He sketched out another circle, lopsided. Erase. Start again.

This is how it's been going for the past half hour. Everything he draws seems to provoke Keith more than everything around him already is. He can't concentrate, the logo doesn't look right, nothing's going according to plan. All that seems to register in his mind fully is the internal, conflicting banter between the two halves of his conscience. 

Lotor, 

Lance, 

Lotor.

Lance. 

He didn't ask for this. He didn't ask for any of this. These feelings, these thoughts. God it was torture. Like each utterance of either of their names lacerated his chest in several miscalculated sections. Ripping off chunks and leaving him to bleed. Bleed not die. 

And that was torture. 

Keith already felt extremely tense, practically ready to jump up and swing at the next person to approach him. Lotor's warning from earlier in the day was the main driving force fueling his paranoia and anxiety. His pencil strokes got thicker, graphite showing up more pigmented than before and all Keith's emotions channeled through the pressure applied to the pencil. Unbeknownst to him, the pencil wasn't able to carry the weight of his shaking hand, and the tip crumbled.

He threw the pencil in frustration upon realizing this, not giving it the attention it craved as it bounced across the table and rolled into the seat adjacent from the fuming teen. He racked his fingers through his midnight locks, choking each strand from the base of his scalp. Keith's hands still shook with each breath he attempted to take as a means to calm down. 

It's so fucking hard to calm down. The shaking only does more to antagonize him. Everything around him seems vexing. Every cup clink, each conceded laugh from customers who just don't fucking understand, the coffee being placed in front of his face.

Wait... coffee? Allura... 

He throws his head between crossed arms, a sturdy bang still emanating from where his head impacted the wooden table. He's going to have to apologize, he's been slacking. Any normal person would have had this logo done by now! Out of everyone, why would she pick him?

"Ugh! I can't do it! I just can't! I'm sorry Allura but I can't concentrate! With Lotor and everything else on my mind I just...!I know I shouldn't be making excuses. I just... I'm sorry..." All his words were muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt, but Lance got the gist. 

"Woah! What's a Lotor?" He questioned, still wondering what Keith was talking about. Keith raised his head quickly, panic setting in, and a slight hint of hope. Maybe a little relief seeing as Lance was the one standing there, a small guilty smile plaguing his cider stained face. 

"Aaand... you're not Allura." Keith groaned, now wishing he never said anything to begin with. Lance gave a light chuckle and placed a napkin down next to Keith's cup.

"Last time I checked. I might be wrong though." Lance hesitates before making his way to chair across from Keith. He slowly takes a seat, jumping up slightly before fishing the pencil out from under him. He scoots the chair in, trying to make his body language seem less tense than it's probably coming off as.

"Well, you gonna try it?" Using the pencil as a means to point in the direction of Keith's cup. Keith hesitates, still nervous about drinking whatever's in the cup with Lance adamantly watching him. He's always hated the thought of coming off as a glutton to anyone and everyone, Lance included. He just doesn't want to ruin any opinions Lance has on him, if they aren't all bad already. 

Lance notices Keith's unease after a few moments and tries to find the right words to coax a more relaxed side of Keith to step out and calm down. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned or anything, at least I don't think it is. Allura's the one that made it so..." He rubs the back of his neck apprehensively, scared about all that's coming in the talk they're about to have. No he's fucking terrified. 

He's not ready for the screaming match that's bound to ensue, and he'd rather hop on a train and leave this city than tell Keith why he can't be around him. Keith, on the other hand, feels a pang in his chest upon hearing that Allura made the drink and, no doubt, forced Lance to come and talk to him.

The idea that Lance didn't come over by his own free will makes Keith want to curl up and bang his head on the table until it bleeds. Maybe Lance doesn't want to be here, maybe he still doesn't want to be around me!

Despite the toxicity of the freight train of thoughts hurling through his mind, he takes a small sip of the miscellaneous liquid, occupying the same white mug as last time. The liquor is prominent in the smooth coffee, hitting the back of his throat with such surprise that he almost chokes from the intensity.

Allura, you sly little fucker. Irish coffee... damn. He hasn't had this since Lotor dumped him. Except she must have substituted the Irish cream liqueur with something else. Keith can still taste the whiskey, however, and her comforting drinks usually include whipped cream, which isn't enough to make him sick from his lactose allergy. He's always looking forward to when Allura tries to make him feel better. 

Irish coffee is a cup of brewed black coffee, jigger Irish whiskey, jigger Irish cream liqueur (which she's probably substituted with something more kid friendly), and whipped cream. Allura usually throws atop a few pinches of nutmeg and cinnamon, which is always appreciated. Keith never turns down liquor, especially if it's 'feel better' alcohol from Allura. 

He practically moans upon taking in another swig of the sweet liquid, making him slowly start easing up. Lance notices the shift in Keith's usual guarded persona, taking that as a good sign that the coffee is making him feel better. 

"Good?" Lance questions, a small smile adorning his face while watching how adorable Keith can be sipping anything with whipped cream.

"You have no fucking clue." Keith retorts, taking another sizable gulp of the spiked drink. He puts the cup down, realizing that it might not be a good idea to be buzzed around Lance if they're about to talk about something serious, or talk in general. Being tipsy around him didn't work out so well for Keith the last time. 

His tongue pokes out from the confines of his mouth, grazing over the top of his lip to wipe off the excess froth. Lance passes over Keith's pencil after fidgeting with it for a little bit, Keith taking it with a light blush. 

Lance's smile pierces the space between the two, and Keith's cheeks tint darker then humanly possible. "It's nice to see you." He mutters, seemingly mesmerized by Keith's small movements and his display of internal gay panic. 

"Yeah," Keith replies breathily and dazed, but snaps out of it and throws his napkin at Lance. "Wait no! I should be mad at you." Keith bites, his features betraying him and showing signs of confusion rather than this supposed anger emanating from his very soul. 

"Should be?" His question reeks with hopeful curiosity, hoping the damage he's done isn't as bad as he's imagined it's gotten. 

"I mean... I am mad at you?" Keith's voice wavers as he tries to convince himself of it. He was so sure. He was annoyed that Lance was ignoring him but... it's probably unlikely that the strong feeling Keith's felt over the past five days is anger. Maybe fear, guilt, anxiety. 

There are so many words he could use to describe how he's been feeling, but none of those words fall anywhere near anger.

"Uhh... ok then." Lance mumbles, his initial hope extinguished. It grows quiet between them. Only the homey noises of cafe life help to keep the moment from fading into a completely awkward mess.

Lance is the first to break the barrier, rationalizing that there's no point in dancing around the issue. 

"Look Keith. I should apologize." Keith perks up a bit to listen to what Lance has to say, so many things running through his mind. What is it an apology for? Shouldn't he be the one apologizing? He obviously provoked Lance in some way, maybe Lance is still loathing the kiss they shared?

There are so many things that this apology could stand for, good and bad alike. 

"I've been a dick lately. I just didn't want to make things awkward between us and with the kiss and all... god. I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry about that, I-" So it is about the kiss. Keith puts the crippled pencil between the disappointing excuses for art in his sketch pad, looking for something, anything, to occupy his hands and prevent the tremor that plagued them earlier. 

