Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Liquor stores always bring different kinds of people. Especially when you had the space to allow many patrons inside. All different races, all different walks of life. Some knew their booze, others were newbies, even some that had been denied their sale because they liked hitting the sauce a little TOO much. Keith had seen it all in his few years working at the place.

Texas was just too big for him, along with holding so much of his trauma. On his 18th birthday, Keith gathered up as much of his belongings as he could grab on his own, got in his truck, and left. He'd moved to small town Wisconsin for something quieter as he got his life together. It was rough at first, but the lack of people made it easy to get his bearings and no one got in his business. He'd worked at the small, but busy, gas station in town for five years. It wasn't great pay, but it was a schedule he liked and it was enough for him to get by and save a little with each paycheck. His lifestyle wasn't extravagant, so it's not like he was in constant need of funds.

As he had gotten his grounding and started working on his mental health, he'd gained enough funds to adopt an animal for his emotional needs. Surprisingly, he was more of a dog person and found a huge Husky at the shelter no one wanted because of his size. This creature took to Keith immediately and he felt a connection with the dog after interacting with him. The shelter had named him Star; it was something about his eyes being so dark but having lighter flecks in the iris. Keith liked the idea, but not the name; he would change it to Kosmo.

Living in a small town of less than 500, Keith learned quite well about relying on others, something he had been scared to do back in Texas, having seen so much backstabbing and hate in big cities. His truck had broken down not long after the move. Unfortunately, the amount of work and age of the vehicle would be too much effort; it was cheaper to get something new. So he'd been walking to and from work and being thankful for the good graces of the townsfolk. He would make lasting friendships with people he never expected to.

Some of those people went to the nearby engineering school. When classes let out on Wednesdays and Saturdays in the spring, autumn and winter, the gas station would be crawling with them. Two in particular didn't fit the mold of Hicksville USA, and they seemed to like him too for the same reason. One was a tiny girl named Katie, who answered more to the nickname Pidge than anything. Her boyfriend was a much larger and darker man named Hunk. The size difference was a source of amusement for Keith and he would playfully tease them about it. They would become fast friends and start hanging out when the free time was there, helping Keith with errands that were difficult for him to accomplish by walking.

Keith would also spend a little time at the library, trying to find resources. At first, he wasn't finding much. After his fourth year in the small town, he was finding a lot more new material, for both mental health help and his beloved anime hobby. He would find this was because of the new librarian that lived right behind the building, who had also taken over as the maintenance person and director of the building. The Japanese American man was in a similar situation to Keith, but had more experience dealing with his issues purely because he was older. As the two would chat, the librarian asking to be called Shiro instead of his first name, he became a mentor and father figure of sorts for Keith to come to when he needed it. Shiro was very proud of his upgrades to the library and would tell them to Keith when they hung out, sometimes for things that weren't happening for months. The man had a childlike wonder about him and seemed to want to spread that to the community by making things a lot more available to the kids.

Eventually, Keith would get lucky in finding a new vehicle in town and pay it off quickly. From there, he began saving up to eventually leave the little town. He'd accomplished what he set out to do and he was pretty happy with himself for only taking five years. The move came faster than expected, as Pidge, Hunk and Shiro would pull together what money they could to help Keith. As a group, the four vehicles between them meant Keith didn't need to rent a U-Haul and he was able to pay them back for their help with beer, pizza, and doggy snuggles.

Finding a new job wasn't harrowing in the least. He heard back from the first round of places he looked into and really liked the interview with the liquor store. It was a pretty huge place, but not quite a warehouse. He'd wished he didn't have to wear a uniform again, but he wasn't going to be picky. Keith had been donning the black polo with the red stripe on the sleeves and khakis for three years now. He was currently 26 years old and could pull his black mullet up high, a great relief when summer came.

One of his favorite things he was happy about his success with was learning Spanish. He never wanted to learn another language at first. But, after the first move, he found the gas station had many migrant workers coming in after a hard day on the fields. One man in particular, Miguel, he had managed to be so friendly with and converse with enough times, started calling Keith "amigo" and slowly started saying more words and phrases in his native tongue for Keith to learn. He noticed Miguel didn't do this with the other cashiers and felt special. Keith genuinely enjoyed this connection, so began slowly studying Spanish on his own time. By the time he left the gas station, he'd learned a lot, but not enough to consider himself fluent.

