drink, took me to my apartment, and…’ He was already feeling drained, ready to just fall over and stay there. Even through the haze, he hesitated. ‘… he used me. I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t… I tried to stop him. I really did.’ At this, Keith met Lotor’s gaze, pleading for the other to believe him. ‘I tried to stop him.’ Lotor, for once, looked out of sorts. There were too many emotions on his face, yet his mouth opened and closed without a single word. ‘He posted pictures of us, and I didn’t know he even took them, but now my friends believe him and my …’ Ex? ‘… and the entire world. They think I wanted it, but I didn’t.’

For a second, they stared at each other. Keith began to fear he’d made Lotor uncomfortable; that this was finally the thing that made Lotor leave.

Instead, he reached out a hand. Or both. His arms had spread, as if wanting to embrace Keith, but he didn’t move closer. And Keith stared.

‘W-what?’ Lotor simply raised his brow. If he still felt uncertain at all, Keith couldn’t see it. ‘Are you… going to hug me?’

Lotor shrugged. ‘You can. If you want.’

‘I don’t!’ Keith exploded. Had Lotor not listened to him at all?

‘Alright,’ Lotor conceded, yet his arms stayed raised. ‘My offer still stands. You want me to leave? I can do that. Want to go back to sleep? I’ll take the couch. Anything you want, and I’ll try to make it happen.’

Though his eyes had been burning for a while now, Keith realized with a start that they’d finally started overflowing. Again. Damn it. ‘Why are you like this?’ He hiccupped, wiping his cheeks.

Lotor’s smile was soft. ‘I’d like to think we’re friends.’

The tears flowed faster. ‘I don’t- I can’t. I told you I can’t.’

He nodded. ‘That’s alright. You don’t want to touch? No one’s going to touch you. But look,’ Lotor plucked at the fabric at his chest, before extending his arms again. ‘I’m wearing a sweater. A really soft one at that. So really, you won’t be touching me. Just the sweater.’ When Keith hesitated, wiping his hands over his face again, Lotor continued, even softer. ‘And I won’t be able to see your face. And I won’t talk to anyone about this.’

Falling into the embrace, Keith let the sobs rip from an ache deep within. Ever so gently, cotton-clad arms came to rest around Keith. He clutched the fabric at Lotor’s chest, worrying about how quickly the wet-spot on Lotor’s shoulder grew, but the owner of said spot never said anything. So Keith let himself droop, leaning heavier into the support.

Chapter Text

TW: Excessive use of the f-word, lots of yelling, violence

Chapter eleven

When Keith woke up, for a moment, he just stared at the ceiling. His thoughts had not yet caught up with him, and for once, he felt blissfully empty.

Until he felt his stomach sink.

There was someone arguing, somewhere in the apartment.

‘…kill him!’

Then, gentler: ‘Please quiet down, he’s still sleeping.’

It’s James and Lotor, Keith recognized. He didn’t think he’d ever heard James that agitated.

‘I can’t!’ James exclaimed, ‘I’m just so angry!’ Keith’s stomach tied itself in knots. What had he done this time? Slowly, he got out of bed, resting his hand on the doorknob to go out and apologize.

‘There are more urgent things at hand; think about how Keith’s feeling right now.’

‘That’s why I’m so mad!’ So Keith was right: it was about him. ‘All this time, I thought he’s just… but what he did…’ Keith’s eyes fell shut, his forehead bumping into the door. So this was it. James knew about what happened, and he was livid. He wanted to hurt him too, just like all of those people on social media. Keith should probably head out there and reassure James that Keith could be moved out by noon, probably sooner if James really didn’t want to look at someone so pathetic any longer. Maybe Lotor could take him in, until he found something else? Or had Lotor changed his mind about him? No, he still sounded so supportive.

‘Please, James, you’ll wake Keith!’

Keith opened the door, padding into the living room quietly. Still, the other two boys fell silent and looked over when he approached. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, Keith clutched it tightly. ‘So, uhm, you heard?’

When Keith looked up, Lotor smiled encouragingly before walking to the kitchen, while James merely stared with big eyes. It was the latter who Keith had addressed, and so he was the one who stuttered his reply. ‘U-uh yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t really help it? I heard you having a nightmare again so I got Lotor and he sprinted right over and I just wanted to check if it was going alright and then…’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’

Huh, he was awfully nice for someone who wanted him out of the apartment. Though, maybe the apologizing was because he couldn’t have someone like Keith living with him but he was just too nice to say it outright.

Lotor chose that moment to come back, handing Keith a mug of coffee and pushing him into the armchair, before taking the other two over to the couch for James and himself. As Keith muttered a small thank you, he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his hands around the mug.

Keith nodded at James. ‘That’s okay. Just… don’t tell anyone? I think I can be out by noon, though I’d have to check where to go obviously, but I can probably be out sooner if you’d want…’

‘Out?’ James interrupted, eyebrows drawn. ‘What are you talking about?’

It was Keith’s turn to frown as he blew on his hot drink. ‘I just- I figured… You’ve been yelling?’

‘Not at you!’ James exclaimed, Lotor watching the two silently. ‘For you! I’m livid for you! What that bastard did to you…’ His jaw tightened, before he shook it off. ‘Stay here. I mean- you can stay. Here. If you want to. Please.’

Staring, Keith almost forgot about the cup in his hands. When he didn’t react, James put his own mug down before going over to the armchair and crouching in front of it. ‘I’m not angry with you. Quite the opposite, I really enjoy having you around.’

Piping up from the couch, Lotor added a soft: ‘Same goes for me.’

‘I was angry because someone hurt you, and about those people on social media, and those “friends” of yours…’ James shook his head with a scowl. ‘Well, fuck them!’ Though Keith felt a spike of indignation, at the same time, he felt strangely soothed. ‘The thing is,’ James continued, calmer. ‘We’re here for you. Lotor, me, Ryan- wait, does Ryan know?’ Keith nodded. ‘Good. So you have us, and we’re here for you. And we’re not going to leave. You hear me?’

Keith forced the sip of coffee past the blockade in his throat, refusing to let his eyes water again. He wanted to believe James so bad. And it seemed like he really meant it, his eyes determined and his jaw set. He felt warmth spreading through his body at James’s unwavering gaze.

Slowly, Keith reached out his hand, palm up. Upon seeing the gesture, he grinned wide and clasped Keith’s smaller hand in his.

Immediately, James looked over at Lotor, whisper-yelling: ‘He’s letting me touch him! Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.’ He turned back to look at Keith, who was watching with an amused smirk of his own. ‘Be cool, James, be cool.’ He psyched himself. But when his gaze met Keith’s again, he was still giddy. ‘I gotta ask. Your reactions to me, they weren’t because I was creeping you out?’

‘James!’ Lotor exclaimed, muttering something about sensitivity.

‘What?’ James squawked, ‘I thought it was me!’ Trying to hide his smile behind his mug, Keith squeezed the hand in his. When he shook his head, James deflated in relief, pinning him with a giant grin. ‘So, how about lunch. Lotor, you in?’ A short, affirmative sound. ‘Good. Keith, you can choose.’

‘Don’t you have work?’ Keith asked, setting the now-empty mug on the coffee table.

James merely shrugged. ‘Nah, called in sick. You’re more important.’

Keith’s eyes widened. ‘But…!’

‘No butts!’ James mouth quirked, as Lotor rolled his eyes. ‘So, what’ll it be?’

Biting his lip, an idea popped into Keith’s head. ‘I don’t know if you’d like it, but… could I… maybe make Japchae?’

Squeezing Keith’s hand one last time before letting go, James got up and went to grab his keys. ‘I have no idea what that is, but let’s do it. Send me the ingredients and I’ll go get them, alright?’

He was out the door as soon as he heard Keith’s assent.

Lotor shrugged at Keith’s astonished expression. ‘He’s… something.’ As if that would explain it. He was right though, Keith guessed. ‘So…’ Lotor trailed off, leaning forward from his spot on the couch. Automatically, Keith lowered his cup and zoned in on the expression on Lotor’s face. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. ‘Did it help?’ Keith blinked at him. Did it help… the coffee? Having James go get ingredients for him to cook with? ‘The hugging?’

Oh! Keith nodded shyly. ‘Yeah I… really needed that, thank you.’ Though his cheeks were burning, Keith made it a point to not look away from Lotor’s inquisitive gaze. Should he say more – offer more? Reach out, sit with him on the couch?

‘And talking about the constellations?’

That drew an immediate smile from Keith. ‘I can’t believe you remembered all of it, to be honest. But yeah, that was nice, too.’

Lotor grinned back. ‘I’m a fan of space, but I never took the time to learn the names of the stars in each constellation. So thank you for teaching me.’ Getting up, Lotor gathered all three mugs, which were now empty, straightening up and ready to bring them back into the kitchen. ‘Now, you could really use this time to take a shower. Your hair’s a bird’s nest.’

Hands flying up to his head, Keith spluttered in indignation. Though, Lotor seemed to be right. Still, before Lotor could reach the kitchen, Keith followed after him and called his name. Very unsure, but somehow also resolute, Keith curled his arms around Lotor’s waist and rested his head against the other’s chest. Startled, Lotor stood there with his arms raised for probably a bit too long, before regaining back the ability to function and carefully hugging the shorter boy back.

‘Thank you,’ Keith mumbled into Lotor’s sweater. The other smiled, and rested his chin on top of the bird’s nest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘That was awesome!’ James exclaimed, putting his chop-sticks down next to his empty plate. ‘Literally the best Korean I’ve ever had!’

‘Isn’t this also the first time you’ve had Korean food?’ Lotor asked, though James pretended not to have heard the question. ‘Cause it was true.

Still, Keith smiled. ‘Thank you. You should try Hunk’s though!’ Then, his smile faltered, his shoulders drooping. The other two shared a concerned look.

Resigned, Lotor put down his own chop-sticks as well. ‘I don’t want to pry. Really. But would it be okay to talk to more?’

Having not quite finished, Keith found himself unwilling to bring himself to answer. Instead, he swirled his chop-sticks through the remainder of the noodles and vegetables on his plate. ‘There’s nothing to talk about. I messed up, the world hates me. That’s it.’

‘You didn’t mess up!’ James immediately intervened. Keith tried his best to smile, but it was watered down and clearly forced.

‘He’s right, you know?’ Lotor tried. ‘You’re in a messy situation, but none of that is your fault.’

Keith scoffed. ‘People keep saying that, but there must have been something. My friends aren’t talking to me – there must have been something I did wrong to have them… give up. So easily.’

Once again, James and Lotor shared a look. James looked listless, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

‘If you don’t mind me asking…’ Lotor’s inquiry peeked Keith’s interest, though he didn’t remove his gaze from his uneaten portion of food. ‘Why are you not angry?’

At that, Keith did look up, forming his most eloquent sentence so far: ‘Huh?’

Lotor steeled himself. ‘Without sounding pretentious – if I were in your place, I’d be seething.’

Keith shrugged, which made the other two share a glance again. ‘There’s no use. Sure it sucks and I guess I’m a little angry, but I’d only be mean to you guys and you’ve done nothing to deserve that.’ The words that went unspoken – the fear of his new safety net leaving as well – was concealed very well.

But Lotor was nothing if not a clever bastard, and so, he saw right through it. ‘You know we would never hold it against you, right? You deserve to get angry, we would never leave-’

Eyes wide in realization, James cut in: ‘So you’re holding back because you think we’d be offended?’

‘No!’ Keith exclaimed, but then changed his mind immediately. ‘Yes! I mean…’ He took a second to breathe and think. ‘Look, I can’t do anything about it anyway. I can’t work through this as long as… well, as long as I’m like this.’

Softly, almost like it wasn’t meant to be heard, James whispered: ‘Like what?’

A bit choppy, as if frustrated, Keith gestured at himself. ‘My body isn’t exactly in any shape to work through the anger. I can’t just beat something up to cool down, so it’s better not to think about it so I don’t get worked up in the first place, right?’

This time, it was Lotor’s turn to voice his confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

Huffing, Keith finally put down his chop-sticks, pushing his plate farther away from him. ‘I’d usually go kickboxing or running, or something, to clear my head. But I can’t do that like this.’ Once again, he gestured to himself, taking Lotor and James’s gazes on a tour past his still fragile thumb, the sensitive ribs, and questionably steady ankle.

‘Catharsis? That works for you?’

Keith turned to Lotor in question. ‘What?’

‘Living out your anger, letting go by exhausting yourself?’

Instead of immediately confirming or denying, Keith took a second. That did seem to be what it was, didn’t it? ‘I guess?’ He considered, neither convincing himself nor the two men across from him. ‘If you put it like that. But I can’t do that now, so why bother trying? Maybe when I’m healed, but…’ And he trailed off, turning to gaze out of the living room window, just visible from his seat in the kitchen.

The three men sat in silence for a while, contemplating, until James jumped up and out of his chair, startling not just Keith, but Lotor as well. ‘I might have a solution.’

‘Huh?’ Asked both of the others.

James turned to the man next to him, a maniacal grin taking over his entire face. It’s a bit creepy,  Keith thought, but in an endearing way. ‘You still got that box in the basement?’

Lotor’s eyebrows did that thing where they nearly disappeared into his hairline again. ‘Very specific. What box?’

‘You know,’ James drawled, twisting his hands impatiently. ‘The box. Ya know, with the very ugly, utterly hideous-‘

Lotor’s bright eyes sparkled. ‘Oh! That box! I do!’ A knowing gleam took over his face, leaving Keith alone in Confusion-Town.

Which James took note of, when he turned to his roommate. ‘I might have an idea to help you. You in?’

Unsure what to say, Keith blinked rapidly. What the hell are they talking about? A box? What does a box have to do with catharsis? He was very inclined to just say “Fuck no” and go back to his room to cuddle his hippo, but James looked so excited, and Lotor also seemed on board now.

Still, he was apprehensive. ‘What box?’

‘Just some old junk.’ Lotor reassured, before grinning at James. ‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking… That’s genius.’

The self-righteousness that took over James’s features reminded Keith of someone else, though James didn’t wear it nearly as well. ‘Why do you sound so surprised?’ Softening, he turned back to face Keith. ‘So? Will you let us help?’

Still, he hesitated. ‘Help with what?’

Lotor’s hand on his startled Keith, but not enough to pull back. ‘If I got him right,’ Lotor called Keith’s attention back to him. ‘It’ll help you with “venting”.’

Alternating his gaze between the two men across from him, Keith desperately wished he had a clue of what they meant. ‘But what do you mean?’

‘It’s a surprise!’ James exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. As Keith was seeking to meet Lotor’s eyes, the latter pulled a “what can you do”-face. ‘It’s time for a field trip!’

‘No.’ Came the immediate answer. James deflated, but Lotor met Keith’s defiant gaze with his own resolute one. ‘I can’t go outside,’ Keith clarified. ‘If someone recognizes me… I can’t risk that.’

Inflating himself right back, James ran off to his room without a word, only taking a few seconds before he came right back and smashed some accessories on the table with a bit too much force. ‘Here.’ Unsure, Keith plucked the beanie and sunglasses off the table. ‘It’s a disguise. You’ve been here for five weeks now, and, no offense, but you don’t exactly look like you used to anymore.

Mustering the strength to tear his gaze away from the reflection in the glasses, Keith realized full well just how indignant he sounded. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well,’

James peeked awkwardly to Lotor, who sighed, but took it upon himself to explain James’s rash words. ‘It’s just… you look different from how you looked in your movies. You’ve lost some muscle, making you a bit smaller than before, and your hair is longer,’

‘You really need a cut by the way,’ James interrupted, but he wilted as soon as Lotor shot him a venomous look.

‘Seriously, you look very different, and who would expect you here anyway?’

Falling silent, Keith considered the idea, looking at the beanie in his hand and his reflection in the glasses, tracing the locks that used to be his bangs.

Still, and above all, Keith wanted.

And so… ‘Alright.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A “fieldtrip” apparently meant going to an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. Still, Keith was relieved to find that it was in the opposite direction of his old apartment. Truly, who would even think to look for him here?

They found a relatively empty room, where Lotor finally set the box back down. Curious, Keith bent over it to see what was inside, both surprised and confused to find porcelain plates. Just… dinner plates. With awfully bright floral designs.

Hesitant, Keith looked up at Lotor. Opening his mouth to ask something, he realized he didn’t quite know what. Through it all, Lotor looked at him serenely, balanced beautifully by the widely – and slightly maniacally – grinning James behind him.

‘They’re…’ Definitely not beautiful. ‘… plates?’ Keith settled on finally, when it appeared that neither Lotor nor James would enlighten Keith as to why they’re in an old building with the most peppy plates Keith had ever seen.

Finally, Lotor grinned as well. They made quite the pair, Lotor and James, just standing there and… grinning. ‘We’re going to smash them.’

James whooped at the same time that Keith asked “What?”

Picking one of the hideous circles out of the box, Lotor tapped it gently into his palm. ‘You need to release some anger. I have all of these, honestly, repulsive things I have no use for.’

‘Won’t you feel bad about breaking them?’ Keith asked, holding one of the fragile plates in his hands himself.

‘Nah,’ Lotor shrugged, ‘they were my parents’, but it’s not like they could take them with them to the afterlife or whatever. And I don’t know why they would want to.’

‘Oh,’ Keith paused, letting the implication sink in, pausing where he’d awkwardly tried to slide the plate back with the others. ‘I’m sorry.’ He hated it when people said it to him, but he didn’t know what else to say either.

Lotor looked over and smiled. ‘Don’t be.’ He looked down at the plate in his hands, scrunching his nose at the designs on it. ‘These are ugly as fuck. We’ll be doing the world a favor.’ Both Keith and James laughed at that. ‘Besides,’ The smile faltered. ‘I told you I used to have panic attacks too. They… weren’t exactly grade A parents.’

Keith hummed. ‘I can relate to that.’

‘So your parents were assholes too?’ James piped up from where he’d crouched next to the box.

A smile tugged at Keith’s lips. ‘Some of them.’ Both other boys’ eyebrows rose.

James’s mouth opened, though it took a while for him to force the words out. ‘Some of them?’ He asked hesitantly, like it was something he wasn’t allowed to mention.

Keith huffed out a laugh, though it was anything but amused. ‘You really don’t give a shit about gossip, huh?’ James looked over at Lotor, uncertain, the latter shrugging his shoulders in response. ‘I’m an orphan. That fact was mentioned in interviews and articles more often than I could care to remember.’ His expression softened. ‘The Shiroganes eventually adopted me, and they’re the best parents I could have hoped for.’ The typical Keith-frown slid back in place. ‘That’s why I can’t talk to them anymore.’

‘What do you mean?’ Lotor asked softly.

‘I used to be a disappointment to the people who fostered me. Got into too much trouble, was too angry, had too many walls built up. You name it. People wanted a cute child they could save, not a kid with anger-issues who trusted people as far as he could throw them. When it became clear I wasn’t an easy child, they would send me back.’

The frown gently evened out again. ‘But the Shiroganes were different. They cared about me, not their image as a “perfect family”. They never gave up on me, and I couldn’t help but open up. Eventually. They became family. They wanted to officially adopt me. And with everyone else- or well,’ He shot a soft smile at James and Lotor, ‘Almost everyone else being disappointed in me…’ Keith crossed his arms, his gaze falling to the floor.  ‘Maybe they heard about what people think happened on the news, or maybe Shiro talked to them. They’d think I’m a failure. And they haven’t contacted me, so they must believe Shiro, right? And I can’t find out if that’s happened, cause if it has, they will be so disappointed in me, and I couldn’t bear being a disappointment to them, too.’

‘Don’t you think they’d understand everything is just a misunderstanding?’ James offered, hopeful.

Though Keith appreciated the sentiment, it also made something ugly coil in his stomach. He scoffed. ‘Just a misunderstanding. Right. I just tell them and that’ll make everything okay again, right? Water under the bridge and be done with it?’

‘That’s not what I-’

‘Here,’ Lotor interrupted James, handing Keith the plate he was holding. ‘Let it all out.’

Though Keith could feel the spite bubbling up inside him, he still hesitated as he took the plate. So fragile. Completely at his mercy. What had it done to deserve this fate? ‘Are you sure?’

Lotor grinned. ‘Come on, Darling, let’s vent.’

Resolute now, Keith turned to the other way, making sure the soon-to-be-formed shards wouldn’t get close to the other two.

And his mind blanked. He couldn’t be mad at his parents. They’d taken him in when no one else would. They may not even know what happened.

‘What’re you thinking?’ Lotor prompted from behind him.

‘I just…’ Keith trailed off, twisting the plate around and around. ‘I don’t know what to think.’

‘You mentioned Shiro,’ James piped up, ‘Who is he?’

‘He’s my brother,’ Keith automatically answered. ‘He’s my brother, and I love him. He’s been there for me for forever… but… He told me I’m dead to him. I needed him, but he blocked me without talking to me. Just… completely shut me out.’ Honestly, Keith was so sick of it. So sick of the lump in his throat, or the pounding headache, but especially the burning in his eyes. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to not be so pathetic all the time, he wanted to feel in control again. He wanted his brother back.

SMASH!

The porcelain shards slid across the floor, a million little pieces of broken flowers scattering and fracturing and dividing.

‘Fuck him!’ Keith accepted the new plate Lotor wordlessly offered. ‘Fuck him! He’s my big brother and he dropped me like it was nothing!’

SMASH!

‘It was his boyfriend, who he brought into my life! He should have talked to me, he should believe me.’

SMASH!

‘“Oh, look at me, I’m Shiro. I’m the perfect son, the perfect man. I’m such a great judge of character, and I inspire people” Oh yeah? Well great fucking choice in men! But no, I’ve always been the black sheep in the family, always been the fuck-up. Of course I would act out! What gave him the right to kick me out when I needed my big brother the most? I need him to be there for me and he’s just gone!’

SMASH!

‘I would have let him talk to me if there were rumors about him fucking my boyfriend! But he went and turned into a condescending asshole as soon as things went South! He should have known better but of course he’s Shiro and he’s always right and he’s just perfect.’

SMASH!

‘Same goes for Pidge! They’re supposed to be the smart one! Maybe that’s the problem – they’re so used to being right about everything they won’t stop for a second to fucking think! To even consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, they don’t know everything!’

SMASH!

‘I’ve known them for years. Years! And they believe I’d just go and fuck my brother’s ex on a whim? And kick my butt when I try to set things right? Just publicly rub in the fact that I’m a huge fucking dumbass who only knows how to mess things up? Who the everloving fuck do they think they are? They’re supposed to be my friend! Who do you think defended them when people kept bullying them for being a nerd? Who helped them when they were bullied for being non-binary? Me, that’s who! Because I’m their friend!’

SMASH!

‘Or Hunk, even Hunk! Our dear Sunshine Boy. “I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt” my ass! How the fuck am I supposed to go brunching when I was at the hospital? But nooo, go on and block me too. Far easier than dealing with the fact that something…’

SMASH!

‘… might have…’

SMASH!

‘… happened! Sure, he’s Lance’s best friend, but I thought he liked me too! Always so sweet, always telling people he’d be there when they’d need him, always willing to listen and hug things out. But when it comes down to it, he’s just as bad as everybody else! Fucking hypocrite!’

SMASH!

‘Allura I can almost understand. “Holier than thou Allura”, growing up with a silver spoon shoved up her ass, wouldn’t touch dirt if it was thrown at her!’

SMASH!

‘Sorry for being the dirt underneath your shoe, Princess! Stuck in her sweet little world, where nothing bad ever happens! I can picture her, belittling me for being just another perv who can’t keep it in his pants! And yeah, I guess I couldn’t, because I…’

SMASH!

‘… wasn’t…’

SMASH!

‘… given…’

SMASH!

‘… a fucking choice!’

SMASH!

Reaching for the next plate out of the steady supply coming from the side, Keith took it, and promptly dropped it, envisioning those ocean eyes that frequently occupied his thoughts. He watched the scattered remains, feeling himself start to shake. He was tearing up again. Fucking Damnit.

He propelled the next plate towards the faraway wall without a word. And the next. And the two after that. When Lotor’s hands remained empty, Keith simply stared.

‘Lance…’ He finally started, after the ringing silence stretched too long. ‘He was the one who told me to have that last drink with him. He was the one who left me alone at the bar with him. He ignored me too. I should be mad at him. I should be so fucking angry at him, but I can’t. ‘ Finally, his pain overflowed, running down his cheeks.

Keith let it.

Slowly, Lotor approached him and spread his arms. This time, Keith didn’t hesitate to step into the space between them, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist and burying his face in the broad shoulders in front of him. ‘I love him,’ He mumbled into the soft fabric of Lotor’s coat. ‘I love him so much. And he loved me back, I know he did. We talked about moving in together, and getting a dog, and getting married for God’s sake! How could he think I’d cheat on him?’

Slowly, James approached the two as well. ‘Could I… would it be okay for me to join in too?’

Keith looked up at him, briefly. Not being able to contain himself, he couldn’t help but laugh, even if the tears didn’t stop coming, and nodded. Gently and oh so carefully, James put his hand on Keith’s back, before sliding it further and taking both Keith and Lotor into his arms.

He didn’t know how long they stayed there like that, but when they finally separated, the sun was beginning to set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After saving the world from having to live with the atrocity Lotor’s parents called plates, things were okay. Keith felt relieved, for a little bit. The rest of the day went by peacefully, and so did dinner with James. He’d been given lots of tea with honey, to soothe his throat, but Keith kind of liked it sweet like that anyways. This was a good day, Keith thought, even though he’d spent a big part of it angry and crying.

And it had been.

It was good. Until it wasn’t.

James had already gone to sleep, but Keith was still awake and on his phone, as usual. Though, unlike other times, he was simply looking at a time loop video, comparing the dog on its owner’s stomach when it was a puppy vs now. And it was adorable. It was cute! It was – interrupted when a trending post took over his entire feed.

And the day wasn’t good anymore.

Lance had released a song. A soft, gentle-sounding, pain filled song. Just him and his guitar, hoarse voice filled with the emotions that were mirrored on his face. It was quite beautiful. Shatteringly so.

Thousands of comments were flooding in, most of them encouragements of Lance’s talents. A substantial group was talking about how it reminded them of past experience of a bad breakup that made them lose faith in true love as well. Because that’s what Lance was singing about. A failed love. Betrayal. Hurt.

