jeith | is that alright

is that alright

[It'd been on the back of his mind ever since they agreed that their next step was to return to Earth in order to replace the Castle of Lions, like a ghost silently following him around whenever there isn't something immediately life threatening to hold his attention. For so long he's insisted that there was nothing to go back home to, That by the end of it all he made everyone turn their backs on him and that this was all for the best. It's the only narrative that makes him stop looking at the past and look towards the present and future, and it had served him so well for as long as it lasted.

The return to Earth refuses to be simple though, and barely even before the dust of their destroyed planet had even settled, there'd only been one person in his mind: Griffin. Was he okay? Did he survive this? And then only few minutes later that Garrison car had shown up to pick them up from the ruins of Platt City and that achingly familiar voice had momentarily rendered Keith speechless.

That was just several hours ago, but somehow it feels like a lifetime has passed already between the endless reunions, briefings, status reports and navigating around an entire military's chain of command where it'd only been the paladins before. He doesn't know what to expect from Griffin anymore, but he knows without a doubt that he deserves every single cold look, and grimaces his way through the guy's criticism of his team, somehow knowing it's not even about Hunk, it's him. Griffin wants to yell at him and that's.......

Maybe that's egotistical. Maybe the guy's doing far less thinking about Keith than Keith is doing about him.... and maybe he hopes that's true for Griffin's sake. It's that thought that keeps him from seeking Griffin out on his own. As much as he wants to apologize, he knows not everyone gets to and that not everyone wants one.

Then again that might also just be cowardice in the guise of empathy; Keith doesn't know. But he does know that when Griffin and Veronica turn up unexpectedly at the hangar to help him and Hunk, he's inexplicably, selfishly relieved. They return to the Garrison base without Hunk's parents, but there's a greater sense of resolve in the air. Hunk's going to save his family, they're going to liberate Earth and--]

...James.

[He reaches out grabbing the other boy's arm, heart thudding in his chest.]

Can we talk?

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[There are words he could say to all this, some kneejerk, stupidly defensive words that don't stand up to the barrage of words pouring out of James' mouth. This is all so much worse to hear than anything else James has said so far, like he's forcibly being held down to take punches that go straight to the bone.

His shoulders shake, his whole body threatens to collapse under the force of its own tension and Keith? Keith wants to leave. He wants the space to try and process all of this without having answers ripped out of his soul. He holds eye contact for as long as he can stomach, then looks away, biting the inside of his lip.]

...I wasn't thinking.

[It's the first thing that he finally manages to say. He's older, stronger and actually worth something now, but as he folds his arms across his chest, it looks more like he's physically trying to keep it together.]

I wasn't thinking at all. I just... I didn't care about myself, ok? Back then I really thought no matter what I did, people were just going to leave me.

[Shiro was the first person he really opened up to again after his dad passed away. Shiro had promised he'd never give up on Keith, dragged him back from total hopelessness.... only to throw him right back into the depths of it when he disappeared on the Kerberos mission. Overnight everything stopped mattering again and Keith was suffocating on his own despair.

And then there was James again. Trying. And that was the only thing that made him want to try, too. He had no concept of a future -- not really. The only thing he wanted was to one day go to outer space with Shiro and that... that suddenly had no real meaning anymore. Another broken dream, more ash in his mouth.

But he did have little things like seeing James smile. Holding on as tight as he wanted. Making James laugh. Small things that made things like "tomorrow" hold some kind of meaning again and gradually even things like "careers" started mattering by osmosis. And that's... that's when it all started becoming too much. You don't pin your hopes on people. People leave. People shatter. People don't stay for perpetual fuck ups like him.]

It just... never occurred to me that you wanted me back the way I wanted you.

Edited 2019-01-28 17:07 (UTC)

[ So you left me first. James doesn't say it. No matter how hurt he is, he cannot possibly say it while Keith is looking this vulnerable himself. Despite the matured features, despite the scar crossing his face, Keith looks younger when he's like this. He looks like the boy who would grab James' wrist and pull him around corners, away from everyone else in the Garrison until the world belonged only to the two of them anymore. He looks like the person James has kept enclosed in his heart, somewhere beneath the layers of bitterness.