Keith continued to study through dictionaries and phone apps. After the first year of working at the liquor store, he heard a familiar "¡HOLA!" ring through the store. Keith had just clocked out for the day, so felt no need to keep a professional attitude. He bolted to the door, hugged Miguel, and was able to hold up a conversation in Spanish with him. Keith was told that his old manager at the gas station had promised to tell customers, ones she knew he actually liked, where he had gone once she knew. The Korean American didn't really dig into social media until the second move. He'd added the white haired and dark skinned woman after making his account, since she'd been good to him while he was her employee...she probably got the info from there...he thought to himself. Keith didn't have many friends on there, not having anyone back in Texas and his circle limited to the two Wisconsin towns.

It would be a day that Miguel was in, buying his favorite Chelada as usual, that Keith's life would change.

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Keith was having a long conversation with Miguel. He was going back home soon and wanted to say that he appreciated and enjoyed Keith's friendship. During this exchange, Keith noticed a young man walk in. He looked over the shelves, seeming confused and clueless as to what he was looking for. Keith wasn't initially worried and continued chatting, as this was likely his last time seeing Miguel. He would deal with the newcomer shortly.

The young man found his way to the aisle the two men were in and started staring intently at Keith. At first, he appeared to be trying to hide the fact that he was looking. However, Keith had always been someone aware of his surroundings and was growing concerned at the, what he believed was, shady behavior. It didn't take long for the man to not look away at all and just continue to stare. Quickly exchanging contact information, Keith said his last goodbye to Miguel. He sniffled as the middle aged man left, but tried not to cry because he was still working.

Seeing Keith was now free, the new customer slowly made his way over to him. Keith, feeling slightly threatened due to the staring, was about to make his way behind the counter for safety. That is, until the man finally spoke. His voice was sweet and, when Keith spun around, so was his little smile. What caught him off guard, and was the biggest reason he turned to look at him, was what he'd said. Or, rather, how it was spoken.

"¿Por favor, me puedes ayudar?" He had caramel skin and ocean blue eyes. The man was rubbing the back of his neck out of nervousness, his hand just grazing the chestnut hair that sat at the nape of his neck. "Nunca he comprado espíritu antes." His smile was sheepish and he blushed a little, Keith having no doubt he was telling the truth about being a newbie to booze.

...gods, Keith!...the taller man mentally scolded himself...he doesn't speak English...no wonder he was staring at you!...he was likely nervous trying to ask someone for help and you were a saving grace for him!...The Asian American fully faced the man and smiled amicably. Holding out his hand, Keith made the universal sign for "gimme". Understanding right away, the man fumbled pulling his wallet out of his jean pocket and giving his ID to Keith...huh, ONLY a year younger?...could have fooled me...He did a once over, making sure it wasn't fake.

"Muy bien, Lance, vamos a empezar," Keith replied, smiling widely as he handed the card back. The pair went around most of the store, Lance really uncertain as to what he wanted to purchase. He was buying for a special occasion with his family and didn't want just one thing. Keith would cross his arms and tilt side to side as he thought, then would bring Lance to a spot and talk about the alcohol in great detail, hoping it would be what he wanted. Lance would fidget with the sleeve of his shirt while he contemplated his choices. Keith also noticed he rubbed the back of his neck a lot, though the act dwindled the longer they talked. It would take a half hour for Lance to pick out three different bottles, make his purchase, thank Keith and leave. Keith, a little overwhelmed from the interaction and relieved it was over, sighed heavily and brought a shaky hand to his forehead.

Sensing Keith's discomfort, Kosmo came over to his person and gently pulled on his pant leg, forcing Keith to sit down once the Husky managed to pull him to the nearest chair. Kosmo wasn't a therapy animal, just emotional support, and he didn't have any training; he just seemed to know what to do and had a bond with Keith that the black haired man couldn't put into words. Despite not being a therapy animal, management allowed Kosmo to come to work with Keith and was, basically, the store mascot. Once in the chair, the manager came over to check on Keith. The older man rarely had to see Kosmo actually working and was worried.