The last group of comments were saying exactly what Keith had already realized: this song was about him. Keith was the one who instilled this hurt in Lance, this insecurity.

@pidgeshouseplants
I’M LITERALLY CRYING LANCE WTF

Yeah, same. Keith thought, wiping his hand underneath his eyes. Clutching his phone tightly in his hand, he got up from his bed and quietly left the apartment. It only took a few seconds for the door across the hall to open after the first series of knocks.

Somewhere, Keith realized he should feel guilty for probably waking Lotor, even though he still somehow looked perfect with his sleep-ruffled hair, rubbing his eye tiredly. Annoyingly perfect. Like Allura.

His heart feeling even heavier, his eyes watery yet not overflowing, Keith wordlessly clicked play again, and thrust the phone at Lotor. To his credit, the taller man only frowned in confusion, before motioning for Keith to come inside and walking to his couch, Keith’s phone close to his face.

When the song was over, Lotor watched Keith with an infuriatingly empathetic understanding.

Still, Keith ground out: ‘I did that to him.’

‘No, you didn’t do anything-‘

‘Yes I did!’ The tears finally overflowing, the dark-haired boy sprang from the couch and grabbed his phone back. The screen was black, but that didn’t mean he could still see that expression on Lance’s face. He didn’t think he could ever forget that. ‘I did. I shouldn’t have joined him at the bar. I shouldn’t have accepted the drink, I should’ve fought harder, called for someone,’

‘Keith-’

‘Or maybe I shouldn’t have been there at all!’

He didn’t know what he even meant by that. There were so many ways that could be interpreted, and Keith had no clue which of them he’d intended to say.

Yet Lotor looked stricken. ‘You can’t mean-’ Keith waited for Lotor to finish that sentence, to tell Keith what he meant because he didn’t know and Lotor seemed to know what was going through Keith’s head at any given time. Lotor was magical, he’d know. He had to know.

But Lotor stayed silent, watching Keith. And Keith steeled himself, his jaw set. ‘Never mind.’

Lotor reached out for Keith, and though he initially wanted to just go back to his room, Keith gave in and clasped Lotor’s hand in his. The thought of getting closer to him and accepting an embrace crossed Keith’s mind, but with the way his shirt already seemed like sandpaper on his skin, he settled for gritting his teeth through the jabs of Lotor’s fingers.

‘You didn’t do anything, Keith.’ Lotor whispered, pulling Keith closer by the hand. ‘In Lance’s truth, you did hurt him, and that pain is valid, but you mustn’t let that drown you. You didn’t do anything. He just doesn’t know that yet.’

I tried to tell him, One part of Keith’s brain supplied.

It’s still my fault. The other whispered.

Keith watched the way Lotor’s fingers moved, lightly tapping against the back of his hand, and felt the guilt sink in. Lotor was right. Lance didn’t know what happened, so Keith could be angry all he wanted, but Lance still thought Keith cheated on him. He was still hurt by it, and probably angry himself. It was justified, Keith guessed, even though it wasn’t the truth. Because it was Lance’s truth.

When Lotor offered Keith another cup of tea, Keith refused, voice hoarse as he feigned a smile and voiced his desire to go to sleep. Lotor cupped Keith’s cheek and smiled. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’

Keith’s expression softened genuinely, even though the words the taller man said next didn’t fully register. The two parted with a soft “goodnight”, Lotor’s door closing with a resounding click.

But Keith was far from tired. At least, he wasn’t tired in a way sleep could fix. Instead of going back to bed, he therefore turned to the elevator. He didn’t have the same “disguise” with him as earlier in the day, but he figured it was dark and quiet out anyway. And Lotor and James were right, Keith didn’t look like himself. He was in a city he’d never been known to be in as well, so Keith figured it would be alright. It was just a short walk to clear his head, after all, so he could go to sleep like he said he would.

Only the short walk didn’t end up staying a short walk. Keith ended up at the beach he and Lance used to frequent, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped securely around himself. There was a group of people further down the beach, warming themselves around a campfire and laughing into their bottles of beer.

But they hadn’t paid Keith any mind, and so Keith gladly returned the favor. He took the time to look up at the sky, tracing over Segin and Ruchbah to Caph and back. Visiting Castor and Pollux, then down to Betelgeuse and Rigel, bright as ever. He was just beginning to follow down the belt of Orion when the jeers of the teenagers came closer. Looking down in disdain, he was about to bolt, when the swerving boy called out a “Hey, you got a lighter?”

The other two guys followed behind, laughing at the first, while two girls prodded their campfire to try and save it from where it was starting to die.

‘No, sorry.’ Was the answer, though Keith had much rather wanted to walk away and ignore them. He got up and dusted off his pants as if he was done here, instead of getting uncomfortable with how close the guys were getting. He’d expected them to lay off after disappointing them, but they staggered closer anyway.

‘Hey,’ The same guy called out when Keith started to walk away. ‘Why’re you leaving man? Come join us, we have beer and stuff!’

Grimacing, Keith could smell exactly what the “stuff” was. He was just thankful they didn’t try using the strong liquor to see if that would revive their pitiful fire. ‘No, thank you.’ He muttered, the sound scratching as it climbed up his throat.

‘Come on, he’s not worth it anyway.’ One of the followers said, and honestly, Keith would take the insult if that meant getting some peace and quiet.

‘No, wait,’ The first said, considering Keith in the dim light of a faraway lantern post, his brown eyes squinting as if just the act of thinking was giving him a headache. ‘Isn’t that the guy Trisha’s been raving about?’

Oh no,

‘No, yeah,’ The second spoke up, a grin spreading over his stupid alcohol-flushed face. ‘He’s that guy from the scandal, the one she was so pissed about?’

For tipsy-to-drunk guys, they were surprisingly well-coordinated. Realizing they meant trouble, Keith finally listened to his gut and bolted, but his legs were not used to this kind of thing anymore and those guys were young and uncaring, so they easily grabbed onto him. Thrashing, Keith tried to pull himself free, his heartrate spiking as the boys started dragging Keith towards where the girls now watched with interest.

‘Weren’t you complaining about this guy breaking your crush’s heart?’ The flushed guy said, wheezing as he struggled to hold on to Keith’s arm.

The redhead’s eyes widened comically. ‘That’s him!’ Immediately, a scowl took over her face. ‘You fucking asshole, how dare you hurt Lance like that, what has he ever done to you?’

Currently, though, Keith was unable to answer that question, his frenzied panting caused by the fact that apparently the guys had decided Keith standing was too much trouble, and pinned him to the ground. The other girl, who was wearing a leather-jacket way too thin for this weather, sat down on his hand, while the flushed guy pinned the other. The guy with the brown eyes, who’d originally approached him, sat on his legs with a wolfish grin.

‘What,’ He goaded, ‘Not so tough now? Heard you fucked your brother’s ex. How cold!’

‘Yeah,’ Another sneered, though Keith didn’t know which one. ‘He’s your fucking brother! How could you do that to him!’

‘You’re freaking disgusting,’ That was a girl’s voice, Keith was at least sure of that. ‘Your brother’s ex! And poor Lance, what the fuck is wrong with you?’

The pressure on Keith’s wrists increased, and the sand felt an awful lot like a mattress.

‘Not again, please,’ He whispered, the stars barely visible over the angry faces looming over him. He wasn’t even sure if he’d actually said something, he couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears.

‘Answer her!’ The boy with the brown eyes screamed, shaking Keith’s shoulders, and Keith burned. The fabric on his skin was too tight and grating and dragging over him in slow, methodological rocking.

‘Let him go,’ Came a whisper, ‘There’s something wrong.’

But it went ignored. When Keith managed to focus on what’s in front of him, he wished he didn’t have to look at that maniacal grin. ‘Such a pretty boy,’ He crooned, ‘So easy for you to find replacements when you’re done with people.’

Soprettylikethisyou’rebeingsogoodtome

Wheezing, Keith struggled to get out, he couldn’t do nothing again he had to get out.

‘Too bad your face won’t stay pretty for long.’

A cacophony of noises broke out, the redhead and the third guy protesting, the leather-jacket girl cheering, the flushed guy whooping, the brown eyed boy on top of him reaching out to take a smoldering piece of wood from the remains of the campfire.

Keith’s eyes fixated on it as it was dangled above his face, swallowing as he settled down. That thing – that would burn him. This guy could even take out his eye with that thing.

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

Was he going to set his hair on fire? Blind him?

Why can’t I ever just stay at home?

‘Come on, dude, this is going to far!’ The third guy, the sensible guy, tried to reason.

‘Would you relax?’ The flushed guy said, looking behind him at the sensible guy.

‘Seriously, this isn’t funny,’ The redhead said.

The boy holding the log laughed, swaying a little as he pointed the wood at the girl. ‘Don’t worry ‘bout it, I got this!’

‘You’re drunk,’ Go redhead.

Keith really did not like the way that wood swung close to his face when the guy on top of him adjusted himself. ‘You’re a pussy. Isn’t this what you wanted?’

‘No!’ The redhead exclaimed, while the leather girl and flushed guy both cheered and screamed “yes!’

The boy on top of Keith grinned, clutching Keith’s chin in his dirty fingers with one hand, tauntingly waving the wood with his other. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do too much to you. Just… Showing people how ruined you actually are.’

At the verge of hyperventilating, Keith shook and stared and tried not to cry again. He flexed his fingers, but was still pinned. He didn’t dare move his hips, the weight on top of him crushing. On top of that, he didn’t want to risk the other moving over him.

A glint of movement was all the warning Keith got, his eyes frantically moving anyway. The sensible guy, though, Keith would come to reconsider this, reached out for the brown eyed guy on top of Keith. Somewhere, Keith was sure the semi-sensible guy was just trying to pull the other off of Keith, but why, why couldn’t he have first secured the piece of scorching wood?

Brown-eyed boy pulled himself free of the pulling grip, and from then on, Keith saw everything in slow motion, it seemed. How brown-eyed boy swayed on top of him, the wood swinging around. How he fell forward, hands shooting outwards to try and catch himself. How the piece of wood, still red hot, approached and did not stop.

All Keith could do, with his hands still pinned, was turn his head, and hope he would still be able to see by the end of this.

Chapter Text

CW: Discussion of injury (non-explicit); self-deprecating thoughts

Chapter twelve

‘I shouldn’t have posted the song.’ Pacing up and down the room, Lance rubbed his hand down his face, before sliding it up and gripping his hair. Again.

Shiro sat on the couch, watching it all on repeat. ‘Why not?’ Lately, Shiro and Lance had been bonding quite a bit, with the whole our-boyfriends-suck-thing they had going. A beautiful friendship blossoming forth from the soils of betrayal. Truly nurturing.

‘The views have skyrocketed. The label will want me to record a studio version and put it on an album and sell it and make money off of it but that’s not what I wanted it to be.’ Groaning, Lance theatrically dropped himself next to Shiro. ‘It was supposed to just be an outlet. Now they’re gonna want me to make money off of it and that’s not what I want.’

‘Why not?’ Shiro repeated, sounding genuinely curious instead of accusing. ‘It’s a beautiful song.’

Leaning his chin in his hand, Lance groaned. ‘It’s too personal! Like, I know I wrote about personal experiences before, but this… it was a way to deal with what happened, something to put my energy into, my feelings into when I didn’t know what else to do with them.’ He turned his head to face Shiro, figuring that would be more interesting than his ceiling. Though, that one darkened spot from The Great Cooking Mishap is pretty neat. ‘I didn’t do it for the money, or the publicity. I did it for me.’ Frowning in consideration, Shiro nodded gently, though Lance could see the lack of recognition. A new thought flitted through the clutter that was Lance’s mind, making the owner groan. ‘Besides, Keith will surely see it-‘

‘So what?’ Shiro demanded. The thoughtful frown from before had now dropped into an all too familiar scowl. ‘He hurt you and you’re allowed to express that in any way you want.’ Taking a deep breath, Shiro continued before Lance could protest to the last statement. Because even if he was hurt, there’s no “any way you want”. There’s still a line. ‘Look. Music is your thing. You’ve been brewing and pouting for, like, over a month.’ Finally catching Lance’s eye, Shiro gave an encouraging smile. ‘You’ve been bottling it up all along. It was about time you let it out, and let yourself feel.’ Patting Lance’s knee, his gaze turned sympathetic. ‘You can’t get over him if you’re not letting yourself feel.’

Shrinking back into himself, Lance pouted. ‘I could’ve not posted it though.’

‘You could’ve. Have you seen the comments though? So many people relate to it, or are just happy to see you back in action. You’re even trending! What if your song is helping other people heal?’

It’s true. It had taken days to muster the courage to finally post the song, but when he did, he felt content. Exhausted, sure. Drained? Absolutely. But also happy as a burden seemed to be lifted from his shoulders. The feelings that led to the song still remained, they weren’t that easy to get rid of, but being able to pour all his emotions into the music gave him an outlet. And so many people responded positively. The song was trending, the views and likes soaring. But so did the comments. Most of them were supporting, happy to see Lance, happy to see him processing, happy he was getting back into music. In addition, like Shiro said, people were relating.

However…

Raising his eyebrows in indignation, Lance couldn’t help that his voice rose. ‘Have you seen the comments? Harassing Keith, threatening him, there were even some death-threats!’

Shiro turned bashful. ‘I… haven’t. Seen those, I mean. I’ve been training- but you shouldn’t take those seriously, it’s just people expressing their anger. Nothing more.’

‘Is it?’ Lance fired right back. ‘It’s not just the comments either, Twitter is full of rants and blogposts hating on Keith, who’s to say people won’t take it further?’

Holding out his hands in front of him placatingly, Shiro’s voice dropped lower the more Lance raised his. ‘I know it sounds extreme, but you know how fans can get. And I'm pretty sure your label won't force you to include the song. It'll be alright.

Lance tsk-ed, whipping out his phone. He found the articles he’d been reading before: ‘“Cheating actor replaced by fresh faced newcomer Akira”, “Kogane gone into hiding? What happened since the leak”, “Lewds of Keith Kogane”… Shiro, there are nudes of him on fucking porn sites!’

Shiro hesitated, a guilty look marring his features.

Lance felt the anger boil. ‘You knew! Why did nobody tell me?’

Shiro was quick to jump to his own defence. ‘We agreed not to bother you. You took a break and we... didn't want to bother you with any news about him?

Lance’s stomach dropped. ‘"We?" Who is we?’

‘Well, all of us? Come on Lance, you were in a really bad place and we thought hearing from Keith would make things worse. I didn’t even know you were back on Twitter.’

Scoffing, Lance battled between yelling profanities, and continuing the conversation. He decided on both. Following a litany of bilingual curses, came: ‘It’s not your business whether or not I’m on social media, but I re-downloaded everything when I saw those comments on my song. Wondered if there were more of them.’

Chewing his lip, Shiro was clearly trying to think of what to say. ‘Listen, Keith has been in the business long enough. He knew how much attention is on you guys, never mind the pictures they decided to take and post themselves. If he didn't want fans to react badly, he just shouldn't have cheated.’

A beat. ‘That's harsh of you, Shiro.’

‘It is what it is.’ Like it could be dismissed with a simple shrug. But Lance knew there must be something fake behind that nonchalance, because this was Shiro. There had to be.

‘And you’re sure there’s no extra bitterness because you’re hurt?’

Honestly, Lance felt like applauding himself, feeling brave enough to challenge the Takashi Shirogane like that. But he wasn’t the Takashi Shirogane anymore. After spending weeks with him, drinking themselves stupid and ugly-crying together, all he was, was just… Shiro. Prissy, harsh, but hurt Shiro.

Not that that makes it okay or anything.

‘Of course I am,’ Shiro conceded. ‘I’ve always feared there was something between Evan and Keith, and I was right. Even if they assured me there wasn’t. And then they go ahead and sleep together, right after Evan and I break up, and publicly announce it to the world? How am I supposed to react to that?’

‘I just thought you’d be more… sad. You just seem more angry.’

Shiro smiled weakly. ‘I’m both. Feelings are complicated like that. I wouldn’t be angry if I wasn’t sad, you know?’

‘Yeah…’

The two sat in silence, Shiro handing Lance the beer still on the coffee table. It’d been waiting for him all this time, just sitting there until Lance stopped pacing and ranting.

‘I miss him.’ Like it almost didn’t want to be said. Lance fiddled with the label on the bottle, not daring to lift his gaze. ‘Do you think things will ever be okay again?’

The label ripped. Even though Lance smoothed it back over, it still sat there, torn down and crinkled.

‘I don’t know.’ Not what Lance wanted to hear. He deflated, even though Shiro continued in the same soft tone as before: ‘I miss him too, don’t get me wrong. I miss both of them. But I can’t forget what they did. I still see it, imagining what they must’ve been doing, anytime I think about either of them, and I can’t…’ Shiro huffed. ‘I’m not sure how I’d react if I ran into them.’ Picking at a loose piece op skin on his lip with his teeth, Shiro stared into nothing, his eyebrows dipping together. ‘I’m not proud of it, but I’m just so… angry. At both of them. All the time. But that’s okay, right? It’s one of the stages of grief after all, and it means I care about what happened. Besides, it’s not like they didn’t hurt both of us. I mean, technically, Evan was in the clear because we’d broken up, but with my brother? Right after the breakup? And Keith wasn’t even single. He consciously cheated. With the boy who I’d still been in a relationship with that day. We deserve to be angry, don’t we?’

With his stomach twisting, Lance stared at the bottle in his hand, his mind full but his mouth unable to find any words. Swiping the leftover condensation was cool though. It was almost like Lance was his own little windshield-wiper. But for beer bottles.

A hand settled on Lance’s knee. ‘Look, you deserve more than a guy who can’t be bothered to stick around. They made us feel like we weren’t good enough, and we – you – deserve more than that. You deserved a proper breakup. You deserved time.’

Lance remembered that conversation. When the whole group met up for Halloween, Shiro and Lance had done a lot of bonding when everyone had already passed out. Lance remembered admitting that feeling of lacking. Struggling with the fact that Keith moved on so quickly.

Lance remembered whispering: “Am I really that easy to get over?”

‘Don’t you sometimes just want to forgive them though?’ He questioned, eventually. ‘Don’t you want things to go back to the way they were?’ When he saw Shiro open his mouth, Lance finally shifted his gaze to land on his companion. ‘Okay, so you broke up with Evan for valid reasons, so maybe don’t undo that, but still. Keith was our friend for so long, and he is your brother.’ He hesitated, rolling the now completely separated label between his fingers, meshing it into a tiny ball before throwing it onto the coffee table. ‘Sometimes I can’t help but think we abandoned him.’

Steady blue met surprised brown eyes. Lance couldn’t help but think that this was probably the first time Shiro would even consider the notion.

‘You really think that?’ Shiro breathed, watching Lance shrug. ‘You have a soft heart.’ His expression hardened. ‘It'd only get you hurt of you contacted Keith. And don't deny it, I know you want to. We've all been hurt and we all want to protect our friends. We’re not the only ones hurt by Keith’s actions – the others were too. He betrayed our trust and... That's just how it is. Actions have consequences.’

For a second, Lance could only stare. It didn’t sit right with him, but it’s true that the entire friend group had been touched by the recent events. ‘Still…’

Shiro clasped Lance’s shoulder, giving him the patented Proud-Dad Smile™. ‘I know you’ll make the right decision.’ The arguments died in Lance’s throat while Shiro’s smile softened. ‘Please, don’t let yourself get hurt.’

Looking down at the now empty beer bottle in his hand, Lance swiped his finger over the clear, smooth glass. He nodded. ‘I’ll try to move on.’ Resolutely, he leaned forward to grab his phone. ‘But I still want to tell the fans off for harassing him! I’ll disable the comment section too, and write in the description that I don’t want that kind of harassment to happen again.’

‘You do you.’ Was the answer, even though Lance was already in the process of unlocking his phone and getting Twitter up and running. ‘It’s your video. But I’m proud of you for taking the high road here.’

However, the younger had halted in his steps, blankly staring at the Twitter notification that had popped up. “Keith Kogane spotted in hospital after attack.”

Confused, Shiro leant over to read what had made Lance falter. Lance could feel the other stiffen. Together, they read the tweet and the link leading to the article, which even had a blurry picture. The picture was clearly taken in a hospital, and without consent, so it seemed. By the looks of it, it was taken quickly through an open door, not yet having been able to focus on the person of attention.

Still, it was clear what it showed.

It was Keith, sitting on a hospital bed all alone, the lower right side of his face covered in gauze.

Lance and Shiro look at each other in shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interns should probably have been doing this. He took an important doctor away from a possibly amazing surgery or whatever the hell it was that Nadia did, all so she could slather some salve onto his cheek.

But she knew. She knew why Keith flinched every time she raised a hand; or that the tensing wasn’t because her touch hurt, but because that touch was there to begin with. She knew why he didn’t want any pain-meds besides the cooling salve and an easy over-the-counter pill, why even the notion of a substance that could make him woozy or lower his inhibitions almost sent him hurtling out of the hospital altogether.

Keith just hoped Dr. Rizavi, given their previous interaction, would not be too mad at him for refusing to let anyone else get near him. Some people would probably chalk it up to him being an entitled brat, so stuck in stardom that he could afford to demand a resident, or whatever Nadia was, to do what surely was the interns’ job and then complain about it, too.

At least she had ties to Ryan, in addition to getting him in a separate room, considering all the gawking and general nosiness.

‘So,’ Nadia started as she prepped some gauzy thing to stick to his face, ‘is there anyone we can call for you?’

If they checked his records, they’d find a certain family member listed as his emergency contact. Keith appreciated that Nadia bothered to ask.

‘My roommate, James, please.’

Closing his eyes tightly, he breathed his way through Nadia covering the wound on his face. He hadn’t seen it, but when Nadia had entered the room, she had halted when her gaze had landed on him. It. Either. She had spent several minutes ranting about the burn reaching too close to his eye for her comfort, but after examining it, she concluded that his eye hadn’t sustained any harm. The fact that his cheek really freaking hurt was apparently a good thing, too. At least his nerves hadn’t been damaged, though it was probably going to scar. Giving him careful instructions on how to keep the wound clean, she then handed him the salve she’d used.

‘I’ll get you some written instructions and a new bottle for you to bring home while I call James, alright?’

Keith nodded his thanks. ‘Yeah. Really, thank you, Nadia, for putting up with me. Again.’

Nadia gently bumped his shoulder, smiling. ‘You owe me all of your movies, signed and with a personal message conveying your love for me.’

Starting to laugh, Keith immediately grimaced when it pulled on his cheek. ‘Ow. Stop being funny, it’s bad for my health.’

Laughing freely, because the doctor didn’t have to worry about a hurt face, Nadia walked towards the door. ‘I can’t help it, it’s just who I am. Anyway, I’ll go take care of things for you, and I’ll let your friend in while I’m gone.’

Frowning, Keith stopped his hand just short of touching the bandage, where it had wanted to go. The added pressure on his face was quite off-putting. ‘My friend?’

Damn, Kogane, way to betray your emotions. Still, he couldn’t help jumping to conclusions. Maybe one of them had seen, maybe they’d changed their mind, maybe they believed-

‘Yeah, the guy who brought you in?’ Nadia closed the door again, her eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Oh.

He didn’t know why… Doesn’t matter anyway. Trying not to visibly deflate, Keith used all of the acting skills he possessed to school his features.

‘He’s still here?’

‘I can send him away? Is he not your friend? Security can be here in a sec.’

Getting himself out of his head, Keith tried to convey a calm-down-you-don’t-need-to-mother-hen-look. ‘You don’t need to do that. He was just passing by when he found me, so I didn’t expect him to stay, is all.’ Minutely, Nadia’s shoulders relaxed as she reached for the door handle once more. ‘I still need to thank him anyway, so sure, he can come in.’

Regarding him skeptically, Nadia narrowed her eyes at him, before deeming him truthful. ‘Alright then, but I’m having someone stay close by just in case.’

Turning around to leave, Nadia didn’t bother sticking around to hear Keith’s stuttered ‘Thank you, Na- Dr. Rizavi!’

Getting comfortable, Keith didn’t have to wait long until the man who’d stopped to help him at the beach walked through the door. He hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, seeing as they were out in the dark and he had been a little preoccupied by different matters, but now, illuminated by the bright hospital light, he found a man not much older than him, looking at him with worry-filled eyes, shadowed by dark bags. Guilt churned in Keith’s gut, wondering what time it was, and how long this guy had stayed for him when he could have been getting the rest he obviously needed.

For a second, the two just stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Then: ‘Thank you, for helping me.’

The man nodded, stepping inside. ‘Are you alright?’ Immediately, Keith’s hand went back up to hover over the bandage. ‘Right. Sorry.’ An awkward silence fell, before the man dropped himself into a chair that was next to the bed Keith was sitting on. ‘I’m Regris, by the way. Unless you just wanna forget about tonight and want me to disappear? Or well, I’d still be Regris, but I guess you wouldn’t wanna know in that case.’

Smiling, Keith relaxed a little. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Regris. I’m Keith.’

‘Oh I know,’ Immediately, Regris’s eyes widened. ‘Not in a weird way! My girlfriend liked your movies so I just- I know who you are? But like I didn’t realize until just now so I didn’t help you because I wanted something from you or anything!’ He paused, then dropped his head in his hands. ‘I’m making this very weird, I’m sorry.’

Trying to stifle a smile, Keith couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘It’s alright. Just nice to see someone who knows who I am without wanting to burn my face off.’ He winced at his own words, glad Regris was only just beginning to look up.

‘Those are simply cowards. I’m sorry they got away.’ Keith answered with a shrug. They couldn’t really do anything about that now, could they? He had no clue who they were, and even considering another police investigation just… made him really tired. Besides, he doubted he would ever see them again. Though he was loath to let them go without repercussions, he knew there wasn’t much he could do about it. He doubted the police could, either.

‘Anyway,’ Regris shook himself out of the downward spiral their conversation had been heading towards. ‘Do you have someone picking you up?’

Crossing his legs underneath him, Keith nodded. ‘Yeah, the doctor said she would have someone call my roommate for me.’

Smiling, Regris deflated. ‘Good. I’d offer you a ride, but I doubt a helmet would do your cheek much good, and I will not let you get on a motorcycle without a helmet.’