The guilt is eating him alive! That can't be the only reason Lance was... is mad at him. 

"Lance... What did I do?" 

"What?" It comes out as somewhat of a choked whisper. Lance is surprised by the sudden interruption, the outburst was surprising in itself but the jumble of words that left Keith's mouth have already begun hollowing a section of Lance's heart. A part if him is hoping Keith isn't blaming himself for Lance's own stupid actions. 

"What did I do wrong? Why don't you want to even look at me anymore? What can I change to make you hate me less!" The vulnerability is diffusing off of Keith in guilt revoking waves. God dammit, he has been blaming himself. If Lance didn't know any better he wouldn't be able to pick up on the emotional torment Keith's probably been putting himself through all because of him!

Jesus christ, how much more of a fuck up could he possibly be? Maybe his father was right, maybe he's only here to hurt people... 

"Hate you? Keith... I don't hate you! I..." He tries to explain but his voice breaks off in several different spot. The feelings were so sudden that he didn't have time to mentally prepare himself for this conversation. Stupid!

"Can we do this somewhere else?" He looks all around him suddenly feeling very paranoid, and having a conversation this important and emotionally susceptible is essential for the both of them in private, especially if it's bound to end in tears. 

Keith hesitantly nods, wondering what's suddenly got Lance on edge. Hopefully, Keith didn't do something too serious to hurt Lance because it's very rare to see him in a state this frantic. He's feeling jittery just watching the Cuban male twiddle something beneath his t-shirt and jacket. Lance looks around and ushers Keith to pack up his things and follow him to the back room. 

Lance is practically half-way through the thick, wooden door before Keith even starts packing his things away and tripping just to catch up. Despite Lance coming and starting this talk with him, a little part of Keith is terrified that if he loses sight of Lance he's never going to see him again.

Obviously that's not the case. Keith has way too much trust in Lance already to be worrying about things like that, but after all these years of surviving Keith's learned, if not anything, that anything can happen and looks tend to be deceiving. 

Lance makes it into the backroom before Keith, trying to collect himself before facing whatever this is. He takes a seat across from the empty chair soon to be inhabited by Keith, noticing quickly that there's a cup reading his name. He smiles, figuring Allura left it and takes a sip.

Lemongrass, mint and honey. White tea. 

Allura sure knows him. It's nice to know someone cares; that he could potentially consider her a friend after all this time working together. They unintentionally look out for one another and even though he had the smallest crush on her when they first met, they both knew it wasn't going to go anywhere. 

Keith comes through the door several seconds later, disheveled from throwing his things in his bag and rushing to meet Lance. He takes a seat nervously, wanting nothing more than to bolt through the tempting back door, but he deserves to give Lance an explanation... in a way, and he hopes Lance will tell him what he needs to apologize about. 

Lance takes a deep breath before staring down at his hands, fingers wrapped around the to-go cup.

"It's just... no one knows I'm bi. Except a select few people. I just don't want certain people to find out. The backlash would be brutal... for the both of us." He adds in that last part to further justify his next set of choice sentences, sentences he'd rather wish he could just throw away. The grip he has around his cup trembles and grows tighter with every passing second of silence. 

That's obviously not the whole reason he's been avoiding any communication with Keith, but it's undeniably relevant as to why. Keith scoots his chair in, crossing his legs over each other. His expression is tense, eyebrows knit as he thinks. The foot making contact to the floor beneath him bouncing as he tries to find a steady rhythm to glue his words together. 

Eventually Keith finds it in himself to look up at Lance. He flicks his eyes to Lance's hands, wishing he could hold them as a sign of comfort, but right now both of their actions are too unpredictable and Keith'd rather be safe than sorry. 

He pulls back his hand, closing the fingers to avoid the temptation before speaking. 

"Lance, if being attracted to males and females is how you feel then it shouldn't matter what other people think." Keith sighs, aggravated with the pace of this conversation, aggravated in himself for letting their friendship fall apart like this on his watch. "I don't even see what this has to do with anything! What does this have to do with ignoring me?!" If Lance wasn't tense originally, then Keith's raised voice blew him so far off the edge he didn't even know he was standing, or that he had just slammed his fists onto the table. 

He's never been this aggressive before, even in their previous arguments. It makes Keith a little happy that he dodged that bullet by pulling his hand away, but he still wonders if Lance would be more calm if he'd just bitten the bullet and comforted the boy. 

"Keith! I can't be with you! I can't kiss you or hold your hand or do anything with you! I can't be around you! Do you hear me?" Lance is frustrated, frustrated in himself. He would like nothing more than to do all of that and more with Keith, but he can't. It's not safe, and his priority is to keep the only person he's met worth protecting, safe. 

"Why? Am I really that much of a burden? Can't we at least be friends?" The desperation drips from each word Keith throws at Lance. It's just making Lance having to do this, even more painful.

"N... no." He stumbles. His once livid stance crumbling as he slumps in his hickory stained chair. He doesn't want this. Keith doesn't want this. Keith's already scratching harshly at the fabric atop his wrists, he's  getting urges, he's getting anxious. Hell, I'm gettin anxious!

"Why not? Are you too afraid to look gay that you won't even hang out with me anymore? Does your plastic popularity mean that much? You think people will get the wrong impression if you're friends the gay kid in school? The loner? The 'psychotic nutcase'?" It finally hits Lance how much what he said in the car must've really slapped Keith in the soul. He didn't deserve any of that. God dammit. Lance really has hurt Keith more by being around him than he thought. 

He never wanted any of this to happen. He never wanted to say those things. He wasn't meant to say those things, especially not to Keith's face. He's never thought about Keith like that or seen him that way at all. Why the hell would his drunken mind dis him like that?

"No!... yes?" 

"Save it Lance. If I'm such a liability then why did you come talk to me in the first place? To chip away at whatever's left of me? What did I do? Why are you doing this?" Keith's walls begin to tumble to the ground. He's hugging himself to salvage anything that's still standing and keep those useless bricks in place, but they're all tumbling, and no amount of glue is going to stick them back together. No amount of manpower is going to stack those walls back up. 

"I'm trying to protect you!" Lance launches from his seat again, the chair landing with a booming crack. His arms are supporting him as he leans over the table, trying his hardest to keep himself composed. 

Keith only flinches at first before he musters up the courage to stand against Lance and look him in the eyes, adamant about proving to Lance that he's not just going to lie down and let him walk out of his life that easily.

"From what!?" Keith retorts, disbelieving in the bullshit dripping from Lance's mouth. 

"I... I can't tell you." Lance's strong façade melts under Keith's gaze, but Keith doesn't back down.

"You can't fucking tell me?" He throws up his hands, exasperated. Lance is done. This hurts too much. Just like a bandaid. Rip it off like a fucking bandaid and it won't sting as bad. 

"I ju... I just can't talk to you anymore, okay?" Despite how much Lance prayed to every god that his voice would boom with finality, it just escaped his lips in the form of a defeated whimper. 

"No! Not okay!" Keith remarks with frustrated sass. This can't be happening, Lance seriously can't be telling him that he's leaving without a reason! He can't just do that!

