Chapter Text
Senior year was already kicking Keith’s ass and it just started. They barely got past syllabus week and he was already stressing about exams…group projects…the workload in general. The days passed—stressful and chaotic. As the weeks passed, the student no longer paid attention to the numbers on the calendar. He only saw the due dates, only looking at the individual numbers to cross them off.
He crossed off the passing days.
Another week.
Another month.
The young man looked down at the calendar on his phone and sighed. He looked at the amount of colors that consumed his time. It had now been 2 months since the start of the semester. He was halfway, in a way…just needed another half and he’d be done. Easy.
His unfinished assignment peeked out from behind his phone, causing him to sigh again. He rubbed his eyes. Man, this has been a long semester.
Which, Keith felt silly thinking because the semester literally just started. That was like saying ‘man, this has been a long week,’ on a Tuesday, or ‘man, it’s been a long year’ in February.
Same kinda vibes.
And if anything, it was mostly his own fault. Mostly because he made his schedule, but it wasn’t his fault that there were only 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week. It wasn’t his fault that his classes were demanding more hours than possible. It wasn’t his fault that his responsibilities demanded more days than he could give.
His classes filled up two full days, internships took up two more, and work stole the remaining time he had left. The days he had any semblance of free time, he spent it finishing assignments or trying to have a social life. Which, was usually him hanging out with his brother…and his [said] brother claimed that hanging out with him didn’t count as having a social life. But Keith ignored him. It counted in his eyes.
Anyway, after his morning shift that day, he then went to one of his internships at this weird lab-place. That was the best way to explain it. After, he had dinner at his brother (Shiro)’s house. The older brother claimed he invited him over because he felt generous and missed him…but Keith also knew that his husband was gone on a business trip, so he was probably bored…that fake bastard.
Whatever.
They ate dinner and ended up watching a movie; Keith knocking out at the slightest sense of comfort when laying on the couch; the stresses from school finally catching up to him and pulling him into a deep sleep.
That’s what lead to Keith waking up with a painful crick in his neck and his hair plastered wildly to his damp forehead. Groaning, he picked up his heavy head and looked his phone.
2:12 AM
He weighed the pros and cons of staying on the couch, finally deciding that the last thing he needed was to be sore and tired and cranky, so he got up and gathered all of his things before letting himself out with his spare key. Ever so quietly, he closed and locked the front door, sneaking out into the quiet of the nighttime.
The outside air felt nice against his warm skin and the drive back to campus was a peaceful one. It was nice not having to worry about students getting in the way at every crosswalk and whatnot. He quickly parked his car and walked in the direction of his dorm building.
‘Walked’ was a very generous term. His footsteps were so heavy, he was mostly just dragging his feet like they were weighed down by extra gravity; causing him to move as slow as molasses. Keith reached for his keycard. He wanted it out and ready so he could go straight to his room.
Almost there.
Just a little bit longer.
He went to buzz himself in, home at last, when he suddenly saw movement in his peripheral…which was weird at this time of night—or morning…if he wanted to be specific.
Keith, with no better judgement due to his sleep deprived brain, walked toward the movement. That movement soon turned into a fairly-tall figure laying dead on the grass in front of the building. This stopped Keith in his tracks; the crickets pausing in solidarity.
He did a double take at the somewhat-moving (hopefully breathing) figure situated on the grass. It wasn’t anyone he recognized from his building, so who the heck was this?
He walked closer to investigate.
Cautious.
“Uh, hello?”
The guy didn’t respond.
Fuck. What if this guy was dead?
Keith picked up a small rock and tossed it onto the figure, earning a small groan from the human.
Oh good, he’s alive. He still didn’t open his eyes, though. He tried again to get the guy’s attention, this time picking up a medium sized stick and prodding at the figure.
“Oh—oh god,” said the [now] somewhat conscious stranger. He mumbled a little more; his speech a little slurred like he was just squeezed out of a bartender’s rag.
“Hey,” repeated Keith.
The guy let out a shriek.
Keith shushed him, “you need to be quiet. It’s late.” He was afraid the guy might signal for the lights to turn on… and he didn’t think the stranger’s eyes could handle the lighting equivalent of the sun.
Grass-Guy looked at him, finally registering that there he was a real person standing in front of him. He then quickly put his palms over his eyes—probably in response to the incoming headache that would only worsen as the day continued.
