Work Text:
It is 2:30 in the morning, living room lights turned out like a gust of wind against a candle. Keith considers the can of beer in his hands. Room temperature, warm. To throw it away would be a waste, but the taste isn't quite the same. He'll put in the fridge, maybe. Even if it means it'll be gone when he wakes up, thrown away by an ever persistent sparky little thing.
Keith leans forward to place it on the coffee table. Problem for later. A later when he assumes sleep will be quicker to visit than not. The current status quo.
He doesn't know either of the rookies to snore, but if he strains his ears, he can hear a little bit coming from their room. It has to be Junior, Keith assumes.
Dino's not home tonight. Said he wanted to do some late night sparring with Asch and Oscar and this was the only time they could coordinate together. A little too late, or rather early, in Keith's taste. The recent LOM seemed to be keeping everyone busy.
It is evidenced by the fact that even Faith is in his room right now, out cold against his cool pillow and warm sheets, rather than burning through the club. Perhaps Keith is just a little envious of the fact; slumber has evaded him since nightfall and he has an early morning.
Enough time has passed that his vision doesn't struggle against the dark. His eyes trace over the living room, taking in every little detail. Every mess a sign of a home lived in. The stack of games left out with the unfulfilled promise to ever be put away. The perpetually unfinished game of chess because whenever Junior lost, he'd insist on another match immediately, only for them to have to go out for an emergency patrol.
There are fewer alcohol bottles now. Keith purses his lips. That's something he'll think on later, when he's in bed inevitably still unable to sleep.
Keith glances at his phone for the time, hisses when the brightness is more than he expects. 2:57. Still no Dino.
The corners of his lips dip into a thoughtful frown. No messages from Dino even though he usually leaves updates upon updates that Keith never askes for.
Ever the worrier, Keith thinks to when Dino had slipped out of their fingers the second time, summoned by a call he couldn't refuse even when he wanted to.
He dials Dino without thinking. 1 ring, then 2, then 7, then 13. The silence on Keith's side is pressing down against his chest, a vacuum stealing his breathe as though his lungs were a plastic package. "Hi, it's Dino!"
Keith grips the phone tighter. It's cold metal digs into his fingers.
"Can't come to the phone right now so leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
And for a moment, the world goes dark again and Keith's heart both stops and starts too fast at the same time. The tone clicks, awaiting whatever flimsy farewell Keith has to say with no one on the other end to listen.
But how do you say goodbye a third time when the first alone had slaughtered you whole.
Keith shakes his head, as though physically ridding himself of the horrible thoughts keeping him anchored under water. Oscar, Asch. They should be with him right? Maybe Dino just forgot to charge his phone.
Oscar picks up after the 7th ring. Keith's biting the nail of his thumb, leg bouncing so hard he may as well have drilled a hole through the floor.
"Hello?" Oscar sounds confused, groggy. As though he'd just woken up. As though he hadn't been out with Dino and Asch.
Keith feels his blood turn to ice.
At the silence, Oscar's voice turns from questioning to concerned. "Keith-san? Is everything alright?" There is rustling in the background. A slightly more muffled call for Oscar's name. Brad.
An infinite rush of "don't panic"s cloud Keith's mind as he tries to work his vocal cords, to defrost them and thaw them enough to speak.
"Did you see Dino tonight?"
Brad's voice on the other end is louder now. "What's going on, Keith?" Oscar must have put him on speaker. Of course. He doesn't quite do anything without conferring with Brad first. Keith bites down on his lips, refuses to let out the hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat.
Keith's still figuring out how to answer, when the door to the West dorms opens with a quiet clack.
Dino.
Keith stares. Swallows. Whispers a quiet, "nothing." Hangs up. He feels entranced.
Dino closes the door behind himself, eyes tired and hands fidgety. Unsure. "Hi, Keith." Even after all this time, it feels wrong to hear Dino's voice as anything but bright and radiant. Illuminatory.
He sounds like he's barely keeping it together, voice high, tight, uneven.
"Hey."
There's hundreds upon thousands of things Keith wants to say, to do. He wants to yell at Dino for clearly having lied to him. To pull him into a bone crushing hug anyway because he could never stay mad at him. Instead, Keith stays perched at the edge of the living room couch, mouth slightly opened as he simply watched Dino.
Dino doesn't meet his eyes, kicking his shoes off to make a beeline for the couch.