"Look, we can't be friends. We definitely can't be more than friends. You'd be better off not being around me anyways." His rationality is eating him from the inside out, replacing each empty space with desperation. Any little piece of information he can muster that won't make Keith worried or get involved, but will get him as far away from Lance as humanly possible. 

For his own fucking protection. 

"That's not your decision to make!" He yells. Keith is exasperated. His patience has fully ripped and climbed their way through his seams, now fully presenting themselves as a shadow behind him. A shadow, towering over him and looking directly at Lance with a seething range of emotions he'd rather not have to reveal. 

It's taking so much of his self control not to unleash the Kraken on Lance right now. 

"Keith..." The last of Lance's resolve tears away from his lips with the utterance of Keith's name. He can see a part of Keith's violet orbs shake, his brows dipping down in a painful frown for only a split second before covering it up. 

"No! I don't need your protection! I never asked for it! So if being an asshole and tearing me apart is your way of protecting me then I don't want any of your shit!" At this point the two of them have stepped away from the table, both portraying two completely different emotions yet feeling the same exact ones internally. 

"This is just as hard for me Keith! I don't want to do this-" Lance gets cut off by the devastation and desperation duo now presented as Keith's voice. "Then don't!" It rips through Lance like a tidal wave infested with eels. He wishes the shocks were powerful enough to make this nightmare of a life disappear, and leave him with only dreams. Dreams of happiness, dreams with Keith. "-but I can't just fucking stand by and watch you get hurt!!" And that's exactly why all we can ever be is a dream. They can only be together in each other's dreams. Besides, Keith deserves so much more than a broken fuck up for a boyfriend. 

"Who's going to hurt me Lance?!" Keith finally lets go, all his rage and anger and frustration melt and pooling at his feet in the form of fat sloppy tears. A broken sob rips through the air, scratching at Lance's chest with the force of a serial killer's knife. He's too stunned to say anything, to move in the moment. He just wants to fucking do something, but everything he seems to say just makes everything worse. 

Keith is beautiful when he cries though. I guess, the people with the worst stories tend to be the prettiest cryers, because after a while they can really only be themselves behind a curtain of sorrowful tears. 

"Right now... you're the one hurting me." And that hurt. That stabbed Lance through the chest and ripped out his heart, still pumping, still beating. It was like the bullet of a gun was shot at close range, ricocheting off his bones, puncturing each and every organ till he eventually bled out. 

He wants nothing more than to comfort Keith, kiss his tears away, tell him that he will always be there, always protect him. Unfortunately, only one of those things are true. 

"The kiss was spur of the moment. Forget it happened. Forget we happened because we can't happen." Lance's voice is stone cold as he tried addressing most of their main 'issues'. Lance moves towards the exit, passing Keith in the process but he doesn't get too far before Keith's pale fingers are wrapping around Lance's wrist weakly to get him to stop. 

Keith pulls Lance to the ground. He's surprised by the sudden strength, Keith is too but he tries his best not to show it. He grabs Lance's shoulders and pulls him so he's sitting across from him. Their eyes are so close, close enough so that Keith could convince Lance's brain that what he was saying was bullshit and the Lance he knows wouldn't try walking away without a solid reason.

That goes to say, he could be wrong. This is only a fact based upon the Lance he's been introduced to.

"Are you serious right now? You don't just get to walk away! YOU. FUCKING. KISSED. ME." Hot streams of salt water slid down his cheeks, Keith slammed the palm of his hands in his eyes to stop the flow but it didn't do much. He didn't expect what Lance was about to say, but he still looked up at him. Hopeful.

"Yeah, I did. We can't change that now!" A flash of pain struck through Keith's eyes, and that's when Lance knew... he fucked up. 

"I DON'T WANT TO CHANGE IT!" Keith screamed, his nails digging into Lance's shoulders but despite the pain, Lance knew he deserved this. This was the only comfort he could really give Keith right now without messing this up even more. Keith wasn't done speaking, however. His voice was softer, almost like the ghost of a choked up whisper. "I... I fucking liked it, you idiot, but apparently you didn't. You didn't have to do that for pity on the gay kid. Or were you just trying to stimulate me because I'm a fucking, what did you call me? Whore?" The word rolled off his tongue like acid, and when that acid hit Lance's ears, it burned. God fucking dammit. He did call Keith a whore, didn't he. What else did he say?  

"I'm sorry I said those things! I was drunk Keith. I didn't know what I was doing or saying-" But Keith's tone cut him off. A dead tone. His voice was dead. Dead, but maggots made up of devastating acceptance wriggled between the words he spoke. It made Lance squirm, wanting to get up and leave before he broke this broken boy in front of him to the point of no repair. 

"If you tell me right now... that the kiss meant nothing... that I mean nothing to you... then I will never bother you again. I'll never talk to you, look at you. I'll even stop coming to this shop." Lance couldn't believe his ears. What Keith was preposing would solve all the problems! He could protect him, Keith wouldn't ever get hurt by him again! But at what price?

"Keith!" He couldn't really be thinking about this, could he? Keith loves this shop. Lance can see it in his eyes when he writes or draws, when he drinks his drinks and whipped cream playfully taunts him above and on his lips. When he just sits and looks out the windows, observing, thinking, wondering and dreaming. 

He can't give this up! This place makes him so happy. He'd be giving up Allura, he'd be giving up his safe haven, but he'd also be giving up me. That's what Lance wanted right? So why is it so hard giving him up now! It would be protection at the expense of destruction. Is that really worth the risk? Especially if I have to lie to his face?

"Lance... tell me the truth!" Keith's voices wavers. He doesn't want to hear it. He already has a clue as to what Lance is going to say. He just needs the validation, he needs to hear Lance say it before he truly leaves. 

"I... It..." Keith listens intently, waiting despite how drained he might appear. He's fixated on any sound that leaves the Cuban's mouth, hoping it contradicts what he asked. Every part of Keith is silently hoping that Lance won't actually say that their time together meant nothing. 

"It meant... something." Lance says, defeated. He can't do it. He can't push Keith that far off the edge. It was never his intention to shatter the poor boy, just keep him safe. 

"Something?" He's hopeful. For the first time during this conversation, he's hopeful that Lance is actually going to stay. That he won't just walk away and leave him there. 

"Keith or course it fucking meant something! You worth everything to me! That's why I'm trying to cut off ties now so it won't hurt more later." At this point, the truth is the only thing that's really going to help. It might sting but at least it won't hurt as much as keeping the line of lies from snapping. Lance will admit that Keith's persistence is tiresome but it's just another thing he admires about the boy. 

"Then why are you doing this to me?! Stop looking at me like I'm some charity case! I'm fucking suicidal... big whoop. You don't need to spare my feelings and I don't need your pity. I asked for the truth." Keith's filter is out of the fucking window by now. As for Lance, he's taking a trip down depression lane, thinking about when he found Keith and how he acted after Lance stopped him from dying. That was terrifying. To think, Keith might not even be alive right now...

He could be dead and if Lance wasn't there he would be. Then again if Lance wasn't there then Keith wouldn't have ran out of the shop and jumped off the bridge to begin with. After everything that has happened between the two of them. Maybe... it'd be better to stay around Keith. 