“Fuck—you’re not going to kill me, are you?” asked the stranger.
“Only if you promise not to kill me.”
“Deal. It’s too late to be combative, anyway.”
“Cool.”
“What time is it?”
Keith checked his phone, “half past two. I’m assumin’ you fell asleep here on accident…?”
“Nah, this lawn has a particularly comfortable patch of grass that puts me out like a light. I sleep like a baby.”
He blinked at the stranger, who just smiled.
He’s joking.
Ignoring his remark, Keith offered his hand to the stranger, who gladly took it to hoist himself up. The guy’s hands were freezing—as was the rest of him, probably. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it at the other.
He just got a questioning glare in response.
“To wear.”
“Dude, I’m fine.”
“Your hands are literally freezing cold.” The guy was now well-aware of the goosebumps that ran along his arms and legs. Keith gestured at jacket again.
“Dude…”
The guy was sounding a little too emotional for Keith’s liking, “just put the goddamn jacket on before I take it back.”
“Okay, okay. I’m putting it on.”
“Good.”
“Good.” The guy slid it over his long limbs, the sleeves surprisingly covering him completely. It was a good thing Keith always bought a size up.
“Which way is your dorm?”
The stranger pointed to their left.
“Okay,” said Keith, starting his walk in that same direction.
“Woah, woah, woah, dude. Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna walk you to your dorm."
“Nah, no need.”
“You were just passed out on the grass not even 5 minutes ago…”
“And? I’m fine now. I can make it all by myself. I’m a big boy," said the guy before stumbling on the uneven grass.
Keith just watched the other, giving him a look asking ‘you sure about that?’
“Okay. I wouldn’t mind it if you walked me back…but what if you’re secretly a murderer and only pretending to be nice until you see where I live?”
Keith shook his head before gesturing for them to start walking, “I’m not gonna kill you.” He quite frankly barely had enough energy to think, let alone murder someone right now. Or ever.
“I don’t think you’d be the type to admit it if you were, though”
“That’s true. I wouldn’t admit it.”
The guy laughed at that, “you’re not very good at reassurance.”
Keith shrugged.
They walked in relatively comfortable silence, which was nice. The guy seemed too focused on walking to even try and initiate any form of conversation. That worked in Keith’s favor, if he was being honest. After about 5 minutes though, the guy must have gained some confidence back in his ability to walk because that was when his mouth decided to start functioning again.
“So…what are you doing out so late, anyway?”
“I could ask ya the same thing,” replied Keith.
“True, but I know why I was out…and you can probably guess the reason as well…but I want to know why you were out.”
“It’s none of your concern.”
“Oh, come on.”
Keith didn’t respond.
They continue walking. Grass-Guy stumbled a bit, grabbing onto Keith for stability.
After a beat, Kieth surprised himself by saying, “I was hanging out with my brother. Didn’t feel like sleeping on the couch, so I left.”
“And aren’t I glad you did! This is like, fate.”
“Coincidence.”
“Destiny.”
“An accident.”
“Oh c’mon. What are the odds?”
“Probably pretty high.”
“Nah, because it’s,” the guy checked his phone, “2:42 on a Friday night—well, technically Saturday morning—and you just happened to be walking home and wake me up to save me from being murdered.”
“I can still be a murderer for all you know.”
“Nah, I don’t think you have it in you.”
“I mean, there’s always a first.”
“Oh? A knight-in-shining-armor turned killer. What a thrilling plot-line.”
“I shoulda left ya there.”
The guy let out a sharp gasp, “that’s not very nice.”
“Never said I was nice.”
“You woke me up,” said the guy before stopping in his tracks, pulling out his keycard to enter the building, “and you walked me home. You seem pretty nice to me.”
Well shit, if he put it like that, I guess I am kinda nice, thought Keith. Must be a product of the southern hospitality hardwired into his brain.
He didn’t bother to answer.
“Well, anyway. Thank you, stranger. Your deed will not go unrewarded.” Sleepy Grass Boy then pulled out his wallet and attempted to hand him a crinkled 5 dollar bill. Keith was now offended. The guy really thought he wanted monetary compensation?
“I’m not going to take your money.”
"Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s a good reason.”
“Shut up.”
“Then how can I repay you?”
“Get a good night’s rest. Drink some water.”