His eyes widening, Keith perked up. ‘You ride a motorcycle too?’

Regris mirrored Keith’s enthusiasm. ‘Yeah! You too?’ Keith nodded. ‘You should join us for a ride sometime! My boyfriend and I have been dying to find another person to join us on a tour. You interested?’

Though Keith was sure he’d heard “girlfriend” before, he let the confusion slide for now to focus on the offer. Maybe he’d just heard wrong. ‘I haven’t gone on a ride in forever, I’d love to!’ Guess he’d have to head back to where he used to live to finally pick it up, then. Maybe, if he asked Lotor and James and maybe even Ryan, they could help Keith get to picking up the last of his stuff. Though, that would also mean going outside again, and that hadn’t exactly gone so well for him last time. ‘Or… maybe not…’ All at once, Keith deflated again, not wanting to look at Regris anymore. He couldn’t join him, but he’d already agreed and he’d made Regris look forward to it only to change his mind again. Would he be mad at Keith now?

Unconsciously, Keith had made himself look smaller, until Regris spoke up. His hand hovered awkwardly between them, having seen Keith duck away from him. ‘Hey, it’s alright. I get it if you don’t want to, but just in case… I work at the flower shop on Main, across from the library. Drop by sometime?’ Keeping his eyes down, Keith nodded, though he wasn’t too sure he would. Still, could he really decline this too? ‘Or let me give you my number, maybe that would be easier. Totally cool if you never end up using it.’

Still somewhat reluctant, Keith fished his phone out of his pocket to show Regris that his phone was dead. ‘You could write it down for me?’

Visibly trying to restrain himself from looking too giddy, Regris nodded a bit too enthusiastically and looked around for some pen and paper. Keith would offer his own number, but he wasn’t sure he could trust Regris not to display it everywhere, so he chose the road where he could keep the most control. For now. Everything about Regris screamed “oh my gosh I’m giving my number to a celebrity” except his mouth – greatly appreciated – and it showed in the digits he was given, the lines too deliberate to be considered even close to a quick scrawl. Regris’s nines looked a little like q’s, Keith noted.

‘Keith!’ The two men looked up to see Ryan marching into the room, uniform pristine. There were more folds on his face than his uniform, but Keith guessed worry did that to a person. The officer’s eyes landed on Regris, the latter’s form sagging from excited to a bit less… eager.

‘This is Regris,’ Keith introduced, before Ryan could revert too much into his protective role. ‘He’s the one who helped me get here.’

At once, Ryan’s shoulders relaxed, a gentle smile taking over his face. He extended his hand. ‘Thanks for helping him out, then.’

A bit wide-eyed, Regris accepted the handshake. ‘No problem, sir. I’m just glad I got there before things might have escalated more.’

Looking over at Keith, Ryan’s eyes roved over the bandage on his cheek. ‘I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m guessing the cowards ran?’

Keith nodded. ‘Yeah. Regris kinda lost his cool and went off on them and they ran while he called an ambulance.’

‘What did they look like?’

Shaking his head, Keith’s free cheek pulled his lips into a crooked, sad smile. ‘‘S no use. Didn’t get much on them, so I doubt I could help you find them. Besides, I already have one trial, don’t need another.’

Excitement bleeding through his expression, Ryan didn’t hesitate to jump onto Keith’s statement. ‘You’ve decided to press charges?’

Keith flinched. He hadn’t meant… ‘Oh uhm… I don’t actually... I mean, maybe?’

Regarding him for a second or two, Ryan hesitated, then nodded resolutely. ‘Alright. Let me know when you’ve reached a decision, alright?’

Gnawing on his bottom lip while his eyes darted between the other two occupants, Regris squirmed in his chair. When Keith dipped his head in acquiescence to Ryan’s question, Regris pushed himself up from his chair. ‘Alright,’ He drawled, ‘no idea what that was all about, but I gotta…’ He pointed towards the door with his thumbs. ‘… go. Now. Partners must be worried, you know how it is.’

‘Before you go,’ Straightening into a more professional stance, Ryan looked back at the other man. ‘I would like to ask you some questions about what happened tonight.’

‘Oh!’ Regris jumped, ‘Of course!’ Turning to Keith, Regris shot him a dazzling smile. ‘Don’t be a stranger!’

Actively resisting the lifting of his mouth, Keith breathed through the throbbing in his cheek. ‘No promises. Really, thanks though.’

Giving him one last smile, Regris followed Ryan out of the room, already diving into a story, hands waving around in big gestures.

Releasing a sigh of relief, shaky as it was, Keith let his shoulders sag, closing his eyes for a second. Warring with himself, he didn’t know whether to be glad to be alone, or bracing himself for the next disaster that would surely hit him.

Stomach churning, Keith balled his hands into fists.

Steeling himself, Keith looked back up, watching the bustle of the hospital outside of the tranquility of this room, gaze locking onto an intern that was nervously stationed right across from him, at some sort of desk station. Ah, probably the person Nadia told to keep watch.

Out of nowhere, a person burst into the room and revealed James rushing in, taking about five years off of Keith’s life.

‘Oh my god oh my god oh my god are you alright? Are you dying? Oh my god you’re dying and it’s my fault. I killed you didn’t I?’

Too stunned (and busy trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart – where did that tranquility go?) Keith could only stare, wide-eyed, as his roommate quickly advanced towards him, looking close to tears.

Keith flinched.

Slowing, James put down his outstretched arms again, but before he could say anything, Ryan skidded into the room, followed closely by Lotor, who wasn’t even out of breath or appeared rumpled in any way.

‘Jamie, please,’ Ryan panted. ‘He’s not dying. Just listen to Nadia, alright?’

‘Well, she’s not here now!’ James started pacing. ‘What if he’s dying and she doesn’t wanna tell me? Oh my god, this is so not how I imagined it would go when she finally called me.’

‘James,’ Lotor cut in, looking way too amused. ‘Calm down. He’s not dying.’ He then turned to Keith, lifting an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’

Keith shrugged. ‘Not that I know of.’

‘Aren’t we all dying? In some way?’ Ryan offered, making the other three look at him in surprise. Noticing the stares, Ryan startled. ‘I mean, don’t your cells stop replenishing faster than dying around 25 years old? And since we’re all that or older, doesn’t that mean we’ve all begun the process of slowly dying? Ya know, getting older?’

Wide-eyed, James seemed to be having an existential crisis. ‘Man, that’s bleak.’

‘Luckily,’ The boys all turned towards the door, where Dr.Rizavi stood, a clipboard in her hand. ‘We’re not focusing on the inevitability of death right now.’

James narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Kill-joy.’

Nadia scowled back. ‘Jerk.’

Keith caught Lotor’s eye, tilting his head in confusion. ‘They know each other?’

The other smirked. ‘They’re going on a date on Friday.’

Well, Keith was officially lost.

‘So the good new is,’ Dr. Rizavi was back in favor of Nadia, and her switch to professionalism was enough to make Keith sit up straight and pay attention. ‘Your ankle has fully healed from the… last incident, and your ribs are mostly fine too. I suspect your thumb will be fine with a few more weeks of rest. I have written instructions on how to take care of the burn right here, make sure you and James both read through it carefully.’ Nadia then turned towards James. ‘If he doesn’t take care of himself, you make sure he does. Got it?’

Keith was surprised to see James take the assignment to heart as if his life would depend on it, rather than make a challenging quip to Nadia. Though, with how James acted when he came in, Keith could’ve seen that coming.

‘Now,’ Nadia turned her hawk-like eyes onto Keith again. ‘I’m gonna give you this card again. I highly recommend you call.’ It was the same card to the psychologist’s office as last time. Keith shrugged noncommittally, chewing his lip. With the others in the room, though, he knew this wouldn’t be the last he heard of it, and it would only be a matter of time.

Rounding up the visit, Nadia once again arguing the importance of the instructions with James, the others lead Keith out of the hospital through a side entrance. Keith wasn’t very cognizant of the whole thing. He just remembered reading over the instructions again and again, waving to Nadia and Ryan, and taking the backseat while Lotor and James took the front.

When they got to the apartment, Keith evaded James’s helping hand and got himself out of the car. Back in the apartment, he took the chair while Lotor and James took the couch. Though Lotor offered a place underneath his arm, Keith pretended not to have seen it. He missed their worried glances, focusing on the package of paper and the tube of salve in his hands.

James and Lotor stopped reaching out for him, which only had Keith feeling guiltier for refusing.

At least the churning in his stomach wouldn’t get worse that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Hey James? Was it a dream or is Keith still lactose intolerant?’ Keith heard. Was that Lotor? When did he get into the apartment? And since when did Lotor have to ask that? It had been days since the second incident, and the feeling of being babysat from before was back full-force. Every day, either James or Lotor would stay with Keith, making sure he cleaned his wound properly and took care of himself. Every day, Keith would snap he could take care of himself, and retreat into the bathroom, begrudgingly admitting at least the boys got him to make sure the wound wouldn’t get infected.

Today though, Keith had been alone for the afternoon. And he’d taken advantage.

Besides the average hiding-away and laying in bed in the dark thing he did.

There was no reply Keith could hear, but still Lotor answered: ‘Cause he’s on the couch stuffing his face with ice cream that definitely is not lactose-free. Also there’s an empty pizza-box on the table and I have reason to believe it was a cheesy one.’

Ah, so he’s snitching on me to James. Cool.

‘I hope it kills me.’ Keith called out as an explanation, before cramming another spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth.

A sigh. Then: ‘James says he’s not going to give you his heat-pad or fluffy blanket this time.’

‘Yes he will,’ Keith swallowed what was left, ‘‘Cause he’s a sweetheart.’

Another sigh resounded throughout the apartment, Keith watching Lotor as he cradled his forehead into his palm in exasperation. He hummed along to whatever was coming from the other side of the line. Keith waited, angrily stabbing into the next layer of his ice cream and hearing a dull scraping. Ah. ‘James says he better not find you with that ice cream when he gets home.’

‘Or else?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Well it’s not gonna be a problem,’ Keith sighs regretfully, scraping his spoon across the bottom of the tub. ‘It’s nearly finished anyway.’

Even from Keith’s position on the couch, he could hear the indignant screech through the phone. Judging by the expression the other wore, Keith guessed Lotor would be hearing that for all eternity and nothing else.

RIP Lotor’s eardrums. You had a good run.

They can join Keith in his own little piece of suffering.

‘So, James is gonna race home now,’ Lotor said, still rubbing his ear with a grimace.

Oh. James had to really hurry home from work because Keith was too pathetic to take care of himself and he had to be inconveniencing everyone around him, huh?

Keith looked down at his lap, his stomach churning uncomfortably. Though, whether that was the ice cream turning to lead at the statement, or simply the diary acting up was anybody’s guess.

‘I know you’re struggling,’ Lotor said softly, sitting down next to his neighbor. ‘And I know I will never understand what you’re going through, but I’m here.’ Keith ducked down into himself even further, the remaining ice cream in his mouth turning to ash. He really couldn’t stop being a disappointment, couldn’t he?

Seeing Lotor’s hand coming for him, Keith flinched away, twisting his knees to face away from Lotor. He could see Lotor hesitate, watching sadly and unsure, before dropping his hand. Resolutely, Keith kept staring at the TV, focusing on some kid-wizard trying to defend himself from getting killed by using a disarming spell while he surely must know a different one?

They sat on the couch together, Keith quietly stewing and wishing he could just stick his fingers down his throat and undo the pity party he just had so Lotor would stop worrying and hovering and just leave him alone.

Instead, they watched more of the movie franchise until James burst through the door. The latter grabbed the remote and paused what they were watching, before planting himself in front of Keith, his hands settling on his hips. Lotor muttered a quiet “that’s my cue” before scurrying out the door to safety (the coward) and away from Momma James.

Feeling exceedingly small, Keith refused to look up at his friend, afraid of the disappointed glare he would find.

‘Do you see what you're doing to yourself right now?’ He finally asked, breaking the stifling silence. ‘Because I see it and it makes me sad.’ Feeling frustrated tears prickling in his eyes, Keith hid his face behind his bangs, the sassy attitude of before nowhere to be found. Embarrassment made its home in Keith’s throat, sitting heavy and resilient and making sure Keith felt it during every breath. He questioned the point of keeping his eyes trained downwards, since this would surely only encourage the tears to fall sooner than if he looked up. He didn’t want to risk that happening, yet at the same time, he couldn’t bear to see the look in James’s eyes.

Slowly, James crouched in front of Keith. When he tried to place his hands on Keith’s knees, finally, Keith didn’t move away. ‘Please, Keith,’ James whispered, ‘please call that psychologist. Just go once, at least, and you can see from there.’ Keith’s lip wobbled, but he still stared resolutely at the hands on his knees. Trembling, he put too much pressure on pressing his knees together, too much thought into staying still. What James said, though…

Maybe… maybe I should.

‘Please.’

‘Alright.’ Keith croaked, his voice soft and broken.

Still, that answer was all it took for James to light up the room with his smile. ‘Thank you.’

Then, James released his grip on Keith’s legs, and got back up. Contemplating, James stared at Keith, pathetically huddled on the couch. Even though they’d just reached a big achievement, James narrowed his eyes at the pitiful lump, before nodding resolutely. Keith tried not to become too interested when James left the room, a soft mumbling hinting at a phone call. Seriously, what’s up with people having phone calls al of a sudden?

‘Alright!’ A single clap resounded throughout the apartment. Keith startled enough to entertain the cause – aka one James Griffin. ‘Tomorrow, we’re going out.’

Pouting, Keith looked up at his roommate suspiciously. ‘Where are we going?’

‘It’s a good thing; I promise. Now, make sure to be ready by 10!’

To be completely honest, Keith would’ve preferred if their plans had been right away, instead of having to wait until the next day. Now, he was left to wonder what was going to happen while James made himself dinner. Alone, considering Keith already had his. Selfish.

Keith spent the rest of the evening contemplating what they would do tomorrow, the churning of wheels in his brain almost enough of an effort to distract him from the rumbling of his stomach.

Turned out James really was a sweetheart, and his motherly instinct wouldn’t let Keith suffer to full capacity as long as he was alive.

Keith truly didn’t deserve him.

Though the rest of the evening sucked (which, to be honest, still wasn’t enough for Keith to swear of diary, even if he promised himself he would), eventually, morning came. And with that morning came James, knocking on Keith’s door and telling him to get up and get ready.

And up he did get. Eventually. After a lot of dragging, threatening, and mothering, James got Keith into his car, still keeping their destination a surprise. The whole ride, Keith fiddled with his hands, taking in all the turns and trying to recognize where they were headed, but it was a fruitless effort. He had no idea, and the churning in his stomach only got worse. Maybe James was throwing him out. Why else would he have Keith randomly come into the car with him without telling him where they were going? Keith had been particularly difficult again, ever since they got back from the hospital a few days ago. He guessed he could understand wanting to get rid of him, he just didn’t think James would be so cruel as to not allow Keith to bring his stuff. What would even happen to those, would James throw it all out? Or maybe even sell it so something good could still come from this whole Keith-fiasco he had been subjected to? He hoped he had enough battery left on his phone to get himself somewhere he could stay the night, and find a place to get a new charger. Did he even bring his wallet? Right, it’s in my hoody. Would people even trust him though, with his ragged and unkempt appearance and a large bandage on his face? What if people thought he was a delinquent or criminal and no one would let him rent out a room or something and he had to sleep outside tonight? And then other fans of Lance and Shiro’s would find him and they’d attack him again and this time there wouldn’t be a Regris to help him-

‘Here we are!’ James cheerfully exclaimed, grin wide on his face while he took up the first free parking space he could find.

‘Here…’ Muttering, Keith looked around, seeing grass fields and fences and a building bearing a sign that said “Lucy Fields: dog trainer”. ‘… we are?’

Looking smug as hell, James watched Keith’s confusion grow before leaving him in the dust and getting out of the car. Scrambling after him, Keith stuttered more questions like “why are we here?” and other irrelevant stuff.

‘I talked to Ryan,’ James seemed to take pity on Keith, finally getting to the explaining-part of the trip as they made their way towards the building. ‘He was going to get a police dog to work with, but his dog was too focused on him, and way too protective. Wouldn’t leave his side in a tense situation, and didn’t chase after bad guys. Never got the grabbing perpetrators part down either, was too nice to do so. He was more focused on Ryan’s well-being than catching bad guys. The dog got fired, unfortunately, but Ryan mentioned that these sides of him – being too protective and attentive and nice – and his previous training made him qualified for a service dog.’ The assistant behind the desk waved them through when she heard James mention Ryan, and James seemed to know exactly where to go. ‘So anyway. I was talking to him, and he mentioned this dog might be good for you, so I called here and the trainer, Mrs. Fields, will be talking to us about the dog and letting us meet him.’

Going through the last door, Keith still in a slightly shell-shocked state, they were greeted by a smiling lady, probably in her mid-thirties to forties, her auburn hair in a low ponytail. She was smiling brightly while adjusting the bag tied around her waist. That bag reminded Keith a little of the one he used to have.

‘Hi! I’m so happy you called, he’s honestly such a sweetheart and he’s been doing so well with his training, he deserves to get a good home! From what Ryan said, I’m sure he’d do just fine with you and you seem like lovely people. Let’s go meet the pup, shall we?’

Uncertainly, Keith glanced at James, who only looked incredibly amused by the sheer look of help-I’m-overwhelmed that Keith’s face was broadcasting. This lady was so happy? And they were diving right in? Keith only just heard the news of possibly adopting a dog, like, five seconds ago and he had had no chance to adjust and she was just leading them towards the kennels like it was no big deal.

Like Keith hadn’t wanted a dog for forever and she was making his dreams come true, in addition to this dog being trained to apparently help him out or something? His mind had gone from I’m-getting-kicked-out to I’m-getting-a-puppy in point two seconds flat.

And honestly? Keith was living for it.

‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Mrs. Fields exclaimed, turning to face the boys following her when she stopped in front of a door. ‘I’m Lucy! I’ve been working with the cute boy behind this door ever since Ryan brought him over. I’m just so excited that he may finally get a home!’

‘Uh yeah,’ Keith stuttered, since James had apparently decided now of all times was the time to keep his trap shut. ‘Us, too.’ He could feel the impish smirk on James’s face, but if that hadn’t been the right reply then maybe he just should’ve done it himself.

Keith shoved James when Lucy turned towards the door, James cutting of his indignant squawk so as not to draw attention to himself. Still. The frown he used to answer Keith’s smirk was worth it.

‘Now,’ Lucy turned back towards the boys, completely oblivious to what had happened behind her back. ‘Are you ready to meet Kosmo?’

Feeling like he ate butterflies for lunch, Keith nodded. When Lucy opened the door and whistled, she let Keith in first, into a room that had a door leading towards a grass field behind it. Bounding towards the doggy door was the most gorgeous black shepherd Keith had ever seen, the dog’s slobbering tongue lolling happily outside of his mouth. He squeezed himself through the doggy door and into the room, tail wagging as he came over to a gaping Keith.

Tentatively, Keith held out his hand, watching as his one true love trotted over and sniffed him. Maybe this one would stay. Kosmo turned in such a way that he could lean bodily against Keith’s legs. Stumbling a little, Keith laughed and knelt down to he could properly cuddle with the dog. The serotonin flooding his body was enough to drown out the droning pain the pulling of his mouth caused, because, come on: he had a giant, soft, cuddly dog in his lap that was demanding his attention.

Turning around at the sound of laughter, he found Lucy beaming at the two, her hands clasped together in delight while James gazed at him with a soft smile. With all of his might, Keith projected a thank you towards James. Turning in his lap once more, Kosmo turned to look at Keith, tilting his head while the most gorgeous brown eyes gazed at Keith imploringly.

‘Let’s try some commands, shall we?’ Lucy asked, pulling out a notepad and some forms. Never in his life had Keith wanted to say “yes” as badly as right there.

So he did.

And they spent the rest of the morning and even going into the afternoon going through a list of commands, testing Keith and Kosmo’s compatibility. Lucy explained everything Kosmo was able to do and would need Keith to do, they went through every bit of Kosmo’s training, and every bit of paperwork that was required. They set dates for Keith to come back with Kosmo, so they could train together under Lucy’s guidance, and finally, she had Keith sign some papers so Kosmo could come with him. Lucy explained that they had to go on a trial period first before Kosmo could officially be adopted, and she would need to visit them at home as well, but Keith was already so sold on this pup that he would do anything to be able to keep him.

Keith would be receiving his certificates that stated Kosmo was his service dog by the next meeting, so he would be allowed to bring his dog anywhere with him.

After everything was signed, Lucy walked the trio to the car, Kosmo trotting dutifully next to Keith. The smile, though painful, hadn’t left Keith’s face all day. Lucy, too, appeared slightly tearful. James would later joke that it was because she’d never seen a more perfect pair than Keith and Kosmo together, and Keith, though not wanting to brag, silently agreed.

Now, Keith laid out a blanket on the backseat of James’s car where Kosmo would be sitting, before kneeling next to his beautiful pup. Tthough, to be fair, Kosmo was no longer a puppy. Still. All dogs were puppies in Keith’s eyes.

‘Alright Kosmo,’ Keith whispered, scratching behind Kosmo’s ear as James said goodbye to Lucy and got in the car. The dog tilted his head, his full attention on Keith. Keith’s smile pulled painfully tight. ‘Let’s go home.’

Chapter Text

TW: Implication of sexual assault; mention of panic attacks; use of the word r*pe

Chapter Thirteen

Blowing warm air into their hands, Pidge crossed the last street between them and their destination. They rubbed their hands together absently to fend off the biting December-air, before accepting the inevitability of that painful coming-back-to-life tingle when they warm back up. Ringing the bell, Pidge rocked back and forth on their feet as they settled in for the wait. They got buzzed into the building without unnecessary chatter, just the way they liked it, and they made their way up the flight of stairs to the apartment.

The door was already open when they got to the right floor, Ina Leifsdottir leaning against the doorpost. ‘I got peanut butter cookies this time.’

Pidge grinned. ‘My hero.’

The two made their way into Ina’s apartment, Pidge immediately throwing themselves onto the living room couch. They turned on the TV, letting it filter in as some background noise before they got to the real program of the night. Usually, a bit of socializing is necessary before claiming someone else’s TV as your own. ‘I hope you didn’t finish the season without me.’ Pidge called over their shoulder. ‘I know it’s been a while but I would never forgive you.’ When Ina put a plate of cookies in front of them, raising her eyebrow, Pidge amended their statement right away: ‘… maybe not never.’

‘There’s only a 12% chance of you forgiving me if I finish it without you and I am not taking that risk.’ Taking one look at Pidge devouring the offered sweets, Ina took a second to reconsider. ‘If I asked that college friend of yours for his recipe, I could probably make it a solid 15% though.’ Pidge’s glasses glinted with the hint of their upcoming fury, making Ina crack a smile. ‘Don’t worry, I know what you can do. Even him making those cookies himself wouldn’t guarantee my safety.’

Pidge smiled smugly, settling deeper into the plush cushions. Since the whole drama started that Keith had created, Pidge hadn’t really had the time to see Ina. Instead, they’d mostly spent time with Lance or sometimes even Shiro. And if they weren’t doing that, they also had this little thing called their second Master’s degree, which they’d been working towards. Time consuming things, all around. So in their opinion, it had been too long since they got to see Ina, but at least now they could safely say they could relax and not take their anger out on things – or people – that didn’t deserve it.

‘I really missed this,’ Pidge sighed, grabbing another cookie to munch on. ‘There’s been a lot going on.’

‘Oh for sure,’ Ina agreed easily, taking her own space on the couch and grabbing a pillow to cuddle. ‘We have this case that’s just…’ She shuddered. ‘I’ve worked on multiple cases by now but I still don’t understand how people could do things that are just so… cruel.’

Pidge’s thoughts immediately went to Keith and they felt their mouth dip into a scowl. ‘I hear you.’

Tilting her head, Ina nudged the smaller of the two. ‘Is this about that friend of yours who did something?’ Pidge nodded wordlessly. ‘You didn’t say much about it before. Want to talk about it?’

Releasing a big sigh, Pidge slipped even lower on the couch, folding their arms. ‘I don’t wanna ruin our night by talking about him.’

‘You can, if you want to. You seem really bothered by this, and I don’t mind. Might be good to get it out of your system.’

Debating with themselves, Pidge sat in silence for a while. On one hand, they really were torn up about it, and maybe talking about it would help. But what would it even do? They would probably end up ranting about him again and only bringing the mood down. Then again, Ina was a third party. Pidge could rant without saying things she would already know; maybe that would be nice?

Sitting up straight again, Pidge turned to face Ina. ‘It’s just… Alright so you know my friend from high school?’ Ina nodded. As Pidge’s oldest friend, Keith had made a lot of appearances in their stories. ‘He’s the one dating one of the friends I met in college, and they were really cute, honestly! Like, disgustingly so.’ Pidge then went off into the details to set up the scene: going to the bar with the entire friend group; Shiro and Keith’s struggles even before that night; the break up and everyone but Keith coming up to console Shiro. ‘So Lance…’ Oops, Pidge hadn’t been using names on purpose before this. They were friends with some pretty famous people, and Ina had always understood their stories just fine without knowing the names, so Pidge never had to share. Pidge just hoped Ina either forgot the name immediately (unlikely), just didn’t register it to mean “Lance McClain” (because why would she), or, if she did, didn’t turn out to be one of those people who were only in it to get in touch with celebrities. Either way, they had to backpedal. ‘Uhm, that friend from college? He noticed the high school friend wasn’t there, and he went off to look for him, right?’

Now more mindful of their words – or rather, names – Pidge carefully explained the rest of the night and the morning after, when Keith avoided their Hangover-Brunch. ‘So he cheated on my best friend with his brother’s ex-boyfriend, publicly shared it even, and avoided all of us after. I just really thought I knew him, after all this time, you know? And then he goes and hurts two of my best friends like this? Makes me wonder if I ever even knew him at all.’ By the time they reached this part, the icky touchy-feely-part, Pidge had taken up hugging a pillow as well, just like Ina. ‘We’ve been through so much and it just makes me wonder if that even meant anything to him, if he can give all that up so easily.’ Even though they desperately didn’t want to say the next words, Pidge knew it was important for Ina to hear them. ‘To give me up so easily.’ Admitting that, when they didn’t have to with the others, quieted Pidge for a second. The others got it; they didn’t need to be told explicitly.