"Are you okay, m'boy?" he softly asked, dialing back his usually energetic personality, after making sure Keith focused on his face.

"I'm fine," Keith chuckled exhaustively, playfully tugging on the ginger mustache in front of him. "That was just a bit...much...I hope I don't have to see him again..." The manager nodded but, still worried, told Keith to take an early lunch and come back when he was ready. He watched Keith get up and go to the break room, Kosmo staying in line with his hip, not being ahead nor behind.

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Much to Keith's dismay, Lance would be back a little over a week later. After that, he would show up with more frequency, but at varied times and shorter durations each visit at first. Each consecutive meeting had both men being more comfortable around each other, their conversations beginning to be more casual and steering away from business. Keith started to look forward to when Lance would come in. The slightly taller man wasn't perfect with his Spanish, so there were times Lance would giggle and correct Keith. The first time he heard the sound come from Lance, Keith blushed and took a moment to recover.

Lance was, astonishingly, sly and managed to figure out when Keith would go on break just by coming in at random and guessing his shift times on certain days. At least twice he'd brought his own food and the pair sat outside together, Kosmo resting at Keith's feet. Keith was pretty certain one of those times Lance was on his own lunch break from work. Lance, despite having a good time, would still buy something as a way to ease his guilt of taking up space at the establishment for so long.

He was, however, seemingly getting nervous around Keith again, prompting Kosmo to nudge Lance's hand with his nose to comfort him. Keith was the one talking more and, during one particular visit, noticed the way Lance was looking at him. His head was down, but his eyes were looking up at Keith, with his cheeks and tips of his ears covered in a blush. Keith was starting to connect the dots, but he wasn't going to tell Lance his thoughts. He was still going to give him shit though.

"¿Qué pasa con esas mejillas rojas, Lance?" he snickered as he poked the shorter man's cheek. Lance's blush would take over his entire face as he swatted Keith's hand away with a whine.

"¡Déjame en paaaaaaaz!" Lance would start to fidget with the hem of his shirt and hurriedly leave, flustered. Keith grinned in victory and then realized that Lance didn't buy anything this visit. He came just to see Keith, not planning to spend any money. The older male had always known he was attracted to men, he just didn't think there would be much of a dating scene out in the boonies, so never really bothered and figured he'd let someone come to him...do I like him though?...Keith thought to himself. He started to head behind the counter to gather his things, as he was leaving early for an appointment with his therapist.

"So," his coworker started, as if reading his mind. Nyma acted dull, but she was pretty smart, not that it was usually with the greatest intentions. She tossed her long, blonde ponytail over her shoulder. "Is your amigo going to be a novio?" Keith smiled that she was picking up some Spanish, even if it was with the excuse to tease him. "He's quite the chico amante." Nyma was a part time worker, but she had seen the more recent events and saw how close they already were. While she liked picking on Keith, she thought what the two were starting to have was very sweet and that Lance was a natural romantic.

Keith thought to himself as he clocked out at the computer, Kosmo waiting patiently while getting ear stritches from the young woman. He replayed all their interactions in his mind as he adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder and pulling out his keys, the Master Sword and Todoroki keychains clicking together. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in front of the second register, his smile small but bright.

"...yeah..." He had made up his mind. Keith promised himself to bring up the change in behavior next time Lance came in. He'd listen to what the younger man had to say and let things play out from there. Keith still had some doubts that Lance actually liked him like that, so didn't want to put all his cards on the table in case he was reading the situation wrong. On the off chance he was wrong, he didn't want to ruin the obvious friendship the two shared.

That day would never come.

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It had been roughly a week and a half since Lance had been seen at the store. He hadn't even shown up outside of Keith's shift. It would be that day, however, Pidge came for a visit instead. Keith was ecstatic to see her and gave her a hug when she announced she was there. She was still in her uniform, apparently having come straight over after work.

"Hey bud, how have you been?!"

"Livin' the dream," he chuckled. She nudged him harshly with her elbow. "You know me, just working. Seeing my therapist. The usual."

