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deathishauntedbyhumans · 7 years

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Torrential Downpour

HHHHHHHHHhhhhhh this is such a fucking ride I just reread it because it’s been sitting saved in my drafts and I think I’m gonna cry holy FUCK.

Keith has an emotional breakdown in the rain and Lance has to keep him from running away from... everything. (There’s a lot of angry-lashing-out-violence in this, so please don’t click the read more if that ain’t your cuppa tea! Stay safe my lovelies; be kind to yourselves!)

Stranger: [Modern Day College Roommates AU] Dude, why the fuck am I locked out? K

You: I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's because you forgot your key. L

Stranger: But why are you not here to let me in like always? I depend on you for this man! K

You: Look, I have better things to do than wait around whenever you leave your key in your sock drawer. I have a life, bro. L I'm busy. Studying. You know, that thing that normal people that aren't you have to do in order to actually pass their classes? L

Stranger: ...Forget it. I'll come back later around lunch. Just. Give my key to Pidge or something because I'm sure you'll be with them. Or Allura. K

You: I don't know what time I'll be back. Maybe next time you won't forget your stupid key. L

Stranger: Maybe you don't have to fucking worry about it anymore then! Sorry to be such a burden. K

You: Oh, no. You don't get to play the victim here, buddy. You do this all the time, and then you act like it's MY FAULT for actually trying to give a shit about myself for once in my damn life. We can't all be """star students""" like you, man. Some of us actually have to TRY so that we don't get kicked out of here. And it doesn't help that my schedule has to revolve around someone that can barely even give me the time of day whenever we're in the same room. L

Stranger: [Delayed] I broke into the room. Paying to get the door fixed. Got what I needed and left, that's all you need to know. I'm not playing this game anymore, Lance. And if you have to know, I thought I found my mom last night. I was wrong. Again. Guess I'm not a star at everything. So I'm not playing some fucking victim card, don't worry. I'm moving the fuck out and dropping out. K

You: [delayed] Fuck, Keith. I didn't know. L What happened, man? L Don't ignore me. I know you're reading this. L Keith, you can't just run away. What the fuck happened? L

Stranger: It's not running. It's.. briskly moving away from problems. K God do you always have to spam text me whenever you get worried? K You don't actually care what happened. You just feel like shit now. Don't worry, no hard feelings. So don't fucking bother. K

You: Who says I don't care? I do care, man. You're my roommate. Hell, you're one of my best friends. Just because we're dicks to each other doesn't mean I don't care. L Talk to me, man. Because I know you're not going to talk to anyone else. If you have it your way, you're probably just planning on disappearing. At least unload before you do, dude. L

Stranger: I don't have anything to say anymore, McClain. I've said it all over and over. And I just keep running into fucking brick wall after brick wall. K I'm only human. I can only go like this for so long. And best friends? Good one, Lance. Really. I'm only kept around the group out of pity and we both know it. Who cares if I disappear? I'll just keep following leads. K

You: And you'll end up killing yourself in the process. I know you're pissed off and frustrated and god, you have every right to be, but you can't just run off. We care about you, man. All of us. I don't know where you got the idea that we keep you around because we pity you, because that's bullshit. Plain and simple. You're a good guy, Keith. So you've got baggage. We've all got baggage. L Where are you right now? L And before you brush that off, I'm going to come and find you, and you're going to punch me a couple of times, and yell at me, and you'll feel better, and you might be able to think about this without wanting to run away. L

Stranger: I always want to run, Lance! I want this to all fucking stop for once in my goddamn life! Nothing ever stays! No one ever stays because no matter what you say I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH! K [Delayed] If I leave first, you can't. K

You: One of us will find you. I'll get all of them looking. Pidge will drop what they're doing in a heartbeat. So will Hunk. So will Allura. There's no way you can just disappear from our lives, Keith. L I won't let you. Because no matter what YOU think, you ARE good enough. But we can't stay if you don't give us a chance. L

Stranger: Why do you care so much? K The rest of them, they're good people. Not that you aren't, but- K If anyone would understand the need to run, I thought it would be you. K

You: I do understand it. And that's why I'm so against it. L Do you remember the first time you walked in on me getting high? I thought you were going to be pissed, but you just stayed in the room all night even though I KNEW you had plans with Pidge, and you talked to me and you made sure that I didn't do anything stupid? L Because you understood it. This is like that. Even if you yell at me to just leave you alone, because I know I wasn't quiet about it... We don't always get along, but we've both got a lot of shit that no one else seems to get. Except US, man. L

Stranger: I wouldn't ever leave you alone through that shit, Lance. God damn, I don't even know what you remember from that night. K You cried. I fucking let you cuddle into my lap. You're /taller/ than me, you asshole. K I.. I can't, I can't do any of this anymore man. I fucking can't. It HURTS like hell. Worse than Hell. K

You: I know, dude. I know. Believe me when I say I get it. L Tell me where you are. Please? L

Stranger: The bridge, where you found me that one time when we found out some more about my dad. K It's raining, make sure you wear my jacket over your pathetic one, and grab an umbrella. I don't need you getting sick. K

