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Keith was twelve. He had a foster brother at the time. Keith didn't like him- he was loud and sloppy and rude and didn't respect Keith's personal space. What Keith was thankful for was that his foster brother was nearly always out of the house. Either with friends or on a date. But that day, his foster brother was home because it was raining outside, and as Keith mentioned before, he didn't respect his personal space. In other words, his foster brother had chosen to hang around him.
It wasn't too bad, this time, actually. His foster brother had asked Keith (read: dragged Keith in) to play a video game with him. Keith was doing really well. It was an easy game, a car racing game. All Keith had to do was move the controls just right at just the right time, and Keith was always pretty good at that. At first, his foster brother had been impressed- Keith had never played before- but as the levels got harder and Keith only got better, his foster brother got increasingly annoyed. In fact, before he had ended the game, his foster brother had let out a string of curses (Keith forgot to mention that; he cursed a lot) threw his controller down, and stormed out of the room.
Keith sat still in the room, and huddled in on himself. He had done something wrong hadn't he? Keith wondered what the right thing to do was. Should he turn off the game? Should he leave it on? Should he stay here? Should he leave the room? Keith didn't know and that terrified him. He didn't want to make his foster brother more mad.
His foster brother came back into the room, dragging his hands down his face. Keith stiffened- had he made the right choice?
"Do you wanna just... talk, or something?" asked his foster brother, sitting down back where he was sitting before. He glared at the control and at his TV, before grabbing the remote and turning it off with a harsh click. "I dunno what else to do, and I'm bored."
His foster brother still seemed... annoyed, but it wasn't as bad as when he had left, so Keith found himself relaxing a little. Keith nodded, wary of what would happen if he said no before remembering the times his foster brother told him to speak up, and forced out a quick, "Alright."
"So uh..." His foster brother looked around the room lazily. "Is there like, any cute girls you like?"
"What?" Keith asked. He was generally confused, what did his foster brother mean by that? Why would he ask?
"Com'on there’s gotta be!" His foster brother said, voice suddenly loud, gesturing with his hands. "Everyone's got a crush on someone."
Oh. A crush. That’s what his foster brother was asking.
"Not really," Keith mumbled. Other kids at his school talked about crushes, but Keith hadn't felt like that around anyone. He hadn't wanted to date anyone, hadn't met anyone who made him giggle or smile goofy or want to show off to.
"Don't lie to me," his foster brother said, nudging Keith with his elbow. "You've gotta like some girl in your class."
Keith rubbed at the place his foster brother's elbow had touched him. He wasn't lying, but his foster brother didn't believe him. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to lie. He ended up saying nothing.
His foster brother hadn't liked it. He had kept pushing and pushing, but Keith had stayed silent the whole time, he had just shut down. His foster brother had physically pushed him out of the room, calling him a weirdo and a freak. Keith had only been twelve.
--
Keith was thirteen. In class a girl next to him had asked if he had a crush on another girl in the class, blushing slightly as she did. Keith didn't understand why that would embarrass her. Remembering what his foster brother from his last home had said made Keith clamber up. He had to have a crush on someone, or else he wasn't normal. So he thought for a moment about what a crush was. A pretty, nice girl, right? Keith had to think, what pretty, nice girl did he know?
Keith floundered for a moment, before he spit out,"You," to the pretty, nice girl sitting next to him. He hadn't known what else to say.
The girl's face had turned pink before she beamed, smiling big and wide. What Keith had said made the girl happy, which made Keith happy too. But something about it still felt off, like something that was supposed to be there, wasn't. Like Keith was missing something.
The pretty, nice girl started to sit with him at lunch, and at first it made Keith happy. He didn't have any friends before that, really, so this was a very nice change. He wasn't alone anymore. She had quickly told Keith that she had a crush on him too, that she liked him, and soon they started dating. The pretty, nice girl wasn't just his friend, she was more than that, she was his girlfriend. Which at the time, Keith had thought was something like a best friend, but a girl instead of a guy. And with a girlfriend he was supposed to do special stuff. And he did.
It was nice, at first. Having the pretty, nice girl as his girlfriend bestfriend, having someone to hang out with after school, having someone to eat with, having someone to go to the park with, having someone to go to when he didn't want to go back to his foster house.
