Work Text:
Keith bit his lip and took another swallow of his drink. It stung the back of his throat.
His grip on the red cup in his hand was tight, maybe too tight but who really cared? Not Keith.
He stared out the window and the rain pounded. He couldn’t hear it because of the damn music somebody was blasting. It wasn’t even good music either. A flash of lightning broke through the sky and he turned around.
Some other guy was pouring himself a drink but from the way his hand wobbled, he had already had enough. Keith walked over and took the bottle of vodka from him and set it on the table. “Dude, don’t give yourself alcohol poisoning.”
“You c’n’t talk,” he slurred, squinting at Keith’s cup.
“I’m not the one who can’t walk straight, am I?” Keith scoffed. “Who’re you here with anyways?” He took another sip.
The guy shrugged. “None ya.”
Keith rolled his eyes. “Well, go find them or I’ll have to drag you around and tell everybody to not give you anymore drinks.”
The guy slowly and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. He let out a long slow groan and stumbled out of the kitchen. Keith trailed him for a bit until he saw that someone recognized the dude and started talking to him. Good.
Keith looked around the room and his eyes settled on one specific breathtakingly beautiful boy. Not good. Keith tilted his cup back and downed the rest of his drink.
He walked over to where Lance was playing beer pong. That dick Lotor was across the table from him. Lance was obviously winning, of course.
He laughed loudly and turned to shout something to Hunk over the music.
Keith just watched him move, his toned arms looked beautiful-- he was wearing a tank even though it was probably 40 degrees outside. He was sweating but it just made his brown skin look glowy in Keith’s eyes.
Keith walked into the kitchen again and filled his cup to the brim, taking a few gulps off the top and wincing slightly at the taste. He turned back around and walked into the room where Lance was.
Keith was gay. Suuuperr gay. Boys, boys, boys gay. Could see a girl in her underwear and only think to say, "oh, those are cute," gay.
Lance was bi, Keith knew that. And Keith had the biggest crush on Lance-- no it was more than a crush. He liked him, a lot.
There were a couple of problems.
One, Lance thought that Keith hated him, that they were rivals or some bullshit. Keith had no clue where he pulled that from but he understood that he wasn’t the most friendly or likable guy.
Which was problem number two. Keith was a bad guy. Not like a bad person or anything but like, not a good person. He got into fights with everyone and hardly ever lost. He went off fairly easily but as long as nobody stepped on his toes it was fine.
But what wasn’t fine? Oh, that’s right. Number three.
Lance was too loyal. Which, Keith thought, would actually be wonderful if he was loyal to Keith. But he was loyal to Allura.
Lance had a girlfriend and he loved her very much.
Fuck Keith and his stupid awful brain thinking about a guy in a relationship, thinking about breaking them up. Awful horrible stupid.
He gritted his teeth and stared down at his cup.
“Why are you smiling?”
Keith’s head shot up. “Lance.”
The good-natured-- and slightly inebriated-- smile slipped from his lips. “Oh, did I interrupt something, shit, sorry, I’ll--” He turned to walk away.
“No.” Keith grabbed his hand. “You’re fine, you’re good.”
Lance turned to face him again. “Okay. Um, can I have my hand back?” Keith let go and tried his best to not blush and give himself away.
He took another swig of his drink.
“Where have you been?” Lance asked.
Brooding in the kitchen didn’t sound very suave. “Dancing,” he blurted. What the hell?
Lance nodded. “You’re probably good at that.”
Keith chuckled. “I’m okay.” Dammit, Lance was so beautiful and so trusting?
“Have you seen Allura?”
The smile dropped from his face but he kept his teeth bared. “Nope, I haven’t seen her.”
Lance nodded again. “Well, I’m gonna go find her! See you around!”
Lance disappeared, weaving his way through bodies and limbs and sweat. “Yeah, see you,” Keith whispered.
Keith chugged what was left in his cup, which was most of it.
He kept his cup raised to his mouth and chewed on the rim. He wanted to drink more but his head was starting to feel foggy. Drinking more would be stupid, impulsive.
He stomped back into the kitchen and filled his cup about half-full with a bottle of liquor that was sitting on the counter.
The counter was cold as he put his hands on either side of his cup. Speckled with small bits of dark color, it was granite and looked more expensive than his entire kitchen at home.
"No more," he whispered to himself as he took a small sip.
He wandered around and ended up heading down to the basement.
There was a pool table and he recognized a few classmates. Nobody he ever talked to. They were playing poorly.
