#...this got REALLY self deprecating really fast this was not supposed to happen omg. this was supposed to be a funny post about how i have a

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

See Me For Me

I found this in my drafts and I think I was trying to get somewhere specific but I forget where sooooo. HAVE A ONE-SHOT!

It was a bad day.

That was putting it lightly, but in the end, that’s really what it came down to. There was no point in embellishing and adding, “It’s been a wretched, horrible, self-deprecating day filled with unwanted memories, analyses, and runaway thoughts that don’t stop racing.” That was too much.

All Lance could bring it down to was- it was a bad day.

He supposed he could understand why he thought the way he did, why he felt these “bad days” so often. He’d read about it in high school classes and he’d seen things on TV that mirrored it. He’d even learned about it in an intro course in college. The closest he could come to understanding was depression.

The thing was, “Depression” doesn’t exist in a Hispanic household. No, there’s nothing wrong in Lance’s brain. Nothing that exercise, praying, and working couldn’t fix. He was just being lazy when he didn’t want to get out of bed. He was just being dramatic when he felt like he couldn’t breathe because his thoughts had gone too fast in his head. He was just too emotional like the jotito he was- as one of his uncles so playfully called him- and that was why things made him cry or made him angry. It was in his head, he was making it up.

Well, at least one part of that sentence was right.

Lance had gone a long time without really acknowledging the things he felt, and how serious it was. It wasn’t until he met Keith in college his second semester freshman year that he began to fathom what exactly was happening in his brain.

Keith had been… a struggle to befriend. He was quiet and typically look annoyed or bored. Like he was too good, too smart to be dealing with the people around them. Which was probably true, if his tests were anything to go by. Keith had never gotten anything below 100% on his exams. Lance stayed in the 90’s, but only managed a 100 on the first exam.

By the end of the semester, their professor had put them into groups for a group project, and Lance had the luck to get Keith as a partner. Their other group member had decided to fall of the face of the planet. Lance later discovered they’d had a bad drug trip and ended up dropping out.

Regardless, Keith and Lance ended up spending a lot of time- which was actually just Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday working on the project. Keith had a habit of trying to take over the project completely, which Lance had to snap at him for before offering his own suggestion. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish the way confusion then begrudging agreement passed over Keith’s face at those times.

In the end, they had the best project. Maybe that’s where things would have ended for the two of them, if it hadn’t been for the fact that the time they worked on their project happened to be one of Lance’s “bad days.”

It had been the last day they were working on it, and Keith had noticed Lance wasn’t really contributing much, he’d noticed the way Lance zoned out and seemed to deflate.

He’d asked Lance if he was okay. It was almost like Lance could feel the shift of Keith going from ethereal genius from another realm to human and awkward and kind. He didn’t have that same bored expression, but one of genuine worry, which Lance hadn’t seen much of on campus.

That wasn’t to say that Lance had decided to spill all of his life story to Keith and that they had some sudden revelation that resulted in a strong, bonded friendship. Lance had simply smiled, nodded, and said he was just tired. He stood up to grab a soda then continued working, forcing himself to focus and then fell asleep as soon as Keith had left his dorm.

It was the fact that Keith had noticed. That he’d cared. That he’d asked.

At least, Lance figured that’s what had him walk after Keith on their last day of class to suggest they get lunch together that day to celebrate their passing grade. Keith had obviously been caught off guard, but he’d agreed.

Keith didn’t talk much, and that day he listened more than anything. Lance was the one who enjoyed talking and joking. In fact, he’d managed enough jokes to make Keith laugh seven times in the span of their lunch and their walk back to one of the dorm buildings. Lance had only started counting because he realized he’d never heard Keith laugh before that day.

That night, Lance might have had a dream about making Keith laugh and receiving kisses as a reward for it. Maybe.

It wasn’t until June though that Lance allowed himself to indulge in a fantasy of holding Keith’s hand and kissing him when he pleased. It was pride month, and while Lance had always wanted to go to a Pride Parade, he knew he couldn’t without a disapproving look from his dad and confused looks from his siblings. Being back home was great, but Lance missed his freedom.