But then it wasn't nice. It changed slowly, like the clouds. Always slow, but always changing. You can't see the change as it happens but then suddenly it was there. There was something there that was missing. Something the pretty, nice girl had but Keith did not. It was one-sided, uneven, broken. One day the pretty, nice girl came up to Keith and he could tell she was holding back sobs. She was crying and sobbing as she forced out the break-up, venom and hate and sadness overwhelming her voice. Keith had broken her heart, and he hadn't even known what he did. He had been only thirteen.
--
Keith was only fourteen. He was in a group project and forced to go over to a classmates house. It was four of them, Keith included. The other three were friends, having jumped together as soon as "group project" had been announced. They had been the only group of three when everyone had matched into groups of four, so Keith had been forced with them. It was alright, mostly. Stay quiet, do what’s asked of you, don't get in the way. Keith was good at that, being obedient, being invisible.
That is, until one of his classmates had turned to quiet and asked,"What about you? Who do you have a crush on?"
Keith tensed up immediately as his classmate asked him. His foster brother from a few foster houses ago had told him he was a freak according to his answer. But last year, he had ended up breaking someone's heart according to his answer. It had taken some time for Keith to realize why it had happened like it did, why it had felt so off, and it’s because he had realized she had felt something Keith hadn't. Keith didn't have that soft warm tingly feeling people described as a crush because Keith didn't have a crush. And he didn't have one now.
What did he say? Did he risk being called a freak, but tell the truth? Did he risk saying he had a crush on some girl, which risked the chance of him ending up with that girl, but would be seen as normal? It was an easy decision to make. Keith has always been weird, and while it was nice to be normal in at least one way, having a crush wouldn't fix everything. And anyways, Keith would do anything in his power to keep himself from hurting someone else, from breaking another girls heart.
"I don't have a crush on anyone." Keith had responded, gritting his teeth and waiting for the insults to come.
They didn't believe him at first, of course. They never believed him. They threw insult after insult too. One of which he had never heard before.
Gay. It was the first time hearing the word, sneered at him like he was a freak. Keith had only been fourteen.
--
Keith was only fourteen. A new boy had joined from another school.
The new boy was tall, and had rich olive skin, and dark messy curly hair. His eyes were brown, and twinkled in the sunlight. Keith thinks the favorite thing about him was his jawline, the way the muscle and fat and skin shifted as he talked. The new boy was pretty, like the pretty, nice girl but not. The pretty, nice girl had been pretty like a sunset. But the new boy was pretty in a way that made something settle deep in his gut.
Keith looked up what the word gay meant. It meant that not liking girls was an option. It meant liking boys was.
Keith looked at the new boy once after that. Maybe twice, three times, or more. The new boy wasn't just pretty, he was captivating, and Keith couldn't look away. The new boy met his eyes once and Keith blushed, turning pink and ducking his head in embarrassment.
The new boy wasn't just a pretty boy to Keith. The new boy meant that Keith liked someone. And sure, maybe to some people, being gay made Keith a freak. But how much of a freak could Keith be if he actually liked someone? If he wasn't alone in that?
Keith found out he wasn't as alone as he thought he was. He had only been fourteen.
--
Keith was only fifteen. He had met Shiro, and he had gotten into the Garrison. He didn't tell Shiro he was gay. Being gay was a bit of a comfort for him, it meant that he wasn't so much of a freak that he didn't like anyone. But at the same time it meant he was still a freak. Shiro was the first real family he had sense his dad died, and Keith couldn't tell him. Keith couldn't lose him too.
But there was a pretty boy in his class. He was an inch or so shorter than Keith. He always pulled up his Garrison uniform to his elbows. Someone had asked him once, and he has said it felt more comfortable, and let his skin breathe. Sometimes Keith would wonder what it would be like if the pretty boy had rolled his sleeves all the way up to his arms. The pretty boy was pale, with a slight tan, and had short wavy blonde hair styled in an undercut. His eyes were dark brown, but warm, and in the light of the washed out Garrison classroom, somehow it made his eyes look like space. He had freckles too, but only on his cheeks. Keith didn't know what he liked more. The defined slope of his nose, and the freckles -stars- that danced on it. Or maybe it was the back of his neck, the way the short hair faded into his skin. Keith wondered what it would be like to touch, to feel the soft hair prickle under his fingertips, and to feel the muscles shift as the pretty boy turned. Or maybe it was his hands- they way they looked rough and calloused, but where always moving. What would those hands feel like around Keith's wrists?
The pretty boy was pretty, like the new boy. And like the new boy, Keith looked once, twice, three times, and more. The pretty boy was captivating, Keith couldn't get himself to look away. The pretty boy met his gaze once, and Keith had blushed and ducked his head, embarrassed.