"Which is why I'm here! You, my friend, have been not been taking time for yourself," she said with a glare. Keith swallowed hard. This would not be the first time the small woman forced some good old R&R on him. He'd needed it, but the last time seemed drastic, with taking a whole week off from work. Yeah, maybe he worked too much, but it certainly distracted him from his problems. She noticed the look he was giving her. "I promise, it won't be like last time," she smiled sweetly, Keith believing her seeing how genuine it seemed. "My best friend just moved back and he's having a housewarming party! He's a gamer too, so you can bet there will be a console or two going," she said cheerily, hoping to entice the man with the draw of video games.

Keith agreed, but only after thinking about it for a bit. He liked the idea of a gamer party and had never actually been to one before, since he didn't count the times he'd game with Pidge and Hunk. The thought of finding more people like his friends made him smile and he realized it had been a long time since he let himself do anything fun like that.

Taking a taxi for the day, Keith worked his shorter than usual shift the following night, changing clothes and putting his piercings back where they belonged after clocking out. Keith left Kosmo at home this time, Pidge herself knowing what to look out for so that Keith didn't feel like a burden. The guy always felt weird bringing the Husky anywhere that wasn't work or the therapist's office, despite her best efforts to reassure him. She picked him up from work and would take him home when the party was over.

When they got there, the party was just starting. There was idle chatter in the living room by the other people, as an N64 was getting booted up with Mario Kart. Keith rubbed his hands together evilly and snagged one of the four controllers before they could get claimed. Plopping down on the floor, he waited patiently for the game to load and other people to sit near him to play.

"I think you'll like my bestie," Pidge said as she took a seat next to Keith. "He's good people and I've known him for quite some time." While she was talking, Keith heard a voice from the kitchen.

"Hey, almost done with the food everyone! I'll be out shortly!" The older man blinked slowly, feeling the voice familiar. However, he couldn't seem to place it, so he internally shrugged and stopped thinking about it.

"He defended me when we were in school together," Pidge continued. "I got bullied a lot and not many people were in my corner enough to say anything." Her eyes grew sad and she brought her gaze down, Keith touching her shoulder comfortingly. He could only imagine what kind of bullying a person like Pidge would have had to deal with. In that moment, the light from the kitchen was blocked in the doorway and someone came out with two, enormous trays of food. "Ah, there's the man of the hour!" she shouted and Keith looked up to see this special person in his close friend's life.

His eyes went wide with shock and his heart started beating faster, but not in a good way.

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It took a moment for the host to notice Keith on the floor and the way he was staring. Stormy grey eyes locked with ocean blue. Even though it only took seconds, time seemed to slow down for Keith. He dropped the controller with a dull thud, got up and darted down the hall. The younger man fumbled with the trays of food, almost dropping them, in his haste to put them down on the table quickly. Hearing "fuckfuckfuckshitshitshit" behind him, Keith darted into the first room he could and locked himself in: the bathroom. There was an impact against the door, but it didn't startle Keith. He knew it was likely because the man ran into the door, not because he was trying to force his way in. There was dead silence for a few moments, Keith sitting on the toilet and bringing his knees to his face. He sniffled as he heard a hand run gently over the door.

"...hey..." a voice said on the other side, softly and calmly. He would have known about the Korean American's panic attacks from all the time they had recently spent together and was trying to keep one from happening. However, that's when the dam broke.

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, LANCE MCCLAIN!!!" No wonder Keith couldn't place why the voice seemed familiar; Lance had been speaking perfect English in the kitchen. "...I trusted you...and you played me for a foo-ol..." he sobbed, hiccuping.

"N-no! I..." Lance started, his hand clutching the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart. He took a deep breath, trying to even out and soften his voice so the man on the other side wouldn't get even more upset. "I admit, initially, I was just messing with you. But I thought you seemed pretty cool during that first time. Something was drawing me to you, but I never thought I'd be coming back the way I did. I..." he paused, touching his forehead to the door and closing his eyes, "...I couldn't stop thinking about you..."

Keith's sobs had quieted and he listened intently over his sniffles and hiccups. His heart stopped briefly hearing the last part and he let his feet sink to the floor, grounding him. Hazel eyes slipped closed as he wiped his nose on his sleeve and he continued to hear the man out, his hands gripping the toilet seat underneath him. Once again, he heard a hand move across the smooth surface of the door.