He’d kept in touch with Keith, luring him in by sending him funny posts and Vine compilations for a while before Keith began responding back quicker and more often. Before long, they were texting throughout the day from morning until night about everything and nothing at all.

It was one of those June days that Lance had asked Keith what he was doing just to keep the conversation going.

Going to pride parade wby?

Lance had suddenly forgotten that he was helping cook lunch and hunched into his phone.

Pride parade????

Yea, the lgbt one.

Lance had stared at the message for a while, wondering if he should play it off or be straightforward and ask Keith his sexual orientation. But he didn’t want to make a fool of himself and end up having Keith say something like, “Going to pride doesn’t make you automatically gay, I’m an ally.” Or something.

He must’ve taken too long thinking of a response because the next message that came through was, Did that freak you out?

He hurriedly answered that no, it didn’t, he just had never been able to go despite his interest in it. What’s it like?

A few moments later, a photo came in of Keith wearing a black shirt with a rainbow on it with Do I Look Gay Now? in blocky white letters as he stood next to a taller Asian guy holding up a variety of flags. Behind them, he could see flags and posters and colorful people in glitter or simple shirts expressing their sexuality.

Lance’s excitement over his shirt was tampered down by the very muscular guy that was also in the picture. He felt his face heat up and despite his mother scolding him for letting the tortillas burn, he had to answer.

It looks so fun! That your bf? :o

After that, he forced himself not to look at his phone until lunch was ready and the table was set and everyone was sitting down to eat. He checked his phone quickly before the actual eating started and his mom scolded him for using the phone at the table.

Noooooo omg that’s a friend from highschool. Like a brother to me.

I’m single

Lance couldn’t help his smile at the second message.

After that, Lance managed to sneak in small little flirty messages that could be overlooked. Which they were. Keith was apparently very dense about someone flirting with him, and never seemed to catch on.

When they got back for their sophomore year of college, Lance had immediately gone to greet Keith when he got back, since they were in the same dorm building. The guy from the picture was there, and he smiled when he saw Lance.

“Hey, you must be the friend Keith made,” he said.

Keith came out of the room to get another box and smiled when he saw Lance. “Hey! How was your summer? This is Shiro. Shiro, that’s Lance.” He tucked a loose strand of hair back and leaned over to hoist up another box, his biceps bulging. “Help me out?”

Lance gulped and nodded, not missing the small chuckle that Shiro let out as he rolled in a suitcase to the room. Lance managed to drag another box into the room and Keith aired his muscle shirt let his hair down from the small ponytail it was in at the nape of his neck.

“That’s good enough for now. I’m tired.”

“Alright. I gotta head out if I don’t want it to get dark while driving,” Shiro said. “See you later, Keith. Behave and work hard.”

Keith grumbled and hugged him, which Lance suddenly craved. He wondered how close to Keith he’d have to get before finally being able to freely give him a hug.

Shiro turned to Lance and smiled brightly. “It was nice meeting you after hearing so much about you, Lance.” Lance raised his eyebrows, immediately looking over at Keith who looked like he was fuming and gave Shiro a look that would’ve definitely killed Lance if he’d received it. But Shiro just kept smirking at Lance and then clapped Keith on the shoulder before heading out.

Lance looked back at Keith who was fumbling with a box. “Aw, you talk about me.”

Keith looked up and rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just when you say something stupid.” Lance’s face fell, but Keith wasn’t looking at him anymore. After a few seconds, Keith sighed and looked up. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just… I don’t really make friends easily, so Shiro likes poking fun at me when I do, and I don’t like getting made fun of, so I default to insults. I’m sorry.”

Lance bit back a smile and walked over to Keith. “Ah, no worries. I get it. Getting made fun of isn’t fun. I default to making jokes.”

Keith frowned and looked at him, one dark eyebrow arched. “You always make jokes, Lance.”