The pretty boy had too.
Shiro noticed. Shiro had noticed the way that Keith had been staring at the pretty boy. The way how Keith had been staring like the boys in his class stared at girls.
Shiro had noticed Keith was gay.
Shiro had turned Keith around, and pushed him.
Gently in the direction of the pretty boy. Shiro had told him,"Go talk to him."
Shiro hadn't seen Keith as a freak. Shiro hadn't pushed him away. Shiro encouraged it. Shiro accepted it. Shiro accepted Keith, just the way he was. Keith had to hold back tears.
Keith talked to the pretty boy. Well, he had tried to. He couldn't bring himself to say words at first, but the pretty boy had smiled, and shifted over so Keith could sit next to him. The pretty boy's friends had gawked- Keith didn't know why- but Keith didn't care. His mind was going crazy. He was sitting next to the pretty boy!
They started to hang out more. The pretty boy was quiet, and didn't talk much in class. The pretty boy was quiet around Keith too, but that was okay. Keith liked the silence, liked just having the pretty boy next to him, even though it always made him a little warm and fidgety. The pretty boy started to talk first. His voice was low, and soft, but full of excitement. Keith liked his voice, it was pretty, just like him. The pretty boy wasn't an pilot; neither fighter nor cargo, wasn't an engineer, and wasn't a communications specialist. The pretty boy was a scientist. He liked astronomy, his favorite part was the study of stars.
The pretty boy and Keith had decided that sense they both liked to star gaze, to meet up on the roof of the Garrison every couple of nights. They would spend the time together, getting closer and closer. Keith was happy because the pretty boy was happy. But something still felt off.
Keith pushed it away though, because when he looked at the pretty boy, when he looked at his nose, or his neck, or his hands, he felt something he hadn't felt with the pretty, nice girl. This was a crush, wasn't it?
One night, the pretty boy had leaned over and kissed Keith.
It took a second for Keith to realize what was going on, but once he did he melted into it, and kissed back harder. This was it. This is what Keith had wanted. When he looked at the pretty boy, at his nose, at his neck, at his hands, at his soft pink lips... this is what Keith had wanted. To touch. To feel good. This was a crush, Keith finally understood.
Over time, Keith and the pretty boy kept meeting up. Kept kissing. Kept getting closer.
One night, the pretty boy broke from a kiss, took Keith's hands in his, and whispered shyly and softly as if he would break if he said them too loud. "I... I want to go out on a real date. In town."
They were both closested from anyone except for their close friends and family. Close friends on the pretty boy's side, and family on Keith's.
Keith felt something immediately at that. He couldn't describe it, it felt wrong somehow. Like back with the pretty, nice girl, and how she felt something Keith didn't, and expected Keith to feel it too. That didn't make sense. Keith felt that way with the pretty, nice girl because she had a crush and Keith didn't. But Keith had a crush, this time. The pretty boy was pretty, and the way he looked made Keith feel something deep in the pit of his stomach. And Keith loved to kiss the pretty boy, it felt good. It felt good with him. That was a crush, wasn't it?
"Why?" Keith asked the pretty boy, like he couldn't believe he asked. Why did they need to go on a real date? They had fun up here, looking at the stars just the two of them. Enjoying each other's company. Kissing.
"I know we're not out, publicly. But I really, really like you, a lot. And this," The pretty boy gestured around them,"Isn't enough anymore. I want to do more with you. I want to go on a real date."
Keith was frozen. That bad feeling, that feeling where he knew the pretty boy felt something that Keith didn't climbed up in him, growing larger and larger. Keith couldn't speak, he didn't know what to say. This was supposed to be a crush.
"Its okay if you don't wanna do it right away," the pretty boy shrugged sheepishly,"I just thought, sense you're out to Shiro and he has a car, maybe we could go have dinner and a movie one weekend?"
That bad feeling pounded away at him, anxiety rising and pushing at him, trying to find its way out.
"Keith?" The pretty boy asked, cocking his head slightly, resting his hand on Keith's leg.
The hand on his leg burns, it crushes him. All Keith can think if is that bad feeling, and how much he wants to get away. So he does.
He runs, leaving the pretty boy there alone, confused, and heartbroken. Keith doesn't have the heart to face him, so he makes sure to avoid him at all costs. Keith never talks to him again.
