Two days go by. Then three. Four. Five. No word from Keith. No funny texts. It is a Friday evening when the walls around Lance's brain finally crumble to the ground. It starts when Hunk asks a simple question.
"What's going on with you?"
Lance looks up from his laptop. He's sitting at his desk, chair turned towards Hunk, who is sprawled out on his bed looking at the ceiling. Lance doesn't answer at first. But then says, "Me? What do you mean?" His voice squeaks, making his question sound extremely defensive.
"Come on, Lance." Hunk sits up, now face to face with him. "I've known you for like ten years. Don't make me play guessing games with you. You've been acting really weird, and we haven't hung out in like three weeks. Kate says you won't talk to her. What's your deal?"
Lance knows there is no point in lying, but he tries anyway. "It's just schoolwork, ya know? I'm so worried that I'm starting to do worse than I used to."
Hunk doesn't even dignify the lie with a response. He just stares at Lance, waiting expectantly.
Lance sighs in defeat. "I've been...going to the bar. A lot."
"The bar?" Hunk raises an eyebrow at him. "By yourself?"
"I have a crush on a boy. A big, nasty, soul sucking, life ruining crush."
Lance blurts it loudly, the words falling off of his tongue without his permission, like they've been dying to get out. Hearing it come out of his mouth sounds foreign and terrifying, and makes it feel way too real. He sees Hunk's shocked expression and it makes him incredibly nervous. So he decides to do what he does best when he's nervous, and he starts rambling.
"I don't know whats going on Hunk. I see him and then I just want to see him again and again. I like his smile, and his hair, and his stupid lip ring, and I can't, for the life of me, stop thinking about him. I mean, not that I'm thinking about him, you know? But like, he likes Cheetos? And he has anger issues. But like, not really anymore—"
"Lance,"
"And I think his laugh is pretty? I literally have never thought of a laugh as pretty, Hunk. And he's super pale but it works for him and he can pull off a man bun. Like, how many people do you know who can pull off a man bun? It's insanity—"
"Lance..."
"And I feel like I'm losing my mind because I want him to be happy but I barely know him, and I shouldn't be this attracted to a boy but I am, and he watches alien documentaries, and I just think he's beautiful, and I feel like I'm dying—"
"LANCE."
Lance lets out a long breath that he didn't realize he was holding. He looks down and sees his hands shaking. He refuses to meet Hunks eyes.
There are a few beats of silence then, and Lance contemplates jumping out of the window to end this awkward misery.
Hunk takes a long, deep breath. "So obviously, we're talking about that drummer kid, right? What's his name? Keith? So I don't have to spend half the night guessing that."
Honestly Lance isn't at all surprised that Hunk knows who he's talking about. Hunk literally knows all.
"So how about you actually tell me what's been going on so I have some backstory to this random epiphany?"
Lance feels relief swirling comfortably in his chest. He realizes at that moment that he has missed Hunk so much; being able to confide in him, talk to him, laugh with him.
So he tells Hunk everything. Well, almost everything. He leaves out the part where Keith was sucking some guys dick in the bathroom, and only slightly goes over the assault incident. But he tells Hunk about how they talked at the bar, how they smoked weed together, how they went shopping for a new lip ring. He tells him about how he went to the bar every day for a week, talking with Shiro about everything and anything having to do with Keith. He tells him about how he feels like a puddle of his former self when Keith plays the drums, and then he tells him about meeting Pidge, and falling asleep next to Keith, and wanting to do it again and again.
He tells him about how they text almost everyday, and how Keith took him to try a duck sandwich and how they went to the junk yard and collected pieces of broken cars for hours like children. He tells him about how he felt like he needed to touch Keith all the time, and how his fingertips felt like they were on fire when Keith was in reach. With a shaky voice he tells him about how hurt Keith was when he left Lance alone, surrounded by piles of junk.