You: Dude, you're in the middle of a crisis. You don't have to mother me. L I'll be there in a few. L

Stranger: Of course I have to mother you. You were about to fucking leave without either of them, weren't you? K I care about you, even if I punch you sometimes. K

You: You don't know what I was going to leave with. L I care about you too, even when you punch me. L So take some deep breaths and try not to suck up too much rain. L

Stranger: Hey, at least I can still look badass in the rain and not like a drowned rat, which you would. K And you were going to leave with my key, forget yours, and fucking RUN down here in that thin piece of shit you call a hoodie. K

You: My hoodie is a gift to mankind, thank you very much. And I have both sets of keys, so who's laughing now? L [delay] Okay, are you like, under the bridge? Or is it just raining too much for me to see you? L

Stranger: "Boo." Keith grinned, gunmetal eyes glinting in the moonlight, almost seeming to shimmer with a bit of gold to them. "But hey, at least you listened to me, McClain. I see my jacket and the umbrella. Though, I do fill it out better than you." Keith tried to stay light hearted, the smile on his face as fake as the ones he gave to everyone in their group each day. He was thankful for the rain however; hiding tears that managed to slip through even as he stared at his best friend. Oh who was he kidding? His best friend? More like the only person he ever let himself get close enough to that he ended up falling in love with Lance.

You: Lance jumped at the sound of a voice from behind him, and he spun rapidly to come face to face with Keith. He knew him well enough to spot that fake smile a mile away, and he wasn't fooled by that or the faux-light tone of his voice for a second. "Dude, it's raining, and you didn't even bother to bring your jacket to run away with," he stated, sounding unimpressed. "An umbrella and a leather jacket? Really, Kogane?" He arched his eyebrows, but the expression fell away seconds later to reveal one heavy with concern, and he reached out to rest a hand lightly on his shoulder. "But seriously, Keith... You can't just run away. Feel free to punch me if you want to, but I'm not going to just stand aside on this one."

Stranger: Keith let out a deep breath, his smile slipping slowly from his face as he met stormy blue eyes, knowing that Lance could no doubt tell the difference between each tear and each raindrop as they rolled down his cheeks. "I'm tired, Lance." Keith admitted, voice dropping an octave as he said it, betraying his exhaustion, looking much older than his nineteen years. "If I run away, I can just start over. Again. Maybe I could finally convince myself to stop looking for them." Keith whispered this last part, a thought he'd been having for a while now, even though he knew they were out there. "They don't want me. No one ever has."

You: Before Lance could consider the consequences of his actions, before his brain could catch up with what he was doing --which happened too fucking often for him to even attempt to be surprised anymore-- he had tugged Keith forward and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. He knew better than anyone that sometimes, sometimes you just needed to be held for a while. If Keith pushed him away, punched him... that was fine, too. One way or another, he'd get it out of his system, Lance figured to himself. "That's not true," he said quietly, vehemently, putting meaning behind every word. "I can't speak for them, but I can speak for me, and our friends, and man... You're /loved/, here." He swallowed hard, but continued speaking. Keith /needed/ to hear this, needed to at least have the words out in the open so he could try and comprehend them. "Pidge, and Hunk, and /everyone/, and-- and me, man. We want you here. Running away is one thing, but thinking that no one wants you is a whole 'nother can of worms." There was nothing he could say that would fix what had been broken. Lance knew that. But he also needed to say what he had to say, needed Keith to hear it. He could only hope that his words would get through.

Stranger: "You always try to have the last goddamn word, don't you?" Keith asked with a broken laugh as he hid his face against Lance's warm neck, the skin slick from the rain around them, silently cursing the other man for dropping the umbrella just to hug him. "I just break everything and fuck it all up. It's like, like I'm a ticking time bomb and I don't know what's gonna happen in the end." Keith sighed heavily, his fingers curling into the leather of his own jacket as he clung to Lance like a lifeline, like a man in love. "And I'm scared, Lance. I'm scared as hell of all of this. Staying somewhere? Staying /here/? With people who think they know me? I'm some hot headed pretty boy, who doesn't have to try for anything. They've all said their own nasty thoughts before."

You: A shiver went through him, then, both at the cold rain suddenly slicing its way against any exposed skin, and at the contrast of Keith's warm breath against his neck. He tightened his arms around the other man, though, as soon as he was sure that Keith wasn't going to try and push him away. "We all say nasty things about each other. It's how we show our affection. Like when I tell Hunk he smells, or when Allura tells me that I'll 'never get a date with any sentient being'." He pitched his voice higher and added a terrible accent, to mimic Allura's lilting tone, and dropped it again as he let his chin rest against Keith's wet hair. "We're all terrible to each other because we love each other. And yeah, Hunk does stink sometimes, and yeah, I'll probably never get a date the way I flirt with Allura--" Because he wasn't being /serious/ when he flirted with Allura, obviously. He could get a date if he wanted to. Any date. Right. Anyways. "And yeah, you somehow manage to ace your tests without doing all the studying we have to. But it doesn't mean we don't want you around. It just means... that we love you. And that we're all terrible people," he added, huffing out a breath. "You're not a time bomb, dude. You're just a person who's got some fucked up shit going on. Same as any of us, really."