Shiro had come out to Keith that year too. Shiro had said he was ace, which meant he wasn't sexually attracted to anyone.
Not liking girls was an option. Apparently so was not liking boys. Keith could just, not like anyone.
He wasn't the only person like that. But thinking about the pretty boy, and kissing him, Keith felt... empty. Keith had only been fifteen.
--
Keith was only sixteen. He went to see Shiro to help him with homework. Keith knocked on the door to Shiro's apartment, and Adam opened the door.
"Is Shiro home?" Keith asked, fidgeting nervously.
It wasn't that Keith didn't like Adam, it was that Keith didn't really know Adam. Keith had never made a point to get to know Adam, and Adam hadn't either so... it was awkward. And anxiety inducing for Keith to be around just Adam. Keith didn't know Adam, so he didn't trust him. Sure, Shiro trusted Adam and that was supposed to count for something, but Keith couldn't help it. He still felt guarded around Adam.
Adam didn't say anything, only looking at Keith with a confused look on his face. "Did Shiro not tell you?"
Keith shook his head. What was Adam talking about? Did Shiro go on vacation or something and not tell Keith? Was Shiro trying to get away from Keith?
"We-" Adam paused for a moment, pressing his mouth into a firm line. "We broke up." Adam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He moved to a different apartment, one that’s closer to the student living area."
"Oh." Keith said dumbly. He didn't really know what to say. Shiro moved apartments without telling Keith where the new one was? Shiro and Adam had been dating?
"Sorry," Adam shrugged,"I don't know which one it is."
Keith didn't really know what to say to that, so he just didn't say anything. He turned and left, and went back to his dorm. On the way there though, he ran into Shiro.
Shiro had explained quickly why he hadn't yet told Keith where his new apartment was as they walked there. Shiro said that he had meant to do it, but everytime he did he thought of Adam and his breakup, and couldn't manage to finish the sentence. Shiro and Adam had been dating. They had liked each other.
"I thought you said you where asexual?" Keith asked, rubbing his arm.
I thought being asexual meant you didn't like people. That you didn't get crushes.
"I am," Shiro explained gently,"I'm not sexually attracted to anyone. But I'm still romantically attracted to people. I still get crushes."
Shiro still got crushes, just slightly different than most people. Shiro was ace, and he was still normal. He wasn't a freak.
"It's... normal for ace people to get crushes?" Keith asked, crossing his arms tightly against himself.
"Oh yeah, perfectly normal," Shiro said, then looked down at Keith and noticed his expression. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Keith gritted out, crossing his arms tighter.
Shiro frowned, back thankfully didn't push Keith any farther.
Ace people still got crushes. Keith didn't get crushes. He realized he was a freak, utterly alone in the world. Keith had only been sixteen.
--
Keith was only seventeen. The Kerberos Mission failed. Pilot error. As if. His brother Shiro hadn't crashed, hadn't died, and neither had Matt or Sam Holt. They weren't dead, but they would be if the Garrison didn't do anything about it. But of course, they didn't, hiding behind 'pilot error'. Hiding behind their own lies. Keith remembers being in his piloting class, and Iverson had reprimanded another student, saying something along the lines of, that's what caused the Kerberos Mission to fail. He had said it like it was some sort of cautionary tale, and not real people who were still alive and still in danger. Keith's vision had turned red, and the next thing he knew, he was kicked out of the Garrison. Good, he didn't want to be around a bunch of cowardly liars in the first place.
With Shiro gone (just like everyone else he had ever loved), and without the routine of the Garrison, Keith was left lonely and without anything to distract him from it.
While looking around on the internet, trying to fight his boredom, trying to fight the loneliness that ached deep in his chest, Keith had found a word. Aromantic. It meant not experiencing romantic attraction. That not having a crush was an option. He also found out that some aromantics were asexual too, they didn't feel sexual attraction either. But some aros weren't. Some aros did feel sexual attraction. It meant Keith could be gay, and aro.
But being aro meant not having a crush. Being aro meant not liking anyone. Being aro meant not having anyone to love, and that meant not having anyone to love him. It meant being alone.
So when the hot guy working at a motor shop Keith visited frequently askrd him out, Keith said yes. Keith liked looking at the hot guy, and the way his arm muscles flex underneath his shirt. The hot guy made Keith feel something in the pit of his stomach, and Keith had looked once, twice, and more. The hot guy was nice too, and generally not that bad to be around. That was a crush, wasn't it?