‘You think he gave you up?’

Pidge nodded, not looking up to meet her friend’s gaze. ‘I mean, yeah. They posted the pictures online, he had to know what that would do. He had to know that by declaring this as his new relationship or whatever, he’d break ties with us, right? Publicly announcing his cheating? Of course he did then try to say he hadn’t wanted this to happen, but if he didn’t want it to happen he shouldn’t have done it! He contacted Lance, like, a day later with some fake account and he couldn’t even answer, he was crying so much! So then I had to tell the cheating one to stop and it’s just… such a mess.’ Pidge sighed, staring at the distracting flashes of some news station on the screen. ‘I just… I wonder if it was even real, you know? The two friends dating, if the cheating one even really loved the college friend. If he even really liked us, or if he’d just wanted to get his brother’s boyfriend’s attention or something. I thought I knew him… But I guess I was wrong.’

The two sat in silence for a while, both of them mulling things over. Finally, Ina looked back up. ‘So why did he do it?’

Pidge rubbed their eyes behind their large glasses. ‘Hmm?’

‘You feel like he abandoned you and betrayed your friendship by choosing someone else when he knew the risks. Besides that, you’re frustrated about him having put you in a difficult position, being caught between a best friend you’ve known forever, who appears to have done something questionable, and two other close friends who’ve been slighted and you feel like you’re obligated to side with. Am I right?’

Wide-eyed, Pidge nodded wordlessly.

‘So what did your friend tell you? After, I mean.’ Ina’s sharp gaze really didn’t miss anything, did it?

‘Uhm…’ Pidge looked down at where they were toying with a loose thread on the pillow case. ‘Nothing really. None of us have talked to him since.’

Before, they’d felt certain of their decision – the entire group’s decision – to block out someone who hurt them so badly. Now, however, they didn’t really know why or how they’d even gotten there. Especially under Ina’s pointed gaze.

‘How come?’

‘We…’ Pidge could feel their shoulders hunching in on them, their stomach coiling. ‘We all blocked him.’ When they were confronted by Ina’s singular raised eyebrow, Pidge felt indignation well up inside their chest. ‘What? He was a jerk! He cheated and then decided to rub it in our faces by putting it all over the internet! We gave him his chance to explain himself at brunch but he never showed. How were we supposed to take that? So what if he decides to give it all up and be a cheating asshole, and then ignore all of us when we were just worried about him? What were we supposed to do? Hunt him and his new lover down and be like “hey Keith, can you rub it in our faces one more time how-”.’

‘Keith?’

Ah shoot, here we go.

Immediately, Pidge cut their rant off, staring at Ina warily.

‘Keith Kogane?’ Ina pressed, the pillow on her lap forgotten.

Hesitating, Pidge drawled a low ‘…yes?’. They took in the way Ina had gone pale, the pillow clutched tightly in her hands. ‘Ina? What’s going on?’

That seemed to be enough to shake her out of whatever thought she’d gotten lost in. ‘You should talk to him.’

Pidge narrowed their eyes. ‘Why?’

‘He’s been your friend since high school right? He deserves to have you at least ask for his side of the story.’

Okay, so it wasn’t a “get back in touch with him so you can introduce us”… For now.

‘We saw the pictures. They were enough to know he cheated, what else could he tell us?’

Putting the pillow aside, Ina scooched forward to grab one of Pidge’s hands. ‘You’re a person of science. You believe in evidence: the facts. Right?’

‘Uhm, those pictures were evidence enough. He’s a cheating bastard, end of story.’ Isn’t he?

When Pidge made to get up, Ina tugged them back down. ‘You know very well that when you have a theory, you don’t just look for evidence to prove it right. You try to find evidence to prove it wrong, too. You search to reject the null-hypothesis.’

‘Ina…’

‘No, listen. You said he abandoned you, but you shut him down when he tried to talk. You’re a smart person, but even you can misunderstand.’ Ducking forward a little, Ina made sure she really caught Pidge’s gaze, claiming all of their attention for herself. ‘Even you can be wrong. The fact that you usually aren’t doesn’t mean you can stop looking at explanations other than yours.’

Alarm bells were ringing in Pidge's head, and honestly, they felt cold settle in their stomach. They prided themselves in being impartial, in being practical, in being able to see facts when others were blinded by emotion. Did I let feelings cloud my judgment this time? Was that really what was happening here? Could they really be that stubborn – that blind? Okay... Pidge thought. What happened and what are the options? Keith had a drink with Shiro’s ex and left with him. Hours later, pictures of the two of them together are all over Twitter. So he cheated.... But why the pictures in the first place? Cheating is bad enough without making a big deal out of it. He ruined his career. So why would he post them? What am I missing? Pidge ran their fingers through their hair, groaning in confusion. He said he “didn't want it”. Want what? This mess of a situation? The pictures being spread? That would mean Shiro’s ex uploaded them without consent. But really, who does that? But who would upload them themselves, either? I'm missing a part. A crucial one. This whole thing doesn't make sense now that I really think about it. And Ina...

‘You know something.’ Pidge accused.

Ina faltered, then hesitantly smiled. ‘I’m not allowed to say, but I can say this: working with the police has shown me that there’s two sides to every story. If Keith really is your best friend, you should hear him out. Learn about his side. Maybe there’s more to it than you think.’

Frowning, Pidge scanned Ina’s face, hoping to find a clue to what she knew. Their head was spinning in different directions, mind whizzing to possibilities they hadn’t allowed themselves to consider. Talking to Keith? After over a month? To find what? What other explanation could Keith honestly give them, when the evidence seemed to point to this one thing so overwhelmingly?

Dropping their gaze back down to the pillow in their lap, Pidge felt her eyebrows draw even closer together. What were they missing?

A squeeze in their hand brought them back to the moment, Ina giving Pidge a sympathetic smile. ‘You’ll figure it out. For now, let’s finally watch this latest season. I’ve been waiting two months for this.’

Pidge flashed a watery smile, but their heart wasn’t in it anymore. They weren’t even sure they’d even be able to register what would happen.

A flash on the TV caught their attention. ‘Hey Ina, turn it up.’

Ina looked over too, freezing when she caught sight of the headline. Immediately, she scrambled for the remote, frantically pressing the volume button.

‘… viscous attack. No information is known about who did this to the young actor, or how extensive the injuries are. So far, the only thing that’s gotten out is this photo-’ Behind the news anchor, a grainy picture popped up of what was definitely Keith, sitting in a hospital bed. ‘-taken of the actor after receiving hospital care. It appears the actor may have had a run in with some disagreeable fans…’

Pidge tuned out the perky, and slightly condescending, woman on the screen, instead grabbing for their phone.

TO: LANCE

Lance???

TO: LANCE

Did you see the news? The fuck?!

Looking back up, the anchor had by now moved on to the next topic, but Pidge could still see that one picture clear as day. Or well, as clear as the picture had been, which wasn’t very clear at all.

Keith looked so small, sitting on that bed, his face covered in gauze.

He looked lonely.

Pidge really had some research to do

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bursting through the hospital doors, Lance looked frantically for someone to approach while Shiro trudged reluctantly behind him.

‘Excuse me,’ Slightly (very) frazzled, Lance leaned over the nearest desk to find a nurse. ‘I’m looking for my… I’m looking for someone?’

The nurse blinked at him in surprise, stuttering out a hello as she took in who exactly was in front of her. In another life, Lance might’ve pulled some moves on her, seeing as she was quite pretty. Big, expressive eyes, nice smile. As it were, he was trying very hard not to tap his fingers on the desk in impatience. ‘Who is it you’re looking for, Mr. McClain?’

‘Lance?’ Looking up, he came face to face with a person he hadn’t expected to see here.

‘Adam?’

The man in question, who’d been talking to another woman behind the desk, excused himself from the conversation to walk over to the other two. ‘Hey. What are you two doing here?’ His light hair was all mussed up, his glasses shielding slightly red tinted eyes.

‘What are you doing here?’ Shiro piped up from behind Lance, looking struck and confused. He was gaping at Adam, sounding like the sentence had been pulled out of him by force.

‘I heard about Keith and thought he’d need someone to come pick him up.’ The way he said it came across defensive to Lance, though he wasn’t sure why he would feel the need to be defensive.

Shiro seemed more wary about what he’d said though. ‘Why you?’

Adam’s eyebrows nearly kissed his hairline. ‘Well, I wasn’t sure you would. I’m guessing Lance dragged you here?’ Clenching his jaw, Shiro looked away. ‘Exactly. You know just as well as I do that you wouldn’t be here if Lance hadn’t been with you tonight. I wasn’t sure if you’d come, Lance,’ Adam's voice had softened the slightest bit when addressing Lance, but right after, his eyebrows turned down again. ‘I wasn’t sure any of you would come. And honestly, Keith deserves better than that.’

‘So he deserves you, then?’ Shiro sneered, the viciousness in his voice making even Lance reel back from him.

Not the slightest bit bothered that it meant he would have to look up a little, Adam stepped right up in Shiro’s face. ‘He deserves for someone to be there for him and it clearly wasn’t going to be you.’

‘Oh, so you’re obviously the best choice here.’ Shiro stepped closer too, puffing out his chest ridiculously, but Adam stood his ground. ‘What made you decide to take action now? I didn’t exactly see you running off to him before. What, just wanted to play the hero?’

Brown eyes narrowed behind his rectangle glasses. ‘I’m not afraid to admit that I am ashamed of not contacting him sooner. At least I tried to find him, but I don’t have his number and he hasn’t been at his apartment. Did you even know that? Do you know anything about how he’s doing?’ Shiro merely huffed. ‘You’re no better than me, so don’t even try me, Takashi. At least I’m doing something. Can you honestly say the same?’

Working his jaw in agitation, Shiro looked down at his feet, leaning backwards slightly.

‘Uhm…’ A timid voice made all three men look over towards the desk, where the blonde nurse looked at them uncertainly. ‘Did you still need me to look up your friend for you?’

Feeling like he could slap his own forehead, Lance walked back over. ‘Yes, sorry about that. Keith Kogane?’

The nurse fidgeted uncomfortably for a little, before she turned to a computer. However, a doctor further down looked up from her tablet and walked towards them. ‘No need for that, Nyma.’ Almost vibrating out of his shoes, Lance looked on, perplexed, how the nurse actually did stop her search. Just as Lance opened his mouth in indignation, the doctor turned to address him. ‘Hello gentlemen. I’m Dr. Rizavi, I treated Mr. Kogane’s injuries.’

Sighing his relief, Lance stumbled closer to her. He noted the doctor didn’t offer her hand, but maybe she just understood how badly Lance didn’t want introductions, but wanted action. ‘Thank God! Can you take me to him?’

Raising her eyebrow at the man following behind Lance, Dr. Rizavi slowly turned to look back at her conversational partner, and smiled a smile that was very obviously fake. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’ Shiro grumbled, crossing his arms. ‘I’m his emergency contact. You should’ve contacted me the second he got here, and now you’d refuse to even let me see him?’

Lance was, to be honest, a little surprised Shiro even stuck for them like this, hesitant as he’d been to even come down here. Even so, Lance appreciated the effort he put into it, though he wasn’t sure whether the other was only doing it for him or not.

Hugging the tablet comfortably to her chest, Dr. Rizavi focused her cold eyes on Shiro. ‘I’m aware you weren’t notified, Mr. Shirogane. The patient was conscious when he got in, therefore we called the person he asked us to call.’ Which wasn’t you went unsaid, even though it hung in the air between them as if it slapped them in the face. Who had Keith asked them to call?

‘Who did he call?’ A timid Adam spoke up, shuffling closer as if he hadn’t just stood his ground against Shiro and won.

‘That’s not my information to share.’ The doctor answered stiffly.

‘I’m his brother!’ Shiro exclaimed, ignoring the soft “Oh, so now you are?” Adam muttered behind his back.

Before any of that could escalate, Lance drew the doctor’s attention back to him. ‘Can we see him? Please?’

Pursing her lips, the doctor seemed to melt the slightest of bits. ‘I’m afraid you can’t.’

‘And why the hell not?’

‘Takashi!’ Adam immediately reprimanded.

Looking like a kitten who got flicked on the nose, Shiro hunched his shoulders. ‘I apologize, doctor. Why can’t we see him?’

Even through the needling feeling in his stomach telling Lance he had to move, he could still recognize the slight mirth in the doctor’s expression. Still, Lance kind of wanted to shake her and demand answers, but he guessed that wasn’t a very good plan of action here.

‘He already left.’

And just like that, Lance’s world tilted off its axis.

‘What?’ Distantly, he was aware the soft whisper came from him, but he didn’t pay it any mind through the haze of his own mind screaming at him and feeling like his feet were disconnecting from the ground and were instead drawn to the ceiling.

‘The person he wanted us to call has already come to retrieve him, and we left him in his care.’ So it’s a guy. Lance’s mind taunted deliriously. His stomach twisted so violently, he had to fight to keep his face neutral.

‘Why did you send him off with some stranger?’ Uh-oh, Shiro’s losing his cool again. The man in question turned to Adam, as if he sensed the place where Lance stood was now only occupied by an empty shell. ‘Can they do that?’

‘We can,’ The doctor answered instead. ‘The patient asked for this person specifically. He wasn’t a stranger to Keith. He was there for him.’ When we weren’t.

‘So what do we do now, just leave?’

‘Takashi,’ Adam whispered, eyebrows drawn together in pity as he hesitantly reached out for the other.

But Shiro raised the hand Adam had meant to take hold of, effectively stopping the latter from coming closer. ‘No. Just…’ As Shiro stormed off, Lance vaguely remembered this meant he, too, should leave. Shiro was kind of his ride, after all.

Dr. Rizavi turned her attention to Lance, looking as if she expected another outburst.

‘Uhm…’ If someone were to ask Lance what he was feeling, or what was going on inside his head right now, he wouldn’t be able to explain it. There was just… chaos. So much so that Lance didn’t even know what it was that was warring inside him. ‘Thank you, Dr. Rizavi.’ Lance settled on, when he was able to pull himself out of his head enough to acknowledge human beings again. ‘For taking care of him.’

An indiscernible look on her face, Dr. Rizavi nodded. ‘Of course. Good night.’

Already halfway through turning around, Lance nodded back absently. He started making his way towards the exit, fingers fiddling with the edges of his sleeves, hoping on all hope that Shiro hadn’t driven off yet. Behind him, he could hear Adam excusing himself as well, before his footsteps betrayed his approach. Silently, Adam and Lance walked side by side.

‘I’m sorry about Shiro.’ Lance offered, gaze trained on the fast approaching doors.

‘Me too.’ Clearing his throat, Adam visibly perked up, though whether any of it was real was doubtful. ‘Anyway, that’s up to him to apologize for.’ In front of the hospital, the two ducked away before the paparazzi in the distance could spot them. A little hurriedly, they made their way towards the parking lot. They reached Adam’s car first, but by now Lance had also spotted Shiro’s car, still parked where they’d left it. Thanks to the lights in the car, he could see how Shiro sat slumped forward, arms crossed over the steering wheel, his face hidden in the safety their shadows provided.

Adam got into his car right away, seemingly lost on thoughts. Lance caught the door before it could close, drawing Adam’s gaze towards him. He seemed tired, with eyes half lidded and carrying heavy shadows underneath, but Lance was sure he didn’t look any different himself.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Lance searched for words to say. Adam waited patiently throughout the process of Lance picking up some words and slamming them into a sentence. ‘Thank you.’ For coming for him when I couldn’t (when I wouldn’t). For not letting him down (like I did). For being a good friend (while I wasn’t). For caring about him.

Regarding him for a second longer without answering, Adam’s calculated gaze seemed to see right through him. Then, he nodded. Like he understood. Like he knew.

Lance nodded back. Like he’d actually said anything worth understanding.

Adam drove off after a soft “good night, Lance”, leaving the other to deal with Mr. dark, tall and broody. Puffing his cheeks, Lance squared himself up and finally decided to grace Shiro with his presence. When Lance opened the door to the passenger’s seat, Shiro had already sat himself upright, leaning backwards against the chair and just… Staring.

Whatever words Lance had wanted to say, they disappeared as he took in Shiro’s slumped form. Even after all their vulnerable talks and Shiro’s weird irrational outbursts, Lance was still not used to seeing Shiro not put together. Not perfect.

He wasn’t used to seeing him so human.

So Lance buckled in and turned to watch out the window. It was only a second later that Shiro started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. Lance went over their visit at the hospital again, over-analyzing the way the doctor had looked at them – the professionally disguised annoyance he was sure he wasn’t imagining. How Adam had come to the hospital, but especially the fact that Adam apparently thought Lance wouldn’t even go to the hospital when Keith got hurt. Was that the kind of person Adam saw him as? Or was that the kind of person he’d become?

‘You should apologize to Adam.’ Lance whispered to Shiro. They still had some way to go, which Lance guessed wasn’t working in Shiro’s favor. He couldn’t just walk away in agitation this time.

Shiro was quick to answer, Lance looking over to watch him as he did. ‘Why? He apparently chose Keith’s side too, so what do I care.’

‘So that’s why you were being so harsh,’ Lance took note of Shiro’s defensiveness, having already figured there to be more than just Shiro being in a bad mood in general. As he usually was these days whenever something slightly Keith-related came up. ‘You were hurt he was there to support Keith and not you.’

‘Well yeah.’ Shiro shrugged, but when his shoulders settled, they weren’t in their usual broad and proud portrayal. ‘If you’d asked me who my best friends were, not too long ago I’d have said… my ex, Keith and Adam.’ His eyebrows dipped in the middle. ‘Now my ex is my ex. And Keith…’

When it became clear Shiro wouldn’t be finishing that sentence, Lance decided he should. ‘He’s hurt you and now you’re afraid Adam will, too.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Well,’ Lance slapped his hands onto his legs. ‘I understand that that’s a scary situation, but that’s no reason to push him away. He’s a good guy.’

Shooting Lance a quick look, Shiro sighed. ‘Yeah, I know. You’re right.’

Gaping, Lance’s mind screeched to a halt, before a big grin bloomed across his face. ‘Oh my gosh. Can I get that in print?’

Shiro huffed out a laugh, shaking his head fondly. Then, his eyebrows furrowed pensively while he focused on the road. Though more satisfied with the mood, Lance recognized this as Shiro’s I-need-quiet-time-to-think-things-through-time, if only just for a little while. Curiously, he watched the other man while he waited, fiddling in his seat and clamping his jaw shut to stop himself from rambling. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shiro finally whispered: ‘I’ll… call him. And apologize.’

Lance clapped Shiro on the shoulder, laughing at Shiro’s startled reaction. He just totally fixed Adam and Shiro’s friendship. Boy, he was so awesome.

His smile died down as he turned towards the window. He was glad Shiro’s mood had been lifted, but Lance couldn’t help but feel his heart sink. Here they were, bonding and fighting and making up, but what did Keith get?

He had to do something. He had to know if Keith was really safe, if he was okay. No matter what happened between them, he never would’ve wished anything like this to happen to him. He wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to contact Keith directly, though. He wasn’t ready for Keith to tell him why he chose to do what he did. Or what that would mean for them. Or about himself.

So he had to find another way. Adam had said Keith hadn’t been back to his apartment in months, so stalkerish-ly hoping to see him there was out of the question. So far, only Adam had taken steps to get to Keith again, so maybe Lance could wait until Adam reached out to Keith and ask after? No, that’d take too long. Plus, he wasn’t even sure Adam would do that and Lance couldn’t risk waiting around for nothing.

He refused to ask Shiro’s ex for anything, even though he wasn’t sure the two of them were even still in contact. Neither of their social media accounts had shown they were (though, he guessed Keith’s account wasn’t exactly trustworthy on that, given that he hadn’t done anything with it in forever).

Then it hit him.

The person who must know Keith’s schedule, the person who would have to be updated about anything concerning Keith’s life and whereabouts.

Kolivan.

Surely, he knew. At least he would know about Keith being safe, right?

Sitting up straighter, Lance clutched his thighs, feeling his heart rate accelerate. He was going to do it. Glancing over at the other person in the car, Lance hesitated. Sure, he seemed calmer and he’d come to the hospital to check on Keith, but Shiro didn’t exactly seem like he’d want to take this step with Lance on top of it all. No, Lance pondered, I’ll do this when I get home. Alone.

And so he sat, bouncing in his seat, waiting to finally get back home. He tried to let himself get distracted with the soft playing of the radio, or the twinkling lights of what little stars he could see, but his mind was already racing with what he would say to Kolivan, and what Kolivan might tell him in return.

Surely Shiro noticed Lance being quiet, though he didn’t say anything about it. He only shot Lance a reassuring smile when dropping him off, with the message to meet up soon again, before he drove off. Honestly, Lance preferred it that way; he wasn’t exactly hoping for a long conversation about feelings at the moment.

Sprinting up the stairs into the building, Lance hurried towards the elevators, jamming the button repeatedly. Muttering under his breath, Lance crossed and uncrossed his arms. When the elevator arrived with a leisure ding, he mashed the button for his floor, tapping his foot the whole ride up. Before the elevator even got to his floor, Lance sighed and grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. He looked up Kolivan’s contact info, ignoring some messages from Pidge that he’d probably forget about if he didn’t check them now, while walking down the hall, grunting in frustration when his shaky hand couldn’t get the key into the lock.

Who even made these darn locks so difficult?

Whooping softly in success, Lance finally twisted the lock and entered his apartment, tapping the call button as he did. Probably should’ve waited, Lance thought as he struggled to get out of his jacket with one arm out of commission. Well, too late now…

‘Kolivan speaking.’

‘Kolivan!’ Yikes, that was probably too loud… Oops? ‘It’s, uh, Lance?’

Even though Kolivan was a gruff-sounding man already, his voice – somehow – turned even colder. ‘Mr. McClain.’

Wow, what had crawled up Kolivan’s ass and died? Lance understood that it was still probably way too early for this but he didn’t know what had warranted such a cold greeting. Not that he’d ever gotten a warm greeting, but at least Kolivan had used his first name before. ‘Mr….’ Lance trailed off. Fuck, I don’t know his last name. Abort! Abort!

A sigh came from the other end of the line. ‘How can I help you?’ Judging by the tone and how it sounded like Kolivan was clenching his jaw, Lance guessed that helping him was the last thing Kolivan wanted to do.

‘I’m looking for Keith, is he safe?’

For a while, all Lance heard was silence. He even checked if maybe he’d accidentally hung up, but the call was still ongoing. He was about to ask if Kolivan was still there, when the latter spoke up.

It was not a tone Lance had heard before. It was even lower, practically dropping into a growl – a vicious thing that made the hair on Lance’s neck stand up.

‘Is Keith safe?’ Kolivan’s voice rumbled, both quiet while still sucking up all of Lance’s attention. He sounded incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Lance would dare ask such a ridiculous thing. What, did Kolivan turn against Keith too or something? ‘You’re calling me, in the middle of the night to inquire about a boyfriend you haven’t bothered to pay attention to for weeks? What, saw the news, haven’t you? Decided he’s worth your time again now that he’s getting more than just negative attention again; when it would look favorable to play the forgiving boyfriend? Don’t you think you’ve hurt him enough?’

Spluttering, Lance wasn’t really sure what to say. What was Kolivan going on about? Him hurting Keith? What? ‘W- huh?’

‘Look, I don’t know what your goal is here, and frankly, I don’t care. If you decide Keith’s not worth your time when it’s convenient for you, don’t come crawling back when there’s something to gain. He needed you then and he needs you now, and you and all your so called “friends” all believed the first idea thrown at you when you all should have known him and stood by him, or at least let him explain. You all should be ashamed of yourself.’

Feeling the bile rise at the thought of Kolivan hanging up before he got an answer, Lance blurted out his question before Kolivan got the chance to. He’d deal with the confusing words later. ‘I just wanted to know if he’s safe! That’s all I want, you don’t even have to tell me where he is or if he’s with-’ His breath caught, images of the two together forming at the forefront of his mind.

The actual growl from the other side of the line (what the hell?) startled Lance out of his thoughts. ‘How dare you even suggest he’d want anything to do with that… foul lowlife Shirogane dared call his boyfriend. If I ever see the bastard again…’

Lance could practically hear Kolivan grinding his molars together in agitation. Honestly, Lance didn’t want to know what Kolivan had in mind for Shiro’s ex, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

‘He’s safe, no thanks to you. Now, goodnight, Mr. McClain.’

‘Thank y-’ Before the sentence was even finished, Lance was met by the beeping of an ended call.

Well then.

What the heck had any of that meant?

And why did Lance feel as chastised as a kid who knocked down his mother’s favorite vase?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Staring at the coffee in their hands, Pidge sat in their kitchen. Ever since their talk with Ina, Pidge had been thinking about Keith. Contrary to how it was before, now Pidge didn’t think of him and immediately felt their face flush in anger. Their eyebrows still furrowed, but lost in thought as they were, that wasn’t completely unexpected. They couldn’t help but go over all of the information they had and play devil’s advocate, as they should have done before.

Pidge had her suspicions. A week passed since their conversation with Ina, and only now were they starting to allow the suspicion to be formed into words.

It all started with Keith’s message to Lance. The one Pidge had dismissed. The one they had been too angry for, at the time, to consider what it truly meant and never bothered to get back to.

“Please believe me when I say I didn’t want it.”

They’d thought Keith regretted what he’d done – hadn’t wanted it to be so public – and had wanted to get back in their good graces despite the hurt it had caused. But then why post the pictures at all? Or allow them to be taken in the first place?

Unless he hadn’t allowed them to be taken or posted, and Shiro’s ex had done that without Keith knowing. Which would be a dick move. But the only thing that seemed to make sense, when considering the consequences Keith surely must have known about, was that Keith hadn’t wanted the pictures to be posted. So either the ex and Keith had had a misunderstanding about that, or maybe the ex was a jerk and posted them despite Keith not wanting him to. But would Keith sleep with someone that awful?