Stranger: "Allura can go to hell." Keith honest to god snarled, yanking himself out of Lance's tightened grip, his chest aching in the most familiar way. "Forget it. You know what, you shouldn't have come here, McClain." Keith snapped at the brunet, knowing his complete change in attitude was normal, but that this time, it would utterly confuse Lance. And he had no idea what reaction he would get this time. He couldn't help the comment about Allura, hating the teasing honestly. He would /kill/ for a chance with Lance. The ridiculous, clumsy, incredibly gorgeous, smart, asshole in front of him. He moved to grab a black duffel bag he'd left by the railing, slinging it over his shoulder. "Keep the jacket. Be smart and wear it. I'm not staying, Lance. I'm a person with fucked up shit going on who is gonna run away from it all again. I'm a coward. Let's keep it that way."

You: He should have been expecting it. In fact, Lance wasn't sure why he'd /stopped/ expecting it, or why he felt so fucking /hurt/ when Keith stumbled out of his embrace and away from him entirely. He supposed he'd thought that he was making some sort of progress or something. /Idiot./ "Then I'm going with you," he said, seriously, more seriously than he'd ever felt in his fucking life. If Keith was going to do this, he wasn't going to get away so easily. Lance would --and he was realising it now, the severity of how much he /cared/ about Keith-- go the the ends of the Earth for him, quite literally. If Keith was running, Lance was going to follow him. He followed Keith towards the railing, stood beside him as he shouldered his bag. "I'm serious, Keith. I'm not going back if you're not." He crossed his arms over his chest, his voice low, though he was afraid the effect was going to be ruined by the rivulets of rain dripping off of his nose and chin.

Stranger: Keith scoffed, smile looking feral in the flashes of lightning that started to light up the sky, the storm seeming to get almost as angry as the desperate look in Lance's matching eyes. "You really think I'll let you go anywhere with me? I don't /need/ you. Why would I let some asshole tag along with me, huh? Some guy who doesn't even have the time to let me into the fucking apartment because I forgot my house key." Keith knew he was being unfair, he was being angry, thunder rumbling behind his words like a lion's violent roar. "I don't need you, Lance." Keith hissed again, hoping to a God he couldn't believe in that Lance couldn't see Keith's heart breaking as each word left his lips.

You: Lance tried to breathe deeply, to go to the place in his head that he went to whenever anyone got like this. Because this... this was what he was good at. When someone was angry, they spewed some vitriol at him and he let them and then they went back to normal after it. Lance knew what it was like to let the anger talk, and at the time it happened, he knew how good it felt. So he let it happen, and his response was measured, mild, especially in comparison to the storm picking up around them, the wind whipping the rain into both of their faces. "Maybe you don't. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to follow you," he stated, gaze locked on Keith's, challenging him to match his words with blows, to keep going, to let the worst of it out. "You might not need some asshole tagging along, Kogane, but I don't need your /permission/, to be an asshole or otherwise."

Stranger: The sound of the thunder covered both Keith's bag hitting the ground and his fist connecting with Lance's face, the tears coming faster now, hot on his pale- much too pale, these days- skin. It felt so good to feel something for the first time in weeks, when he'd really started to go downhill without letting Lance know. He'd been so fucking /numb/, and the anger felt right, even though the actions weren't. "Get the fuck away from me, you fucking prick! Why won't you leave?!" He screamed over the storm, punctuating the end of his question with another strike to Lance's stomach, wanting to someone to hurt like he did.

You: Keith's fist connected with his face before Lance had time to even try to defend himself, even though he probably wouldn't have if he'd been given the chance. This wasn't the first time they'd come to blows. It was the first time in a while, but it wasn't the first time. He reeled back from the hit, stumbling but not falling, his arms windmilling for a second as he tried to keep his balance. He hardly had time to look up before the second hit landed, and he doubled over, coughing as the wind was knocked out of him. He knew if he lifted his hands, they'd be shaking, but he also knew he wasn't about to fight back, so it was a moot point. "Because I /don't want to/," he ground out amidst gasps of air as he attempted to regain some form of composure. "And I'm /not going to/, so you might as well keep hitting me!" He tried to straighten up and winced, doubling back over and coughing again. He doubted anything was broken, but Keith had... definitely not held back.

Stranger: "Hit. Me. Back!" Keith bit back, the world almost seeming to shake as he looked at Lance in the flashes of lightning, the young man's oceanic eyes filled with determination even as his supposed best friend pushed him hard enough to knock him down. "Why won't you fucking fight me?!" Keith was raging, something he hadn't done in a long time, but it was almost a mockery of that exact time, that exact fight; him moving to straddle Lance and pull his fist back, shaking violently as he cried, not letting himself make contact. Not this time. "Just leave. /Please/, Lance." He begged quietly, letting his hand fall to the other man's chest, grabbing the jacket tightly as his eyes closed.