Maybe the secret can be kept. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But, then again, maybe not.

"I did tell you the truth! I wanted to kiss you so I did! My life is just too complicated... I know you don't care if you get hurt but I do. If you got injured... because of me... I don't know what I'd do with myself." The least Lance can do is make sure Keith knows that their time together actually meant something, and that it wasn't just some fling to pass time. That kiss was incredible. If Lance could go back to any moment in time, he'd go there and stop himself from pushing Keith away. 

But... He was just trying to protect Keith... right?

"What's so fucking complicated! Tell me Lance. Just fucking talk to me, please." Keith pleads, every fiber if his being falling into a state of exhaustion. 

"What do you think we're doing?!" Lance yells, exasperated. Keith counters quickly, however. 

"This isn't talking!" He takes a deep breath, trying to re-establish his thoughts. Lance does the same. Keith doesn't want to yell, it's just the way he defends himself. He also doesn't want to cry in front of Lance despite the amount of times he has already. He doesn't think it's weak, per say, but he'd rather Lance not think of him as a person who cries when they don't get their way like he oh-so kindly pointed out during their fight in the car. 

The silence isn't comforting, but it isn't as poisonous as it was two minutes ago. 

"Just talk to me." Keith whispers, desperately. 

"...About?" Lance tries to play dumb, hoping that by some miracle Keith won't notice and will just drop it. Unfortunately, fate's been cruel to him lately. 

"Anything! Give me explanations! Give me answers! Please!" Keith curls his hands into fists, fingers catching fabric and pulling Lance's shirt closer to himself. Shaking palms engulfed in white fabric, how ironic. 

"I don't need to explain myself to you." He bites bitterly. Like 'suck on a lemon and spit out the juice' bitter.

"You better fucking believe you have things to explain to me." Eye contact is initiated instantly, neither teen aware of who started it. The staring contest is tense but it was blatantly obvious that Keith was going to win by a landslide. Lance sighs, accepting defeat and coming to terms with the fact that Keith has the right to ask questions.

If he didn't, then Lance would've just dove off the face of the earth without a trace. 

"What do you want to know." Keith is stunned for a second, thinking he was going to have to convince Lance more before he cracked. He's not complaining, he'll take anything given to him but it's still shocking. So shocking his hands loosen and Lance's shirt slips through the gaps between each fingers. 

"Well?" Lance questions impatiently. He's willing to comply with the demand for information, but it's hard enough for him to try and survive an exchange this emotionally extreme with Keith, let alone have to wait in anticipation for what he's supposed to answer. 

"U... umm, why have you been avoiding me?" That's a plausible first question. Anyone should've seen that coming. Lance starts playing with the ring through the fabric of his shirt, already dreading the questions to come. 

"I already told you." He avoids eye contact, but Keith isn't having any of it. He's done letting Lance dance around questions and answer him in nonsensical riddles. 

"Well tell me again!" It's sassy but Keith is done being nice, if you can call any part of the exchange they've been having 'nice'.

"To protect you." Lance mumbles. Keith's eyes widen and he begins to worry, brows helping to convey that feeling to Lance despite the lack of eye contact. 

"From what?" Lance visibly curves into himself, not too proud to admit why. He doesn't want to be weak in Keith's eyes but what else is he supposed to do? Lie?

"People I'm not strong enough to protect you from if we get too close." Lance is suddenly hit by a flurry of questions from Keith. 

"Do I know these people? Do you have names? Do you know how I provoked these people?" Keith might be jumping the gun a bit, ok a lot, but if someone is personally planning on hurting the both of them then how is he supposed to act casual?

"No! Not yet. It could happen though. I don't want to put you in that position. I've been in that position and I'd rather keep you safe now than be sorry later." Keith waits for more considering Lance didn't answer any of his questions. Lance sighs again before continuing.

"You don't know them personally. You've probably never seen them before. You haven't provoked them either... yet."Keith raises a brow in confusion. 

"Yet?"

"In the eyes of this person... being a homosexual is like painting a target on your back in big rainbow colors. They will hurt me... but I'm more scared if they hurt you." What the fuck! Someone hurt Lance? What did they do? When did that happen? Where did they hurt him?

"Hurt you? Have they hurt you before? Lance! Who is this person?" Keith tries to get closer but Lance scoots back slightly, hugging himself.

"Please Keith... don't ask me again." He looks down, off to the side. He feels ashamed that he can't protect Keith, he can't really protect him. His father is always going to be there to beat out any happiness he's ever felt, he's always going to destroy anything that's ever brought joy to his life. 

His father is the reason his mother committed suicide. His father is the reasons his siblings died, the reason he had to get rid of Caspian, the reason he had to leave Pidge and Hunk. Now he's the reason he can't be with the boy he likes. Obviously, most of the blame is placed on Lance, he could have prevented it but he didn't fight hard enough. Nevertheless, his father is the reason a lot of it happened. He drove them to death, abandonment, and fear. 

Some father.

"What are you so afraid of?" Keith questions, getting impatient. His short temper coming back to haunt him. 

"Isn't it obvious enough? I've already told you." Lance retorts, folding in on himself more than before, turning away from Keith more. Pushing him away. 

"Lance I don't want you getting hurt. I know how being attracted to the same gender can make people livid for no reason except for the fact that it's 'unnatural,' but if someone is hurting you and you're hurting yourself by protecting me in your own odd way... I want to be there to protect you." Keith is determined to be there for Lance. After seeing this strange vulnerability he has never seen on Lance, there is no way he is letting him walk out that door without knowing how much someone cares for him and how much Keith is willing to endure if it means Lance gets to be happy. 

"Keith..." It's choked, but Lance still doesn't cry. He won't cry. He can't cry. He has to be strong for Keith. 

"No. Listen to me Lance. Despite not knowing as much as I'd like to about you, I know we've both had rough lives. We've been through and seen shit we wish we hadn't, we've both been abandoned and we've both abandoned others. So I'm not letting you abandon me and I'm sure as hell not abandoning you. We can overcome whatever it is you're scared is coming." Abandonment. Does Keith really think that's what Lance is trying to do? He's not abandoning Keith... it's protection. But is it really? 

Dammit. Lance is pushing Keith away. But what other choice does he really have at this point? His father is going to come and hurt Keith, or worse, if he doesn't take precautionary measures. 

"No, you don't get it. You don't know him! He won't stop. I won't be able to protect you! I want to stay with you... but I can't." Lance's fingers are running through his hair, he feels like he's on the brink of a panic attack. So much is happening, he's feeling so much. More that he's felt in the longest time and Keith's the one who's given this to him. Keith has helped him feel, he's helped him connect.

Is he really prepared to lose all that? And for what? The fear that his father is going to find out that he's fallen for a gorgeous boy? Is the fear of his father really worth what he could have with Keith? 

"Of course I don't know him! You won't tell me anything about him!" Keith doesn't seem to notice the internal struggle Lance is trying to sort in his mind. He's confused, they're both scared. Scared for some of the same reasons, scared for some different reasons. 