Though, they guessed that wasn’t the right question. The pictures showed quite clearly in what activities they’d been partaking, so there was no doubt about that. So then… Why did he do it? He’d seemed so in love with Lance; so devoted as Shiro’s brother. A scandal like this couldn’t have been kept a secret, even if those pictures had never seen the light of day. So why would Keith risk it? Why did he want to risk it?

Or maybe… That’s what he hadn’t wanted. Pidge startled at the realization, mind running a mile a minute.

Assuming the pictures were posted against his will, which must’ve been the case because Keith isn’t as dumb as to purposefully do something like that, the ex is capable of some pretty asshole-ish moves.

But where did he draw the line? What if posting those pictures wasn’t the only thing he didn’t have consent for?

So the question wasn’t whether or not Keith had slept with him. The question is whether he’d wanted it. And Keith had even explicitly told them he hadn’t. However, instead of meaning he hadn’t wanted the situation to turn out this way, like Pidge thought, Keith had meant he hadn’t wanted to sleep with him at all, hadn’t he?

He was… Had he been…?

Watching the rippling in the mug, it took a while for Pidge to realize they were shaking. For all they were worth, they hoped they were wrong. They hoped with all their might that this was still not the answer they’d been looking for. To imagine that this is what Keith had had to go through, and then being shunned for it?

They pushed their coffee away from them, their stomach churning. This… Please don’t let it be this.

Nearly throwing over the chair in their haste, Pidge sprinted to their room (which, usually they wouldn’t do because, ugh exercise). Grabbing their laptop, they barricaded themselves back at their kitchen table with enough coffee and granola bars to last them a while. They weren’t sure they could stomach the nourishments if they turned out to be right about their suspicions, but hey, at least they could tell Hunk they tried.

Privacy was a thing Pidge valued very much, therefore they didn’t take the decision to hack Keith’s phone lightly. However, they wanted to actually gather evidence this time. They wanted to prove themselves wrong.

But so far, they weren’t doing that.

There were texts from someone named James, about getting groceries or making dinner, so maybe a roommate? He seemed close with Keith, even discussing nightmares and rough nights.

Nightmares and rough nights didn’t need to mean what they thought it could mean. Despite not wanting to admit it before, Pidge knew they and the others  had been bad friends to Keith. It could have been about that too, it didn’t have to mean… What Pidge thought this all might mean.

The next most used was a chat with some guy named Lotor, who’d also been mentioned in texts between the previous duo. This guy sent a lot of links to videos or pages that ended up being on grounding techniques or astronomy, or just texts scheduling meet-ups and dinner.

Grounding techniques; nightmares; rough nights. Keith was not having a Good Time. Is he having panic attacks?

Lastly, there were some sporadic texts with a “Ryan”, somehow usually accumulating into asking Keith about pressing charges. Sometimes he updated Keith on the gathering of evidence, referencing pictures and audio files and reports.

He also mentioned what the charges would be.

It looked like Keith was still undecided about whether he would be taking things to trial, but if he did, it was clear what for.

He would be pressing charges for sexual assault.

The ground seemed to fall away underneath Pidge, leaving them with the awful swooping sensation of falling. They really hoped they wouldn’t be, but here, looking at these texts, it was confirmed that they had been right. The second time, at least. Because they had been so wrong the first time – they all had been. And they had reacted in the most horrible way that they could have, considering what really happened.

What Keith had been trying to tell them, what they’d all ignored…

That he’d been raped.

Chapter Text

TW: mention of wound-specific-stuff and blood; implications of non-con & violence; mention of eating problems

Chapter fourteen

Staring at his hands, Keith ignored the snip, snip and the gentle tug and release that had been going on for the past few minutes. Beneath him, little tufts of inky black hair collected, ready to be swept away. To his right, James hummed under his breath, moving his weight to the side as he ran the comb through Keith’s hair again, snipping the ends.

Keith watched the cracked dry skin around his knuckles and waited.

The gentle sssst of blades sliding through strands made the hair at the back of Keith’s neck stand up. The radiating chill of the metal so close by made his skin crawl; made him want to pick at the loose ends of split skin on his hands. But this was James. It wasn’t just a floating pair of scissors with sharp edges so close to delicate skin. It was James holding them, and apparently his barber father had taught him some basic skills on how to style hair without making a complete mess of it.

Taking a step back, James seemed to be judging his work, though Keith didn’t look up to check. He just bore the occasional ruffle of his hair that accompanied James’s thoughtful hums. The strands grazed his shoulders now, even in the front, though he guessed the very front ones were slightly shorter still.

Goodbye, bangs. Keith thought ruefully.

Eventually, seemingly satisfied, James kneeled down in front of where Keith was seated on the closed lid of the toilet. Smiling gently at him, James put down his scissors and comb. ‘Ready for the next part?’

The corner of Keith’s mouth quivered, but since it pulled on the sore skin of his cheek, he didn’t dare let himself smile back. He nodded instead.

When James reached out his hand this time, Keith merely closed his eyes and let his roommate tie the front of his hair back. Because his hair was long enough to do that now. Closing his eyes tighter, Keith braced himself as James carefully peeled back the bandage. With James’s help, they soaked off the old dressings with some water from the sink, then cleaned the wound a little. Finally, Keith sank down onto the closed toilet again, grimacing as James retrieved a soft wash cloth.

The next part is really going to suck.

Even though he knew James was being as careful as he could, Keith still winced when James took the cloth to his cheek, carefully cleaning out the last of the old medication.

‘I know,’ James murmured ruefully, catching Keith’s pinched expression. Blinking harshly, Keith released his teeth’s hold on his bottom lip, schooling his expression as much as possible.  Despite how cautious James was, there was still a little blood on the cloth, but since Nadia (and the pamphlet she’d given them) assured them that was a possibility, neither James nor Keith was too worried about it. Didn’t mean it didn’t suck though.

Warm fingers gently grasped Keith’s chin, tilting his head up. Moving a little closer, to the point where he was situated just between Keith’s knees, James grabbed his fancy scissors and comb again, now starting on the prickly mess that was growing on Keith’s face. Shaving, when there’s a burn wound on your face, is not a very good idea. Unless you like the irritation that would accompany it. And thus, James had excitedly offered himself and his way too fancy tool kit to help Keith out. Keith guessed he should thank Mr. Griffin for teaching James these skills. Though he hadn’t yet seen what James had made of his hair, he was sure it was better than the unruly mess Keith had let it grow into.

And so, here they were, in a much too cramped bathroom, Keith casting his eyes up to the ceiling as James poked out his tongue a little, the latter looking way too focused for just trimming someone else’s facial hair. His nimble hands were slow and steady, softening even more when working around the burnt skin and the accompanying blisters. Trying not to wince, Keith tried to stay as still as possible throughout the ordeal. James knew what he was doing, so Keith just had to let him do it.

‘There, all done.’ James finally declared, sitting back on his haunches for a bit, before gathering the supplies to take care of Keith’s wound and going right back to bandaging it.

Indigo eyes snapped down to watch the mess of hair on the floor. ‘Sorry you had to do this.’

Eyes flickering up to meet Keith’s, James shot him a quick smile before focusing back on the task at hand. ‘Thank you for trusting me to do this for you.’ Before Keith could even scoff, James already got up off the floor, dusting off his thighs. ‘Was about time I practiced again, anyway. I’ll go make us some tea while you finish up in here.’

Not really waiting for Keith’s acquiescence, though he got it regardless, James shot Keith a two-fingered salute and a “let me know what you think!”, closing the door nearly all the way on his way out.

Sliding off the lid of the toilet, Keith stalled a bit by cleaning up the hair off the floor. For just a second, he fiddled with the cut off ends, holding them over the little garbage can, letting his nerves settle. Though, all they really ended up doing was build up even more. He finished cleaning up with a huff.

When Keith finally mustered up the courage to stand up, he turned towards the mirror, leaning his hands on the sink. He still kept his gaze down, his heart beating wildly inside his chest. After being confronted by the bruises for so long, Keith had learnt to avoid the mirrors. Had learnt he’d rather not see what traces he could still find of the recent months. But James had asked for his opinion. He had to be able to properly thank him for his work. Besides, it had been nearly two months since…

It had been nearly two months. The bruises were gone. That jerk was gone.

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Keith let his head hang for a second. Just for a moment, just so he could breathe in – hold – breathe out. It didn’t calm the tingling in his gut. Sighing one last time, Keith finally made himself turn fully towards the mirror. A brief, delirious thought of Please let me have turned into a vampire crossed his mind, but by then he’d already seen the image reflected back at him.

It made him exhale shakily. His eyebrows scrunched, chin wobbling. His next inhale was stuttered, yet he couldn’t drag his eyes away. They raved all over, from the arms that used to showcase well trained muscles, to the pecs that used to be more defined, the stomach that no longer bore the lines of effort or the chub on his hips. The slimmed cheeks, the huge bags underneath his eyes, the…

Keith ripped the hair tie out, raking his fingers through his hair and parting it so most of it was towards the right. The long locks fell over his eye, all the way towards his jaw. If the glaringly bright gauze hadn’t been there, he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell there was a mark underneath. Honestly, James did a really good job.

He’d known. Of course he’d known that being cooped up in the apartment, lying in bed or on the couch most of the day wasn’t how he was going to maintain his physique. He’d known he was letting go of his exercise routine, his dietary regimen, his hard work. James and Lotor had even told him so, before the incident at the beach.

Of course, the feeling of obstruction whenever he tried to eat wasn’t helping his case. How could he think of food, when a mouthful reminded him of lying on a bed, head over the side? How could he finish his plate, when every bite he tried to swallow took him back to waking up to a nightmare?

So yes, Keith had known he wasn’t going to look the same. He just hadn’t thought of what he would change into.

The tips of his fingers trailed down his chest and abdomen, despising the soft give, the lack of definition, the feeling of something missing.

At the same time, however, he was relieved.

He was nearly unrecognizable. The figure was gone, the iconic mullet had been grown out, his skin was no longer untarnished. Instead of his old bird’s nest, James had actually done something nice with his hair, something he didn’t mind looking at. He wasn’t who he used to be, and it showed. He wasn’t the same boy who got taken home from a bar. He was no longer the person that jerk had wanted to have. No longer the boy with a necklace of bruises.

Too bad your face won’t stay pretty for long.

And they were right, but on the other hand…

You’re so pretty like this.

At least no one could say that to him anymore.

A wet nose pressed itself against Keith’s hand, pulling his attention down. There, looking expectant, was Kosmo. A quick glance at the door revealed that Kosmo had wormed himself between the slight gap James had left to seek out his owner. With a crooked smile, Keith dropped to his knees, rubbing behind Kosmo’s ears with both hands.

‘Hey buddy,’ Keith said. ‘Good job. What do you think of the hair?’ Kosmo leaned forward a bit, sniffing Keith’s face, before letting out a chuff. Keith chuckled, bringing Kosmo in to peck him on his forehead. ‘I think so too. C’mon, let’s find the others.’ Together, they walked back towards the living room, where James and Lotor were seated, looking through Kosmo’s file. Dropping himself onto the ground, Keith leaned back against the couch, Kosmo sitting down beside him.

‘Find anything good?’ He asked.

Lotor looked over, his mouth opened to say something, before his gaze quite obviously appraised James’s handiwork. Finally, he nodded. ‘Looks good.’

‘Thanks,’ Keith reached out to Kosmo to pet him again, though he looked over at James in the chair. ‘I think so too. Thanks, James.’

James beamed. ‘No problem!’

‘So we were just looking through Kosmo’s previous training a little,’ Lotor explained, drawing Keith and Kosmo’s attention. ‘I know Lucy’s already discussed it with you in general terms, but we were just curious what exactly he’s been doing.’ Leaning over to look at the file Lotor was holding, Keith nodded. Since picking up Kosmo four days ago, Lucy had already made a house-visit and they got to talking about Kosmo some more. Keith already knew that Kosmo was initially in training for police dogs, but it was interesting to hear how that connected to his therapy dog training. After training with the police for eight months, practicing obedience, endurance and agility, they only realized his fit wasn’t right when they moved on to specialty training. After all this, though, he was pretty much ready to pass the obedience test required for therapy dogs and only had to wait until he was a year old to do so. After that, Kosmo got his therapy dog training and just needed to be matched.

‘Look what we found, though.’ Lotor called Keith’s attention, pointing to the top of the page he was holding, wearing a large grin as he did. There, it read “Date of birth: October 24^th”.

Wide-eyed, Keith looked up at Kosmo (who in turn, smiled back at Keith with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth), and then Lotor. ‘My dog’s birthday is a day after mine.’

‘Your dog’s birthday is a day after yours! What kind of coincidence is that!’ James answered before Lotor could, with a lot more enthusiasm than Keith’s statement had shown. Meaning? Exactly the same. Delivery? Much better.

Looking back at Kosmo, Keith smiled as wide as his bandage allowed, and conveyed his enthusiasm in the form of a good scratch behind Kosmo’s ears.

Hope his birthday went better than mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthe-

Clutching their hair, Pidge paced around their kitchen table, their laptop still displaying the messages they’d found.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholy-

Pidge screeched to a halt, their shaking hands lowering back down. What do I do now?

They wanted to march right up to Keith’s apartment, or call him, call Lance, call everyone. But they couldn’t do that. They had to be smart this time. And were they even right? What if they were – once again – drawing conclusions prematurely?

But the texts had mentioned police involvement, and they did know someone who worked at the police.

Someone who’d mentioned a new case she’d been working on around the right time.

Ina. I need to call Ina. They needed to know if they did understand the situation. Correctly this time. Because if this was true…

‘Hey Pidge,’ Startled, Pidge focused on the phone against their ear, pulled right out of their thoughts. ‘What’s up?’

‘Ina, hi…’ They trailed off, biting their lip, debating what to say. “Hey, did you happen to come across something at work saying my friend was assaulted?”?  “Hey, remember that friend I told you about, who cheated? Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t cheating, but assault?”?

‘Pidge? Are you okay?’ Ina sounded worried now and dammit, this was not the kind of person Pidge was. They always knew what to say, they always had their mind made up and their facts straight. They had a way with words that was better than this.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Pidge finally blurted out, mentally facepalming themselves. A way with words, huh? An off-route one maybe.

Pidge didn’t blame her when Ina’s voice turned hesitant. ‘Tell you…? About what?’

‘About my fri-,’ They cut themselves off. ‘About that guy I know! Why didn’t you tell me what happened?’

A beat. ‘Oh, that famous guy I didn’t even know was your friend, you mean?’

Their stomach coiled, and they knew they should calm down, but then again… Answers. ‘Yes! You could have told me back then!’

‘Well, you figured out something was wrong on your own. How did he react when you tried to talk to him?’ Ina asked calmly, her serene voice and open questioning doing a great job of taking the wind right out of Pidge’s sails.

‘I didn't exactly talk to him. Yet. I...’ Pidge sat back down at their kitchen table, behind their computer, staring at the image reflected back at them in the screen. ‘I wanted to know if I'm correct this time first…’

‘If you didn't talk to him, what did you do?’

Biting their lip, Pidge felt their cheeks heat up. ‘I just hacked his phone to check if what I found out is true or not.’

‘You did what?’ Pidge wasn’t sure what startled them more: Ina’s calm façade breaking to let some frustration through; or Pidge’s defensiveness at the confrontation of their own actions.

‘What? It's not like it’s hard.’

‘You know that's a massive invasion of privacy right? Why didn't you just talk to him?'

Trailing their fingers across the mousepad, Pidge stubbornly insisted: ‘And say what, "hey Keith, I know we haven't been talking but did you happen to get assaulted"?’

‘How about just starting with a “hey Keith, can we talk?” and going from there?’

‘I just… I want to be sure I’m right this time. And you know what happened, don’t you?’

A sigh came from the other side of the line. ‘Pidge, you know I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. Confidentiality is a thing and I’m taking it seriously.’ Her voice softened. ‘But as your friend, I would say that you should go with your gut feeling in this case.’

Their gut feeling. Alright. Alrightalrightalright. I can do that. So that would be…

‘I need to find him.’

They could hear the smile in Ina’s voice when she said: ‘That sounds like a good idea.’

Even when the two had rounded up their conversation, Pidge just stared at their darkened screen. How were they even going to go about this? Should they call Keith first, or just show up? Organize some meeting somewhere? Should they go about this alone, or talk to the others first? Or would that only cause more trouble?

What could they even do?

They were startled from their thoughts when the phone in their hand started to ring. Startled even more so when they saw the caller-ID. Adam? Why would Adam be calling them? Frowning, they stared a little too long at their phone, before hesitantly answering it.

‘Hello?’

‘Pidge? It’s Adam. Look, I know things are really messed up right now and I know it’s been too long but something’s gotta give. I need to find Keith.’

Well, that was unexpected. ‘Wh-’

‘I don’t care how you feel about him right now; I need your help finding him ‘cause I can’t do it on my own. Be mad at me all you want, I don’t care, just help me figure out where he is? I just really need to find him.’

For a second, Pidge sat, gawking. Their previous whirlwind of considerations and worries started to lift and shift into a more clear plan, now that they had Adam’s request. Then: ‘I agree.’

This time, it was Adam who paused. If he’d been with Pidge at the moment, they bet he’d be gaping at them right now. Adam had probably expected them to resist the idea, given how angry (and blinded) they’d been up until today.

‘Oh,’ Adam sighed, as if he’d finally stopped holding his breath. ‘That’s great! So I’ve been by his apartment but I heard from the neighbors that he hasn’t been back there in a while. I know we could call or text, but… Well, I think a real-life conversation would be better, you know? Talk in person?’

Fidgeting with a loose thread on their sweater, Pidge dug back that sense of indignation they’d been feeling. ‘Yeah. We’ve all made a huge mistake. I’m not sure how much you know…’ They hesitated. They shouldn’t say anything that might imply to Adam what happened, right? They couldn’t take that choice away from Keith. They’ve already done that enough. ‘Anyway, things aren’t what we thought they were, and I really need to apologize to him.’

‘Okay. So find him.’

Nodding to themselves, Pidge already grabbed their laptop, ready to go to work. ‘When I do,’ Not if. Because they would find Keith, and they would beg for a chance to make things right. ‘What are you going to say to him?’

A soft chuckle floated through the line. ‘No,’ Adam said, ‘What are you going to say to him?’

And well, wasn’t that just the million dollar question. Well, at least Pidge would still have some time to think about that while they found out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grabbing a new beer from the fridge, Lance stared at it for a little bit, stomach churning at the thought of the conversation he decided should come. Shiro was over at Lance’s again and the latter desperately wanted to talk to someone about the phone call he’d had with Kolivan over a week ago. The things Kolivan had said…

He needed you then and he needs you now.

You all should have known him and stood by him, or at least let him explain.

The way he’d spoken about Shiro’s ex too, it just didn’t sit right with Lance. He’d started to suspect that things hadn’t been much of a romantic I’ve-always-been-in-love-with-you-and-here’s-our-chance-so-let’s-run-away-together-situation with Keith, but that there was more beneath the surface. He’d encountered the pictures again that Shiro’s ex had posted of him and Keith together. They’d been removed from Twitter due to them containing “inappropriate content”, but by then other people had already started re-posting them everywhere, causing them to resurface every once in a while. Still, when Lance saw those pictures again yesterday, he hadn’t wanted to look at them much. Even though he and Keith had been together, he didn’t feel like he should’ve been able to see them and their… content whenever he wanted. They hadn’t been meant for him, and he believed such things should be kept private between a consenting couple. (Unless they were meant for him, in which case he definitely didn’t want to look at them).

Even so, he found himself searching. What he was looking for, he wasn’t too sure. Some kind of sign, perhaps? Something that would make sense with what Kolivan had been saying? Something to make his jumbled thoughts click?

But he hadn’t been able to see Keith’s face in any of them, couldn’t infer what Keith had been thinking at the time. His body looked relaxed in them, and that’s all Lance could gather before he made himself look away from the pictures. He’d felt his stomach churning, clashing thoughts of “I shouldn’t be looking at this” and “what am I even looking for?”.

‘Lance?’

‘That’s me!’ Lance turned around, startled out of his thoughts. Shiro raised a perfect eyebrow at him. ‘Wh… right, here! Beer!’ He paused. ‘And something else that rhymes with those!’

Eyebrows dipping into a frown, Shiro hesitantly reached out for one of the bottles. ‘Right… Are you okay?’

Open mouthed, Lance hesitated. How do you even start such a conversation? “Hey remember when your ex-boyfriend slept with my boyfriend, who happens to be your brother, and we shut them both out? Yeah I kinda wanna reach out because I think something’s off about the situation and his agent told me so too”?

‘Lance?’ Shiro was beginning to sound worried, setting his beer bottle on the counter.

It struck a chord in Lance, how quick that worry was to surface for Lance while he knew it would disappear just as quickly when he voiced his thoughts. How quickly it would morph into something darker, some other expression that never used to have any place on Shiro’s face when it came to his brother.

Lance could feel his heartbeat in his throat by now.  He just had to… do it. Say something. Anything. Well, not anything. He couldn’t exactly just start talking about the weather when that was an entirely different direction than where he wanted to take this conversation. This is why he even invited Shiro in the first place.

Come on, McClain. Get a grip.

‘I called Kolivan,’ He blurted, suave as he was. Nice one.

He could tell Shiro was taken aback. His grip on the bottle had tightened, as had his expression. His eyes had hardened, and he squared his shoulders. ‘Alright.’ Shiro ground out, teeth gritted. Not asking why Lance brought it up.

‘He said… Keith needed us, and still does. He said we should’ve “known him and stood by him”, that we should’ve let him explain. He didn’t have very nice things to say about… your ex.’

He could see Shiro shutting down, shuttering closed. ‘Well, I’m not surprised. Someone who sleeps with their ex’s brother the day of the breakup isn’t exactly rom-com material.’

Lance slowly moved closer to Shiro, but the latter noticed and picked up his drink, turning to move back to the couch in the living room. ‘Alright,’ Lance brazed on, ‘that’s fair I guess. But then what he said about Keith-’

‘I’m not exactly surprised he’s taking his side.’ Shiro snapped. ‘Kolivan gets paid by Keith, of course there’s some loyalty there. Doesn’t have to mean anything.’

Lance’s gaze sharpened a little, uncomfortable warmth roiling in his gut. ‘And what about the other things he said? That we’ve hurt Keith, that we should’ve talked to him? Should’ve known him?’

‘And what?’ Shiro set his bottle down a bit too harshly, but neither paid much attention. ‘Have Keith tell us exactly why he decided to sleep with my ex? Are you so desperate to hear he doesn’t love you, or me? Do you really want to hear him reject you?’

‘I want to know why, Shiro!’ I shouldn’t be raising my voice. ‘I want to hear his side, and I want to understand and I want to know that we’re not wrong!’ Forcing himself to lower his voice, Lance breathed deeply, shaking with the effort not to explode. ‘Look, what if we are wrong? What if something else happened that night?’

With a couch between them, Lance felt a little protected from the bulging muscles Shiro showcased when he crossed his arms. ‘Like what? He didn’t sleep with him? That was someone else in those pictures? They were just friendly wrestling?’

‘God, I don’t know!’ Lance threw up his arms, partly cutting off Shiro. ‘But you know who does? Keith! He could answer all these questions and-‘

‘God, Lance, you’re so naïve!’

‘And you’re being a jerk!’ Lance could see the chords in Shiro’s neck tighten as his nostrils flared, but Lance soldiered on before the other could yell back. ‘What are you so afraid of? You’ve been moping and angry and lashing out at everyone and you keep shooting down even the possibility of gathering the whole picture- ’

‘Why can’t you just let him go? It’s clear he doesn’t care about any of us-’

‘But doesn’t he?’ Lance interjected, but Shiro continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

‘-so why do you insist on clinging to him?’

Walking around the couch, Lance pointed a finger at Shiro. ‘Well why are you so adamant to imagine all the ways Keith’s been apparently planning to betray you?’

‘Because that’s all I can do!’ Shiro exploded. ‘Because all I can do is imagine my little brother, who’s been with me through everything,’ He knocked his hand into Lance’s chest, ‘fucking the man I loved.’ Lance opened his mouth, eyes wide, but Shiro trudged on, tapping Lance’s chest again. ‘And I can’t stop imagining all the ways I could have prevented it because I fucking saw it coming a mile away, and I didn’t even do anything!’ Another prod. ‘I knew there was something there and I just turned the other way, and I…’ Shiro rested his hand on Lance’s chest, no doubt feeling how his heart was still beating like crazy. Their eyes met, but instead of the angry blazing Lance had been seeing throughout their argument, Shiro’s eyelids had sagged, his gaze a little unfocused instead of the clear focus from before. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘Shiro…’ Lance debated briefly whether he should be putting his hand on Shiro’s, or on his shoulder or anything, but in the end, he just kept his hands by his side. ‘You can’t get hung up on that. You have to…’

Shiro scoffed, dropping his hand as he turned partly away from Lance. Hey, at least we’re not yelling anymore. ‘I have to move on, right? That’s what you want to say? Well what if we do talk to Keith, and you talk it out and apparently he didn’t mean to or whatever. My ex still wanted us to think they did sleep together, so then what?’ Shiro turned back to face Lance, his eyes getting less droopy again. ‘You get your boyfriend back, but what do I get?’

Feeling his eyebrows raise practically into his damn hairline, Lance gaped at Shiro, his thoughts screaming at him a mix of “this bitch” and “are you kidding me?”, before he spluttered: ‘Uhm, your brother?’ Was that not enough or something?

‘Look, Lance,’ Shiro started, shoulders tense as he grabbed his coat. Well, guess he’s leaving then. Then, a more bitter part: it’s all he does lately. ‘Do whatever you want. I just don’t want any part in it.’ He opened the door, turning back to Lance with a smile that was a little too tightly pressed together. Then, ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’ as if they hadn’t been yelling at each other not even a minute ago.

Shiro closed the door behind him before Lance could even think to form a response that properly conveyed the utter level of what the fuck? he was feeling.

Man, the audacity.

Well, at least this dumb argument had made Lance a little more sure that he should reach out to Keith. Maybe he shouldn’t have felt that way after arguing with someone, but the amount of backpedaling from Shiro had only made him more sure.

Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder if he truly was the only one in their friend group who wanted to reach out to Keith. He couldn’t be, right? And if he was, was he really just thinking this way because he and Keith used to be romantically involved? Could his views be so skewed? Or were the others in the wrong and just too stubborn to look past their own distorted vision?