When he sits, there is an ever so barely existing distance between them. Keith can feel the warmth at sides of his arm, his hips, down his legs. He reaches over and pulls Dino by the shoulders to lean against him. Ever an enthusiast for physical affection, Dino doesn't resist, even if Keith feels the momentary, minute hesitation. Still, Dino is always the one to offer. Even if he were to deny out of courtesy, Keith would be insistent. He too deserves to be loved upon in the same way he always reassures others.
Besides, Keith cannot pretend this is all for Dino's sake. The rise and fall of a chest beside his is comforting. Familiar. A promise that even if things aren't the same as before, they're both alive, here. He rubs his hand over the exposed part of Dino's arm, uncovered by his jacket. He's cold, little bumps raised against his skin.
"Were you outside?"
"Just the roof."
"Alone?"
"Yeah."
"Don't feel like talking?"
"Not really."
"That's okay. May I?" A nod against his shoulder.
Keith settles further against the couch, leans against the arm rest. The leather protests only momentarily, adjusting to accept Keith.
"Y'know," Keith muses, rubbing his free hand over his face. "If you wanted to be alone, I could have left our room to you? Or if you wanted to hang around here, the kids went to sleep early. I could have too." Even if Keith would have just laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He still felt no sleepier.
Dino shrugs, turns his face further into Keith's shoulder. A childish action. One Keith recognises instantly from when they were rookies. Jay had always had very different ways to console the three of them after critisisms and reprimanding.
"I'm not mad. I was just worried. I'd called Oscar, y'know? Feel kinda bad for waking him up for nothing."
When Dino shrinks further, Keith ruffles his hair. "Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" An attempt at humor is a good sign. Keith smiles a little.
"Is it working?"
Dino smacks his arm lightly and Keith laughs for real at that.
The silence that stretches on is light as blown sugar candy. Keith dares to breathe against it, testing it just enough to keep it from breaking.
When he cranes his neck to look at his phone now on the coffee table, it reads 3:09. How odd. The fear from earlier had melted so thoroughly, it had to have been absorbed by the clouds for another three cycles of rain at this point. A whole lifetime had passed since 3 AM.
In the end, it's Dino that speaks first. He sits up, shifting in his seat to try to face Keith as best as he can without meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just. Everything felt messy in my head."
Keith's quiet, eyes lingering on the beer can still on the table. He'll throw it out himself later.
"It's been good most days since I've been back. Like nothing changed. Just some days. I feel like. I don't know. Everything moved on and I don't know how to find myself here again. Like I never left Ec-" The word fizzles out. Dino draws in a shuddering breathe. "I promise everything's fine. I just needed a moment. Didn't want to bother you."
And again, there is hundreds upon thousands of things Keith wants to say. But they will never leave Keith to see the light of day because that's just how this friendship works. Dino's Dino. Keith's Keith. And Keith has never been one to be overtly affectionate in either his words or actions. He leaves his endearments on a plate at people's doorsteps, ready to be taken or discarded as necessary. He cooks meals and he teases and he is the solid body that is there to listen should words need somewhere to be absorbed. Occassionally he offers advice.
"Didn't wanna bother me, huh…" Keith muses. Little does Dino know that Keith had gotten so used to his little inconveniences, they'd become permanent fixtures in his life, routines as defined as every next breath. For it to disappear out of the blue felt like dropping off nicotine cold turkey, withdrawal hitting instantly.
Keith breathes out a humorless laugh, for both of them. After all, Dino has no idea.
Unlike the backup packs of cigs he keeps at the bottom of his messy shirts drawer, there was no replacement Dino for if he chickened out, if the symptoms all hit too fast.
"You have bothered me me for like. Nine years prior without ever thinking 'bout it." Keith poked Dino's cheek. "Shouldn't you like. Cash in? On the time you weren't here?"
Dino looks a little like a dear in headlights. Even in the dark, Keith can see him trying to piece together what Keith was trying to say. He tilted his head, eyebrows just the slightest bit confused. Keith can't see past the 15 year old Dino he'd known once upon a time.
There isn't a huge gap in how Dino looks now compared to right before he left. But age brings changes all the same. The thought tastes bittersweet on his tongue, goes down his throat slowly with great discomfort.
Would Dino have pulled Keith into a hug if this was Before? Would the words have made sense faster then? He still looks lost and Keith feels uncomfortable.
"What I'm saying is," despite himself, his voice is quieter. He hates being sappy. It feels sugar crumbs on his skin and nausea under his skin. Still, he wants Dino to hear this from him as forwardly as he can manage. "I want you to inconvenience me. Isn't that what friends do?"