“Lame.”
“Okay, then don’t. It’s not my fault if ya die from dehydration.”
“Mean.”
“Once again—I never said I was nice.”
That made the guy laugh.
“What’s your name?”
“Keith.”
“Well, Keith. Thank you, again.”
He extended his hand.
Keith took it.
“And yours?”
“The name’s Lance.”
“Goodnight, Lance.”
The guy smiled, the moon reflecting in his light eyes
Pretty.
He shook his head to release the thought; watching the man buzz himself into the building and disappear behind the tinted front entrance.
And that was that.
That was how Keith ended his night. Exhausted, but happy to help some stranger; the incident soon forgotten in the late morning after waking up. Almost a fever dream of sorts. Once lunch rolled around the next day, Keith forgot entirely…leaving him to wonder where he misplaced his favorite jacket.
A week later, Keith found himself springing out of bed, checking his phone alarm to see that he subconsciously turned it off during the weird limbo between asleep and awake. He threw on the first shirt he saw, ignoring the small stain from his lunch the previous day, and then a pair of jeans and shoes. He didn’t need to look nice. It was just one class and then he was done. He could relax. He even strangely had the next day off, so he was thrilled beyond belief.
A day off was in reach.
He could almost cry.
Almost.
He ruffled through his hair twice for good measure, before grabbing the rest of his shit and sprinting out the door.
Okay, no.
Not sprinting. He would never run across campus, but he definitely was hauling ass in a dignified speed-walk. By the time he reached the main quad area, he still had about 5 minutes until the start of his class—which was fine.
He was fine.
He was gonna make it.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket. A text from his brother.
Bother: Are you gonna actually be a student today?
Keith stopped in his tracks to respond. He hated when Shiro did that. It just pissed him off. Now he wanted to skip class (lie)…call it the overjustification effect or whatever.
He sent a not-so-kind text in response.
However, before he could even start walking again, an unfamiliar figure appeared out of nowhere. He barely had enough time to register them before he heard a quick click! of something metal locking around his wrist.
What the hell?
He looked down.
Handcuffs?
He twisted his wrist in disbelief, the cool metal grating against his skin. This guy left no wiggle-room.
“Excuse me?” Is what Keith decided to say aloud to the stranger. They just blinked back.
“What is wrong with you?” He found himself angry. So so angry because who does this? Who handcuffs themself to a stranger? Besides the inconvenience of it all…it was also dangerous. Keith could be combative for all they knew!
“That’s a loaded question,” said the idiot.
Keith scoffed.
“But it’s alright!” reassured the stranger, “we know each other, remember?” He said this as if knowing a guy would make Keith inclined to be handcuffed to them.
“Uh…” Keith tugged uselessly at the item dangling between them. He then finally looked up at the guy for real—taking in his short cropped hair, tanned skin, and hint of a smile. He recognized him, but he couldn’t place from where…it was hard to remember.
Then that random night flashed into his mind…
Grass-Guy.
He almost didn’t realize it at first because he hadn’t seen his features in broad daylight.
The guy—Lance, he remembered—was quick to reassure him again, “and it’s totally fine because it was just a little dare and I have the key!” He patted at his pant pocket…then his other pant pocket…then his back pockets—his expression quickly turning into a panicked one.
The guy cursed.
He patted at his pockets again; doin’ a funky little slap dance.
“Um.”
“‘Um’ what?” asked Keith incredulously.
“I think I lost the key.”
There’s no way.
There’s no way!
Keith didn’t have time for this!
“You’re joking.” He paled; jerking at the cufflink around his wrist. He tugged and tugged until it was almost too painful to continue.
“For once in my life I am being completely serious.”
Keith tugged again.
“Are these real?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” —as in, why on earth would he have a pair of real cuffs?
“Because they were given to me.”
Keith sighed.
Defeated.
That’s how he felt.
He couldn’t think of a way to get out of them without prospectively hurting themselves in the process. They would need to go to a fire station. He quickly thought about fire fighters seeing this situation…and then thought about what his dad would say if they showed up at his work like this. He could picture the stupid look on his face.
Maybe they could try campus security…but where even was that. He had lived on this campus for almost 4 years and had never needed a reason to visit until now…but it would be better than a fire station.