Lance wasn’t really sure what to respond to that.

When classes started, Keith and Lance spent a lot of time together in study rooms or at the library or at the café doing homework and listening to music and sending each other funny posts. Somewhere among caffeine-filled nights and sleep-deprived studying, they’d gotten comfortable enough to where Lance would throw his legs over Keith’s lap and would simply place his textbook or journal over his legs and continue his work. Eventually, Keith began to do the same and it was more of a competition to see who managed to get a footrest first.

Of course it was a matter of time before Lance did something to ruin it. Or rather his brain. He had been able to hide his bad days over the summer because it was easy to just text and seem okay. And he’d been so excited about being free and spending time with Keith that he hadn’t had a bad day in a while.

So when those bad days caught back up to him, he stayed away from Keith afraid of letting him see this side of him. Who wanted to deal with someone who felt like shit for no reason and couldn’t let logic calm him down? No one. And Lance didn’t want to lose Keith. Except Keith hadn’t stopped messaging him funny posts and question marks at his lacking responses.

Then there was a knock at his door and Lance had felt so guilty about ignoring him, he couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be asleep.

Keith looked frustrated when Lance opened the door. “Did I make you mad or something? Why are you ignoring me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you. It’s just… I don’t feel well.”

“You’re sick?” Keith asked suspiciously. Lance hesitated and Keith knew him well enough to catch it. “What’s going on? You’ve been like this since Thursday. Did I do something?” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, but he looked more distressed than angry. “You can tell me…. If I crossed a boundary or something.”

“What? No, that’s not…. Keith, it’s nothing you did, okay? I just… feel shitty and I don’t really know why. I didn’t want to bother you with it, so I just sleep it off or wait for it to pass.” Keith frowned and uncrossed his arms. “I’m okay. I’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

Keith sighed and shook his head. “This… happens often?” Lance shrugged and nodded. “Lance, that’s not… normal.” Lance flinched and Keith shook his head, hands trying to wave away his words. “Shit. That’s not what I meant. Fuck. I just meant…. You shouldn’t brush it off. Have you ever talked to someone about it?”

Lance sighed again and turned away, waving Keith into the room before plopping on his bed. “Nah. Don’t really have the money to talk to someone and besides, it’s not like it’s actual depression or something. I don’t have any right or reason to be depressed.”

Keith frowned and kicked at the ground. “What does that even mean?”

“I mean I have a good family. We struggle a bit with money, but we’re not starving or anything. My parents are together and love each other. I was never hit or anything. I’m perfectly fine, I have no reason to feel like this. But….” He groaned and sat up, putting his head in his hands. “I can’t help it. I just keep thinking about everything and it freaks me out and I don’t want to do anything because I feel like I’m suffocating if I try, but not doing anything stresses me out more because I know I’ll fall behind, so the only way I get to feel a little okay is if I’m asleep!”

There was a slight dip in the bed and Lance felt a hand on his arm. “You know, depression isn’t the same for everyone,” Keith said softly. “It doesn’t care whether you have a ‘normal’ life or a fucked up one. It’s hormone imbalance, and that’s that. Don’t say you don’t have the right to feel the things you feel. It’s not going to stop you from feeling it.” Lance looked at him and tried to smile. “Talking to someone could help. I got put on Zoloft. But not everyone needs meds.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “You…?” Keith nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “I would’ve never even guessed….”

“I guess I was hiding it from you too,” Keith whispered.

Lance hummed and swung his legs, letting them bounce off the bedframe. “You know, I could use a hug right now….”

Beside him, Keith laughed and wrapped his arms around him. Lance still felt a little shitty, but now he had giddy butterflies to balance out the feeling.

After that, Keith accompanied Lance to the student counseling services and they got even closer as friends. Lance didn’t know if he could handle this crush much longer, especially since it seemed to get stronger each time Keith laughed or sent him something about Ninja Turtles because Lance loved that show as a kid or anytime Keith automatically offered his chips or fries, knowing that Lance had a bottomless stomach when it came to those.