"Keith listen to me. You need to forget me. You need to stay as far away as possible. Please." This is the last time he can plead with Keith. He's losing the confidence he came in with, he's losing his reasoning. He doesn't know what's happening anymore but that tends to happen when he's around Keith. 

Obviously Keith didn't take too kindly to being told to leave. 

"Fuck no! After all that! Are you seriously telling me that everything we just talked about meant nothing to you?!" A fire burned in the irises of the raven haired teen. Lance would probably be scared if Keith were a complete stranger. He's more so nervous, fighting the urge to rub the back of his neck with his hand out of instinct. 

Having said that, nervousness has nothing to do with he serious persona he's forced to take on if he's ever going to convince Keith to drop this. To just let go.

"That's not what I'm saying! My way is just best in the long run Keith!" Saying this is like the equivalent of telling a teenage girl that you're right and they're wrong. As anyone can imagine it didn't go so well and Keith retaliated with the equivalent force of a girl his age. 

"For who? Us? Or that Michael Myers wannabe you keep talking about?" Despite the joke-ish remark, neither of them laughed. The atmosphere is just too taut for either of them to be effected by something of the sort. 

"This is serious!" Lance seethes. 

"I know it is! But I'm not just going to lose you because someone doesn't accept us!" And as quick as the snap of someones fingers the tensity in the air is replaced by a blanket of worry, grief, frustration. Whatever emotion you'd could tie to someone who's about to lose everything and nothing.

It's like time stopped. That the slight echo of clanking silverware has ceased to sound.  

"I can't keep losing people Lan-" Keith's voice breaks off and that's enough to break Lance's heart. He takes the chance to look at the boy in front of him. Really look at him.

Red trails where tears once were and where they now flood are prominent on his porcelain cheeks. His lashes are dripping with excess droplets of cultivated tears, and his lips are bitten raw. He's slightly gripping at his wrists, not completely scratching them, but pawing out of habit and the black tendrils of his hair are wild atop his head. "It's wearing me thin." He chokes, shoulders bouncing with the threat of new tears. 

He tries, with as much control as possible, to keep from crawling over to Lance. The urge of wanting to be held, for the first time in his life, is trying to take over him. Keith wonders what it feels like to be held, circumferenced in a hug made up of a particular individual. To have Lance's arms wrapped around himself, someone holding him and whispering to him or saying nothing at all. Someone to just be there for him. It's all he could ever want. 

But things are so rocky right now. Would Lance even want to console him? Does he want anything to do with him? Or is this all just a ploy to get rid of him? "If I lose you, there's nothing left for me." Despite how pathetic that sounds, Keith makes a point to look Lance in the eyes when he says it. "You're the first person I've been able to trust in a while, Shiro's never home and I could never discuss these things with Pidge or Hunk or Allura." Keith attempts to get his breathing under control, using his arms as a barricade for any potential backlash.

"Even punching bags get too worn to use after so many hits." Keith mumbles more to himself than to Lance but in Lance's mind it makes everything come together. It's an interesting metaphor to bring to light. One that Lance can connect with on a personal level. His father treats him like a punching bag, in a way this is exactly how Lance feels. 

This is exactly how Lance felt before he met Keith, before he really got to know Keith. Before that, Keith was just the loner emo kid that everyone would try to avoid. Little did he know at the time that Keith is so much more than that. 

Keith deserves the world... a world that Lance might not be able to provide.

"That's what tape is for." The tone is cold and if he could warm it up anymore he would, but it's the only way he could think to convince Keith. Obviously it won't, his efforts are completely and utterly futile at this point with Keith being as stubborn as he is. 

"Lance... after a while you come to realize that tape doesn't do much to patch things up anymore." It's not a yell, but it's anything but civil. Keith is persuading, he's stating. 

"Maybe it's better to keep things covered. Find an alternative. Find people who can make you happy, people who can give you things I can't, and provide you with the things you deserve." Lance hangs his head, furrowing his brows, waiting for Keith to come to his senses. For Keith to agree and leave him on the floor where he belongs. Instead he feels warms skin against his chin, lifting his head up only to be met with Keith's mesmerizing eyes.

"You make me happy! I don't want to forget you!" His face is so close, he could just lean in and... no. This isn't what was supposed to happen. This isn't what Lance agreed to do! Keith trails his fingers on Lance's chin down his tanned skin to caress Lance's jaw, and like an idiot he leans into it. Craving it. Closing his eyes and indulging in it.

But he can't. He shouldn't. But, god he wishes he could.

"It'll be better for the both of us if you forget... trust me." His eyes are downcast, wanting nothing to do with the look that's probably grown in Keith's eyes. 

"What are you? The fucking Genie from Aladdin? How do you know what's going to happen in the future? I don't want to cover up my memories with you." Keith drops his hand from Lance's face, tired of the endless fighting. Endless problems. Maybe they're just too different. Maybe Lance is right.

Maybe he's just overthinking. What is he even doing? Why is he even thinking about something like this?

Lance has shown him what he could have, what they could have. Keith knows he's in denial, Lance's made it quite clear he doesn't want him but in the past month they've spent together, Lance has treated him like an equal and given him a taste of something that could happen in his life, someone, who can make him happy. He's shown me what could be, aside from a relationship apparently.

"Keith-" Lance tries, but Keith doesn't let him get a word in edge wise. 

"You've given me the best month of my life after a year of torturing myself because of Lotor. Why would I give that up so easily?" Keith asks. It's obvious how much this is effecting the both of them. Keith didn't even notice he let Lotor's name slip till it was too late to take it back. His eyes widen in horror at the realization of what he just admitted. 

It take Lance a minute to remember where he's heard that word. Keith mentioned it before but he just dropped it on the account of talking it out. Lotor... that's a name isn't it?

"Lotor... Lotor. LOTOR?!? Lotor Dibazaal?! He left last year? What does he have to do with you?" Lance is honestly perplexed. No matter the conversation they were just having, this topic definitely has Lance's undivided attention, and rightfully so. 

"It's not important." Keith dismisses, but if he thinks Lance is going to drop it he's dead wrong. 

"It sure as hell is-" As much as Lance doesn't want to drop it, Keith tries his hardest to show how uncomfortable the topic is making him.

"LANCE! Focus!" His tone sounds almost annoyed, but at this point Lance is worried. He's spent all this time worrying, you'd think the mere though of worry would be sickening to him by now. That's just the thing when it comes to Keith. No matter how much he's apart from him or near to him he always seems to worry for the boy. 

He's worried for so many reasons. Worried that maybe one day he won't be able to see Keith's beautiful smiles or hear his heavenly laughter. His voice in numerous scenarios whether it be the slight rise to it when something excites him or what he imagines it sounds like in the morning, what it sounded like the night previous.

I guess you could call him perverted for thinking such things at a time like this but he can't help it. These are all things he'd be giving up if he chose to do things his way. Maybe... maybe Keith has a point. Maybe they can make this work. 

Lance just has to get stronger, and what better way to do so than stay by the one thing that motivates him the most. 

Despite the revelation Lance has just had, he's still wondering what it is Lotor has done. Keith didn't sound too happy when saying the name and Lance could only imagine the kinds of things Lotor has done to Keith. 