He continued to look at the handcuffs and their sturdy makeup. There’s no way they could rip them off. They seemed real. They felt real, granted, he’d never felt handcuffs until right now, but still. They felt real and heavy.
He just stared and stared.
“They’re not real,” stated Keith, trying to convince himself that there was an easy solution out of this.
"No, they are. My teammate’s dad is a cop.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was. I’m so sorry.”
Then reality truly came crashing down on him…because his brain finally supplied that ‘hey, you were running late, remember?’
“I have lecture in 5 minutes. I’m not missing.” He can’t miss, is what he wanted to say, but he didn’t feel like explaining that this was the one lecture that he would get shit for if he dipped.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Which class?” The guy seemed genuinely sorry.
“Physics.”
“Delightful…”
“Couldn’t get any more delightful than what we’ve got goin’ on right now.”
Lance gave him a look, “welp, I’ve been told I’m a pleasure to have in class, so I think you’ll survive!"
“Let’s go,” said Keith, unimpressed.
“Woah, woah, woah….right now?”
“Yes, right now. Why else did ya think I was in a hurry for?” He looked at his phone. They now had 2 minutes.
“Let’s go. We’ll head over to campus security and deal with this,” he rattled the metal cuffs between them, “after.”
Their way to the Hall of Science Buildings was an embarrassing walk. Every two seconds, the Lance Guy waved at someone he knew or shouted to someone that was far away to say hello. He swore that Lance was the type of guy that could strut sitting down. Keith got more looks and attention in those two minutes than he had ever received in the past four years on this campus combined.
When they arrived, they luckily found two seats next to one another. Keith sunk far into his seat to release his nerves. He looked to his left and saw that Lance was trying to do the same (?). He looked on edge now that they were seated in the lecture hall.
Was it because of the class?
The unfamiliar classmates?
He didn’t know…and honestly, he didn’t care enough to ask.
"You never said you had this class with Professor Shirogane!”
“I didn’t realize I had to specify who taught my lecture. Yes, he’s the professor. Is that a problem?”
“Well, no. It’s just that—he’s low-key a celebrity.”
Keith had to urge to laugh at that.
A celebrity?
Please.
“…and very kind on the eyes, if I’m being honest…”
He now had the urge to throw up.
“Just sit and be quiet. And ignore anything the professor might say to us. He’s an asshole.” Lance’s eyes widened at that.
“Speak of the devil…” mumbled Keith under his breath.
Shiro walked up, seemingly holding back laughter with his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. He was finishing up a lap around the lecture hall to pass out papers to each end of the aisles. The professor then plopped a stack of papers in front of Lance, who opted to not take one and pass them to Keith, who took a piece before passing it to the student to his right.
Shiro didn’t bother to walk away. He just stopped to assess the scene.
“New friend?”
Keith just glared at him, refusing to glance at his left. He hoped that the Lance Guy had somehow gained the superpower to disappear from existence in the last 3 minutes since they sat down. Shiro then gestured to the brunette on his left. Keith then looked over and made eye contact with the guy. Alas, he was only human and didn’t have the ability to vanish into thin air.
“No, not a friend.” He wanted to flip Shiro off and wipe that stupid smile off of his face. He didn’t…but wanted to so badly.
“Then…it seems like we have a new student amidst us! What do ya call yourself?” This earned the attention of everyone in the surrounding area. Lance was at a loss for words. Shiro then turned his attention to Keith, looking for an answer.
He just shrugged at his brother, “hell if I know.”
Which was a lie. He obviously knew the guy’s name, but Shiro was pissing him off with that stupid look on his face and the Lance Guy was also pissing him off for existing.
Overall he was just pissed off!
He wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing this guy’s name and feeding into his brother’s nosiness.
“You don’t know?” asked the guy to his left.
Keith then turned to his ‘new classmate’ and asked, “what’s your name?”
Grass-Guy blinked, “are you kidding me right now?”
Keith looked at him.
“You’re joking,” said No Name.
“Why would I be joking, now of all times?”
“I told you my name.”
“And I forgot it. So, what is it before I tell everyone it’s Larry or somethin’.”
“Oh, you so know my name.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what planted the idea that my name started with the letter L?”
“For fuck’s sake, I just said the first name that popped into my head—”
“—and you thought of Larry? Puh-lease.”
“That’s a fairly common name!”
“Where? Where on Earth is that a common name? I would loooove to go there!”