You: This time, Lance stumbled and fell backwards, going down hard and making a sound of pain that was swallowed by the thunder. The storm was right on top of them, now, he noted absently as he blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what was going on, where Keith was, and-- Oh, Keith was right on top of him, too. He flinched despite himself as Keith pulled his fist back, but when the hit never came, he looked up, up into Keith's face, into his eyes. Not even the torrential downpour could hide the fact that he was crying; his eyes were red-rimmed, as was his nose. Even slightly dazed as he was from the fall, Lance could see as much, and he brought a hand up slowly to cup Keith's cheek as his eyes closed and his hand fell down to his chest. "I'm not leaving," he said firmly, reiterating what he'd said after the first and second hits had connected. He blinked again, pushing rainwater out of his eyes, pushing... pushing tears out of his eyes, because apparently, he was crying as well. He hadn't even realised. "I'm not going to leave you."

Stranger: Keith couldn't help but push his face into Lance's hot touch, almost too hot under the torrential downpour of rain, feeling like pinpricks of ice against his skin. They'd both be miserably sick at this rate, out in the autumn rain like this; though he'd still be up and taking care of Lance until he got the guy back on his feet. Keith was nothing when Lance was down. Whether with a cold, a stupid broken arm, anything. It was almost like having a soulmate. One who was utterly clueless about everything. "You should. I'm like- I'm like fire. I'm just an explosion of anger and frustration. I burn down everything in my path and nothing puts me out." Keith let slip from his chapped lips, finally blinking open his eyes, the rain stinging them before he moved over Lance a bit more to shield the taller of the two from the rain as best as he could.

You: Lance's head still felt a little fuzzy from the fall, but he was positive that he wasn't imagining it as Keith shifted above him, as he put his head in the way of the rain pouring down onto his face. He blinked a couple more times, took a shuddering breath, but didn't drop his hand from Keith's cheek. He hadn't missed the way that he'd damn near nuzzled into the contact, and despite the earlier reaction to Lance hugging him, it was his first instinct to do so again. So he did, because he rarely had any self control when he wasn't feeling out of it, and at the moment, any and all control was more than a little shot. Worst came to worst, he would get hit again. Big deal. He reached up with his other hand and wrapped his arm around Keith's back, tugging him down with more force than he'd originally intended until he'd fallen down against his chest. He made a little "oomph" sound, but it didn't stop him from wrapping both arms around Keith again tightly. "You haven't burned everything in your path, and you're not going to. I'm still here, aren't I?" he pointed out, speaking quietly, almost directly into Keith's ear to be heard over the near-constant rumbling of the thunder above them.

Stranger: "I'm just going to hurt you. Some best friend I am." Keith replied just as quietly as Lance did, a small grunt having left him when he'd been tugged down, but letting it happen easily. The fight had drained out of him, like Lance was the ocean he saw in the taller boy's eyes, and he'd washed over Keith enough to put the fire out. For now. "You remind me of the ocean. Of the storm." Keith mumbled to himself mostly, knowing that Lance could hear him, understood more than Keith really thought he did. "You just wash over me, drag me under, keep putting out the flames and pulling me back to you. I could be gone right now." Keith sighed, letting his eyes close and his weight settle more evenly on top of Lance, moving a hand under Lance's head to keep it off the concrete.

You: A soft, appreciative sound hummed its way from somewhere in the back of Lance's throat as Keith lifted his head and placed a hand under it. His own eyes had fallen shut mere moments after the weight of the other man had settled comfortably on top of him, and he let the words wash over him, felt them cleansing him far better than the rain could ever even dream of doing. Because hearing that, hearing the words from Keith's mouth that he helped, that he was the thing keeping him there, that wanting him was /working/... It was so much more than he'd expected Keith to say. "It might be easier if you let me, you know," he said softly. "If you let me be the ocean, instead of fighting it. I want... I want to be the ocean for you. I want you to stay. Because I'm here, and... man, I know how it is to be overwhelmed, and I want to help, and it would be easier for both of us if you'd /let me/." Fighting the current only hurt both of them, in the end. Because Lance knew that Keith would beat himself up for this later, for being angry, for the punches he'd landed that would leave dark bruises against Lance's skin. He wished that he wouldn't. Lance knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing every time he goaded Keith into fighting with him, physically or verbally. And he didn't mind, didn't care. The marks on his skin were nothing compared to the hurt Keith felt. He /knew/ that. He just wished Keith would see it his way, too.

Stranger: "If you're the ocean, I'm an underwater volcano." Keith decided, fingers curling gently into damp brown hair, almost a soft mahogany when the sunlight hit it just right. "Erupting at the most inconvenient times for the ocean, disrupting the currents, tearing apart everything in my path." Keith continued with his thought, knowing his next action would surprise Lance the most, so he was desperate to keep the blue eyed boy distracted. His free hand moved as he talked, reaching for Lance's arm to move it into a better position, lacing their fingers together. An action he'd never done before. "You're going to bruise. You're going to bruise and you're going to get sick and it's my fault because I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore." Keith revealed to Lance, knowing he was letting out more than he ever had before. "I don't know how to let someone help, Lance." The way his lips moved and his tongue curled around that name, as precious as the person it belonged to. "I want to let you in, god. I want so many things. Things I can't have. I don't deserve any of it."