"Man, I was just surprised. Someone that lives in this conservative state bothered to learn a second language, speaking it fluently? And a language most people in these parts are going to have racist leanings against? Color me impressed," Lance continued. "My family is from Cuba and I rarely get to speak to people in my first language that I'm not related to. Not around here anyway. You gave me a little piece of home." He pushed himself off the door and turned around, now leaning his back against it. "I didn't try to make a fool out of you. But I will say that I took advantage of you for my own selfishness. Being able to freely speak Spanish where I grew up here in America was nice and I used you for that escape." He looked back at the door out of the corner of his eye. "I really did intend to tell you the truth. In fact, I was going to 'fess up when I worked up the courage to ask you out." There was a long pause as Lance stood ramrod straight out of panic. "...shit!...um...regardless, I should have been honest with you."

Keith's head whipped around to stare at the door as he inhaled sharply. He loosened his muscles, slowly stood up, and made his way to the door. Lying his hand flat against the door, Keith touched his forehead to the frame. Unbeknownst to Keith, Lance had flipped around again and was doing the same on the other side. He listened to Lance's breathing through the crack and let his heart guide him.

"I'm truly sorry. All I can hope is that I haven't messed things up so badly that we can't at least still be friends." Lance breathed in deeply. "I really like you, but if that can't happen because of this, I hope I haven't ruined our friendship." He pushed himself off the door once more. "But I will understand if you don't want to be friends after this. If that's the choice you make, I'll leave you alone."

Lance stared at the door, as if he could burn a hole in it if he did so for long enough. He blinked in surprise and relief as he heard the lock click and the door began to open, Keith's red and tear stained face peering out from the opening. Lance smiled sweetly and sadly, backing up a few steps so the older man wouldn't feel blocked in. Looking around, Keith turned off the light and came all the way out into the hallway. He was still a little shaky and Lance was worried.

"Do you need anything?" Lance asked out of concern for, what he still hoped was, his friend. The Hispanic male began rambling again and Keith just wanted him to stop. He'd turned off his brain and was listening to his heart, wishing the man in front of him would do the same. When he'd calmed down enough to move again, Keith effectively cut off Lance by walking into his arms and resting his head on his shoulder. After getting over the initial shock, Lance understood what Keith needed. Hearing a little sniffle near his ear, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith and rubbed his back, his hands settling on the man's waist when his arms got tired. Lance waited until Keith broke contact first. "Can we start over?" Keith backed up, confused. Lance smiled and held out his hand for Keith to take. "I'm Lance McClain." Keith returned the smile and took his hand, shaking it gently.

He took a moment before he responded, thinking back to what Lance had said to him through the door about giving him a piece of home. Keith thought it was the best way to show he forgave Lance. The older man stopped moving his arm and looked directly into Lance's eyes as he introduced himself.

"Mi nombre es Keith Kogane." Neither of them moved as Lance's wheels spun, his face splitting into a huge grin once he realized what Keith was implying. Even if this would only end up being platonic, Keith was happy to do that for him.

The two of them looked at each other and finally got the chance to admire the other. Since it was their first time meeting outside of Keith's work, both of them looked and acted more casual than usual. Keith's hair was pulled back so it was out of his face, a small ponytail at the back of his head and the rest of his hair cascading around his shoulders. Because it was tied back, Lance could see the black tunnels in his earlobes. Lance could also now see his face clearer, picking out the lip and septum rings, the closures being red...he probably takes them out for work and that's why I never noticed before...He was wearing a red shirt, the loose sleeves stopping at his elbows and the bottom hem showing a hint of his midriff; thin, black leggings with holes in the knees; purple bracelets made out of leather, looking out of place with the rest of the outfit; and black boots that came up only to his ankles with the way the tops were folded down, the inner fabric being black and red checkers. As Keith tucked a stray hair behind his ear, blushing a little as he realized he was being checked out, Lance caught what looked like a simple, curved, black tattoo just behind his ear

"Soy un Escorpio," Keith chuckled as he noticed Lance's fixated gaze on his neck. He moved some of his hair to show the tattoo fully, the symbol for the fall time astrological sign seeming so crazily dark against Keith's pale skin. Lance then started to laugh and Keith was about to get upset. Realizing Keith was misunderstanding him, Lance turned around and motioned for Keith to pull down his shirt. The black haired man titled his head in confusion as he stepped forward and pulled on Lance's shirt collar. On Lance's upper back was a simple tattoo; a constellation drawn in light blue. It took Keith a moment, because he knew his signs and symbols, but not astronomy...he's a Leo...