Dino stares. Gapes and gawks even, if Keith had to be a little more descriptive about it. He barely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, embarassment burning the back of his neck red hot.
Perhaps there had been an attempt at giving Keith some grace, if the fake cough was anything to go by. It quickly divulges into giggles though; not particularly easy confirmation. Despite the burning at the back of his neck, and the faux annoyance Keith uses to roll his eyes, he welcomes the sound all the same.
"You're laughing. I'm trying to make you feel better and you're laughing." Keith's voice is deadplan, as level as a flatline.
Dino laughs a little harder at that, and while he's distracted, Keith cracks another smile, the most full one this evening. Dino had always been good at bringing those out of him against his will.
Eventually things quiet down again. Dino looks pensive, considering Keith's words. "Okay," he says.
"Good."
Keith reaches over for the TV remote and lowers the volume before flipping through the channels and finding what he's looking for. Teleshopping channels.
"You remember the channel numbers?"
"You got me too used to watching these." Keith shrugged. He doesn't mention the days upon days he'd stare at his own television with bloodshot eyes thinking of Dino's joy at good deals and — in Keith's opinion — unnecessary spending.
Dino's throat wobbles dangerously as he presses his lips shut tighter and swallows. His eyes are misty, something flickering through them that Keith doesn't have the heart to look deeper into.
"Now shut up and enjoy the wonderful world of…" Keith glances at the TV, "ginsu knives." He whistles. "Wow, that set's 75 bucks. I'd pay a good 200 for something like that." He keeps up his unnecessary, clearly useless commentary even as it dries out his throat. Still, Dino was always a fan of chatter as white noise, and that doesn't seem to have changed.
Eventually, Dino unceremoniously lifts Keith's arm to settle himself against his side. And promptly falls asleep. Keith feels it before he sees it, the shift in his breathing, the heavier slump. He leans his cheek against his free hand and pets Dino's hair with the other. It's a little rougher than the ultra soft and fluffy it had once been. It's fine. Tomorrow, Keith will tell Dino that Faith's shampoo does wonders for even Keith's unruly texture, no don't worry about telling Faith, keep it hush hush.
When Keith glances at his phone, it's 3:19. Given the current predicament of being stuck between a sofa and a Dino, he can only accept that tonight would be a sleepless one for him. He resigns himself to his fate and the horrible mess of a day tomorrow will be. Despite the wakefullness, there is a serenity the last three years had sorely missed out on.
The doorhandle jingles about two minutes in, breaking Keith out of a mindless doze. He carefully shimmies out from under Dino's weight, careful to make sure the man doesn't wake.
At the door, it's none other than Brad Beams, a shawl over his sleep clothes. One might think he looks calm at first glance, his breathing level and eyes steady. But his hair istousled despite his best attempt at keeping it flat. He's wearing two left shoes, one that looks like it doesn't quite fit. Must be Will's based on style alone. His glasses are just slightly askew with no time to throw in his contact lenses.
Keith blames Dino for his disinterest in personal space as he reaches over to fix Brad's glasses. Brad frowns at that and before he can say anything, Keith cracks open the door to the West dorms, allows Brad to peek in just enough to see Dino's sleeping silhouette.
Brad lets out a sigh. "Everything alright?"
"Everything alright." Keith confirms. "You should go to sleep. I'm assuming you have to wake up in a bit, hey?"
Brad gives Keith a nod in acknowledgement. "Then I'll leave him in your care. Goodnight Keith."
"Goodnight Brad."
When the door clicks shut, the slight murmur of the television still too bright for the dark living room keeps Keith company. It shines upon Dino's restful face. Keith softens for a moment before he turns off the television altogether. There are throw blankets they keep in their extra storage closet and Keith grabs one, considers twice and pulls out another.
He tosses one over Dino, asleep with his head against the armrest and his legs still on the floor. Keith lops a cushion against his hip and lays down, head against the pillow. His legs are dangling off the edge of couch too. Good. Tomorrow, they'll wake up with matching back and neck pain and if Dino's feeling sore too, perhaps the kids will be less harsh on Keith.
And that's how the night ends at 3:47 after hours at the living room couch. There is a half finished can of stale beer on a coffee table that will be thrown out in the morning next to a TV remote. There is an unfinished chess game. And most importantly, there are signs of love and life and a life well loved.