Hunk just sits still and listens, nodding occasionally so that Lance is aware he is still paying attention. Lance's voice is hoarse by the end of his rant, and he for some reason feels a little like he wants to cry. He takes a shaky breath and lets it out, finally finishing with, "And I'm terrified, Hunk. I'm so fucking scared. Because I have had four girlfriends, and I have never felt like this before. Not once. And he is a boy. And I am insane."
Hunk's face is unreadable. He looks at Lance and doesn't speak for a moment, but then the corners of his lips turn up into a smile, eyes narrowing slightly. "I knew you thought he was cool."
Lance wants to scream. "I hate you so very much."
"Lance, why did it take so long for you to tell me?"
"Because telling you would make it...a thing. I don't want it to be a thing."
"It is very much a thing, Lance." There is concern in his voice.
"I don't want it to be. It's not right. I'm with Kate. I like girls."
Hunk shrugs. "Maybe you like boys too."
"It doesn't... I'm not..."
"Or maybe you just like Keith."
Lance sighs, long and tired, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face behind them. "God dammit, Hunk. What the hell do I do? I can't like him."
Hunk moves so he is sitting on the bed next to Lance. He puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes slightly. "Hey, Lance, look at me."
Lance slowly turns his head towards Hunk.
"What is the number one thing that is bothering you right now?" Hunk's voice is gentle.
Lance doesn't even have to think about it. "He's upset with me, Hunk."
Hunk smiles softly. "Alright. How about you fix that first, and then we can worry about everything else?"
Lance tackles Hunk into a hug and Hunk squeezes him tightly, and for a minute Lance just bathes in the grateful feeling washing over him, that he always has someone like Hunk to pick up all of his broken pieces.
______________________________________________________________________
Lance is sitting at the bar and feeling like an idiot. He doesn't have his laptop. He doesn't have a pad of paper. He is just sitting. Alone.
Shiro comes out form the kitchen and looks at him, confused. Before he can say anything, Lance asks, "Is Keith here?"
"Uh, yeah, he's in the back with the band." Shiro frowns. "Is everything okay?" There is a small note of 'if you hurt my little brother I'm going to murder you' in his voice.
"Y-yeah, everything is fine. I just need to talk to him. Thanks." He practically jumps over the bar and races through the double doors leading to the kitchen. He hears Shiro behind him shouting "Lance wait you can't just hop over the—" but he blocks him out and keeps bounding forward.
He hears Keith talking before he sees him. There is a door at the back of the kitchen that is slightly open. Lance peeks in, making sure he is not seen, and sees Keith sitting on a table surrounded by his bandmates. One of them says something and Keith laughs out loud, placing this hands on his stomach and then poking his bandmate with the tip of his drumstick. He is saying something back that Lance can't hear, probably something witty, based on the size of the shit eating grin on his face, and his band mate punches him lightly on the shoulder.
Keith is giggling as one of the other bandmates gets up and walks towards him. He has confidence shining in his eyes and his bandmate says something above him, making Keith giggle even harder as he looks up at him. Keith is fluttering his eyelashes and he lifts one hand to other man's chest, poking it, and then slowly trailing his finger down his front. His bandmate swats his hand away jokingly. Keith smirks and then shrugs, tapping out an upbeat rhythm onto the edge of the table with him drumsticks.
Keith is such a flirt.
So this is what he looks like in action. Lance feels his stomach twisting in knots. He hasn't really fully seen this side of Keith before. His hands are shaking and he takes a deep, steadying breath before stepping forward and opening the door.
The minute Keith sees him, his face drops.
There are four pairs of eyes on him now.
"Hi...uh..." Lance has planned this a million times in his head but now he is completely speechless.
"Lance?"
"Hey, Keith."
"What on earth are you doing here?" He hops off the table and shoves his drumsticks into his waistband. He is wearing a grey hoodie and black pants. He looks good.
"I'll be right back guys." He says to his bandmates, and then he walks into the kitchen with Lance, shutting the door behind them.