Keith knew it wasn't. Knew it wasn't. Knew if he said it was even though it wasn't-
He wouldn't be alone. Keith accepted the fact that he was gay, and he went out with the hot guy, and he wasn't alone. Keith had only been seventeen.
--
Keith is only eighteen. At least, that’s how old he was, last time he checked. But Keith is in space, and in space it’s hard to keep track of time. Lance had dragged Keith along into a space mall -not the one they had gotten banned from- and after disappearing for a second Lance brung him in front of two alien girls.
"Are you... trying to set me up with someone?" Keith turns to Lance and asks.
"Duh," Lance says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. "Come on man, you look like you could use a little fun, just some time to relax."
"Being on a date with some girl does not sound like my kind of fun, Lance." Keith deadpans, hoping Lance gets the message.
"Yeah, I know that social interaction isn't exactly your thing, but this girl is really easy to talk to, even you can't mess this up," Lance jokes, patting Keith on the back.
Keith winces, not from the contact, but from Lance's insistence on Keith going on a date. Keith wouldn't like the girl, couldn't like her. And it would be awkward for the girl to show interest in Keith and him not being able to show interest back.
Terrified of how Lance will respond, Keith manages to get the words out,"That's not what I meant, Lance." While social interaction definitely factored into Keith not liking it, it was the fact that it was a date that mattered.
Lance looks at Keith with a confused look on his face, before going,"Ohh!" Lance smirks,"I getcha, guys are more your thing." Lance shrugs, somehow making such a simple action seem overdramatic and cocky,"You know I like to bat for both teams myself."
Not exactly. Keith can't help the way he stiffens up, because of course, when he told Lance that he wasn't interested in dating girls, instead of thinking Keith didn't want to date anyone, Lance thought Keith wanted to date guys instead. Because really, how could anyone not want to date?
"I'm not interested in dating guys either Lance." Keith hopes Lance believes him. He really hopes Lance believes him.
Lance gives Keith a confused look. Keith grits his teeth, telling himself mentally to not panic. Of course Lance thinks he’s a freak, of course he does.
“So you don’t wanna date anyone?” Lance asks, eyebrows raised.
“No.” Keith grits out, and then before he can stop himself, he says,”I’m aromantic. I don’t feel romantic attraction to anyone.”
“Oh.” Is all Lance says, rubbing the back of his neck. Lance looks back to the girls, and to Keith he says,”I’ll be right back,” before walking away.
Keith waits patiently- well- not-so-patiently. He’s tapping his foot, then shifted his weight between each leg, then full on paces. It would make sense for Lance to ditch Keith once he knows he can’t participate in one of Lance’s favorite things: romance.
But to Keith’s surprise, he comes back. Lance comes back.
“Sorry, telling those girls we were a no-go for the double-dates took longer than I thought it would, you owe me for that dude,” Lance says as he comes up to him.
“What?” Keith asks, brain short circuiting. Did Lance seriously just turn down a date? To make Keith more comfortable over all things? “You seriously did that… for me?”
“Yeah, man, it’s no big deal. I’m trying to have fun with you. It won’t be fun watching you be uncomfortable.” Lance shrugs.
Keith opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, and opens it again. In the back of his mind Keith knows he looks like a fish, but he just can’t get his brain and mouth to work. Finally he says something, so quiet like if saying it out loud would break him,”...You don’t think it’s, I don’t know… weird that I don’t get crushes?”
Lance shrugs again. “Look, I may not get it, but it’s not my job to tell you how you feel. If you say you’re aromantic, then you’re aromantic in my book dude.”
It feels like a weight has been lifted off Keith’s shoulders. Hesitantly, Keith says,”Well, I do sorta get crushes.”
Lance looks at him weirdly,”You just said you don’t?”
“Well,” Keith scratches the back of his head,”I’m still sexually attracted to guys but not romantically attracted to anyone. I’m both aromantic and gay.”
Lance simply nods as he takes the information in. Then a sly smile appears on his face,”We should totally have a flirting competition! Rules- only flirt with guys and no romantic lines. Once I win you gotta buy me lunch.”
Keith crosses his arms and rolls his eyes,”I am not doing that.” He can’t help though the small smile that appears on his face. Lance doesn’t find him weird, or a freak. Lance accepts him.
Keith comes out to the rest of the team when he comes back to the castle. Everyone accepts him of course. Everyone accepts him. Keith nearly cries.
Keith realizes he doesn’t need a crush when he’s got a family. He is only eighteen.