He took another drink and looked around for the TV set he thought he remembered being in this basement.
There were some shuffling noises coming from around a corner and he walked around.
He gripped his cup and it crackled loudly-- not loudly enough to be heard over the bass of whatever stupid fucking song was playing.
Lance and Allura were pressed up against one another against a wall, legs tangled up. Allura was pressing Lance into the wall. Keith wanted to be her.
Their lips met and Lance started giggling and Allura started laughing. Lance buried his face in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He mumbled something Keith didn't hear.
Allura reached up and started running her fingers through his hair gently. She murmured back at him.
Lance drew his face out of her shoulder with a syrupy smile and opened his mouth to make a remark, but his eyes focused on Keith. He cleared his throat and looked nervously at Allura. She turned and made a small noise of surprise.
"Hello, Keith." She smiled at him softly. Not as softly as she looked at Lance, or as softly as she whispered Lance's name.
"H'llo." Fuck. He was drunk right now, right?
He took a sip of his drink, even though he wanted to down the rest of the bottle that was probably still sitting on that stupid granite counter.
Lance looked a bit nervous. "Did you? Need anything, Keith?"
You. No no no.
"Um. Uh, yes? Um." Keith swallowed hard. "Can I talk to you?"
Allura and Lance exchanged a glance and Lance smiled at her. Keith couldn't help but notice how Lance squeezed her hand gently and she rubbed his hand with her thumb. He wanted that.
"I'll find you again right after, okay?" Lance told her. She nodded and moved to walk away.
Keith was blocking the way partially and she pushed past him, bumping his shoulder.
That bump was right. He needed to back off.
It wasn't even really that Allura was a bad person. She had never been mean to him. Maybe sort of rude sometimes, but only because of how honest she was. It wasn't on purpose.
Honestly, she was the type of person Lance deserved. Of course Lance loved her.
Of course Lance hated him.
Lance stood staring at him. Keith felt his face heat up. He was probably bright red. Stupid.
"So what's up, Keith?" Lance looked concerned but he was probably just angry that Keith interrupted. His head was too foggy.
Keith took a deep breath and stepped up to Lance. The music was too loud.
"Keith?" Lance was confused and tried to step back but he was too close to the wall.
Keith closed his eyes and whispered, "Sorry."
He pushed his lips up against Lance's. Lance's lips were warm and soft and exactly how Keith imagined. But this was wrong and bad and oh what the fuck was he doing?
Lance reached a hand up and pushed it up against Keith's shoulder firmly. Keith pulled back and his eyes teared up.
Lance looked frustrated. "You're drunk."
"'m sorry." Keith couldn't see clearly anymore, the tears were making everything blurry.
"You shouldn't have done that."
"I know. 'm sorry." Keith felt a tear run down his face and he closed his eyes again and swallowed hard.
Lance made an angry noise. Finally. "I love her, okay? This is fucked up, Keith. You can't just do impulsive bullshit like this. You can't do this shit."
Keith nodded. "Yeah. 'm sorry."
Lance sighed. "I'd punch you if you weren't drunk. Or maybe I would if I was more drunk." He shook his head. "Keith, what the fuck?" He started to pace slightly, about two steps back and forth.
Keith just stood there with his shoulders hunched and his eyes stuck focused on the cup in his hand. "I know you hate me but I don' hate you an 'm sorry."
"Stop saying you're fucking sorry, that doesn't take it back. This is... This is fucked up, Keith." Lance stopped pacing and rubbed his hand across his face. "Just because I don't and can't love you doesn't mean that I hate you. But you need to go. Right now."
Keith stopped crying and swallowed the rest of his drink. About a shot's worth.
Can't love you.
"I'm already gone. I'm--" Keith cut himself off sharply. Lance said don't apologize. "Leaving."
He turned to go.
"Keith!"
Keith stopped, his drunk heart beating hard and heavy against his tight chest.
"Give me your keys." Lance swallowed hard and Keith watched his Adam's apple.
"What?" His voice cracked.
"I don't want you to drive, give me your keys."
Keith stood and stared at him. He slowly drew his keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Lance, who tucked them into his back pocket. "Go."
Keith stomped his way away and up the basement stairs and through the kitchen to grab that damn half-full bottle of liquor off of the damn granite counter.
He felt like an animal as he slammed his way out of the house into the rain.
He choked on the sob that left his mouth as he started the awful walk home. He took a swig out of the liquor bottle.
He felt like an animal. A beast in a man's skin.
What did he do, oh god, what did he do?