They turn towards each other. Keith is frowning slightly and he has his arms crossed over his chest. "Lance." He sounds exasperated. "What are you doing here?"
There is an awkwardness that is tangible in the air. Lance reflexively start picking at his nails, which is what he always does when he is nervous. Keith is still gazing at him expectantly.
"Look, I'm sorry for...I'm sorry" Lance starts, voice shaking. "I know that I shouldn't have...I just..." He can't really bring himself to talk about what happened. So instead, he settles for, "Look, Keith, you are my friend, and I miss you."
Keith's expression softens.
"And I'm sorry." Lance says again, quickly.
Keith looks at him for a bit longer, but then sighs. "It's okay, Lance. I guess I'm just finally getting a taste of my own medicine, after all these years." He frowns, looking down. "And it pisses me off."
"What? What do you mean?"
Keith chuckles wryly. "I dont know, man, I mean...I've strung so many people along. Lead them on, ya know? And didn't care about their feelings. And now I'm on the other side, and it's worse than I thought it would be."
Lance just stares at him. "I- what do you-?"
"Nothing, just- I know we're friends." He smiles softly at Lance. "I'm glad we are. I miss you too."
Lance doesn't really know what to say.
"So, I'll forgive you." He is smirking, Lance lets out a long breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Okay... Okay good I'm glad."
They just stand in silence, looking at each other for a moment. Then Lance says, "You can go back to your practice. Sorry for interrupting."
Keith shrugs. "We weren't doing anything anyway, just fucking around. I can tell them I'm busy and we can get out of here if you want."
"I'd really like that." Lance agrees to it before he can think it through, which wasn't really the best idea. "Maybe you can help me with my stats homework. I don't understand jack shit about it."
Keith laughs again, loud and shameless, and Lance's heart warms tremendously.
He's okay with this. He can do this. He can just be Keith's friend. Keith has so many other guys to kiss, to fuck, to like, and Lance just shouldn't be one of them. Maybe this is how it is supposed to be.
______________________________________________________________________
After three hours of very frustrating stats homework, Lance flops down on his bed, mentally exhausted, and Keith flops down next to him. They lay, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling. That's when Lance realizes—
"Are those glow in-the-dark stars?" Keith asks incredulously.
Lance bushes furiously. "I forgot that I put those up," he chuckles nervously. "They, uh...help me fall asleep sometimes. When I'm really anxious."
"How?"
"I don't know...I like the idea of space?" He is such an idiot. He feels like an idiot. "It calms me down."
Keith chuckles darkly. "Fucking unbelievable."
Lance pouts. "What? It's not that bad."
"No," Keith shakes his head, giggling, "It's just unbelievable how incredibly adorable you are."
That doesn't help Lance's blushing situation. He feels heat flare all over his body. "I'm not adorable."
"You totally are."
They both giggle a little nervously, trying to fill the silence.
"I once dated this guy," Keith says, a smile in his voice, "who was so obsessed with squirrels that he had a poster of one on his ceiling, wearing a baseball cap."
"Shut up."
"I swear." Keith laughed. "He loved them. He swore they were godlike beings, always saying that humans underestimated them."
"That's..."
"Weird? Yeah I know. And I didn't realize until he was fucking me into the mattress and I looked over his shoulder and saw a giant squirrel staring down at me."
Lance barks a laugh. "That is possibly the greatest story I've heard today."
Keith shrugs. "I've dated a lot of weird-ass people."
"I'm almost jealous."
Keith snorts. "Don't be. Dating isn't all it's cracked up to be. That's why I just stick to hooking up."
Lance mulls the statement over in his brain and desperately wants to ask, but have you ever been in love? Who broke your heart? Can I hug you?
But he likes the light-hearted conversation they are having right now and doesn't want to ruin it. "So how long do you think your list is?
He knows Keith hears the question, because he can feel him rolling onto his side to face Lance. Lance rolls onto his side too, so they are laying face to face.