You: Lance felt his breath catch as Keith's fingers brushed his own and then slowly --as if he were testing the waters-- carefully curled around and through his own. Oh. /Oh./ Keith was holding his hand. Keith was /holding his hand/ holy shit and oh he was still talking and Lance really needed to pay attention to what he was saying and not to the sudden clicking of /several/ things in his head and-- Listening. He was listening. He was listening to what Keith was saying. But... what Keith was saying was sad and painful to hear and Lance couldn't even tell if it was safer in his own head or in the real world, so he opened his mouth and let himself talk because that was what he /did/. He /talked/ and rambled and when things happened he never held anything in and it was terrible and ridiculous and the exact opposite of Keith's entire being but he did it anyways because he'd always done it. "You deserve the world, Keith. If I could give it to you, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat, man. I would do it so fast... I don't /care/ if I bruise. The bruises are just... blood. They're just my skin bitching about how it doesn't like the blood inside of it. Bruises are just bruises. And if I get sick, it just means I get to sleep more. Which is fine. I like sleeping. Sleeping is good. I don't ever get enough sleep. And I know you don't either. I wish you would sleep, though. You spend too much time worrying. I know you're up all night, even when I do manage to sleep. I always see the light on and a part of me just wants to go and turn it off and tell you to go to sleep because you need it and I worry because you don't get enough." He stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath, to tighten his fingers around Keith's, because /Jesus/ he was doing a lot of talking and Keith's hand felt /good/ in his own and he couldn't seem to make himself shut up. "I want you to be okay, Keith, and I know that it's not going to just happen, and that you have so many things to heal from and so much to think about and I /get/ it but I want you to be okay because I /care/ about you and maybe it's a dumb, selfish reason to want someone to be okay, but... I also want you to be okay because you're /you/ and you /deserve/ it and I know you don't believe me but you /do/, and-- and--" And he couldn't even ramble anymore, because there was so /much/ he wanted to say and not enough words in his vocabulary to shove everything out into the stormy air between them.

Stranger: Maybe the kiss should have been expected, but damn, Keith had finally found the perfect way to finally shut up that gorgeous mouth that just couldn't stop some days. As far as first kisses went, it definitely wasn't the best, but it was perfect for him. It was cold, lips chapped from the biting wind, slick from the icy rain. But it was /Lance/. "You always forget to breathe, ya know." Keith replied tentatively, keeping his eyes shut, because if there was rejection in those stormy blue eyes, well, Keith wouldn't be skipping out on the town, he'd be skipping out on the god damn country. And wasn't that a shame? Here he was, still planning to leave even when he was about to promise Lance that he wouldn't. One of those nights, soon, when Lance was too tired to keep up with him. He'd be a goner, and maybe he'd finally catch his breath. "You need to stop worrying about me so much, McClain. Start worrying about yourself. Stop getting me to hit you just because you know it makes me feel better, because it makes me feel worse in the long run. No one should have to deal with that, least of all you." His breath hitched as he felt Lance tighten his hand around Keith's, causing him to let out a slightly strangled laugh. "I'm not going to be okay, Lance. Not for a while, if ever, and you don't deserve that. You don't deserve /me/ hurting you. You don't /deserve/ to worry over me when I can't sleep because I'm having fucking pathetic nightmares and all I can do is stare at you, because you're so goddamn /beautiful/. I don't /deserve/ to want you." He held the tears back this time, his stoic shell slowly coming back, knowing he should get off the ground, get off of Lance and let go of his hand. Hide all of this behind them like they had with other things in the past, but damn it, for once he was the one who wouldn't stop talking. And he just didn't want to let go of that hand in his, so /warm/, like a fucking beacon of light in the sheets of rain. "We should.. we should go back."

You: Forget to breathe? Lance was pretty sure he'd forgotten what breathing /was/, as he stared up at Keith with a mixture of shock and joy and wonderment warring with each other on his face and in his eyes. Keith had just... Keith had just kissed him, Keith had /kissed him/ and Lance couldn't think couldn't breathe couldn't /move/ because Keith wasn't looking at him, was acting like he couldn't bear to look at him. And then he was talking, and Lance couldn't stop staring at his lips as he spoke, those lips that had been covering his own only moments before, and he heard the words in a part of his head that felt disconnected from the rest of him, because most of him was still in shock, because /oh/ Keith had /kissed/ him and /oh/ maybe there were a lot of things that should have made it obvious that this was where they were heading and /oh/ everything was rushing into his head at the same time and he /understood/ so many things and he mostly just wanted to kiss Keith again because holy /shit/ that had been so unexpected and nice and-- Listening. There was a part of his brain still listening. "In a minute," he said, and his voice sounded strange to his own ears, and he wondered if it sounded strange to Keith, too, or if the fall had messed with him more than he'd thought. But he continued anyways, ignoring the note of awe that he hadn't been able to stifle from his tone. He slid the hand that had been curled lightly against the small of Keith's back up to the back of his neck, keeping him there, keeping him from pulling away too soon. He /couldn't let him go/, not without at least trying to respond to him. "You deserve the /world/. I wasn't kidding when I said that. I mean it. You deserve the goddamn world, Keith." He stared up at him, hoping that Keith would /look at him/, because he /hadn't/ yet. "You deserve the world. You deserve to be okay. And--" Keep it together, Lance, keep it together. "And if you want me, then you /deserve to want me/, because damn it, if I can do anything to make you anything close to happy, then I've done something right in my fucking life." He swallowed hard. His throat hurt, either from the crying or the cold. He couldn't tell; he didn't really care. "I want you to be happy, because I /care/ about you. Look at me, damn it!" A deep, shuddering breath blew through his lips, and then he was tugging Keith down with the hand on the back of his neck and Keith's lips were on his again and he didn't /care/ that the sweatshirt he was wearing underneath Keith's jacket was soaked, didn't /care/ that he was lying on the cold ground in the middle of a storm. Because holyshitholyshit he was kissing Keith and doing it properly this time and all he could think was /Yes/.