It was now Keith's turn to study Lance and he was going to take the moment to soak him all in. He was wearing a light blue undershirt, the bottom hem and neckline in white; a darker blue button up that was left open; grey jeans that looked new; and white socks with royal blue toes and heels. The right pants pocket had a silver chain coming out that attached to one belt loop, presumably connected to his wallet. Lance's left earlobe had a small, sapphire stud in it, held in with silver. His chestnut hair was short and messy but was slightly stiff with product, implying the look was deliberate. Keith stepped forward and caught the faintest dusting of freckles over the bridge of Lance's nose now that he was so close.

"Verdaderamente también me gustas, Lance..." Keith breathed softly with his head down, growing red in the face. When he looked up, Lance's eyes were twinkling and he seemed like his joy would burst at the seams. He reached over but stopped just shy of Keith, waiting for permission to touch him. Keith smiled sweetly and took Lance's hand, a tingling feeling filling up his chest that caused his smile to grow. Lance began to move, tugging Keith back out to the living room.

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Keith took in his surroundings, having not paid attention when he'd run. The house was big, but not overly so. It definitely seemed like more than Lance lived here and assumed the man still lived with his parents. The space was not being wasted and Keith wondered what his family was like. As they got to where everyone was gaming, Pidge noticed them first. She screeched, launching herself off the sofa and over to her friends.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" she blurted as she grabbed their interlocked hands and held them up. Keith was becoming embarrassed, but Lance had no such qualms.

"Nothing," he grinned, looking over at Keith and pulling him a little closer once his bestie relinquished their hands.

"All this time-but-aren't you straight? You've never had a boyfriend!"

"That you know of," Lance laughed. "Pidge, I've been bisexual for as long as I can remember. I didn't mean to hide it from you." He frowned at her, feeling sad that the distance of living in Cuba recently had made it so there were things she didn't know about him. "It just never came up..."

"It's cool," she replied, shaking her head. "I just want you to be happy. If I'm being honest, I'm more shocked that you two already know each other." Pidge looked between the two of them. "Not a match I expected, but you two seem content." She gave them her blessing and shooed them away after Lance checked with the people attending the party, making sure they were happy and fed. He made some notes for them all, like getting alcohol from the kitchen if they wanted it, before pulling Keith along again.

"Estoy casi triste por tu atuendo," Lance started as he pulled up a stool for Keith, dragging it noisily to the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Amo a un hombre de uniforme." Lance waggled his eyebrows at Keith and the older man faked being offended as he sat down. He gasped loudly and held his hand over his chest. After a moment of holding the pose, he chuckled and rested his arms on the marble counter, the metal bits of his bracelets clacking against the surface. "¿Usted bebe?" Lance questioned as he opened the fridge. Whether it was intentional or not, Lance's butt was sticking out as he bent over. Keith tilted his entire body to the left in an attempt to enjoy the view.

"Si," Keith replied, righting himself so he wouldn't get caught. He was happy to know Lance didn't assume he drank just because he worked at a liquor store. Keith wasn't a huge drinker, but he liked it every now and then. It was the taste for him, not the actual getting drunk part, that he enjoyed. Lance used his hip to shut the door, tossing a can of Bud to Keith. Because it was without warning, Keith caught it with the grace of a deflated balloon.

"Wow, zalameeeero," Lance dragged and laughed hard as Keith grew red and opened his beer.

"¡Cállate!" he huffed and took his first sip, slurping loudly to drown out his annoyance. Lance went around and grabbed a large Ziplock bag of, what looked like, fries and tossed it on the island. Before he came back, he grabbed a stool for himself and sat across from Keith, opening his beer and taking a big swig of it.