“Boys.”
They both looked up from their huddle, seemingly forgetting that they had an audience.
“Yes?” Keith said this with a little too much attitude than he would have liked (especially in front of his classmates), but his irritation had slipped out against his will. Shiro then shot him a look.
Behave, is what it said.
“I’m Lance…a new student…”
“—and in the middle of the semester, how amazing!” said the professor with a little too much feigned excitement. He then clapped, “alright, let’s begin lecture, shall we?”
He then walked over to his podium and did something on his phone. Keith immediately received a text message. He already knew what it was going to say.
Bother: Stay after class..
He rolled his eyes.
Keith: i hope you have dry mouth all lecture
The Lance guy looked over at his phone before averting his eyes with a speed close to olympians.
After lecture, Lance immediately began packing up his things and was ready to bolt. Keith tugged him down, signaling to stay put. He looked confused and, quite frankly, a little scared.
They stayed seated and waited for his classmates to file out. They watched as other students finished up their questions for the professor and quickly exited. Keith didn’t realize that there were this many students in this class.
“But, why do we have to wait?” whispered Lance.
“We just have to.”
That didn’t seem to help his nerves; his leg now shook faster than before.
“Are you in trouble or something?”
“No.”
“Did you forget to turn in an assignment?”
“No.”
“Do you have a question?”
“No. Can you just relax for a sec?” He felt his eye twitch.
“No!!”
That was when Shiro finally decided to approach the pair, adjusting the glasses atop of his head. Lance looked like he saw someone famous—having the audacity to be goddamn starstruck. He quickly adjusted his posture and was now on his best behavior, which was almost comical if he wasn’t already annoyed.
“When I told you to make friends, I didn’t mean like this,” said Shiro.
“See, I knew you were going to say some dumb shit—”
“—no seriously, Keith. You could have just asked the guy to be your friend instead of using force—”
“Shiro, I’m not in the fucking mood for this.”
“Awe, c’mon, Keith. Quit bein’ ugly. We’ve got company.” Shiro gestured toward Larry Lance, who adjusted himself in response to the added attention. Lance’s eyes were the size of saucers. Keith wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was still starstruck…? Or maybe because he was appalled at the conversation going on…? Keith didn’t know and, quite frankly, didn’t really care.
“Is it technically company if it’s unwelcome?” He crossed his one free arm over his chest, “and if anythin’, this is all his fault. I didn’t force him to do shit.”
“Woah. Keith,” scolded Lance, as if he had any authority to do so.
Shiro gave Lance a sympathetic smile, “No, no. I deserve it. I’ve been givin’ this punk a run for his money for a while now.”
‘A while’, as in his whole goddamn life!
Lance tilted his head in confusion.
“Let’s just say we’re waaay past familiars, especially since I’ve changed this guys’ diapers, believe it or not.”
“What the hell do you want, Shiro?”
“Nothin’! I was just curious about somethin’.”
“Spit it out, I have stuff I need to do.”
“Fine. Care to explain…that?”
“No. It’s none of your business.”
“Oh c’mon, Keith! Of course it’s my business. Any business is family business!”
“No it’s—I’m leaving. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Well, excuse me for wantin’ to know about my baby brother’s life. I just thought you finally made yourself a friend!” The older brother ruffled the younger brother’s hair. Keith swatted the hand away.
“Bullshit. You just wanted to be nosy.”
“No, I just wanted to properly introduce myself to the poor soul that’s stuck to ya.”
“You already introduced yourself. Can we go now?”
“Keith, c’mon.”
“…”
Lance took this as the perfect opportunity to begin being annoying as well.
“I’m Lance. I…you already know that. And I already know who you are, Professor Shirogane.”
“Just ‘Shiro’ is fine.”
Lance’s eyes widened even more—Keith didn’t know how that was anatomically possible, but it happened.
“Okay, yeah. Alright. It’s nice to meet you, Shiro.”
“Pleasure’s mine. I just wanna apologize for him in advance. He might seem like he’s angsty, and irritable, and cranky…”
Lance clung onto his words, waiting for him to finish what he was going to say.
“Well, he is. Were you expectin’ me to say somethin’ else?” Lance looked away, stifling his laughter with his sleeve.
Keith was trying (not for the first—or last—time in his life) to explode his brother with his mind.