Dropping down onto the couch, downing his own bottle of beer before grabbing Shiro’s practically full one and pulling that one closer to himself as well.

He couldn’t exactly talk to Pidge. Usually, they were the one he could go to if he needed to think things through logically, but Pidge had been pretty up there with Shiro on the pissed-at-Keith-scale. One argument was enough, thank you very much. So no, Pidge was out for now.

Adam was another option, considering he came to the hospital and possibly still cared at least a little, which was more than Lance knew about any of the others. Still, Adam was Shiro’s friend and that felt a little like going behind Shiro’s back.

That left Hunk and Allura. Hunk was Lance’s best friend, so the latter couldn’t exactly say he was miffed about that outcome. Hunk was his buddy, he should’ve been the first Lance wanted to talk to anyway. Allura could be too sure of her ways sometimes, so Lance figured he’d try Hunk first, not that that wasn’t what he’d want to do regardless. His buddy was sweet, and gentle, and forgiving. If anyone else was up for contacting Keith, it’d be Hunk. Right?

So, sipping the stolen beer – though, was it really stolen when he bought it in the first place? – Lance video called his bestie, figuring he should do this right away before he lost his nerve. And it wasn’t that late yet anyway.

‘Buddy!’ Hunk cried as he picked up, huge warm smile filling Lance’s screen. Immediately, Lance could feel himself start to breathe again, his shoulders drooping before he realized he’d even drawn them up.

‘Hey Hunk,’ Lance smiled, ‘you got some time?’

Walking around his home, Hunk divided his attention between his phone and the direction he was walking in. ‘For you, always! I do have Allura over though, is that okay?’

‘Hey Lance!’ Was called, right on cue, by the accented female voice Lance immediately recognized as said friend’s, even though he couldn’t see her. Well, guess I didn’t have to choose anyway.

‘No problem,’ Lance reassured. ‘But am I interrupting anything? What were you guys doing?’

‘We were baking!’ An excited Allura proclaimed, popping up on the screen over Hunk’s shoulder, the gentle giant amicably moving himself and the camera to allow her into view.

‘Allura and I were talking about how she wanted to do something for her uncle’s anniversary of owning his shop,’ Explained Hunk, ‘so I offered to help her bake something.’

Feeling a smile take over his face, Lance relaxed further into the couch. ‘Oh wow, that’s awesome! You do know I’ll have to taste test everything before you can give it to him, right?’ When both of his friends laughed, Lance grinned even wider. ‘What? Maybe it’s poisoned!’

Allura gasped in offense. ‘I’m not that bad!’

She and Hunk shared a look, Allura getting a nod of confirmation from her teacher. ‘Besides,’ Said teacher turned back towards his screen. ‘I’m here to guide her through it. You saying you don’t trust me?’ Lifting his eyebrow in mock challenge, Hunk’s eyes scrunched in laughter.

‘No!’ Lance laughed. ‘I mean, I do trust you!’

‘Anyway,’ Allura’s gentle voice broke through, ‘what’s up?’

Immediately, Lance felt his lightened mood damp a little again. ‘Right.’ And so he told them exactly what he’d told Shiro: how he called Kolivan and what he’d said, that he’s considering reaching out to Keith to actually talk things out. And as he talked, he felt the weight on his shoulders start to lift, more and more sure that surely, this is the right decision, and Hunk and Allura would agree and tell him he was right and this could make things right.

But instead, Hunk and Allura shared another look, this one more uncomfortable than the one before, when they were still just discussing baking. And Lance regretfully wished that he’d done this face to face, even though he knew he wouldn’t have deciphered that look even then. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably, seeing his best friend, who he could read like an open book and shared everything with, make an expression he couldn’t discern.

His heart sank. Was he losing him too? Was this balancing act going to end with the two sides still separated, and Lance on neither side on the bottom of some cliff? He felt off kilter, strangely put off at the realization that maybe, after all, he would be wrong and he wouldn’t be reconciled with Keith and in the process of trying, he’d also lose these people.

‘Look,’ Hunk started, turning back to Lance with furrowed eyebrows, strangely unsure. ‘It’s really sweet that you wanted to check up on Keith, but please make sure you keep your own well-being in mind.’

Allura chimed in then. ‘Yes. I mean, what happened to him last week was awful and I feel sorry for him, but we’ve cut ties.’

Frowning, Lance stared down at the bottle in his hand, so many thoughts swirling through his head that his mouth had trouble picking out the words to say.

‘He…’ Lance started out, hesitantly. ‘… did a terrible thing – cheating on me I mean – but it was us, uh, our side, who severed those ties.’ He looked back at his phone. ‘Or did you guys hear him out?’ Both of his friends shook their heads, looks of pity on their faces. ‘We don’t know what he had to say about it.’ Lance finished, a lame attempt at trying to state his point.

‘Because we agreed not to.’ Allura chided, sounding as if she was explaining to a three year old why they couldn’t get the toy they wanted.

Lance blinked. Blinked again, his heart racing as it geared back up to get into another argument because goddammit not again. ‘That was your decision. One that you made behind my back to keep things from me.’

He could see Hunk open his mouth, shifting uncomfortably in the screen, but Lance kept his eyes on Allura, who was already opening her mouth again. ‘I apologize that we did not inform you, but I do stand by the decision we made. We all agreed that it was best for you to not be confronted by what happened all the time.’

‘But do we actually know what happened?’ Seeing the skeptical looks on his friends’ faces, Lance quickly continued: ‘Maybe we should just call him and hear him out, hear his side of the story, ya know?’ Fiddling with the label on his bottle, Lance could feel the doubt set in. Even he could recognize how desperate he sounded.

Before Allura could cut in again, this time Hunk spoke up, his voice gentle and soothing. ‘It’s just… You were really hurt last time and we just don’t want to see you have to go through something like that again.’

‘But you didn’t hear how Kolivan talked about Shiro’s ex, I really think there might be more to the story than we know, you know? What if something else happened that we don’t know about because we never asked him?’

Again, Allura and Hunk shared a look. Lance chewed on his bottom lip, feeling a stinging build up behind his eyes. Man, I could just about tear my hair out right about now.

But by now Lance could also feel the butterflies in his stomach, a fluttering mix of what if I’m right but also what if I’m wrong.

‘Buddy…’ Another look shared. ‘… I know you badly want to be right, but… what if you’re wrong? You’re such a nice guy and you care so deeply. I’d hate for that goodness to be the cause of more heartbreak where it’s not needed, you know?’

‘We know you want things to go back to how they were,’ Allura added, softly now, her kaleidoscope eyes getting as watery as Lance’s own. ‘We just hope it’s not… Well, false hope driving you. We know you love him, we’re just scared that’s why you’re maybe seeing things… differently. Maybe it’s time to accept what happened and try to get over him?’

But I don’t want to get over him, Lance didn’t say. Am I really being that blind? He didn’t ask. He didn’t tell them he was ready to just call Keith up until they made him shake in his foundation. He didn’t tell them he was considering just going up to Keith’s apartment and finally be done with this whole thing.

‘Okay, thanks.’ Is what he said instead, shooting off one last smile that none of them believed before ending the call. He dropped his arm over his eyes, hearing his phone thud onto the couch beside him. A scream built in his throat, but he didn’t allow it to come out.

He’d been so sure. He knew he still wanted Keith back, or at least some kind of closure, but maybe he should wait, if all of his friends were so against it? Was he really just too emotional and too attached?

Peeking back at his phone from beneath his arm, he absentmindedly took another drink from the nearly empty bottle in his hand.

Maybe that can be my closure, he thought. There’s no problem with just finding out, he figured, and he could decide what to do after that, after being sure if he had been biased this whole time or if he was onto something. After that, if he still wanted to talk to Keith and the hurt wasn’t so fresh anymore, when he could go into it with a more open mind, he could consider it again.

Gather data first, he settled on, feeling like Pidge could be proud of that. He could find out through Keith, but since his friends were so against that (and to be honest, he was kind of scared of it too), he could try Kolivan again. Ask some questions. Investigate. And then… maybe Keith himself, because he didn’t see a way to move on if he didn’t talk to him himself. And really, what could happen if he did?

Okay, maybe… Maybe I’m right and there’s more and Keith actually does have a good explanation and then I’ll be the asshole no-good boyfriend who wasn’t there for Keith and I’m an awful human being.

Lance shook his head, stomach churning again. Then again, maybe he’ll find out that he really was wrong, and Keith really just didn’t want him anymore. Calling Keith could clarify that in one swoop and prove:

1. a) Keith didn’t love him back and was over him,
   b) Lance was an idiot for thinking otherwise,
   c) Keith saw that Lance is still an idiot who's hopelessly in love with him and Lance was just making a fool out of himself

Catching himself with his nails ready to be bitten, Lance groaned and slid down his couch, killing his back in the process.

Okay okay okay. Actual worst case scenario:  Keith really did cheat and I’m holding on to hope for the wrong person. That was… Hurtful, but he could move on from that. Probably.

Of course, there was a worse scenario, one that had passed by fleetingly, one that could explain the pictures but also the fact that there was something more, but that couldn’t be true. That kind of thing was the kind of scenario Lance heard about on the news, or whispered in a bar. It was the kind of thing his mother warned his sisters about, that he warned his sisters about, but…

Anyway, Lance sat up, shrugging. Either way, it was time to get down to business, and that, no matter how scary it’d be, would include some type of confrontation. And perhaps Lance was a coward for taking the easier route and talking to Kolivan first instead of manning up and going right for the source, and maybe his friends were right and all of this would turn out to be the worst decision he could’ve made and he shouldn’t have even considered it, but… This could also possibly be the right way to do this. And as long as that was still on the table, he’d have to try.

Right?

Chapter Text

CW: nightmare that ties into both assault and the beach-encounter

Chapter fifteen

The boat rocked gently along the waves, the sunlight a warm blanket that only further added to the gentle feeling lulling Keith into unconsciousness. He stretched lazily on the sunbed, considering whether he should turn around now or if he could stand a few more minutes of sun on his front. Not that he could ever tan as well as Lance, he’d more likely turn into a lobster, but maybe those few minutes would be crucial in his attempt to not look like a ghost all the time.

Burrowing back into the seat, he watched the seagulls flying through the cloudless sky, trailing them with his eyes until his gaze reached the seam between sky and water. It was almost impossible to discern where one ended and the other began, their colors so similar and no landmarks in sight to allow for any cheating.

‘You might want to reapply some sunscreen, baby.’ An amused voice filtered in above the sound of distant seagulls and waves crashing against the hull of the ship. Lifting himself up on one elbow, Keith perched his sunglasses up on his forehead to take in the sight before him.

And what a sight it was. Sunkissed skin, windswept hair, eyes rivaling the very sea they sailed upon in their hue.

Keith hummed, eyes hungrily taking up every detail of Lance McClain he could find. ‘You offering to help?’ He really did look good, sporting the bright red swimming trunks he’d stolen from Keith, the latter, in turn, wearing the royal blue pair.

Grinning, Lance put his knee on the bed, dragging his hands over the exposed thighs on either side of him. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

Swallowing harshly, Keith felt his smile fade as he took in the wide shoulders looming over him. Something was nagging at him in the back of his mind while Keith tensed at the other’s hands grabbing him by the bare hips. My trunks?

The words on his tongue died as he looked back up to find brown eyes looking right back at him, a maniacal grin on his face. ‘Such a pretty boy,’ He whispered, ‘Too bad you’re so ruined now.’

Whimpering, Keith scrambled to get away, but the sand beneath him kept being displaced where he’d needed it to provide solid ground to push off of. It was much too easy for the other to pin him in place, bending over him and wrapping his tight grip around his wrist.

‘No worries though,’ He whispered in Keith’s ear, a horrifying grind starting up against Keith’s hips, ‘I’ll still want you.’ Licking up the side of Keith’s face, a burning trail was left behind, a choked scream trapped in a throat that wouldn’t let it out.

Rocking the bed now as he snapped his hips with renewed vigor, the boy on top of him grinned, gray eyes burning with a malevolent pleasure. ‘So good for me.’ He purred. Keith closed his eyes as his stomach swirled and heaved, trying to ignore the feeling of the sheets tangling beneath their bodies. ‘I’ll always want you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A low whining sound broke Keith from the nightmare. And that’s what it was. Just a dream, already sliding through his fingers like smoke, leaving only a lingering feeling of terror smoldering in his tense limbs. A large tongue kept lapping at Keith’s face and neck, the whining unbroken.

Still half asleep, swearing he could smell saltwater, Keith urged his heavy body to move and bury his hands in Kosmo’s fur. The black shepherd was laying down next to him on the bed, large eyes glittering in the moonlight as he registered his owner waking up.

‘I’m up,’ Keith whispered, scratching his best boy behind the ears, an automatic smile curling his lips. ‘Good job, buddy.’ He cleared his throat, getting rid of the last tension and sagging back into the mattress. Kosmo pressed his wet nose against his cheek, chuffing when Keith only continued to pet him and call him a good boy. Because he was. And his job was done now. He was up. He was fine.

‘Good boy.’ Keith whispered, dropping a final pat on Kosmo’s head before slowly raising himself out of bed. He took a quick trip to the bathroom, splashing some cold water in his face before hanging his head underneath the tap to guzzle some water down. He tiptoed past James’s room, as quiet as always. When he got to the living room, Kosmo had already made his way there, lounging on the couch and warming up their spot while Keith went off to make some tea.

For a little bit, the two sat in front of the tv, keeping the chattering on a low volume as Keith slowly sipped his drink. Kosmo had rested his head on Keith’s thigh, starting to snore from the slow, methodological stroke of Keith’s thumb between his eyebrows. Absentmindedly, Keith watched some trailer of Akira’s new romance film; a preview for an interview with some singer about a new album; some movie right in the middle of a big dramatic reunion. The images flashed before his eyes, mind only paying attention halfway.

Once he’d felt his heart rate go back to normal and his eyes start to droop, he cleared away the empty cup and made his way back to bed, hoping to maybe catch a few more hours of sleep.

Kosmo lay down on the bed with him again, letting out a happy grumble when Keith curled around him. Burying his head into the scruff of Kosmo’s neck, Keith settled in. Kosmo relaxed against him, letting out a sigh. Slowly, he was carried off to sleep again, steady in the presence of Kosmo curled in front of him and the hippo plushie at his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days passed by steadily, Kosmo and Keith getting used to each other still, though it had been nearly two weeks by now. Though Kosmo’s walks forced Keith to go back outside again multiple times per day, Kosmo’s persevering protective streak gave him some peace of mind in that regard. James and Lotor had been joining him for the first days, but by now Keith was slowly coming around to doing them on his own.

He wasn’t really sure how he would ever repay James for arranging everything with Kosmo, but seeing the way James lit up whenever he found Keith and Kosmo cuddling; or the way James softened when he saw the two at work, maybe that was enough.

That didn’t mean Keith didn’t spend extra time in the kitchen, making sure to perfect James’s favorites.

Even Lotor enjoyed the new addition to their little family, having gotten his own food and water bowls for Kosmo so he could comfortably join Keith at Lotor’s whenever they wanted. With Kosmo as his focus and Lotor as his guide, Keith’s moments of high stress were getting easier to navigate and he found himself rolling his shoulders without wincing, the tension in his muscles slowly subsiding.

Getting used to walking outside with only Kosmo was… an experience. One time when some guy approached much too enthusiastically to ask if Keith was “the Keith Kogane” and wanted to know if James and Keith were on a date, Kosmo had raised his hackles and stood protectively in front of the pair. Since, Keith felt assured that he and Kosmo would be fine. He did still save the dog park for weekend days though, so either James and Lotor could stay by his side when Kosmo took a break to play fetch.

Even so, Keith walked the fine line of enjoying getting to go outside again, hoping to stay out longer; while simultaneously looking over his shoulder and wishing he was inside again. He did have to admit that Kosmo was a very good motivator to get out of bed in the mornings, and it gave him things to do so he wouldn’t get sucked in another gossip-forum to lose his mind to.

He got to enjoy taking a breath of fresh air, even if his jaw was sore from grinding his teeth while he was out. He got some company in the late hours of nights he didn’t get to sleep through; someone to talk to in the apartment when James was working, even if there was never a reply.

He was turning on the radio more often if he was home alone, hearing Kosmo tapping his feet behind him as he screamed along to songs about heartbreak. More and more often, he found himself opening his phone to a contact he knew he wouldn’t reach, debating leaving a voicemail that wouldn’t be heart. At random moments, he found himself sighing, trying to air out the heaviness inside. He even debated calling his parents, just so he could for once be the one to do the explaining, just so someone could hear him, hoping these words would dislodge what was sitting on his chest.

But the nights he spent up, trying not to focus on the feeling of sheets twisting beneath him or the thoughts running through his mind; or the moments Kosmo’s whining and Lotor’s clever tricks weren’t enough – those were the moments Keith found himself doubting.

He fiddled with a card, heart hammering, and thought of silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d spent the afternoon at Lotor’s, listening to him playing the cello while thoughtfully staring at the piano in the second bedroom of the apartment. The mournful sounds of Lotor’s newest symphony haunted him even past the threshold of the place Keith and James shared. Even so, the slow notes resonated with something that had taken hold in his chest, vibrating until he could no longer contain it.

Mindlessly scratching Kosmo behind the ear, Keith turned the card in his hand over and over, sighing as he came to a decision.

James passed by behind him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head as he whispered a short “good night”. Keith found himself smiling, glancing as his roommate kept walking and Keith didn’t even flinch. It warmed him and surprised him at the same time that it really wasn’t anything special.

But he also still had words to say, before he would bury them and never let them be said.

‘Hey James?’ Keith called, making his roommate halt in his bedroom door’s threshold, turning to give Keith his attention.

‘Yeah?’

Gnawing at his lip, Keith smoothed his hands over his jeans just so they would stop shaking before looking up between his lashes. ‘Remember that conversation we had about the psychologist?’

James’s eyebrows rose, ever so slightly. His next “yeah” was even more questioning.

Despite the nerves, Keith found his mouth pulling into a slight smile. ‘I think I’m gonna give them a call. Soon.’

James’s answering smile was blinding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandwiched between Lotor and Kosmo, Keith made good on his promise the very next day, dialing the number of the psychologist’s office Nadia had recommended. Despite knowing he’d be put on a waitlist and wouldn’t actually get to go yet, just the fact that it was arranged had Keith relaxing. The three of them celebrated by indulging in a space documentary that was just released. They couldn’t finish it in time before Lotor had to leave, but the latter promised to finish it next time they saw each other.

After taking Kosmo for another walk, Keith spent the rest of his afternoon on the couch, Kosmo cuddled up next to him, looking up some new recipes on his phone. Though he had to actively hold back from going on Twitter, he could push that attention to the back of his mind as he wondered about maybe going grocery shopping so he could try something new for dinner that night.

Kosmo’s head rising off of its perch in Keith’s lap was a timely warning they got before the doorbell rang. Petting his dog’s head between the still swiveling ears, Keith rose off of the couch to make his way to the door, Kosmo trotting at his heels. He didn’t think too much of it, assuming it was probably someone delivering a parcel or someone who was on the wrong floor or something.

But when he opened the door, he was met with two pairs of wide amber eyes, roving over his form just as he did with them.

Before he slammed the door.

Pidge and Adam were here. They’d found him. How? Why? Why now? What do they want?

Feeling his heart pounding inside his chest, he walked backwards. Kosmo was whining at him yet still standing between him and the door, pressing his snout against Keith’s thigh. What did they want from him, were they coming to expose where he lived now? Why did they even take the time to find out where he was as if he was actually worth any second of their time? Did they want something from him, need him to do something?

‘Keith,’ Came Pidge’s voice, sending a jolt through Keith’s entire body. He hadn’t heard that voice in nearly two months. Hadn’t had any correspondence since they’d told him he should’ve “kept it in his pants”. Since they’d blocked him. Iced him out completely.

And he thought he’d been doing fine, too. Today had been a good day. While it wasn’t perfect, he’d finally felt like he was starting to pick up the pieces. And now this?

There was a knock on the door. He’d expected them to be pounding, raising their voices. But they weren’t?

‘Keith please, we just want to talk.’ They whispered.

They wanted to talk.

Now they wanted to talk? After they’d dumped him and publicly rubbed salt in his wounds? After he’d tried to talk to them and had the attempt thrown right in his face? When he could finally start to slowly go back to doing things he used to be able to do all the time? Just when he felt he’d taken a step forward by calling that psychologist’s office? Now?

‘You want to talk?’ He seethed, not really realizing when he’d even decided to open the door. Kosmo was at his side, drawing their attention as his hackles raised and teeth bared. Good boy. He rested his hand on Kosmo’s head, scratching between his ears. But he didn’t call him off.

‘Oh, shit,’ Pidge muttered, moving back from the door. Their eyes were focused on the dog, flickering between him and Keith, as if wanting to ask if they were safe. Keith almost laughed at that.

Adam’s eyebrows pinched together. ‘Yes, we do. We were wrong and we were worried and we-’

Keith worked his jaw, but at that last part. Oh man, his blood was beginning to boil. ‘You…’ He spoke, lowly, ‘… You were worried?’

Adam’s mouth shut with an audible click, but at least he and Pidge had the decency to look chided.

‘Keith…’

So where was your worry when I needed it? When I reached out for help and you threw it back in my face? When I was hospitalized and the people to come for me weren’t the people I’ve known a lifetime?

Kosmo pressed his head against his thigh, whining low. Keith unclenched his fist, but the jackrabbit pace of his heart had him flashing hot. Where was my best friend when I needed them? He screamed inside his head, but he kept his mouth clenched shut. In all his time inside this apartment, he’d thought of this moment often. He’d imagined all kinds of scenarios; had rehearsed what he would say and put together entire speeches. Still, he’d never quite figured out how he’d react, so even though many thoughts roamed about, he still had no clue which of those to pick.

He could feel their heavy gazes on the scar on his cheek, which was no longer covered by gauze at this point. Keith knew it still stuck out like a sore thumb, and probably always would. He quickly raked his fingers through the hair that at this point no longer qualified as bangs, falling back on using a section to cover the right side of his face.

‘I came for you,’ Adam whispered, ‘when I saw you were in the hospital. I came for you, but you’d already left.’

Keith didn’t even know how to process this. He narrowed his eyes. ‘Well congratu-fucking-lations. What, want me to give you an award now? Do you think that makes any of this better?’

Adam looked down. ‘I’m sorry,’ He muttered. ‘That wasn’t the right thing to say.’

‘No it fucking wasn’t. I don’t even know what I want to say to you.’ He said honestly, raising his hand to the edge of the door. ‘I don’t even know if there’s even anything I want to say now.’

‘Please,’ Pidge raised their hand to stop Keith from closing the door again, flinching at Kosmo’s warning growl. ‘Let me explain?’

This door would need to be oiled soon with how much back-and-forth action it was getting.

Because Keith halted, once more, and raised his glaring eyes to Pidge’s pleading ones. ‘So I’m supposed to let you explain when you didn’t let me?’

Pidge opened their mouth a couple times, and honestly, if he wasn’t as pissed as he was, he probably would’ve gotten to enjoy seeing them speechless for once. A grim satisfaction settled over the crawling in his chest, momentarily lifting that heaviness that sat there. ‘I just…’ They trailed off, eyes darting once more to the still growling Kosmo.

‘You just what, Pidge? You want me to listen to you when you didn’t spend a second to listen to me? Want me to be reasonable when you weren’t? Why should I be the one to give you a chance when you didn’t give me the same?’

‘Keith,’ Adam spoke up, his eyes so pitying and understanding it only stoked the fire of Keith’s anger. Because he didn’t understand. And at this point, he didn’t think Adam would even have the right to.

‘No. You come here, after two months of nothing, when I’m finally starting to pick myself back up, and what? Expect to be welcomed back with open arms? Do you really think I have anything to say to you?’

‘Look Keith,’ Adam braved, raising his hands as if trying to placate him. Like he was just as dangerous as Kosmo by his side. ‘We know we were wrong and we can’t tell you how sorry we are.’ Keith scoffed, but Adam continued before he could say anything: ‘We know sorry doesn’t cut it, and we understand if you aren’t ready to forgive us, and we understand if you don’t want to see us again – yes Pidge, we do – but we just want you to know that… We want to be here for you. If you’ll let us, we want to make it right.’ Make it right? Keith screeched in his mind, wondering if the other two could see the seething fire on the side of his head. ‘We know we weren’t there for you when you needed it though, so I know you have no reason to trust us or any of what we’re saying. Just… Know that when… If you’re ready, and you want to, you can contact us and… I don’t know. Whatever you want, I guess.’

Keith raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorpost. He finally snapped his fingers twice before raising one digit, Kosmo taking the command for what it was and sitting calmly at his side.

‘Whatever I want? Well, I want you to leave this building.’

‘Wha-!’ Pidge opened their mouth in protest, but quieted at Keith’s scalding gaze.

‘Now. And if anyone finds out where I live and I get any more harassment, I’ll know who blabbed.’

Pidge huffed. ‘We wouldn’t ever share your address-‘

It was at this moment, when both Keith and Adam were about to respond (Adam probably a lot calmer than himself, Keith mused), that the door across the hall opened up. Straightening himself to his full height, Lotor towered over the two visitors.

‘Is there a problem here?’ He asked, a frigid calm in his voice that neither of the two were dumb enough to interpret as safe.

Keeping eye contact with Pidge, Keith tilted his head. ‘No,’ He answered for them, feeling his shoulders drop. ‘They were just leaving.’ Then he caught Adam’s gaze. ‘Isn’t that right?’

He could see the gears in Pidge’s head running on overtime, trying to think of any way to stay, so he made sure they locked eyes again. He raised his eyebrow. ‘Isn’t that right?’

Pidge looked down at where they were scuffing their shoe against the worn carpet, but didn’t say anything.

‘Yes,’ Adam answered slowly, putting his hand on Pidge’s shoulder, starting to steer them towards the stairs. He hesitated, seemingly steeling himself. ‘Keith, we… We will do better by you, should you decide to reach out. I know it doesn’t mean much, but… I promise you we will.’

Keith breathed in deeply, letting Lotor take his hand lest he find something heavy to throw at the pair.