After Lance had gone to his first official therapy session outside of school aided by school insurance, Keith insisted they had to celebrate his milestone and bravery and something about the road to feeling better. Keith seemed so genuinely happy, Lance indulged him.

They went to a nearby burger joint and Lance couldn’t help but notice the things that could easily make it a cliché date straight out of the 50s. Right down to the milkshakes.

He supposed that to everyone else they were just two friends getting a burger. But Lance was fully aware of the way his cheeks burned when he blushed, the way they ached from smiling so much. He was struggling to hold back from taking Keith’s hands in his own where they rested in the middle of the table. The best part was not having to talk about the reason behind the outing. Keith didn’t ask him about his therapist, or what he talked about, or how he felt about therapy. And Lance was grateful for that, because it proved to him that Keith didn’t see him differently for it.

By the time they got back to their dorms, Lance was hoping Keith would stay with him, but it was a school night and Keith had a morning class the next day. Keith walked with him to his dorm and lingered at the door.

“I really am glad you talked to me. And that you wanted to talk to someone. It took me a long time to realize I needed outside help.” He smiled and shrugged. “It might not be a big deal to you, but it is for a lot of people.”

“I believe you,” Lance answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Uh, can I ask something without making everything weird?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows and shifted on his feet. Lance looked away and gulped, his cheeks burning. “Was that… um… like… a date?” he managed.

It was quiet for a moment. When Lance lifted his gaze, he found Keith staring at him, biting on his lip anxiously. “Um… a date?”

Lance felt the embarrassment hit him like a wave and he tried to figure out how to backtrack. He began shaking his head and stammering, trying for a joke, but unable to make one. “Um, yeah, that was really stupid. I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, no it’s not stupid!” Keith blurted. “I just… I mean…. Did you want it to be… a date?”

Lance stared at him, slightly afraid and very uncertain. “Did you?”

Keith took a deep breath and looked around nervously. “I think… I would rather you know if we go on a date before we go….”

“If?”

Keith looked at him, all wide dark indigo eyes and red cheeks, expression so open it was hard to believe this was the same stoic kid he used to sit next to in math class. “If you want,” he said.

Lance couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d… love to go on a date… with you.”

“Yeah, the with me part is kind of implied….” Lance cleared his throat and Keith laughed nervously. “Uh, you’re serious, right?” he asked.

Lance nodded quickly and floundered for words. “Yes! Yes, I…. I really would like to go on a date. Or more. You know.”

Keith smiled and nodded, stepping back. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after classes….”

“What, no goodnight kiss?”

Keith turned red, but his cocky smirk remained. “That’s not until a first date.”

Lance felt himself blush and he reached behind him, grabbing the door handle for something to tether him to reality. He watched Keith walk away until he got to the elevator and finally got into his dorm. He plopped onto his bed and smiled at the ceiling for a long time before falling asleep.

Their first date had been an excursion to paintballing. Instead of cutesy hand holding and shared fries and snuggling during a movie, the two were pitted against each other, doing their best to take down the other and cover them in paint. Lance figured it was better than a movie.

After paintball, they went to a Riverwalk and spent their time watching ducks splash around and watching the sun set lower as they walked along the riverside until pretty lights decorated the bridges that crossed it and music from expensive restaurants came and went.

At some point under a bridge, Lance gathered the courage to brush his fingers against Keith’s and let them linger until Keith finally got the hint and held his hand. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand despite being so used to each other, Lance still found himself blushing and trying to stop smiling because his cheeks hurt so much.

They got garlic knots from a local pizzeria on the way back, which Lance devoured happily. They were nothing like the ones his abuela made, but they were good enough.

They got back to the dorms and Lance felt his stomach twist into knots. The end of their date marked their first kiss. It was going to happen. And Lance had no idea if he was a good kisser or not, and it had been a long time since he’d kissed someone. And what type of kisser was Keith? Would he go for chaste and sweet? Or long and fiery? Would it be a simple press of their lips or a heated clash of tongue and teeth?