“Fuck you.”
Shiro smiled back at him, ruffling his hair one more time before leaving. He probably had a meeting or somethin’.
“Don’t get yourselves into too much trouble, boys.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just go already, old man.”
When they walked down the steps and out of the lecture hall, the cuffs clanked and their hands painfully hit each other every so often. The metal seriously hurt as it rubbed against his skin. He ignored it as they walked toward the main quad.
"So, he’s your brother…”
“Yes.” Keith tried to avoid running into people walking on the same path.
“You don’t really look alike.”
“Never have. I look like our mom. He looks like our dad.”
“That’s still so cool that Professor Shirogane is your brother.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s my brother. He’s annoying.”
“Oh-kay. But he’s literally the coolest professor on campus!”
“According to who?”
“According to me, that’s who!”
Keith groaned. “You have any siblings?”
“Yeah, I have 4.” That seemed about right. He seemed like the kind of guy who had a big family.
“Any brothers?”
“Yeah.”
"Okay. Imagine if he switched places with Shiro and I was all heart eyes and starstruck over him."
The guy was quiet while he thought about the prospective scenario; scrunching his nose in disgust, “okay, yeah. I get it.”
“Yeah.”
They continued to walk.
“You have any other siblings besides Prof—Shiro?”
“No.”
“That seems about right.”
Keith shrugged that comment off.
“I have two brothers and two sisters. I’m actually a twin, if you can imagine that.”
“There are two of ya?”
“Yep! Double the fun.”
“Double the headache, I’d presume.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Never said I was.”
Lance laughed, “you’re actually kind of funny, you know that?”
Keith didn’t respond.
“Where are we walking anyway?”
“To campus security.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait—” said Lance.
“What?”
“Campus Security isn’t on this side of campus.”
Keith’s opposition died on his lips because…he had no idea where campus security was located…which, he probably should know, but he didn’t. He pulled up a campus map on his phone and held it up for both to see. It was conveniently located on the west-most side of campus. He continued to scroll through campus services to try to find a phone number.
He lost focus when Lance received a phone call. He answered almost immediately. From what he could hear, it sounded kinda urgent. He could hear shouting and hurried talking, but watched as the Lance Guy was unaffected by this scrambling and chaos…so it couldn’t have been that bad…
“I’m kinda…busy,” said Lance.
There was more shouting from the other side.
“Okay, but you’re going to have to convince him yourself.” Keith had a feeling that he was the him Lance was talking about.
He put the call on speaker.
"I don’t know what you’re saying, Lance, but we need you. Stat! Pidge isn’t doing jack shit.” Another voice could be heard shouting in the background.
“I’m trying my best, Hunk!”
The call ended.
Lance looked at Keith, “well, you heard the guy…”
“Yeah, I heard him, but I also heard when you said we’d go to campus security after my lecture.”
“And we will. I promise…just after we go help my friends.” Lance tugged him forward, but he stood his ground.
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no’. As in ‘absolutely not’. How could you have possibly misunderstood what I meant?”
“It was said more as a rhetorical question. For dramatic effect,” explained the brunette.
Keith stared at the stranger, incredulous.
“Please?”
He thought about it.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing, he guessed. He had nothing else to do after his lecture. Normally he would just leave, get some food, do some homework, and then go to his dorm and hibernate until the next morning. He already finished the two assignments that were due that night…so he technically didn’t have anything stopping him from extending this…forced social interaction…and, Shiro would finally get off of his back about not having a social life. It was a somewhat win-win.
Somewhat.
Okay, fine. He would go…but decided to drag out his decision for the fun of it.
“…fine”
"Wait, really?”
“Yes.” Keith got a bright smile in return; having to squint at the brightness.
“Okay, cool!” He gestured forward with his left hand with enthusiasm. Keith nodded, as if to say lead the way.
Lance guided him toward the blocks of dorm buildings that sit on the south side of campus, which happened to be the opposite side from the main classroom buildings. The campus seemed a lot bigger now that there was someone attached to Keith’s left arm and pulling him along; the Lance Guy always walking a little too fast or a little too slow to compensate, but it didn’t work. Their arms kept swaying in a clunky attempt at unison that only made the metal rub raw at both of their skin.