He could feel Pidge’s calculating gaze on him and Lotor, but frankly, he couldn’t care less about their judgment right now. He almost wanted them to address it, tauntingly thinking come on then, ask me. Dare to mingle. Dare to judge.

But they didn’t. They just pressed their lips in a fine line, giving him an aborted pitiful wave, before Adam steered them down the stairs and out of sight.

Keith hoped the slamming of his front door gave them a jump scare.

Chapter Text

Chapter sixteen

‘So…’ Lotor drawled, standing awkwardly in the living room and staring at Keith. ‘What was that?’

Keith ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. ‘That was the person who’s… who was my best friend, and my brother’s best friend.’

Lotor hissed, absentmindedly scratching Kosmo behind an ear. ‘So, what did they want?’

‘They…’ Keith crossed his arms, letting Lotor’s hand drop from his as he frowned at the floor. ‘They said they were sorry. That they wanted to talk,’ He scoffed. ‘They said something about wanting to make it right.’

Halting, Lotor stood in silence for a few seconds before softly saying: ‘Oh,’

‘Yeah, “oh”. I just don’t know what to do with them showing up all of a sudden. Honestly, I was just talking to James about giving that psychologist’s office a call-’

His head snapping up, Lotor grinned. ‘Oh, you did?’

Feeling himself smile at Lotor’s enthusiasm, Keith peered up at him through his eyelashes. ‘Yeah,’

‘That’s great!’

Keith’s voice turned soft as he said: ‘… Yeah.’ Because it was, wasn’t it?

Lotor swept him off his feet, spinning him around excitedly. A laugh bubbled up, airy and light, and Keith couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that.

‘I’m so proud of you!’ Lotor said, still squeezing Keith close to him. Letting himself sink into the warmth, Keith smiled and tried to ignore the bitter taste still lingering on his tongue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, he should’ve known the stress of Adam and Pidge showing up would impact him. Kosmo had been warning him, he’d come to realize after, he just hadn’t recognized it as such and thought he was fine.

He had been wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he woke, he wasn’t even sure what the dream had been about. He could only remember flashes – being pressed against the counter, being bent over the lit stove and feeling the heat on his cheek, distant voices mingling into one to taunt him. Wanting to call out, to alert anyone close by – maybe Lotor would’ve heard him? – but not being able to find his voice.

Keith sat up in a stupor, staring numbly into the void of his room as tears welled up in his eyes, distorting the few shades he could make out even further. Leaden, unfeeling hands raised to his throat, icy even against his cold skin. After a rattling breath, he swallowed against the wave of nausea that pushed against his adam's apple. 

Where...? He barely heard his own thoughts over the ringing in his ears, almost missed the scratching sound - claws against wood - that came from the door. 

'No...' He whimpered, his own voice sounding distant, broken, far away. He could still feel the pressure against his back. Cold and damp, clinging to his skin, could still see the taunting curl of lips in the darkness, lips he didn't want anywhere near him. ‘So beautiful.’

'No.' The scratching didn't stop. Wouldn't stop until they got in. To hurt him again. All over again.

Launching himself out of bed, he pressed himself into a corner, relishing the feeling of his shoulder blades pressing into the unforgiving solidity of the wall. Leaning into it, he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his hands around his neck again. When he heard his door open, he flinched. Please don’t find me please just leave me alone.

Something warm and furry pressed against him; a voice, treacherously gentle, but he couldn’t recognize any of the words over the ringing in his ears and they were so close to him and they still found him after all and he didn’t want this, he wanted to leave, wanted-

‘Keith, what do you need?’

What do I need? What does it even matter what he needed, how would he even know?

He heard more whining, some garbled panicked mumbling. Was that him? He couldn’t feel the vibrations in his chest, only suffocating tension. Maybe it wasn’t him making those strange sounds? He didn’t even know anymore.

Three things you can hear.

1. Some unknown whining. 2. Someone talking – who was talking? Was it him? Wait, was Lotor here? If Lotor were here, he would know what to do. He would know if it was him talking.

‘Keith,’ Came the voice again, no less gentle but a little more pressing. ‘Please, I don’t know… What do you need?’

Having Lotor here would be a good thing. He’d wanted to call out for him anyway. He could make him disappear. He could help Keith feel safe.

‘Lotor…’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With their combined efforts, Kosmo and Lotor managed to calm Keith down. Eventually. Keith couldn’t even remember most of it anymore. He just knew he was sitting in a corner, Lotor and Kosmo in front of him, James standing anxiously in the door frame. His whole body was stiff, but it wasn’t until he looked down to see Lotor rubbing the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb that he realized he’d been clenching his fists too.

Groggily, he looked back around the room.

‘Shit.’ He said, because eloquence.

James and Lotor exhaled twin sighs of relief. ‘Welcome back,’ Lotor smiled wanly.

Keith rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I’m sorry I woke you up.’ Trembling, he pulled Kosmo into his side, the latter immediately pressing his nose against Keith’s neck.

‘I was making breakfast-’ Oh, so I didn’t wake him then. ‘-when I heard Kosmo scratching at your door,’ James said, voice thin. ‘I’m guessing the draft blew your door closed and locked him out?’

‘Oh.’

‘Do you want to come into the living room?’ Asked Lotor, brows still furrowed in concern.

Giving a pause, Keith ever so slightly pushed himself back into the wall. Though he guessed he didn’t feel quite as frantic anymore, and he didn’t even remember most of that dream, it still felt as if someone was going to grab him from behind.

Seeing him lost in thought, Lotor leaned in a little closer. ‘What do you need?’

Chewing his lip, Keith considered Lotor sitting in front of him, especially the broad frame. ‘Could you… would you mind…’

Lotor smiled encouragingly, even though Keith’s sentence tapered off without being finished. Eventually, Lotor said: ‘Whatever you need. I don’t mind.’

‘If we were to… if we go sit on the couch… could you maybe sit behind me?’

‘Of course I can. It’s no problem.’

‘I’ll go make some tea.’ James said, disappearing into the hallway. Slowly, Keith got up, allowing Lotor to stabilize him on his tingling, shaky legs. Along with Kosmo, they made their way into the living room.

‘Where do you want me?’ Lotor murmured to Keith, letting the latter orchestrate him placidly. When he was satisfied, Keith sat in between Lotor’s legs, back to Lotor’s broad chest and legs stretched out over the length of the couch. Kosmo immediately jumped up the couch as well to lay down between Keith’s legs, head resting on Keith’s stomach. Both of Keith’s hands buried themselves in Kosmo’s scruff.  This was better. This was safe. Slowly, Keith allowed himself to calm down, to turn his focus towards the shiny, black fur reflecting the light.

Just when they’d gotten situated, James walked up to wordlessly hand the others their tea,  after which he put a plate of apple slices nearby and sat down on the ground in front of the trio on the couch, leaning his head back against Lotor’s thigh.

Regretfully, Keith gave Kosmo one last cuddle before accepting the cup. Clutching his tea close to his chest, Keith let it warm his hands and the patch of his sweater the cup was resting on, burrowing as close to Lotor as he could get. There, he sighed.

‘My parents asked me to come over to theirs for Christmas,’ James said, ‘did you want to join me?’

Christmas, Keith thought with a start, right, that’s a thing. It was only three more days until Christmas eve. Only a few more days until… Well. He didn’t exactly have any plans anymore, did he? He guessed he wasn’t going to go over to Lance’s parents’ for dinner, nor would he get a call from his own. The thought of his parents staying silent throughout all of this left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Not that they call much anyway, Keith reasoned, even though he knew they must’ve taken Shiro’s and Lance’s side. He knew what this whole situation looked like to the world, to Shiro, and so to their parents as well. He’d never felt like they were any less his parents than Shiro’s, but… They were still Shiroganes. Maybe that’s why… Maybe that’s why they hadn’t called sooner. Or at all, since that day.

‘Keith?’ James whispered, startling him out of his reverie. He realized he had started shaking again, with Lotor keeping a gentle hand on his arm.

Keith cleared his throat. ‘Uhm, yeah, no. I mean- no, I’ll stay here. Thank you though.’

‘We could celebrate together then.’ Lotor said.

‘You’re not going anywhere?’

‘Not really, I usually just stay in and watch cliché movies. You can join me if you want. For New Year’s too.’

‘You’ll still be gone by then?’ Keith asked, turning to James once more.

Having just taken a sip, James clumsily rushed to clear his mouth to speak, making Keith smile. ‘Ah, yeah, I usually stay until, like, the second or third of January? But if you want, I could stay here with you as well?’

It was only then, in the moment that James asked that question, that Keith could see the worried lines on James’s face, the still-tense posture of his shoulders, the slightly-pinched eyes.

Oh man, he’d stay here for me.

It hit him like a bag of bricks: this heavy feeling in his chest, lurching into his stomach. Here he was, keeping two people up at night to care for him, forcing himself into Lotor’s space, looking as pathetic as he did to get what he wanted; and James was even willing to give up on time spent with his family because Keith couldn’t make it through a single night. He couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep taking so much.

‘No!’ Keith cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at his outburst. ‘I mean- Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, you should go!’

‘He tries this every year with me as well,’ Lotor said, his chest rumbling with the sound of his voice. Keith relaxed against him automatically, forcing himself to not jump away as his skin started to crawl.

James huffed, hunching in on himself as he raised his mug to his lips and mumbled against the rim: ‘It’s called being polite.’

Absentmindedly petting Kosmo, Keith took James as an example and hid his smile in his mug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While James reluctantly went off to work, Keith and Lotor had a quiet day in. Kosmo kept following Keith around the apartment, which, seeing as Keith still felt tired and heavy, was probably a good thing.

Eventually Lotor did have to work, too, so he invited Keith and Kosmo over to hang out at his place while he did. He sat down at the dining table, clunky headphones on as he worked on his sheet music, giving his guests free reign to do whatever. Wanting to avoid his phone for today, Keith set to exploring Lotor’s apartment some more – with permission of course.

Since he lived alone, Lotor had turned the spare bedroom into some sort of office space, with both a desk as well as several musical instruments lining the walls. Keith’s gaze was immediately drawn to the sleek, black piano in the far corner. He was itching to open the lid and feel the keys against his fingers, but he balled his fists and purposefully saved it for last. Instead, he examined the cello first. It was a beautiful instrument, but then again, he’d always found string instruments beautiful, with their elegant curves and shiny polished wood. With a smile, Keith saw the spots where Lotor’s thighs had worn down the varnish during countless hours of practice.

Reaching out, he couldn’t resist gingerly strumming a string but quickly took a step back at the resulting noise, looking over his shoulder like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t…’ He mumbled as he moved on to check out the sheet music and the guitar.

Finally, though, he gave into temptation and stepped up to the piano, gently grazing his fingertips over the keys, not pressing down, but simply familiarizing himself with the feel of them. When he sat down on the little stool in front of it, Kosmo settled at his side, tilting his head. Shooting off one last smile at his dog, Keith turned his attention back to the instrument, feeling his shoulders loosen as he hovered his hands over the keys. He chewed his bottom lip, fingers wiggling in the air.

But Lotor was in another room, with headphones on. And he said it was alright, so…

So Keith tapped into that heavy, floaty feeling that was still hanging around and closed his eyes.

He could still feel his heart hammering, but he focused on the weightlessness within, the heaviness of the keys beneath, the lyrics of the song that automatically came to him as he started to play.

It had been a while, of course, since he got to play this song, but… It had been one of his favorites. Before... Keith quickly shook his head and concentrated on the music. He used to be able to play it almost entirely by heart and with his eyes closed, with only the intense bridge giving him enough trouble to actually look at his fingers. Now, however… Keith was really out of practice and kept his eyes glued to the keys. Back then, whenever he played this song, it had just been a pop song he’d heard on the radio once and had thought it was beautiful. Now… He could feel the lyrics resonate in his chest, could empathize with the weight behind the words that played in his head, along with the melody he evoked from the instrument.

He wrinkled his brow, not because he made mistakes but because the emotions of the song reverberated inside of him, drew him deeper into the tune and spurned his imagination as a scenario unfolded before his inner eye, as he became part of it, lived through it.

He was still aware of the way his fingers dragged over the keys, how they were a little heavier than the ones he was used to. Still felt the edge of the seat dig into his legs, could hear the slight squeak of the pedals as he pressed and released, pressed and released. He knew a trick that would make it run smoother, and he might do that after he was finished, but for now, he let himself sink into the music.

Letting the final note carry off, Keith felt his mouth curl into a smile he didn’t even try to suppress. It still pulled on his scarred cheek a little, though far less painful than a week ago.

‘I didn’t know you could play,’ Said Lotor. Keith turned around, finding the other man leaning against the doorpost, arms folded. Keith scrambled off the stool, opening his mouth with apologies on his lips, but Lotor quickly shot him a smile and kept talking. ‘Oh keep going! It was beautiful, just didn’t know, that’s all.’

Slowly, Keith sat back down, immediately followed by Kosmo putting his head in Keith’s lap. ‘Er, yeah, I play a little. Not professionally or anything, just… For fun, every now and then. I haven’t in a while though.’

‘Well, you’re welcome to play here anytime, if you want. Or we could play something together, if you know anything that’d sound good with a cello.’

Rubbing his thumb over the spot between Kosmo’s eyebrows, Keith nodded. And smiled, lopsided as it was, wishing he had his music scores. ‘Sure. I’d like that. You got some time?’

Lotor smiled back, then pushed off the doorframe, caressing his fingers over the neck of his cello. ‘Yeah, I was due for a break anyway. So, what was next on your list?’

Rubbing the back of his neck, Keith looked back to where he had his fingers tangled in Kosmo’s fur. ‘Ah, yeah, I don’t have my sheet music here so… I don’t really know.’

‘I have some sheets for what’s supposed to be quatre mains, if you want to look at that? Very basic, but we could make that work. Or,’ Lotor fluttered around the room, pulling out stacks of books filled with sheet music, handing them all over to Keith to look at. ‘This is some beginner-level music, but here’s an option for accompaniment, we could try that, or-’

In the end, they wound up trying all sorts of things. The pieces Lotor picked out were really beginner-level, and thus easy enough for Keith to pick up for the first time playing them. They laughed at all the additions like sesame street songs, got weirdly into their slightly messy version of “My Heart Will Go On” and finished strong with hot cross buns, though there were actual serious attempts in between as well. When Keith and Lotor took Kosmo out for a walk before dinner, Keith’s cheeks still hurt. From smiling, this time, rather than the usual ache of his scar.

When James got back from work, the apartment’s inhabitants were in much different spirits then when he’d left. Keith saw his roommate light up as he got home, hugging both Keith and Lotor at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning of Christmas eve, Keith woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes - and the weight of an excited puppy on his chest. ‘Morning…’ Keith yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand as the other was busy petting Kosmo’s head and playing with his ears. ‘Smells good, doesn’t it?’ 

After a jibing ‘Woof!’ and a lot of tail-wagging, Keith managed to get himself out of bed and into the sitting room, Kosmo’s nails clacking on the wooden floor as he trotted after him, only to be greeted with the sight of James flipping pancakes as he quietly hummed along to the melody of Jingle Bells coming from the radio. 

How domestic, He thought with a faint smile, seeing a different brunette dancing in the kitchen to Christmas music in his mind's eye. But that was long ago. Before… ‘Good morning, James.’ Keith said, shaking his head to chase off the memories that threatened to break through the uneasy calm he somehow managed to maintain since his last “situation”.

James, not missing a beat, turned around and greeted him with a ‘Merry Christmas! I made pancakes! Coffee’s ready, too!’ 

Breakfast was a quiet affair and Keith was happy to just sit and eat while listening to James talk about family gatherings. ‘I mean, of course I love them, but I wish they would just stop nagging me about Nadia. I mean, of course I wish she could’ve come, and I’ll miss her while I’m there, but we’ve only been on a couple dates, you know? I’m just looking forward to bringing her next year.’ 

Keith smirked. ‘Wow, already planning for next year? Things must be going well, huh?’

‘Shut up,’ James shot him a wry smile, gently pushing Keith’s shoulder. The latter could see James’s cheeks flush crimson, but decided not to tease him about it. 

Though maybe just a little bit. ‘Wear a green sweater and you’ll be all Christmas colors,’ Keith said, poking James’s heated cheeks.

‘You dick!’ James exclaimed, laughing all the while. Keith hid the toothy grin that was forming by sticking out his tongue at his roommate.

An hour later, and after a lot of reaffirming that, yes, James should go and see his family, and yes, he would be alright, Keith found himself on the couch, Kosmo’s head resting on his thigh. The table was cleaned, the dishes were done and the coffee pot empty. ‘Wanna play?’ 

They spent most of the day either playing or snuggling, with Keith smiling happily at his dog as he ran off to fetch the soft little ball Keith would throw to the opposite corner of the room. Eventually, morning turned into afternoon and it was time to go for a walk. Taking a deep breath, Keith put on his coat and stepped through the door, Komso at his heels. 

Frowning down at his phone, he re-read the recipe he was going to try out that evening. He couldn’t stay focused. Every other second, his mind would go blank and he’d look up, then look around, his gaze wandering along the street, lingering on certain people whenever Kosmo stopped to sniff a tree or a cobble stone. Realized he’d been lurking when the figure with sandy hair turned around and didn’t have glasses. Feeling his cheeks heat, he looked down at Kosmo and kept walking, rubbing his chest. He couldn’t help but hunch his shoulders when he noticed a shadow following him, couldn’t keep his breath steady when another person took off their beanie to reveal purple curls he wasn’t expecting.

Kosmo, of course, stuck close by, nosing at the hand holding his leash whenever Keith stared for too long instead of crossing the street. Making up his mind, he turned his steps to make a detour to a little park that was only a few blocks away. Once there, Keith squatted down and unfastened the vest that meant Kosmo was on duty. ‘You’ve been a very, very good boy today, you know?’ His dog tilted his head to the side and wagged his tail. ‘And since you took such good care of me, you deserve some extra playing time.’ With that, Keith grabbed a stick from the ground and threw it as far as he could. 

That evening, Lotor came over while Keith prepared dinner and Kosmo slept off the excitement of the day. Wine in hand, Lotor chatted about his work day, gruffly imitating a colleague’s agitated voice as he complained about something insignificant. Keith laughed as he listened, chopping up the vegetables and breathing quietly through the wave of panic when he bumped his hip into the counter and saw flashes of things that never even happened.

He kept telling himself That didn’t really happen, trying not to emphasize the “that”; and you’re alright now, Lotor’s right there.

Dinner was a cheerful yet stilted affair, with Lotor sipping his last glass of wine and Keith decidedly not. They both ignored how Keith’s hands shook as he lifted another bite to his lips, or the crinkling of his nose as he chewed, or the shudder as he swallowed, or how most of his serving ended up in a container of leftovers.

Finally, as Lotor took care of the dishes (“because we need to keep things fair, Keith”), did they tentatively breach the subject of Keith’s day. The latter sighed, eyes fixed on the spot between Lotor’s shoulder blades, watching the movement beneath his shirt as he worked. For a second, he contemplated resting his forehead there, imagined the warmth and stability and –

- and all the ways in which Lotor had already supported him. Was still carrying all the weight Keith had dumped on him, the responsibilities and expectations and –

– and the feeling of a body against yours that you don’t even want there and it won’t leave you alone and it just keeps pressing and –

Sitting on the ground, Keith wrapped his arms around Kosmo’s neck, smiling at the gentle way Kosmo was trying to give Keith his paw to shake.

‘I thought I saw Adam on my walk with Kosmo this afternoon.’ Keith quietly confessed, noticing the tiniest of hesitation in Lotor’s diligent scrubbing. ‘And Pidge. It wasn’t actually them, but…’

‘Well,’ Lotor began, carefully, ‘It… does make sense. With how stressed you’ve been after they… dropped by.’

‘I know, it just…’ Keith turned his face more into the scruff at Kosmo’s neck, blocking most of his vision out as he focused on the steady thrum of Kosmo’s heartbeat against his squished cheek.

‘Sucked?’

‘Yeah,’ Keith laughed, feeling like a child when his voice caught and the laughter turned to hiccups and the hiccups turned into smothered sobs he refused to let out but continued to shake around. Because even if he couldn’t stop them, he could at the very least be quiet about it. He was just… so strung out. So tired.

Hearing the tap get shut off, Keith cringed at the scene that must be unfolding, the one where Lotor once again had to put everything on hold for him.

‘Keith,’ Lotor whispered, kneeling down next to the pair on the ground. ‘Look at me.’

Keith shook his head, now buried completely in fur.

Softly, Lotor asked: ‘Is it okay if I touch you?’ Debating for only a second, Keith finally shook his head. Kosmo was whining beneath him, so he started up a gentle scratch.

‘Alright,’ Lotor murmured, ‘you’re alright.’ But then he quieted, as if he, too, didn’t know what to say and yeah, same here buddy.

‘I just… I miss them…’

‘I know, darling,’

‘But I don’t… I don’t really want to see them? Like, seeing them made me so angry, and I don’t- didn’t want to- listening to them… I wanted to leave so badly, but all I wanted at first was to explain, and I  still do, but I also don’t? I dunno. It’s… I dunno.’

Keith could hear how Lotor quietly sat himself down on the floor. ‘…I’m sorry.’

They sat in silence for a while, Lotor looking deep in thought while Keith, too, tried to make sense of what was happening in his brain. ‘They are too,’ Keith mumbled finally, turning his face so he could breathe without inhaling fur, though he wasn’t too sure if he could breathe any better now, what with all the crying.

‘That would be… good, yes?’

Keith chuckled wetly. ‘Yeah, better late than never?’

‘Maybe…’ Lotor halted, ‘Maybe it’d help to hear them out?’

Keith hummed, letting his arms loosen their hold, even though Kosmo still sat patiently within his embrace. Finally, when the soap duds had all popped and the dishes had practically dried, Keith muttered: ‘Felt fantastic to just yell at them, though.’

He smiled at the rumbled laugh he could hear from beside him. ‘Yeah I bet,’ Lotor chuckled. ‘I’m glad you were able to get that out. Maybe talking with them would feel the same. Or better.’

‘I don’t think anything will feel better than yelling at them,’ Keith said, making eye contact with Lotor. He could already feel his crooked smile twitching, the mirrored expression on Lotor’s face not making it any easier to stop the grin from forming, until they just sat there staring at each other, not quite laughing but not quite crying anymore either. It felt a little wrong, to have to suppress his laughter now after that sour mood, as if he wasn’t allowed to. Yet it also felt a little right, smothered giggles twinkling in and out like well-used fairy lights running out of battery.

The moment came to an end when a sharp ringing interrupted the two. As Lotor went back to the dishes, Keith glanced quickly at his ringing phone’s screen as he stood up, swiping quickly to accept the call from James.

‘Hi,’ Keith said, clearing his throat, still trying to contain his giggles. ‘Lotor’s here too. Wait- I’ll put you on speaker.’

‘Did you do it?’ James’s voice rang throughout the room.

‘Yeah, you’re on speaker now. What’s up?’

They heard James take in a deep breath, before he followed up with a bellowed: ‘Merry Christmas, guys!’

Lotor leaned closer to the phone being held up between him and Keith. ‘Merry Christmas to you too. You got there alright?’

‘Yes, mom, I’m safe,’ James whined, before the two in the apartment heard some mumbling from the other side of the line that sounded vaguely like “no mom I wasn’t talking to you” and “no I know what I said-“

Finally, James sighed. ‘Anyway, roommate-dearest, don’t you have something to say to me?’

Keith rolled his eyes. ‘I saw you this morning.’

Lotor and Keith met eyes when Keith hovered his thumb over the hang-up button at James’s overly dramatic gasp. Lotor raised his eyebrow, smiling a smile that, even while crooked, looked perfect on him.

‘That was forever ago!’ James exclaimed, and then, when he didn’t receive an answer: ‘I said: merry Christmas!’

Keith sighed. ‘Merry Christmas, James,’ But he couldn’t deny that he was smiling too, even while crooked, it still pulled on his scar, probably making him look grotesque.

‘Aw, you do love me!’

‘Bye James!’

‘Love you too!’

Quickly, Keith side-eyed Lotor as he cupped the phone’s receiver, turning off the speaker-function and turning away from Lotor, who turned a little too nonchalantly back to dry the rest of the dishes.

‘Love you too,’ Keith mumbled, quickly hanging up at James’s responding screech.

Feeling the heat underneath his skin, Keith pretended not to notice Lotor smiling smugly at the sink.

‘So,’ Keith eventually broke the silence, hiding his own smile as he came to stand beside the other, noting the way Lotor’s arm twitched as if wanting to pull him closer but changing his mind. Feeling pleasantly warm, he took a deep breath and moved into Lotor’s side, ducking under the other’s arm and pretending it wasn’t a big deal. He gave Lotor’s waist a squeeze, the gesture returned right away by a beaming Lotor.

Just as Keith was about to pocket his phone and try to sneak into helping Lotor clean up, it started ringing again. Keith rolled his eyes, already lifting the accepted call to his ear. ‘What did you want now?’ He asked, mirth still in his voice.

‘Hey, Keith,’

And the warmth faded away, plummeting like a glacier in the pit of Keith’s stomach. Wide-eyed, he met Lotor’s confused gaze.

‘Mom?’

Chapter Text

CW: vague discussion of implied non-con

Chapter seventeen

‘Mom?’

It really was Mrs. Shirogane’s warm voice that answered. ‘ Hi, honey. Merry Christmas.’

You called? Youcalledyoucalledyoucalled? YOU CALLED? ‘You called?’ Keith whispered, frantically moving out from under Lotor’s arm, feeling caught. Which was… ridiculous on so many levels. ‘I didn’t think you would,’ Keith continued after clearing his throat. ‘I thought… I thought Shiro had…’ He sneered: ‘ …talked . To you.’

He was met with silence. Silence that stretched a few moments too long. Checking his phone, Keith saw that his mother hadn’t actually ended the call like he was sure she must have and put the phone back to his ear. Then, finally, she continued with a sigh. ‘Oh Keith… We… Yes. Takashi, he… He told us some things. He did a lot of talking, actually, and not so much listening, and we… Your father and I, we are really, really sorry.’

You are? thought Keith with genuine surprise. 