"No! What did he do to you?! Did he hurt you? I swear if he touched you-" Lance clenched his fists, completely prepared to find this motherfucker and beat him senseless. Lance might not be one for conflict but if someone tries to hurt the few people he cares about, there is no doubt he'd be the first one to try and knock their teeth out.

Keith isn't all too happy about Lance's sudden questioning. It's a taste of his own medicine, in a way, but that doesn't make his blood sink from a boil to a simmer.

"OF COURSE HE FUCKING TOUCHED ME! HE'S MY EX!"

Silence engulfs the both of them. Lance's fists get tighter, knuckles white. Lance might not know every little detail about Lotor and he's personally never been interested in the guy but he's always given off a bad vibe. The thought of Keith being intimate with someone like that, Lance just isn't all too keen on the idea of it. 

"W... what?" It's surprised, almost whisper-like. 

"This isn't the matter at hand right now. Lotor shouldn't be a part of this conversation. Why do you care anyways? It's not like you're planning on sticking around long enough to do anything about it." Keith didn't mean to twist the knife, it's just a forceful habit to leave behind a scar when people make him feel this vulnerable or torn up. 

"That's not fair." Lance's voice wavers. He doesn't want to leave Keith! For god sakes he's hopelessly pining after the boy! Keith just saying this makes him want to bang his head against a wall as if somehow the blunt force trauma is going to solve all his problems. 

He definitely hit a nerve with those three words, and finally Keith's floodgates have been opened. His walls have tumbled to the ground. He's lost all interest in using a filter. It's all gone. All that's left in the wake of torn masks is Keith, in one of his purest and rawest forms. 

And in spite of the things that are about to be said, Lance wouldn't have their conversation end any other way. This is what he wanted, for Keith to be open with him and Keith wants the same. Keith deserves the same, and hopefully one day Lance will be able to give it to him. 

"Not fair? Not fair!? You know what's not fair! Getting kissed by a handsome asshole who ends up blaming it on me instead of themselves! You've ignored me for five days! Those days were torture! I couldn't stop thinking if I did something wrong! I wanted to apologize and ask what I could change so you wouldn't be mad anymore! Or disgusted! Or whatever you were thinking of me!" Keith's lost all control of what's flowing out of his mouth at this point. He's finally opening up that bottled that's held his emotions and thoughts captive for almost all his life. 

"We made a deal and I was actually scared you weren't holding up your end of the bargain! I wanted to check on you! We were supposed to help each other reach our goals!" Keith pulls up his sleeves to reveal scabbing cuts and yellowed bruises. Lance feels a pang of guilt upon seeing the bruised handprint silhouette on Keith's arm. A strong sense of wanting to comfort Keith came over him, but the thought is overruled. Lance wants to see how far Keith goes without interruption. 

"I've been holding up my end of the deal. I've been watching these past few days and you look healthier, so I assume you're doing fine! I wanted to congratulate you! I wanted to find you and hug you! I wanted to tell you I was proud and I wanted to hear someone say that to me for the first time in my life!" It might sound selfish. To Keith is does, anyway. To say things like this. He doesn't want to make Lance feel guilty but at this point he just can't be bother to bite his tongue.

"But what do I fucking get in return? Ignored. Rejected. And I was forced on several occasions to watch you flirt with random girls all around school! Do you know what that feels like? To have the boy you like to go off and start flirting with anyone who isn't you right in your face! Do you know how many times I've wanted to cut in the past five fucking days, but because I believed you were following through, by god I was going to do the same?!" Hot trials of water are pooling down Keith's face, his throat growing scratchy with all the yelling. Lance is seemingly more effected by the words than he thought he would be and seeing Keith unraveled before him is something he didn't know he had to prepare for. 

Lance slowly crawls over to Keith who's sitting only a few inches away on the wooden floorboards. 

"Keith I'm sorry! I didn't want any of this to happen!" He engulfs Keith in a hug, trying his best to keep composed. He can't cry. He just can't. Not now. Not after all this time. 

"What parts?! The part where you got the hopes up of a gay boy that would do anything for you, only to leave and say it was for 'protection'?! No... me neither. I was so fucking stupid to get my hopes up... to think things would finally be getting better." Lance only hugs him tighter. Despite Keith's words, he wraps his arms under Lance's and pulls them closer to him. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want to do anything to hurt you. I wanted to keep you safe. I never wanted to see you get hurt. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Lance is illiterate, mumbling things to reassure Keith and himself. Keith seems to get the idea, and he slowly sniffs and wipes away his tears. Lance pulls a napkin from his apron and hands it to Keith, the smaller boy taking hold of it with a weak laugh.

They stay like that for a moment, quiet. Only so they could recover themselves, and reassure one another. 

"I don't think you wanted to hurt me. You're scared." Keith turns in Lance's arms, noticing the lack on tears on Lance's face but not bringing attention to it. He puts his palm back on Lance's cheek. "I'm scared."

"But I'm not giving up on us. I won't give up on you. I only ask that you have faith in me. Have faith in my durability and my actions." Lance nods his head vigorously, willing to agree to anything Keith says at this point. He doesn't trust his voice, doesn't trust anything about himself at the moment knowing fully well that his tear ducts are full and tempted to spill over. Keith shifts a bit in Lance's arms so he could fully face Lance. His legs are criss-crossed and Lance's arms are supporting his back. 

"Ever since we first started talking you told me to stop making assumptions about other people and I've been trying so hard to try and figure it out. It's really tough Lance, because all my life the people I thought I could trust ended up hurting and using me." Keith takes a deep breath, rubbing calming circles onto Lance's face, both effectively calming himself and Lance. Both their shoulders go visibly slack.

"But again I've been trying... because you asked me to, and you gave me a sliver of hope in humanity." Keith rubs his eyes, stressed and tired of all these emotions. "Jesus fucking christ, we basically fight about the same exact things every time we argue. I'm just... just so tired of this." Lance pulls Keith to his chest for a moment, just wanting the other as close to him as they possibly could be while in the backroom of Coran's coffeeshop. Keith doesn't mind it one bit, a small pang in his chest soaring while listening to Lance's heartbeat. 

"Can we ever just agree?" Keith laughs a laugh so faint, Lance doing the same. Both of them feeling emotionally drained. Lance might not cry but he can't understand how Keith still looks pretty with puffy eyes and red cheeks. 

"At the party... when we talked I could feel a sort of pull. Maybe it's because I was tipsy but when we kissed... god Lance, I felt something." Keith's eyes find Lances, violet storm clouds overlook the sea. Pale, smooth fingers running along Lance's jaw, caressing bruises under liquid foundation. Bruises that don't hurt as much when light circles are rubbed along them. Lance's expression comes off as one would assume a confused child looks when their parents tell them something they don't understand at first. 

He looks down at Keith but before he even registers what's happening, Keith leans in, and the next thing he feels are Keith's slightly chapped lips brushing his. His lips are sweet and Lance pulls him closer, just wanting to be close. Exercising the luxury of getting to be close to someone for the first time in years. 