They walked into the dorm building and Keith walked Lance to his door since his was a floor below, and again, they lingered at the door.

“That was a fun first date,” Lance said, playing with Keith’s fingers.

“Yeah? I’m glad you had fun,” Keith said. “Does this mean more dates?”

“You might as well ask me out now, honestly,” he muttered. Keith laughed and Lance raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to do it myself?”

Keith shrugged and tilted his head. “Well, I asked you on a date. I think it’s only fair you pull your weight.”

Lance snorted at that and squeezed his hand. “Well then, I guess that would be fair. Keith?” He hummed, giving Lance a knowing smile. “D’you wanna be my boyfriend?”

His smile faded a bit and he took Lance’s other hand. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

Lance smiled and raised an eyebrow. “So about that first date kiss?”

Keith scrunched his nose and backed away. “You were eating garlic knots,” he reminded him.

Affronted, Lance scoffed and let go of his hands. “Well fine, no kiss for you, Mr. Grouch.” Keith laughed as Lance opened his door. “You’re a jerk, just so you know.”

“Really?” he laughed, as Lance walked into his room.

“It’s not even that-”

Before Lance could step in further, he felt Keith’s hand around his wrist, pulling him back and his lips were against his own, making Lance weak in the knees. His hand was rough but gentle against his face and his lips were warm as they pressed harder against him, opening just enough to take Lance’s lower lip between his own.

Lance’s first kiss with Keith tasted like garlic and salt and sugary soda. And it was perfect.

They spent the rest of that semester acting relatively the same as before. With the exception of occasional kisses and handholding. They bickered over random things, they greeted each other and said goodbye with kisses and always had some sort of contact if they were in the same place. Whether they were sitting and pressed their knees together or standing close enough for their arms to brush or simply had their little fingers hooked together.

When Lance went home for Christmas, he figured he should sit his parents down to explain the therapy and then of course, Keith.

His parents had been quiet for a long time after Lance had his chance to speak. They remained adamant that Lance didn’t need therapy, and reminded him that if they offered him medication, to deny it. Lance tried not to let it bother him, tried to remember that they had been raised in very different circumstances, in different times, a different country, with different values. His mother agreed though, that if the therapy helped him stay focused and the school insurance was paying it, that there was no harm done.

When it came to Keith, his father remained silent, with a clenched fist on the table and an angry expression directed at the salt shaker. His mother had asked for pictures and though she also seemed a bit hesitant and wary, she had smiled and congratulated him on his relationship. Something about the way she said it made Lance feel like she still believed it was just a phase, but he wasn’t getting thrown out of his home, so he figured it wasn’t the worst direction the conversation took.

Once he’d returned to school, he told Keith about his conversation with his parents during one of their Netflix binging nights, arms wrapped around Keith’s torso and his face hidden in his neck. He knew Keith didn’t have parents to tell, but he had told Shiro who had simply laughed, said “I told you so,” and congratulated him on making a move.

“Technically, I’m the one who made a move,” Lance muttered. Keith laughed and he relished the sound.

Somewhere into the fifth month of their relationship, their relationship evolved further. One late afternoon was filled with limbs tangled between bedsheets, their bodies pressed so close together there was no sense of where one body ended and the other began, their clothes in haphazard piles on the floor. The room was filled with soft, muffled sounds and Lance felt overwhelmed with the emotions flowing through him as their lips came together sloppily and passionately.

Keith had laid himself in the crook of his arm, and while Lance had been quick to start drifting to sleep, Keith stayed awake, soaking in every aspect of Lance. At some point when his brain tried to wake him up, he felt Keith’s hand at his cheek and heard him murmur, “God, please don’t let me fuck this up.”

He wanted to respond, but before his brain could tell his mouth to open, he succumbed to sleep again.

#klance #one shot