By the time they made it to the dorm building, they silently agreed to walk with their conjoined arms stiff at their sides to avoid any painful swinging and hitting each other. They both knew which building was his, but once they got inside, Lance carefully led Keith to his actual dorm room…of course, not without saying hello to a couple of people in passing. He waved and kept on walking. It was a little trippy because the building layout was a mirror image of his own. Like an alternate reality or somethin’.
What Keith wasn’t expecting was a billow of smoke crawling toward them when the elevator opened to Lance’s floor. How and why the smoke detector hadn’t triggered the alarm was beyond Keith. Maybe it was broken? Or maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about. Maybe the smoke, which usually signaled a fire of some sort, was the result of something else and not a life threatening emergency…
They opened the door to see two masked students, one of them assumed to be Lance’s roommate, fanning the smoke toward the window. One with a decorative pillow, the other with a school binder and notebook. Keith began to internally panic. Lance didn’t seem phased.
Not phased in the slightest. He just went into a drawer by his bed and tossed Keith a face mask. He then grabbed one of his notebooks and began to fan at the smoke cloud. He looked over at Keith and motioned for him to do the same; expecting him to help in their efforts.
You’ve got to be kidding, thought Keith, unzipping his backpack and joining the trio. He waved around two of his own notebooks and attempted to wave it in synch with is handcuff buddy.
“It’s not working, P!” yelled the taller one, fear evident in his tone.
“I’m well aware of that!” yelled the smaller one.
Lance continued to flap the notebook like a pro, strategically walking around the room to funnel out the smoke. Miraculously, it was quickly existing out of the window and leaving three adrenaline filled students and a Lance in its wake.
“It still amazes me how you do that so effortlessly.”
“I only know how to do a total of like, 5 things, and that’s one of them.”
“Wow, that many? Could’a had me fooled,” remarked Keith. He was met with a quick elbow to his side.
“Shut up.”
The smaller one smiled at his joke, interrupting their banter with an extended hand.
“I’m Pidge. The nervous guy is Hunk.” The guy waved.
“Keith. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here.”
“Smoke aside—um, care to explain,” she gestured toward the pair of handcuffs linking them together, “that.”
“It’s a long story.”
“It really isn’t, Lance,” assured Keith.
“Okay, so my teammates thought it would be fun to play some harmless pranks around campus—”
“Harmless,” said Keith under his breath.
“And yeah. Now we’re like this.”
“Wow. Okay. Um, none of your teammates thought to give you a key?” That was Hunk.
“Oh, they gave me a key…I just…might have misplaced it…”
“They don’t have a spare?”
“No.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Yeah. Very.”
“But that’s alright because I am so awesome and funny and make great company.”
That’s when Pidge turned to Keith and spoke directly to him, “I’m so sorry about Lance.”
He had to laugh, “It’s been…tolerable. I mean, I’ve endured this long, so it’s no biggie.”
“It’ll only go down hill from here. I salute you, soldier. I commend your patience.”
“Same to you. From the looks of it, you purposely spend time with him.”
“I’m known as a somewhat masochist.”
“I’m literally right here, guys.”
Keith shrugged his shoulders in synch with Pidge.
He liked this friend.
Lance directed him to sit on the bed, which forced Keith to look around the room. It was relatively put together and had a lot more things than his own. Trinkets and other little keepsakes were scattered all over the desks and dressers and a few pieces of uni merchandise laid across the back of a desk chair.
Despite all of this, it was clean…which was a surprise to him. He didn’t know why he assumed the guy was messy, but he did. He then sorted this new information into the ‘Lance-Guy’ folder in his brain. Which—the fact that he now had a ‘Lance-Guy’ folder in his brain was…alarming.
“We have some pliers. I can’t guarantee it will break them, but it doesn’t hurt to try,” said Hunk.
“Go ahead.”
He then grabbed the tool and clamped down on the metal with all of his strength.
Again.
And again.
And again.
No dice.
Keith was disappointed, but not too much so.
“Maybe we can heat them up and then try to cut them,” suggested Pidge.
“Ooo, or we can apply blunt force with—"
“—it’s okay,” said Lance, “we are planning on going to campus security after this. We figured they would have some metal cutters that won’t potentially hurt us.”
“We wouldn’t hurt you guys…”
“…on purpose. We can’t plan for accidents though.”