This kiss isn't hungry, like the one they shared only five days prior. It's sweet and reassuring, and is that alcohol? Keith's lips have the faintest hint of whiskey on them. What did Allura put in that drink? Lance slowly brings his hand to the back of Keith's head, twisting his fingers between strands of Keith's hair. Luckily, for Keith, Lance didn't tug enough to effect him, keeping the kiss meaningful and soft.

Keith slowly pulls away, Lance following his motion wishing he could have kissed Keith longer. If forever wasn't out of the question then he'd opt for that. Keith's hands don't leave his face until he finishes speaking. His breaths fluttery and light as he softly pants from the previous lack of oxygen.

"And I really hope after all this, that you did too." He sends a reassuring smile, one of those smiles Lance would kill to see on Keith's face. Then he gently pulls away, standing up slowly and stumbling a bit after being on the floor for so long. He swiftly gathers his things before exiting through the door, all the while Lance is too stunned to go after him.

God I can't just let him go. He might be a sly little fucker, but there's just something irreplaceable about him. I will do everything I can to protect him, and that means I'm going to have to stay by him.

><><><><><><><

"Have a nice day." I hand a cup of raspberry tea and a muffin to a customer as Keith comes out of the backroom, blush on his cheeks but unsure expression on his face. 

"So how'd it go?" I question, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible. It's not my fault I'm nosey! 

"It... went." He mumbles as he looks to the side, his cheeks stained with a shade of pink slightly darker than before.

"That bad?" It probably went good judging by how he's acting so my question was purely rhetorical. Keith, being as dense as he is, answered. I have no problems with that though, the more information, the merrier. I tuck a few strands of my snowy hair behind my ears, listening intently for anything juicy.

"It wasn't bad... particularly. We just have differences of opinion on some things... but like you said, we just have to talk it out." I grin at him and put a hand on my hip. I throw the other hand out to him and spin him around, trying to get him to loosen up from that conversation. 

No doubt they talked about some heavy things. I could hear the muffled yelling through the door, not picking up the exact words unfortunately. Besides Keith looks like a hot mess. Red face, swollen lips, the circumference of his eyes are puffy and pink. His hair's a mess and he looks like an alcoholic... that last part might be my doing though.

"Wow! The mighty Keith Kogane is giving me credit for my amazing deeds! I'm so honored." I shout sarcastically. Keith covers his face, stained with embarrassment as he turns away from me. 

"Shut up! I was gonna talk to him anyways..." He mumbles with a pout through his hands. I giggle, fully aware of how flustered he is. Lance is good for him. Keith may talk to me about somethings but for Keith to have someone he can be with on a level more personal than ours is definitely healthy for him. 

"Before or after you punched him?" I know all about Keith's temperamental issues. Honestly they've gotten better after the first few months but then again that break up messed him up pretty bad. 

"That isn't important!" 

"Whatever you say. You off?" He nods.

"Yeah. Don't want to 'distract' Lance from work like I've apparently been doing all Summer." I send a smirk in his direction and the confidence he just threw on tumbles off his face with the force of his rosy cheeks

"He was pining hard Keith. It was sad to watch." I shake my head and feign disappointment. Keith laughs, obviously, because I'm hilarious. 

"You should tell him that. See you tomorrow." He waves lightly and I wave back as he walks towards the front door.

"Yeah. You too." I mutter, despite Keith not being able to hear it. He's happier, I can see it on him. Lance is bringing back a Keith I've yet to meet, but I'd be delighted to make this 'happy Keith's' acquaintance. 

With a sigh I lean into the counter, both my arms supporting myself as I survey the shop for anymore customers. I could be doing other things, and just leave Hunk to man the station while I finish paperwork but something just feels... off. I can't exactly put my finger on it but the feeling hasn't left me for a while. 

It's not until I see the dollop of white hair loosely thrown up into a bun that I start to panic. Obviously the little prick has to be here of all places. He slips out of his seat after waiting a few moments and casually slips out the door, jogging in the direction Keith was headed. 

Well... fuck. That can't be good. As if Lance's timing couldn't have been anymore perfect, he emerges from the backroom equally as disheveled as Keith had been. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they went at it in my break room. 

I tap on the counter with my fingernails, each one hitting the marble in a symphony of taps. 

"Ok we talked Allura. Can I get paid now?-" Before he can get too ahead of himself, I pull him back into the break room. If anyone can help Keith, it's going to be Lance. As much as I would like to admit that I can easily defend Keith, I think Lance is the one who really needs to prove to Keith that he will be there for him.

"I was just in here-" Lance starts but I cut him off quickly.

"Lance. I need to talk to you about something serious." He must have sensed the urgency in my voice because he quickly went from a joking demeanor to something more fitting for the situation.

"What? Is everything ok?" I shake my head, already knowing he's not going to be too happy with the situation, but honestly I'd be wasting time if I tried to calm him. He needs to know, now. 

"This morning I ran into Keith and Lotor-" Lance jumps in, recognizing who I'm talking about.

"His ex?!" My eyes are blown wide in confusion. It took me months to earn Keith's trust and Lance earned it in two weeks! How is that fair? It's not important right now. I jump back and give Lance a mystified look.

"He told you about him?" I question. Lance nods in return, eyebrows furrowed.

"Only that Lotor is his ex and he just moved back, why? What about him?" I can see Lance visibly stiffen while talking about Lotor. I don't blame him, after the way he left Keith. His fists are balled and he looks ready to fight, good. He might need to.

"Don't lose your temper... but I think I stopped Lotor from slapping Keith this morning." Lance looks at me with a new rush of anger, not directed towards me surely but it's not something I'd be very fond to see in Lance's eyes ever again.

"He tried to what?!" I silence his outburst with important information. This could be time sensitive. I don't know where they went or what Lotor is planning on doing but all I know is that Lance needs to find them, fast.

"Lance... focus. I have a bad feeling. When Keith left a few minutes ago I noticed Lotor was in the shop and he followed him out-" Lance doesn't wait another second. He rushes to his work locker, grabbing his things and throwing off the apron.

"Where?!" He shouts in the midst of his panic.

"I don't know really-" I fumble, but Lance gets straight to the point.

"What direction did they go?!" He yells. I flinch back at his tone but answer as best I can.

"If you walk out the door, then they went right." I don't have time to say anymore before Lance rushes out of the backroom.

><><><><><><><

I'm going to have to wait for an answer I guess. Hopefully Lance comes to a conclusion before the day ends. He seemed very passionate about that kiss though, then again he seemed passionate about our first one and look how that turned out.

I exit the store, the copper bell singing it's farewell song as I stroll down the road. I don't exactly have a set destination. Most of my afternoon plans consisted of working on that logo at the shop but I guess that means I can just go home and wait for the answer.

My strides are small so I haven't strayed far from the shop. However, I don't feel quite right. I look at my hands to try and make sense of what I'm feeling, when I notice a dark pigment on my palm, more so on the pad of my thumb. It's makeup. Foundation. 

So Lance really is wearing makeup, but that's not why I'm so on edge right now, is it? It feels like there's a cold tinge of some sort slithering its way down my back, or goosebumps forming on my arms. Something doesn't feel right. I barely have the time to ponder the idea of being followed before I'm being pushed into an alleyway and thrown against one of the brick walls . 