Stranger: There were lips on his, lips that belonged to one Lance McClain, lips that he didn't think he would ever feel. They were kissing properly this time, still a little slick, but hot from their breath, and a little less chaste with Keith's teeth sinking into Lance's bottom lip to tease him, but /no/. Now wasn't the time for that, to even /think/ that. They were laying on the wet concrete in a fucking /storm/ for God's sake. He had to get Lance to let go, to let him up, no matter that every part of him screamed /NO/ as he slowly pulled away. He let grey blue eyes slide open and finally looked at Lance, breath hitching harshly and making him want to start sobbing as he looked at the awe on that beautiful face. High cheekbones flushed with cold and with the kiss, their fingers still laced together, and dark blue eyes practically shining. /No/ Keith. You'll be leaving him, so you can't keep falling in love. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking /sorry/." Keith managed to force past his constricted throat, apologizing for more than just the bruises, the storm, the concrete. Apologizing for the duffel bag that was going to stay packed without Lance's knowledge. Apologizing for the bus ticket he was going to buy for a week from then. Apologizing for letting someone in /finally/ only to abandon them. Just like his own goddamn parents did to /him/. And he knew so much could be read on his face, in his eyes. It's why he always looked away when fighting with Lance. The guy read him like a goddamn /book/ when they fought if Keith so much as glanced at him. "We need to go, Lance. I don't want you to get seriously sick." Keith said firmly, letting his shields come down completely as he pulled his fingers from Lance's, his world turning grey and bleak the moment he lost that one spot of perfection, of warmth, and finally stood. "We can talk more when we're- when we're feeling better." Keith lied through his teeth as he glanced away, never having been so thankful for how easily he could lie before.

You: A whine sounded in Lance's throat as Keith pulled away just after nipping at his lower lip, and he found himself panting, staring up at Keith because how /could/ he possibly want to pull away? But his features were shut off, were closed off from him, and Lance could feel himself responding despite himself, could feel tears forming in his eyes because oh /god/ he'd probably fucked up and it wouldn't have been the first time and-- He concentrated on trying to force himself not to cry, not to let the tears fall, and failed miserably even with his best efforts. /Fuck/. At least Keith had stood up, had looked away from him, and the rain had taken to falling on his face again. If Keith couldn't see him crying, he couldn't prove anything, and Lance could... Lance could just. Apologise for being an idiot and hide and tell himself that everything was alright when in reality, everything had just put itself together and then shattered apart, into a million tiny pieces. And Lance /hated/ himself for even going down that train of thought, because this was /Keith's/ moment and he was getting emotional, was honing in on everything and making it about himself, and he /knew/ it was fucked up in a hundred different ways but it didn't stop him from feeling too much regardless. He sat up slowly without responding verbally, to either the apology or the promise to talk about it, and didn't have any problem until he tried to stand. He swayed as soon as he was on his feet, and he shut his eyes tightly against the dull rush of pain in his head. Oh. That didn't feel very good. He could feel tears slipping through his closed eyes as he tried to keep his balance without opening them, and he hoped desperately that Keith wasn't looking at him, because he was certain that he looked fucking ridiculous, like some sort of drunk idiot. Just some asshole. He was trying to suck in air without sobbing, and probably failing, if the way his chest was aching was any indication. And he was pretty sure he'd never hated himself more than he did in that moment.

Stranger: "Lance. Lance /please/. Why are you crying?" Keith practically begged as he moved to support the slightly taller boy, using one arm to put it under Lance's shoulders and help him stand up straight without risk of falling, his other hand going to wipe away those way too /hot/ tears. /Hot/ like his anger every time. He'd fucked up /again/ in less than five minutes. "Lance, talk to me sweetheart. I know, I'm a fuck up, but don't cry." Keith forced out, the endearment slipping out without his knowledge or permission, /wanting/ so much, and /knowing/ he couldn't have it at all.