"Yucca chips. Mi mamá los hizo," Lance explained as he watched Keith open the bag and sniff it, looking confused. Keith took one and tentatively took a bite. He found he didn't mind the taste, but it definitely wasn't his favorite thing. But, then again, he wasn't familiar with Hispanic food...no time like the present...

The pair talked for literal hours, wanting to get to know each other better now that the air was clear. Lance would never truly realize how considerate his friends were. The potential couple could be seen from the living room and no one wanted to disturb them, so everyone left relatively sober. Pidge, also not wanting to walk in on them and believing they were hitting it off really well, left without telling either of them. She assumed Keith was spending the night and she was getting tired.

Lance was filled in on Keith's past and why he has Kosmo. How long he had suffered as an abuse case. The eternity it felt he had to wait until he was able to leave Texas. His fear in starting over with this life, scared he'd fail. Lance tentatively touched Keith's right cheek, after Keith nodded in affirmation, his fingers gently running over a scar there as Keith's eyes closed. The injury had been caused by a broken bottle, used to "teach him a lesson". It hurt Lance's heart hearing it all, eventually grabbing Keith's hand with his free one and tenderly running his thumb over the pale knuckles, Keith squeezing Lance's hand gently. After a while, he noticed Keith was shaking again. Realizing this, Lance tried to ask him about his hobbies and such, hoping the topic change would help, as well as starting to speak to him in English. If Keith could speak Spanish for him when he was in a good mood, Lance could damn well speak English for him when his mind was not in the right place.

Keith didn't get much out, opting to have Lance talk about himself instead while Keith messed with his bracelets. Choosing the opposite direction, Lance talked about the things he enjoyed before discussing his past. While he had a wonderful life, he had clinical depression to line up with Keith's PTSD fueled anxiety. This came as a huge shock to Keith. Never, in a million years, would he have guessed that of Lance, someone who seemed so bubbly all the time. Lance had been getting help and had, ultimately, been why he spent his recent adult years in Cuba with his family before moving back here again. His family, which Keith found out was huge with four siblings, was insanely supportive.

Sucking in a breath, Lance pulled off his button up. It was clear to Keith that he was becoming privy to something not many others knew about unless they were related to him. His hazel eyes widened as Lance tossed his shirt on the counter away from them. Lighter colored marks were littered on his arms, looking like tiger stripes on his caramel skin. Keith reached over to inspect, stopping short in case he didn't have permission to touch. Lance smiled sadly before moving his right arm closer to Keith, using his left to work on his second beer. Keith was relieved to see all the scars were very old, but worried because there were so many.

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Lance's reveal didn't put a damper on their conversation. Rather, so much information was being processed between the two of them that they felt better just enjoying each other's company. They held each other's hands over the island, staring into each other's eyes. It was quiet, which they found weird during a party in full swing, but they didn't mind.

"You must be hungry?" Lance asked, being the first to break the silence. "I know those chips weren't filling." He turned to look at the stove, thinking about throwing a pizza in. That was when he noticed the clock. "SHIT!" Keith was startled by the shout and peered over. It was four in the morning. As Lance shot up to go out to the living room, finding the house empty, Keith began to panic.

"KOSMO!" The poor dog was probably wondering where his person was and had to go to the bathroom, and was probably hungry to boot. How did so much time pass when it felt like just minutes to Keith? He never intended to stay so late!

"Want me to drive you home?" Lance asked, not even bothering to put his shirt back on; Keith was more important than hiding his arms. He also knew the two beers he had over such an extended period of time would not affect his driving. Keith began fidgeting with his bracelets as he nodded. The shorter male grabbed his keys and hastily got his blue sneakers on, Keith darting out to the car he believed was Lance's and waited, impatiently pulling on the locked handle.

Lance got outside and gently moved Keith to the car he actually owned, letting him in first and shutting the door for him before jogging around to the driver's side. As he juggled his keys and his Pokéball keychain with the built in flashlight so he could find the lock, he had his cell clamped between his ear and shoulder. He only hoped she would ans-

"What in the actual FUCK, Lance?!"

"PIDGE. KEITH. ADDRESS. NOW!" Lance yelled as he ripped open his door and got inside. She dialed back her temper, concerned why Lance was asking when it was obvious Keith was still with him. Understanding it meant Keith was unable to give Lance that information, she gave the address without hesitation. Lance knew where the street was, so hung up immediately after thanking her.