"My list?" Keith raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you know, of people you've hooked up with."
Keith's face is blank. "You go first."
"Me? How many people have I hooked up with? Hmmm." Lance already knows that he's only slept with three girls in his life, and those were his past three girlfriends. But if they are including just casual hookups, then...
"Maybe like seven?"
Keith smirks, eyes glinting. "You are so pure."
Lance falters, "What do you mean? Seven is a lot!"
Keith is grinning now, "Maybe for you."
Lance ignores the persistent heat collecting in his cheeks, his chest, between his legs. He tries not to think of Keith in several different compromising positions and fails miserably.
"Alright then," he snaps, "How many, Keith?"
"It's a long list, Lance. I was so drunk for half of them that I probably don't even remember."
"Just give it your best shot."
"I don't know? Twenty-five?"
"Twenty-five?"
"I don't know! I've been out of the closet for like seven years! A lot can happen in seven years." Keith's lips tug upwards, "I mean, I know there's been at least four in the last two months."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Damn."
"It's really not that impressive, anyone can hook up with anyone, it doesn't take much skill."
"Lies, it totally does. You've got something, Keith."
Keith's eyes are smiling before his mouth does. "Nah, I really don't."
"I'd never be able to pull as many guys as you do. I'm not nearly as sexy as you."
Silence.
Keith's shit-eating grin is too much for Lance's heart. He watches as Keith bites his lower lip, tugging at his lip ring, before releasing it; his lip is shiny and pink, plumping back to its original shape. Lance tracks the movement, his nerves jittery. Why did I say that out loud why did I say that out loud—
"So you think I'm sexy?" Keith's voice is so, so smooth.
"I-I mean," Lance stumbles over his words. "Anyone with eyes can see it. Even your brother said that you have a way with people."
Keith hums, low and satisfied. "Mmkay then." He sounds smug.
Lance's brain is screaming. He suddenly realizes how close they are, with a mere five inches of space separating their faces.
"You are, by the way." Keith's voice is shy.
Lance raises an eyebrow. "I'm what?"
"Sexy."
More silence.
Keith blinks slowly at him.
"You dont really think that." Lance says quietly, self consciously, remembering Shiro's words, "You're not his type at all...".
"But I do." Keith says, voice slow like molasses. "I really do."
Lance feels like he just ran a marathon. He sighs evenly to try and settle his irregular heart rate.
"Thanks, Keith.'
Keith nods. "Mmhm."
A few beats of silence pass and Keith slowly starts to sit up. Lance wants to scream and pull him back down, already missing the heat wafting off of his body.
"I should go." Keith says gruffly, "I have, uh, a late shift tonight at the bar."
"Oh, okay." Lance sits up. "You know the way out?"
Keith smiles. "Yeah...yeah I do" He picks up his bag. "See you soon?"
Lance smiles, a little crooked. "Yeah of course."
Keith waves a little shyly, and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
The silence that fills the room is deafening. Lance stares at the wall, lets his ears ring, hears his own heart beating dangerously fast, threatening to spill out of his chest.
And Lance already misses him.
It hits him like a train. A large, 10,000 ton, fast and unforgiving train. The feelings that he has been stifling for so long, suddenly swallowing him whole, at an overwhelmingly fast pace. His chest feels tight, and he feels like he's sinking. His stomach explodes with butterflies and a heat spreads across his face that burns dangerously. Keith's cinnamon smell is still lingering on Lance's pillow and it's all of a sudden too much, filling every breath and it feels suffocating.
He can't be Keith's friend.
He can't be Keith's friend.
Because he likes him so fucking much.
And suddenly he doesn't know what to do. He thinks about Kate. He thinks about Shiro. He thinks about Keith.
Anxiety swirls around in his head, making his vision hazy, making the rooms feel like it's spinning. He is scared. So fucking scared.
He flops down onto his bed and, although it is only 6PM, he prays for sleep to take him.