You: Now Lance was the one leaning into the hand on his face, letting Keith wipe at his face even though it was a futile effort in the rain. He was grateful for the arm around him, even as he hated himself for needing it. If he could stop feeling dizzy long enough to stand on his own two feet... And then Keith was talking to him, and his voice was desperate and he called him /sweetheart/ and he wasn't shouting anymore because the thunder wasn't a consistent rumble and the lightning was no longer cracking through the sky directly above them and he opened his eyes because he /had/ to see what Keith looked like and... "I'm an idiot and my head hurts and you still take care of me even when you're dying inside and /damn you/, that shouldn't be how it works and /fuck you/ I want to kiss you again you called me sweetheart oh my god I think I'm going to die and /fuck/ I'm still talking why the fuck am I still talking?" He bit down hard on his lower lip to stop himself, forcing himself to breathe through his nose, to focus on something other than the warmth of Keith supporting him at his side.

Stranger: "Don't you do that. Don't you fucking shut yourself up, Lance McClain. That's my job now." Keith growled, moving in front of Lance in a quick movement, hating himself almost violently for the bruises he could already see blooming on Lance's face, especially on his cheek. His stomach was no doubt even worse. "I'm always taking care of you, it's.. you're the one good thing I have, Lance. /Don't/ take that away from me. Let /me/ take care of /you/." Keith wanted to beg, but he was better than that, keeping his harsh exterior but still letting his love for Lance show through. He couldn't help himself, he was utterly in love with the mess in front of him, and he wanted to jump off this goddamn bridge for the fact that he planned to leave the one good thing he had. But it was necessary. Lance would understand, with time.

You: "You're taking it away from yourself!" Lance cried out, frustration and self-hatred and confusion boiling in him to the point where he shouted the words without even thinking about it. He wasn't thinking at all, or if he was, then every thought that went through his head was pouring out of his mouth. "You won't even let yourself /have/ me because you're so fucking scared that-- that-- that you're going to hurt me, or lose me, or whatever you think! It's so fucking /confusing/ because you're telling me that you want... that you want /me/ and you're acting like you want me but I can /see/ you, Keith, I /know/ you a whole lot better than you think I do, and I can /see/ that you're not happy with it, that you're just waiting for the moment I look away, and I don't /understand what I did wrong/!"

Stranger: "Lance, I--" He hadn't had a clue that Lance felt that way at all, that Lance could see the fact that Keith was planning to leave the moment Lance turned his back. And the young man blamed /himself/?! "What the fuck, McClain!? This isn't your fault. Not a god damn part of this is your fault. If anything, /you/ are the only reason I stayed around this long." Keith admitted, moving back just enough to be tempted to hit Lance again. Keith didn't want to leave without Lance, god he'd take Lance with him in a heartbeat, but Lance had a life here. Lance had /friends/, and a proper fucking /family/. Keith was some orphan that got fucking adopted by Lance's friend group. He didn't /belong/. But for once in his pathetic life, Keith /wanted/. "I'm fucking /in love with you/!"

You: The revelation shouldn't have taken Lance's breath away, shouldn't have unbalanced him as much as it did. He should have been at least /vaguely/ aware of Keith's feelings, given that he'd fucking /kissed/ him a few minutes before. But holy shit, between Lance's possible head injury and the vehemence of the confession, he was at a proper loss. He couldn't breathe all over again, could only stare at Keith with his mouth opening and closing like a fucking fish out of water. And then he found himself sinking to the ground again, not quite falling, but sitting fast enough to make him wonder how much control he'd actually had over the move. He dropped his face into his hands for a moment, just trying to... trying to regain enough of himself to /speak/ like a goddamn person. When he looked up again, there was a look of hopelessness on his face, because he certainly felt like he was going to get nowhere, regardless of whatever he tried to say. "Have you ever even considered the fact that it's not just you?" he asked, and his voice sounded funny again, breathless and gaspy and desperate. He stared up at Keith, trying to order his thoughts, to make himself /think/, because his brain didn't seem to want to /work/.

Stranger: Keith sat down in front of Lance, slower and a bit more in control, sitting close enough that his legs were overlapping Lance's. "Lance, don't look at me like that, /please/. I'm trying here, I'm trying to- to do /something/ right. I don't want to be the reason you /break/. I don't want to fuck this up. But I also don't want to give up on something that could be the best thing in my goddamn /life/ just because it might also be hard." Keith forced himself to say, forced himself to stop thinking about a bus ticket away, forced himself to think about doing laundry with Lance laughing by his side when he /inevitably/ fucked it up somehow. Putting up all the clothes in that bag next to Lance's clothing in /their/ closet. "I want a life of my own. But when I say that, I mean I want a life with /you/. And oh god, I'm rambling which is usually your job, and I sound like I'm fucking /proposing/ and I don't even know if I am. But /forever/ with /you/?! God. I /want/ that. So fucking get your brain in working order and give me something I can /understand/, because I'm having thoughts of /staying/." Keith informed him, meaning every single word, every thought.