‘We know we should have called you right away but… We assumed you’d call us first, when you were ready to talk. But…’ she trailed off. ‘But it’s been two months and… And then we realized that maybe you thought we’d just side with Takashi without hearing your side first. We should never have waited this long. We’re so, so sorry, Keith.’

‘You… you want to hear… my side?’ Keith’s eyes flitted to Lotor, who was looking back at him uncertainly. The taller man pointed at himself first, then at the door, raising his eyebrows. “Want me to go?” Quickly, Keith shook his head, extending his hand to Lotor, both of them pretending not to notice the trembling of his arm.

As Lotor took his hand and started to gently rub the pad of his thumb over Keith’s knuckles, Keith tried to focus on his mother’s voice rather than the ringing in his ears.

‘Of course we do, Keith.’ Keith closed his eyes, trying to keep his breath steady. ‘What Takashi said happened… We know our sons.’ She said resolutely. ‘And it doesn’t add up. What really happened?’

‘”What really happened”? You mean…’ Keith trailed off, relieved when he didn’t have to comb through the mess of words all floating around in his brain.

‘I assume there must be more to the story Takashi told us, right? He said he hasn’t talked to you since… Since whatever had happened, happened . ’

He sucked in a gasp of air. ‘So why didn’t you ? Why didn’t you… Why did you wait, why didn’t you call?’

Feeling Lotor step closer to him, Keith focused all his attention towards where the edges of his phone dug into the palm of his hand. ‘I thought… I was waiting for you to call me, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I didn’t do it sooner. I should have called sooner, Keith. I am so sorry if I made you doubt your father and I, or if we made you feel like you couldn’t come to us.’

‘I really needed you to call,’ Keith confessed, voice small. ‘I really needed someone to call. No one would talk to me after… After. No one would, not Shiro, not- not Lance. Not even Pidge. No one did, and there was no one there, and I thought maybe at least you-’

‘We should have,’ She said resolutely, emotion thick in her voice. ‘You’re right. And I know there’s no excuse for what we did. Or didn’t do. We thought you needed space and you would come to us, and… And we both realize how terribly wrong that was.

‘I thought…’ Keith lowered his voice to a whisper, hoping the words wouldn't sting as much if he only said them quiet enough. ‘I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to anymore.’ Wouldn’t want me, he didn’t say.

‘Oh, no, Keith, my baby, no, never , I will never give up on you.’ His mom said, and Keith was horrified to hear her sniffle. Oh god, I made my mom cry, I’m a despicable, terrible, awful… And he felt Lotor’s hand squeeze tightly around his own, and Kosmo pawing at his leg and oh fuck, why did I say that, I shouldn’t have said that, stupid, stop talking, stoptalkingstoptalking-

Well I want you to shut up, He heard that familiar voice sneer. A familiar voice in a familiar environment, doing unspeakable things.

Keith flinched, trying to drive out the memories of waking up to a nightmare.

‘I love you. I will always love you.’ His mom continued, her southern accent stronger now, and Keith focused on the familiarity of it and the feeling of Kosmo nuzzling his shin. ‘I made a mistake, and it’s okay if you’re angry at me for it. But I’m here now.’

‘I needed you then .’ Keith snapped, immediately feeling guilty for it. But Lotor smiled encouragingly, a grounding presence at his side. He wouldn’t leave him, and neither would Kosmo.  And his mom-

‘You’re right.’

‘You’re my…’ He swallowed back the word, he shouldn’t lash out like this.

‘I am. I am your mother. And I failed you.’

His hand clenched tightly around his phone, but didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t so cruel as to confirm it, even if part of him really wanted to. It hung between them, heavy and oppressing, like a storm approaching.

‘It’s okay that you’re angry with me. And I know it doesn’t make up for it, but I am here now. And I will not leave you again.’

‘I’m sorry for snapping,’ Keith offered quietly, mind still reeling.  He knew that she was trying to make amends and he knew that he was glad for it. 

His mom clicked her tongue. ‘No, baby, you deserve to be angry. Because… Something bad happened. Didn’t it?’ She asked in a whisper.

‘I… He…’ Keith shook his head, before finally being able to croak out a “yes” as his fingers dug into Lotor’s palm. He didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to have to tell her.

‘Baby, would it help you if I… if I ask questions instead? You’ll only have to say yes or no.’

‘Okay,’ Keith whispered back, releasing Lotor’s hand to reach beyond his arm, clutching at his sweater and feeling the man’s steady heartbeat beneath his clenched fist.

‘You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.’

‘No it’s… you can ask.’

‘Did you get hurt?’

Keith breathed in sharply. ‘Yes.’ He stared at a spot on the floor, feeling Lotor’s hands hesitantly cup his elbows.

‘Did he… hurt you?’

Kosmo whined, nosing at his leg. ‘… Yes.’

His mother hesitated for a brief moment, but to Keith, it felt like an eternity, like it stretched back to That Moment and pulled at him until he was right back there in his apartment, when she asked:. ‘Did he… force himself onto you?’

Keith whimpered, feeling his knees buckle and Lotor’s grip tighten around him as he guided Keith to the floor. Kosmo immediately wriggled into Keith’s arms, pushing his nose into Keith’s neck. ‘Ye-’ He cleared his throat, reaching for Kosmo with the hand not holding his phone and making space between his legs for his dog to press completely against him. ‘Yeah,’

He closed his eyes when he heard his mother gasp, followed by muffled gibberish, as if she had cupped her hand over the phone, vehemently mumbling. He’d guess she cursed, if he didn’t know better. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed how Lotor motioned to reach out for him, waiting for permission to touch, and nodded to give his consent. Slowly, Lotor started tapping his fingers over the length of Keith’s arm that was still around Kosmo.

He heard his father’s low, rumbling voice and felt his heart rate skyrocket. He couldn’t say it again, couldn’t hear someone say it again, couldn’t bear to hear even a suggestion of it, couldn’t see it in his mind at the whispered words, couldn’t live through the images that would surely follow those words.

‘Honey,’ His mother trailed tearily. ‘I’m so sorry, I… your dad’s here, do you want to talk to him?’

Keith shook his head, leaning his head further into Kosmo’s vigorous affections. ‘I can’t…’

‘Okay. That’s- that’s okay, I… do you want me to tell him? I don’t have to, it’s whatever you want.’

‘No, it’s okay.’ Keith whispered as he started to list his surroundings in his mind: 1. Lotor’s legs, peeking into the corner of his vision; 2. Kosmo, whining and pawing at him; 3. The coffee table with the mugs from earlier on it, coffee stains visible inside; 4. Black fur, clinging to his pant legs and hands; 5. His own hands, trembling against Kosmo’s flank and steadily rising and falling along with his breaths. ‘You can tell him.’

‘Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, I… I just wish…’ She trailed off, ‘Do you want us to fly out? Your dad and I can book the earliest flight and come see you… if you want?’

Lotor’s rhythmic tapping drew away the tingling numbness that was starting to take over his limbs. Kosmo’s cold nose pressed against his cheek, and he could feel his eyes burning.

‘No, it’s-, I’m s-, I’m okay. You don’t have to come, I’ll… I’m staying with some people who are good to me.’ The low buzzing of his dad’s restless voice came through the speaker again, balancing the ongoing whining of Kosmo and the low taps of skin on skin. Steadying his voice, Keith said: ‘Thank you, though.’

‘Of course. I’m glad you’re safe. I love you, Keith.’

Finally, he felt the tears start running down his cheeks. ‘Mama,’ He choked out, voice breaking. He leaned closer into Lotor’s waiting embrace, so close he was able to pick up his cologne, as well as the smell of fresh outside air that still clung to Kosmo from their walk.

‘We both love you.’ His mom said, strongly this time.

The tears were salty on Keith’s tongue. ‘I love you, too. But Shiro…’

His mom scoffed. ‘Takashi will come around. He’s stubborn, and can get stuck in his righteous ways, but… He has Adam. I’m sure he can knock the sense right back into him.’ He heard the smile in his mom’s voice, softer now, when she said: ‘I’ve always liked that boy.’

Keith laughed wetly, leaning his head back on Lotor’s shoulder while wrapping his arm around Kosmo. Closing his eyes, he felt the rushing in his ears subside.

‘In all seriousness,’ His mom went on, ‘We’ll have a word with Takashi, if that’s alright with you. And if you need anything, anything at all, we’re here for you. And I promise to call you more often. Okay?’

Keith sighed. ‘Okay, mama. Thank you for calling. Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Christmas morning, Keith opened the door for Lotor, who, much to his surprise, carried a few neatly wrapped packages in his arm.

‘Mornin’,’ Keith mumbled, still a little sleepy. The mug in his hand was steaming, filling the apartment with the smell of hot cocoa and cinnamon. He pressed a second mug into Lotor’s hand as soon as the other put the presents down by the little fake tree James and Keith had decorated before his roommate had left. It looked a little lopsided, a little messy, and a lot perfect . James had insisted on adding the tinsel first, while Keith insisted on ornaments first, like any sane person would. They eventually settled on a compromise and did them at the same time, dodging each other’s hands in the little space they had.

Sitting down on the ground around their little tree, Lotor sipped from his mug as Keith started up a video call with James. Lotor caught his attention when he held out a package. ‘James asked me to keep this for you.’  The wrappings quickly gave way to reveal hideous matching Christmas-print pajama bottoms. One for Keith, one for Lotor and, once they connected the video call, one apparently already being worn by James himself.

Keith turned his phone to show James his own gift, sitting under the tree, partially regretting not giving it to James before he left so he could unwrap it on camera, but he had a hunch that James wouldn’t have been able to hold off until now anyway.

‘It’ll be here for you when you get back,’ Keith teased instead, wiggling the camera as he showed off the gaudy wrapping paper his roommate had insisted on buying.

James chuckled, finally letting up his guessing game on what was inside – a puppy! A pen! A bicycle! – to say: ‘Really making me look forward to coming home even more.’

All three of the boys had gotten Kosmo some gifts too. Some new toys from James, some smelly chewy snacks from Lotor, and a new leather collar from Keith. Kosmo, though he did not understand all the fuss, still walked back and forth between Lotor and Keith, tail wagging and almost smacking them in the face, excitedly licking their faces with his infectious excitement.

‘Now I wonder what this could be,’ Mused Lotor as he unwrapped the present Keith got for him. The shape of the package didn’t leave much room for speculation though. It was a new bow for his cello that Keith had ordered after asking his friend way too many “hypothetical” questions and many hours of reading online reviews. Though not at all surprised, Lotor was still happy to see it.

In return, Keith received a little wooden box with several metal prongs and an inlay of little flowers in the bottom right. Lilacs. ‘It’s called a kalimba,’ Lotor said when Keith looked up at him. ‘It’s like a little hand-piano? Just in case you ever want to play something and I’m not home, or… Well. Now you can play whenever and wherever you want.’

‘Lotor…’ Keith trailed off, rubbing his finger over the smooth inlay. He grinned at the other. ‘Thank you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time his phone rang, a couple days after Christmas, Keith was fiddling with his kalimba, still getting used to the new way of reading the music and the little dots over the letters. Letting the final note carry off, Keith reached between the sheets of his bed to fish for his phone, frowning at the display showing Kolivan’s name. Why…?

He hadn’t spoken to his manager since all the drama about dropping the new film he was supposed to be in, his role now filled by Akira. He had no other projects Kolivan could be contacting him about, right? So… whatever it was, it must be trouble. Were people from past projects coming after him now?

‘Hi Kolivan, uh, happy holidays. What’s… What’s wrong?’

‘Happy holidays, Keith. I…’ Kolivan trailed off, making Keith sit up straighter. He’d never, in all the years of knowing Kolivan, seen the man lost for words. He pulled at the collar of his v-neck, trying to cool off the sweltering heat gathering around him.

Kosmo perked up from his spot beside the bed, trotting over to jump up on top with his owner.

Kolivan sighed. ‘Mr. McClain called me.’

Keith’s heart thundered in his chest, the heat rolling over him in ripples, clammy hands sticking to the fur he kept petting over and over and over. Kosmo wiggled closer to him, providing Keith with a welcome, chilly touch by pressing his wet nose into Keith’s neck. Keith exhaled.

‘Lance?’ He whispered, swallowing thickly.

‘Yes. He called me… about a week and a half ago. Couple days before Christmas.’ Before Pidge and Adam showed up. ‘He asked about you. At the time, I thought, well, if he’s waited this long, he can wait a little longer. I was just about to go out of office for Christmas, so I said I’d take his call after the holidays, just to make him sweat a little, you know? After he made you wait so long, I figured he could too. I just talked to Lance again and he told me how he’s been thinking through some things, how he feels guilty about never talking to you after everything happened. About any of it. He wants to talk to you, Keith.’

Mouth dropping open, Keith’s hand stopped the scratching he’d unconsciously taken up, hand falling into his lap.

‘What? Why-… why didn’t he call me ?’

‘He thinks there’s more to the story than what’s online. Honestly, the first smart thing he’s said since… Anyway. He suspects something is up, but isn’t sure. He was wondering if, if there is really more to it, if you’d be up for having a talk. I think he’s terrified that you really did cheat but also that you didn’t, and he’s too late now. I said I’d talk to you and you’d reach out if you were up for it, and otherwise he should leave you alone. But after this talk, I realized… That by making him wait, I took that choice away from you. Again. And I apologize for that.’

Keith dragged his hand down his face, taking some deep breaths while focusing on Kosmo’s affections, dragging him back from the recesses of his mind.

What do I do?

Lance asked for him.

Wanted to talk to him.

Was finally , after all this time, realizing that something about all of this wasn’t adding up.

Did he have to do that now though?

Fiddling with a loose thread on the duvet, Keith thought about Adam, his brother’s best friend, choosing to come seek him out despite Shiro probably still being vehemently against it. Always Shiro’s moral compass, correcting where he went astray. “ I came for you” . He hadn’t needed any persuasion from anyone else to realize he wanted to see Keith again.

He thought of Pidge, his best friend, who chose someone else over him at the drop of a hat. Iced him out completely. Who tracked him down just so they could try and talk to him again, who admitted they were wrong.

And Lance.

Lance, who still made his heart thump loudly in his chest. Who used to look at him with such soft eyes, that lilting laugh he saved just for him, that warm vibrato of his voice whispering in the dark.

Who blocked him, just like that, without giving him a chance.

‘I… I have to think about this. Thank you. For telling me.’

‘Of course.’ Kolivan answered, a little quickly. Kosmo looked up at Keith with those big brown eyes, tilting his head.

‘Oh and Kolivan?’ Keith smiled at Kosmo, giving him a gentle pat between the ears. ‘Don’t keep things from me again.’

A beat of silence. Then: ‘Of course.’

Ending the call, Keith stretched out his legs, sent off a text to Lotor asking him if he was free, and took his dog for a walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, after getting rid of all the tension in his body by just chucking a tennis ball as far as he could – which, by the way, Kosmo didn’t mind at all – Keith still couldn’t quite get his head right. It was still a mess, swirling thoughts of They want me again and Ugh, I’m so gross and so desperate to be happy and Why did it take them so long? and What do I even want? still lingered, taunted, weighed him down . Lotor had given him some space after Keith whispered a brief summary of what had transpired. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it in detail, not while everything was still such a mess. He’d just wanted a distraction.

Even so, at one point, he’d leant down and softly asked Kosmo what to do, but despite being the best boy and smartest pup in the world, even Kosmo could merely tilt his head and offer a paw.

‘Good job, buddy,’ Keith praised anyway, because honestly, his dog was a philosopher. Truly magnificent, these ideas.

When his arms got sore and his brain was all tired out, Keith put Kosmo’s working-vest back on and the trio left the park.

‘Do you want to talk about it? Or a distraction? Or just silence?’ Lotor finally asked, hands in his pockets as they strolled down the street, Kosmo trotting along with his tongue lolling out, periodically looking back at Keith.

‘Sorry for dragging you into this,’ Keith admitted, rubbing his neck beneath the thick scarf wound loosely around him.

Keith watched Lotor’s fancy dress shoes kick at a forlorn pebble as the latter said: ‘Oh, it’s no problem. Just unsure what you want right now.’

Blowing out a breath that quickly condensed in the cold air, Keith thought: Yeah, same here, buddy ; but said: ‘I think a distraction. For now. Sorry.’

‘No problem. I needed to get out anyway, I was working on this…’ And so the two filled their walk with casual conversation, allowing Keith to only worry about what to say next rather than what to do about this entire thing. All he had to worry about now was paying attention to his friend and not tripping and falling flat on his face. This, he could manage.

Until he got distracted.

A swirling pattern of orange letters drew his attention from his friend and towards a shop window. ‘Hold on,’ Keith drawled, catching Lotor in the crook of his elbow to signal for them to stop.

Because there, through the window, he could see Regris holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

That’s right , Keith thought with a start, remembering what Regris had said at the hospital nearly a month ago. “I work at the flower shop on Main, across from the library. Drop by sometime?”

A bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open, stepping into the quaint little shop, buckets with all sorts of different flowers and bouquets and all kinds of pots and plants filling every available surface.

Regris stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as he realized who, exactly, was in his shop right now. Then his face split into the widest grin.

‘You came!’

Keith smiled guiltily. ‘Yeah. Hi, how are you?’

Quickly, Regris dumped his armful of flowers into a nearby bucket before making his way over. ‘I am so good. But oh- who’s this?’ His gaze had slid down to Kosmo, who was sitting at Keith’s heel and looking up at his owner.

Keith smiled softly down at his dog. ‘Oh, this is Kosmo.’ The ears perked up at the name, but otherwise Kosmo didn’t react. Keith winced when he looked back up at Regris. ‘He’s working right now, though, so I can’t let you pet him. Sorry.’

Regris waved his hand, as if he could shoo the words from the air between them. ‘No worries. He’s a cutie. And I saw you at the hospital, right?’ Regris asked, now focusing on the actual human Keith had brought with him. Because, you know, he had his priorities straight. ‘I’m Regris, didn’t get to introduce myself back then.’ His eyes darted between the two men before him.

‘Lotor,’ He introduced himself, shaking  the hand Regris offered . ‘We- Keith’s roommate and I, we really appreciate what you did, back then. We didn’t get to say it then, but I’m glad you were there.’

Before Regris could undoubtedly wave that away too, Keith spoke up: ‘No really, thank you. For your help, and how kind you were. It means a lot.’

Regris smiled gently, eyes still occasionally passing between the other two. ‘Yeah, man. Of course. No need to thank me.’ Neither acknowledged the quick look Regris passed to Keith’s cheek. The pressure in his chest that had steadily crept up on him loosened a bit in gratitude. Then, Regris looked out the window. ‘So I’m guessing that, with the dog and all, you didn’t come here by bike?’

A chuckle crept past Keith’s lips. ‘No, sadly, I still didn’t get to pick it up. I really have to do that sometime, though.’ Not forgetting the part where he still dreaded going back to that apartment complex. Of finding what was waiting for him there – or who.

Excitedly, Regris launched a story about the new bike his boyfriend had bought, then launched into an even more excited story about his boyfriend , now that Keith felt comfortable enough to ask him about the situation. Regris continued to gush about his partners – Vrek, his boyfriend, and Ilun, his girlfriend – for a bit, before trailing off to new year’s eve plans.

‘… And then we’ll probably end up either on a jet ski again, or in some stranger’s jacuzzi. Or maybe both, this year. Who knows.’ Regris shrugged, eyes twinkling at the delighted laugh it pulled from both Keith and Lotor. ‘I’ll actually be leaving right after my shift today, so we have a day for the journey before it’s time to party . How about you guys? What are your plans?’

Keith and Lotor shared a look. ‘We’ll probably just do dinner together, then maybe watch the fireworks from the roof of our building?’ He trailed off, raising his eyebrows in question.

Lotor shrugged. ‘Sure, sounds good to me. We can bring some hot cocoa.’

Keith smiled and looked back to Regris, one hand resting on Kosmo’s head as the other hand fiddled with the leash. ‘Yeah, so that. Not as exciting as… whatever the hell you and your partners are up to.’

Regris grinned a roguish grin. ‘Well, we can’t all be starting the new year possibly naked and definitely hung over.’ Keith tried to not visibly flinch, forcing the breath out of his lungs. He felt Lotor’s hand at his lower back, and Kosmo pressing firmly into his hand, and shook off the feeling.

‘So…’ Regris trailed off, eyes once again darting from Lotor, to Lotor’s hand on Keith’s back, then to Keith. ‘Sorry if I’m too nosy, but I gotta ask. Are you two, like, together?’

Keith blinked, before he snorted. Lotor, next to him, made a choking sound, and when their eyes met, neither could withhold the laughter.

‘Ah, sorry,’ Keith said, still chuckling. ‘No. No we are not. He lives across the hall from me.’

Regris grinned back at the two of them. ‘I see, I see. Sorry for asking. You just seemed… very close.’

‘Oh we are!’ Lotor amended, casting a slightly embarrassed look at Keith. ‘We’re good friends.’

Keith debated, very briefly, about telling Regris that Lotor was a major part in helping him through his anxieties. But, kind as Regris was, he was still practically a stranger. And Keith was still very much in the public eye.

‘Well,’ Keith said finally, after the silence stretched a little too long. ‘Enjoy the trip. It was nice catching up.’

‘Oh, for sure!’ Regris startled, looking at the clock. ‘I should definitely get back to work. Too bad you just missed the owner though, I think you might’ve liked him. He’s this super eccentric dude with the most majestic mustache ever.’ He leaned in close and lifted his hand to his mouth conspiratorially. ‘I believe he gets it permed, but you didn’t hear that from me. I wish you could’ve seen it, though.’

‘Maybe some other time,’ Keith amended.

Smiling, Regris motioned back towards the buckets of flowers. ‘And hey, if you ever need a bouquet, you know where to find me. It can be for anything, man. Want to send someone a message of hate? I can get you some orange lilies and yellow carnations and make a really spiteful arrangement. Just let me know.’

Keith chuckled. ‘Will do. Say hi to Ilun and Vrek for me.’

‘Oh man,’ Regris halted from where he’d been scrutinizing which flowers to gather for his next bouquet. ‘I definitely will and they will totally lose it!’

‘It was nice to meet you.’ Lotor said, giving Regris a final nod. Exchanging final goodbyes, Keith, Lotor and Kosmo left the store, waving over their shoulder at Regris.

The three quickly made their way home, the sun now well on its way to disappear beyond the horizon. It didn’t occur to Keith that he hadn’t spared another thought to the whole Lance situation until he was in bed that night, sandwiched between his hippo plushie and Kosmo. And before he could even dwell on that, Keith was out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day of new year’s eve started off fairly uneventfully. Keith baked some cupcakes, video called James to get another update of the Griffin-family drama (apparently, some cousin had been spotted wearing an engagement ring but kept quiet about it because another cousin was announcing a pregnancy already? Scandalous), and later hung out at Lotor’s place while the other was busy writing music. Even on new year’s, Lotor had work to do.

But this did leave Keith with some quality time he planned to spend with a certain piano that he’d been longing for. The kalimba was nice, and definitely fun to play around with. But today was new year’s eve, and there was a song that required his attention.

It was by pure chance that he discovered that he actually had the music scores to this song in a book he’d only bought because it had tons of Disney songs he’d wanted to learn. And this particular one was special. Lance liked it. Ever since he watched a cover of it on some new year’s show, it had become something of a ritual and Lance insisted they listen to it every new year’s since, always by the same artist.

And Keith had found the sheet music for it.

So he’d started to practice it, playing it as often as he could without Lance finding out about it. Because he’d planned to show it to him. Today.

Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t still play it on the night it was supposed to be played. Wasn’t his fault that the recipient wasn’t here to listen.

So he sat down behind the piano, thanking whatever past-version of himself that had decided to take pictures of these sheets so he’d have them at the ready whenever he might need them, and started playing. 

It was far from perfect. But it was still recognizably the song that Lance had loved so much , and Keith had loved him so much . Still did. He could feel it in the way his heart squeezed at the notes, at the imagined way Lance’s face should’ve lit up as he stood beside that piano, probably crying by now to be honest.

Lance had thrown all that away. But he did want to talk. 

Keith couldn’t deny that it filled him with rage. Blistering, white hot anger at how it shouldn’t have taken Lance this long, how he shouldn’t have gone through Kolivan, shouldn’t have gotten them in this mess in the first place. But also at himself for the way he was so desperately happy that at least Lance wanted to reach out. That maybe, after all, there was still a chance.

And wasn’t that just fucking pathetic?

Still hoping that Lance would care, still longing for someone who had gotten rid of him so easily? Sure, he was changing his mind now, but what about after? Would he change his mind again? Run again at the first sign of trouble? Did Keith even want to see him ?

He was glad this piece ended in a crescendo, but still mentally apologized to the piano for the way his fingers slammed the keys a little too hard. Forte, indeed .

With the last notes still ringing in his ears, Keith stared at the little grooves on the black keys, the signs of an instrument well-loved.

He wasn’t sure he could talk to Lance. Not yet, at least. There was still so much left he had to figure out. So many feelings to sort through. And… he kind of liked Kolivan’s idea of making Lance sweat a little bit. A bitter feeling for sure, but also a satisfying one.

But he could talk to someone else who’d offered.

He floated through the apartment, briefly getting his plan out to Lotor, who gave him an encouraging nod, before he took out his phone and dialed. He briefly wondered if he was still - or again - blocked, when the other picked up.

A hesitant ‘Hello?’ Greeted him.

‘Hi Pidge…’ Silence. ‘It’s Keith.’ He added lamely.

‘No, no, I know,’ Pidge assured. ‘How- How are you?’

Keith sighed as he leaned against the table and met Lotor’s supporting gaze. ‘We don’t have to do the small talk. I want to talk to you. Face to face.’

A moment of stunned silence met him, before he heard Pidge stammer: ‘Am- Wow that- that’s great! When?’

Keith didn’t wait a second before responding. ‘Now.’

‘Now? ’ He could hear the background noises changing. Could hear his former friends’ voices asking where Pidge was going, and a vindicated part of him wondered Who will you pick now? He’d feel guilty for testing them later. ‘Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll come. Be there in… oh I don’t know. Soon, though. On my way as we speak.’

Keith smiled tentatively, seeing Lotor relax in his chair as well. ‘Alright, see you soon, Pidge.’