“Ugh, fine, but don’t say we didn’t try to help.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Thanks,” mumbled Keith to his companion. He was grateful of his insistence. He didn’t want them to end up with a total of one pair of hands between the two of them…
“So…” Lance gestured toward the charred item, “what was it this time?”
“ROVER,” said Pidge.
“Rover?” repeated Lance.
“Remotely Operated Video Enhanced Receiver. ROVER.” She motioned toward Hunk’s desk across the room. Keith followed his gaze to where the smoke had originated from; his eyes landing on some pyramid shaped tech device that looked creepily futuristic.
“Were you able to save your…ROVER mechanism thing?” asked Keith carefully.
Hunk tapped at the device. It was unresponsive.
"Unfortunately, no. It looks like this one is a scrap, too.” He placed it gently on the desk, which had various burn marks (presumably) from previous incidences.
“I’m sorry, man,” said Lance.
“It’s okay. You know what they say about failure…”
“…that it leads to innovation?”
“No—that it fucking sucks,” affirmed Hunk.
Keith liked this friend, too.
“We worked on this guy for so long and now it’s gone. I’m fucking pissed,” said Pidge.
“Well, I’m just glad that we avoided the fire alarm. The RA’s already kinda hate me from the three other times—”
As if to mock Hunk, a painfully loud alarm began blaring all throughout the hallways.
“ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING.”
“Fucking hell—what did I just say!” shouted Hunk to no one in particular.
“I REPEAT. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”
They all looked at one another.
“Well…we don’t technically have to go,” said Pidge.
“Yes we do,” said Hunk.
“Why?”
“It’s suspicious if they don’t see us—”
“—and it’s suspicious if they do!”
They both had a fair point.
“FOR EVERYONES SAFETY. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”
“We’re going.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
The four of them headed toward the stairwell.
First Hunk, then Pidge, then Lance and Keith. All quickly filing down each step in a somewhat line…a line that suddenly shot up like a spike in a pulse. Lance, who decided to not remember how stairs worked, missed a step and was thrown forward onto the safety of the hard metal floor.
And when Lance went down, so did the man he was attached to. Keith had no time to react to being tugged forward, causing him to also miss a step and come crashing down.
He let out a quick “oh fuck” while trying to catch himself; mistakingly placing his right hand down to stop himself. Instead of simply softening the blow, he ended up landing a bit funky. A clear ‘snap!’ from his wrist rang throughout the stairwell before completely crashing against the cold metal stairs.
The pain was immediate and shot up the entirety of his arm. Lance turned and looked at him.
“Oh, fuck.”
Pidge looked at him and then his arm. The color drained from her face, repeating an “oh fuck.”
“We have to get you to a doctor,” said Lance.
Someone give this boy a medal for his first award winning thought!
“Yeah, no shit,” said Pidge, saying exactly what he was thinking. She was panicking.
“FOR EVERYONES SAFETY. PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”
“Keith, are you okay?” asked Hunk, more calm than the former.
“Um, yeah. I think so?” That was when he finally decided to look down and check the damage, but then his eyes were forcibly taken away from it by Lance’s hand.
“Don’t look at it,” he ordered, “unless you want it to feel a lot worse.”
Keith didn’t look at it as instructed not to. Instead, he watched Lance carefully examine his injured arm. He gently applied pressure to certain places, probably trying to gauge Keith’s reactions to the pain. It was…a pleasant surprise with how well he was treating the injury.
He instructed Pidge to go grab a t-shirt from his closet, along with some pain meds, and a ruler…for some reason. Maybe he would measure the injury or somethin’. Who knows with this guy?
By the time she returned, the fire alarm had turned off and the pain was beginning to set in. Lance ripped off a piece from the t-shirt, grabbed the ruler, and instructed him to hold it against his skin while he wrapped the cloth around his wrist. It was real quick and gentle.
“That feel okay?”
He nodded because he didn’t trust his own voice.
It definitely lessened the pain. It wasn’t completely gone, but it was way more manageable than when it was just flopping around.
“Can you dry swallow pills?”
He nodded.
“Good. Take these.”
He did.
"Okay. Now, let’s get you out of here. Can you get up?”
Keith nodded. Lance then motioned for him to stand.
“Okay, good.” He then gave Keith a reassuring smile, who just nodded helplessly (for the millionth time) before following his lead.
Maybe this guy wasn't half bad, thought Keith.
Maybe.