You: "I--" Lance was still staring at Keith, still trying to order his thoughts, because holy shit holy shitholyshit how was he supposed to think with Keith baring his soul to him like this? No, he needed to think. Keith was asking him to, and he was right. Lance needed to get his thoughts together, get /himself/ together so they could figure this out. He glanced down, down at where Keith's legs were pressed against his own, and reached out, slowly settling a hand against one of Keith's shins and staring at it as though he didn't even realise he'd done it. "You have no /idea/ how much I want you," he finally said, speaking slowly, forcing himself to think /before/ he spoke instead of after. He was choosing his words carefully, and it showed on his face, as he furrowed his brow deeply. "I don't even think /I/ have a full idea of how much I want you. To /have that/ with you. You think... You think that you're going to break me, but... Keith, you and I are both already pretty damn broken. But I feel /better/ when I'm with you. Even when we're bickering about something stupid, or when you get better grades than me... I wouldn't trade any of that for anything else in the entire world. You can't break something that's already broken, and I don't even think it's possible for you to, because you make me feel /fixed/. I'm fucked up, but I'm less fucked up when we're fucked up together." He finally, slowly let his gaze trail back up to Keith's face, meeting his gaze because it was what felt /right/. "I want you," he finished with, plain and simple, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at Keith, as Keith looked back at him. "I want you to stay. I want /you./"

Stranger: "Okay. Okay. We can do this, /together/. I want you and you want me and we're in love and we can do this." Keith said firmly, taking both of Lance's hands with his this time, lacing their fingers together just like he had that first time. "And yeah, okay it's a little soon to propose, but no one else has ever managed to make the fire in me go out or at least cool down like you do. So just know that somewhere down the line, I swear to god McClain, I won't be able to call you that anymore. I'm staying with you. /Staying/. And we'll be a little less broken, a little less /fucked/ up together. Even when we fight and you have to chase me to the edge of fucking town. We're gonna fucking do this together." Keith decided firmly, not noticing that the rain had completely stopped, the world a silent grey around them, the only color in his world being that oceanic blue of Lance's eyes locked on the gunmetal blue of Keith's.

You: Lance found himself leaning forward, until his forehead bumped gently against Keith's, until he could barely see Keith's beautiful, beautiful eyes because of their proximity. He couldn't help himself; Keith was so full of /life/ and /passion/ and Lance honestly didn't understand how other people couldn't see that, how anyone could have left this incredible kid when he obviously had so much to give, so much love to offer. Whoever his parents had been, if Keith ever did find them, Lance was going to give them a swift kick in the behind for ever daring to cause Keith so much strife in his life, for leaving him when they should have stayed for every second of his childhood. He held tightly to Keith's hands, revelling in the /rightness/ of their palms pressing together, of their fingers interwoven with one another's. "We can do this," he repeated firmly, matching Keith's tone. "We can do it together. We /will/ do it together."

Stranger: Keith stood slowly, guiding Lance to his feet along with him, separating one of their hands so he could fall into place right next to Lance. Right where he belonged. "Now, how about we get home, get out of our wet clothing, probably take hot showers, get some soup, and some goddamn sleep? I vote we push the beds together." Keith mused, guilt still seeping into his voice as he grabbed his bag, glancing at Lance to see that much too vibrant bruise, his knuckles aching with the not so old memory already.

You: Nodding in agreement, Lance allowed Keith to help him up, pleased when he didn't pull his hand away this time. He found himself looking around, faintly amazed because it... was no longer raining. It wasn't as though the sun was shining or anything, but the torrential downpour had passed, leaving the world a rather gloomy grey that didn't at all match the elation leaping within Lance. "I like that plan," he agreed, falling into step beside Keith as they began the walk back towards their apartment. "I'm not sure if I should... um, sleep, though. Or you'll just have to wake me up in a couple hours," he said carefully, regretting even having to bring it up. The last thing he wanted was for Keith to start beating himself up (again) for... well, beating him up.

Stranger: Keith was already in the midst of hating himself, eyes seeming to match the grey world around them as they widened slightly, realizing he gave Lance a goddamn /concussion/. "I.. fuck." Keith hissed a breath out between his teeth, hand tightening around Lance's as something squeezed his heart like a spiked vice, the blood covering his insides turning into a punishing liquid fire. Reignited. Towards himself this time. "I'm so fucking stupid. I shouldn't /ever/ hit you. I know that we have before, but I was doing /better/. You /never/ deserved it."

You: Lance looked over towards him, a frown on his face. "I'm okay, Kogane. You'd know it if I wasn't, because I'd still be on the ground." He ran his thumb over the back of Keith's hand, an absent motion to attempt to calm him. "I goaded you into it. I knew what I was doing. And I swear, I'm okay. I just want to be on the safe side." When Keith's expression remained unchanged, Lance stepped in front of him and stopped walking. "Keith, I /knew/ what I was doing. I knew what would happen if I didn't back down. I did it anyways, because... Because I know you need to get all that shit inside of you out. There are probably better ways to do that, and... hey, we can figure them out. Together. I swear I'm okay, alright?"

#torrential downpour #klance #klance rp #klance roleplay #voltron #vld #voltron rp #omegling #omegle rp #omegle roleplay #omegle #rp #roleplay #violence//#punching//#anger//

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