"Wh... what the fuck!?" I stutter out, and I'm met with lust ridden eyes.

"I thought you liked it rough, baby." He purrs, albeit maliciously. I squirm to get out of his grasp but he's way stronger than me, it's always been that way. Lotor likes being dominant and he'll do anything he can to make me remember that.

"Lotor? What are you doing here?!" As if I don't already know the answer. 

"Taking back what's mine." He slides his leg between my thighs, rubbing it against the cloth of my black leggings. I try to fight back again but he slams my wrists onto the bricked wall more forcefully, above my head.

"Like hell you are! I'm not yours anymore. You broke up with me." Lotor rolls his eyes like what I've just said is the most childish and irrelevant thing I've ever said to him.

"Oh come on. Our relationship doesn't need labels." Lotor leans in and starts kissing my neck. It's taken all my self control not to let out the soft mewls pooling in the back of my throat. He knows what makes me tick, we've been in bed on numerous occasions and have tried everything at least once. He knows what I like and I know what he likes, not that I usually got what I wanted.

"You like that? My little slut." He huffs into my ear, like the whisper of a dried up winter. His voice is raspy, the word 'slut' falling nothing short of cold. 

"I... I'm not yours." I stutter out, trying to make my thoughts clear. He never liked when I fought back. Lotor roughly grabs my wrists with more force than before. I gasp in pain as Lotor's fingers dig into my healing cuts.

Before I can say anything to try and stop him, he pulls up my sleeves and flashes me with a few looks of pure disgust. I wish I could just disappear, being under Lotor's pointed gaze when he's not pleased is like being a mosquito on a person who's just noticed you've been sucking their blood. 

"The fuck is this? Are you doing this shit again you attention seeking whore?" Lotor presses harshly into the skin, some of the cuts starting to reopen. Blood starts oozing out like sap from a tree. 

"Answer me!" Lotor screams, and I look to the side. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to be yelled at by Lotor. I don't want him to be mad at me, it never ends well when he loses his temper and I'm not used to his beatings anymore. I promised Lance I wouldn't get hurt. 

"N... no." I try to yell back at him with the same power he used with me, but it came out as an obedient cry. 

"Don't lie to me! I don't deserve to be lied to by you!" He presses his body closer to mine and I tense my body to try and keep any unwanted physical feelings from emerging. I dig my nails into my palms, press my head against the wall with as much pressure as I can. Anything to try and keep me from giving in to the pleasurable feelings Lotor is subjecting me to. 

"I... I'm getting better." I stutter, just wanting this to be over. I have Lance, and even if I don't I'm done with Lotor. He can't just come back. I'm not waiting for him anymore, I stopped waiting for him two weeks ago. 

"Look at me baby." He forces my face to look at his, one of his hands holding my jaw with such force it felt as if it were on the verge of breaking. "You love me. Got it? That kid in the shop doesn't deserve you. You need a real man in your life. A man who can make you feel real things-" Lotor presses his leg harder between mine and roughly pulls down the collar of my shirt to better access my shoulder. 

I struggle again but he raises his hand, and this time successfully slaps me across the face. "Were these from your side dick?" Lotor probably motions to the hickies on my collar. Lance made a few on Friday but not too many. Why should it matter to Lotor anyway! He can just fuck off like he did last year. I don't need him anymore.

With my leg closest to his I aggressively knee him in the balls, earning a very funny expression from him and the satisfying display of him trying to ignore the unconditional pain.

"You bitch!" He hisses. Well shit... I'm fucked. 

"Lance is more of a man than you will ever be." But before I know what hits me, Lotor recovers from the trauma to his testicles. He's presses me tighter against the wall, if that's even possible, proceeding to stuff his hand under the band of my leggings. He grabs a hold of my member with such force I have to stop a scream from coming out, in fear of what he'd do if I drew attention to us.

"I've given you two years of the best sex of your life. Two years of a relationship, someone who's been there for you! You're just going to trade me in for a guy you've barely known for two weeks?!" Lotor's grip tightens and I hiss in pain, biting my lip, trying to ignore the sensation of Lotor's hand on my dick. 

It sucks when your body makes you think you're happy when in reality you wish you were numb. Numb so you couldn't feel the pleasure your body thinks you're experiencing. Because this experience is far from pleasurable and I don't want to know how far Lotor's willing to go. If Lotor hasn't changed at all from when he left, then he's probably just getting started. 

Lotor pulls on my hair harshly, earning a shriek from me in surprise. I've always had a hair pulling kink. It's the first kink anybody would really notice with me if they weren't looking and unfortunately this kink can be used against me.

"Tell me you slut!" His voice has never sounded this evil, this dark. Not when he was ever horny, mostly when I wasn't giving the sex my all or if I annoyed him in some way. Even then, his eyes were never this desolate. 

Nevertheless I don't belong to him anymore. He can't control me. I take a deep breath to keep the moans in check before spitting in Lotor's face.

"Best two weeks of my life." Lotor slams me roughly against the wall for that, which was to be expected, hand still in my pants and leg rubbing relentlessly against my slowly forming hard on, which I'm hoping doesn't develop any further. At least not enough to be noticeable. Dammit, why did I have to wear leggings today!

I continue trying to fight him, but it's hard between the stimulation and trying to get away. It's as sudden as a blink when I find that Lotor is thrown to the floor, and none other than Lance is sitting on top of him throwing non-stop punches square against Lotor's jaw. If I didn't know any better, judging by the look of things, I'd be assuming all Lance could see was red. 

Lotor's laughs were maniacal and consistent throughout the beating, which made me uneasy. It only then comes to my attention how hard Lance is hitting him and how much blood there is already. I rush up behind Lance and pull on his arm.

"Lance stop! You're going to kill him!" It takes me a few moments to calm Lance enough to listen to reason. Even then, Lotor tries to make him retaliate again.

"You'll never have him. In the end, Keith will come crawling back to me on instinct begging for my cock-" Lance punches him again, hard, throwing his head to the floor. I don't stop him, the dumbass deserved that last one. 

Lance gets up, dusting off his jeans. His white shirt has some speckles of blood sprayed along certain areas as he looks down at Lotor in disgusting.

"Don't touch him again you sick fuck." Every word is like poison, daring Lotor to try something again. Lance might think this is going to stop Lotor, but Lotor doesn't give up that easily. He's been sloppy today, probably desperate, but this isn't the Lotor I know. 

The Lotor I know is smarter than this. He's going to get smarter. This is just the beginning of a road of pain, road of sorrow, a trail of tears. I don't want to be around here anymore. Those fucking eyes are staring into my soul. He knows that I know. 

I desperately grab Lance's wrist and starts running. Lance follows, not given much of a choice. I don't care where we go and I assume Lance doesn't either, as long as it's away from this sick bastard.

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This is the longest chapter I've written and probably will write. almost 9,500 words! Damn! But anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. We're finally diving deep into this book, despite how many chapters I've already written. I also tried third person POV and did another side character's point of view!

Okeyyyy Bi!