Going as fast as he could without getting pulled over, Lance tried to get Keith to focus when he heard him start to hyperventilate. Reaching over the center console, Lance held Keith's hand and squeezed in a supportive manner. When they were stopped at a light, Keith turned in his seat just as Lance looked over at him. Lance watched him, seeing him fidget endlessly with his bracelets with his free hand and realizing they were not meant to match the outfit; they served to help Keith through an episode. Keith felt a little better being able to focus on Lance's face. The younger man showed a small smile before he had to bring his attention back to the road.

Lance hadn't even stopped the car when Keith tore off, making a mad dash to his front door once it was visible from the vehicle. While Lance parked, Keith fumbled with his keys. He finally managed to unlock the door and Kosmo nearly knocked him over, overjoyed to see his person. After being greeted, Keith fell to his knees, sobbing and burying his face into Kosmo's neck fur. Kosmo, worried about his person, tried to comfort Keith, but the Asian American had the Husky in a death grip.

Kneeling next to Keith, Lance brought a hand up and rubbed his back, hoping it would calm him down. Keith moved to hug Lance tightly as the brunette made shushing sounds and ran a hand through the long hair. As his cries softened and slowed, Lance picked him up and carried him inside. It was dark, but there were some nightlights around the house. Lance found a couch and sat Keith upon it. Making sounds to Kosmo, Lance located the back door and let the dog out to go to the bathroom. While he was out, Lance managed to locate his food and filled the dog's dish.

It wasn't until the adrenaline wore off that Lance realized how cold it was, his shoes wet from the morning, spring dew. Kosmo scratched on the door and Lance let him in, the Husky making his way to Keith in no time. Having an idea, Lance went over to the kitchen and turned on the overhead light. It took him a bit to find everything, but he knew Keith would probably feel better after getting some food in his stomach.

Keith, who was zoning out and pulling on his bracelets so much there was a mark on his wrists, was unaware of the sounds coming from the kitchen. It wasn't until Lance gently got his attention, as not to scare him, that he realized Lance was even still there. Lance sat down sideways on the couch and motioned for Keith to sit between his legs. Mentally exhausted, Keith just followed orders without questions. Once he was settled, Lance brought his arms around and gave him a bowl with a plate on top. The plate had a grilled cheese sandwich on it. Underneath, the bowl was filled with tomato soup. He thought the gesture was sweet and, once Lance handed him a spoon, realized how hungry he was and dove in.

Lance yawned, hating how badly he crashed after an adrenaline rush. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around Keith, his hands clasped over his abdomen. Groggy, his eyes slipped shut as he put his cheek against the back of Keith's shoulder, sighing contentedly. Keith demolished his food not long after and set his dirty dishes on the coffee table. Smiling, he let one hand sit atop of Lance's, the other reaching behind to pet Lance's hair softly.

It was Keith's turn to have an idea. Getting off the couch, which was difficult when Lance whined at losing warmth, he pulled the Cuban up with him. Lance didn't know what was happening. Blinking tiredly, he cocked his head as Keith led him through the house.

"You aren't in any shape to drive home," Keith stated plainly. In the little bit of light that came from the sun just starting to rise, Lance could barely make out that he was being taken to Keith's bedroom. Guiding Lance, Keith got them both in bed, Kosmo jumping up to join them not long after. Keith chuckled as Lance sought out his warmth again, his long arms finding their way around Keith and pulling him close.

"Are you okay?" Lance asked sleepily.

"Aside from residual jitters, I'm fine." Keith adjusted himself and pressed his forehead to Lance's. "Thank you." Lance opened his eyes and the two got lost in each other. Slowly closing the space between them, their lips met. Lance could feel Keith's smile against his own and it made his heart jump. Keith's heart slowed, Lance's presence giving him a sense of calm he hadn't felt before.

They broke apart and Keith played with Lance's hair, Lance deciding to run his thumb over Keith's cheekbone. The pair fell asleep, tangled up in each other, realizing this was the happiest either of them had been. While neither man believed in soul mates, they knew they'd be together for a long time.