And that's why, this time, James can't hold back from reaching out for him. His hands find Keith's shoulders but there is still too much time that separates them and he doesn't manage to pull in for a hug. So he stays this way, hands gripping Keith's armor. (He wishes it wasn't armor, he wishes he could feel him.) ]

I... if I had told you, maybe you wouldn't have had to leave, huh...? I just... I didn't think it either. I didn't think there was any reason for you to come to me other than that you were in pain. I thought... I thought that was the only way I was ever going to have you.

[ Letting Keith have his way until he heals, being there as he heals, and then... Maybe being able to claim his small share of the person Keith was going to become. The person he may be now, all without James' contribution. ]

[He wasn't expecting James to reach out to touch him and so the contact makes him freeze in place, holding his breath to brace for whatever follows -- a push, a shove or something, but that isn't what comes. He looks up at the other boy, heart skipping a beat. Irrational.

They should have had this conversation years ago, not now. Not after all the damage has already been done. He doesn't know why the hell he feels so torn hearing all this now when he's had years to build up a wall around this, why he's mourning what they had and what they could have been four years later, but....

But he reaches out, too. So tentatively, like James might be made of glass, he dusts his fingers against his cheek and then lets his hand drop.]

You were the best part of my life. The only reason I wanted to keep trying.

[And he's just... so sorry for the both of them that this is only coming up now.]

[ His self from the past few years wants to scream at Keith for being a dirty liar, but looking at him now and feeling his hand against his skin, James knows that it wouldn't be true. Keith means what he's saying and that's just completely preposterous. It doesn't fit into the narrative James has fed himself one bit. These few words are enough to send the foundation of a quarter of his life tumbling to the floor.

And James can't help but laugh. Except laughing winds up being a bad idea because the way his shoulders shake and his face aches soon becomes all-too familiar. He's sobbing before he knows it, forehead pressed against the shoulder of Keith's cold and hard paladin armor.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard if he'd allowed himself to cry about this more often in the past. Maybe if he had told anyone, at any point in time, about the hell that Keith put him through then all of this would be different. But James hadn't done that, hadn't been able to. His memories with Keith were his alone, the one part of Keith he could jealously keep to himself. Even in the worst moments when he hated Keith more than he hated anyone else, he could know that Keith's weakness was his. James is a jealous person to the core and he'd never been able to let go of this privilege.

So now it's all spilling over, years of tears that he swallowed up and of quiet weeping stifled by a pillow so his room-mate couldn't ask what's wrong. James doesn't remember when the last time he cried like this was - maybe two years ago, sometime in the early stages of the war, when the loss was still sinking in and hadn't hardened his heart into a perfect soldier's yet. ]

[Keith doesn't know which is worse, the laughter or the sobs that the laughs turn into. The last time he'd seen James cry was when they were both kids in middle school and he doesn't remember what caused it anymore -- something inane, something utterly forgettable, and it was nothing like this. This comes a whole lot closer to the time James came to find him when he wasn't there at the memorial service for those who never came back from the Kerberos mission. The time when he'd cried so fucking hard in James' arms that past a point he'd physically run out of tears.

That's where James is now, isn't it? And the thought is unbearable. Keith has felt exhaustion after difficult battles before. The kind that made his limbs feel like they'd turned to lead and made him collapse onto his pillow to pass out for hours at a time. But this is worse than that; something inside is screaming that it hurts but there's no salve for it, no amount of rest is going to make that go away and --]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

[He brings his arms up to pull James into a hug, one arm wrapped around his back, the other winding up to rest between shoulder blades, fingers gently brushing the back of his neck.]

Edited 2019-01-28 22:16 (UTC)

[ It takes a while for James to calm down to a point where any bit of energy in his body can be exerted for something but desperate sobs. Six years, six years in pointless pain, all because two teenage boys were too stupid to confess their love for the person they'd been sleeping with. It's so unbelievably stupid. Such a simple and basic mistake and it cost James so much. Too much.

Keith's touch is reassuring, but their mission attire makes it impersonal and distant anyway. How fitting. Even when he's pressing himself against Keith for support once more, nothing about it is the same. Neither of them is wearing that thin and badly-fitted cadet uniform of days gone past anymore.

He separates himself first hesitantly and then with more force. With his knuckles he rubs at his eyes, though he knows the effort to rid himself of tears is futile. He must look hideous now. ]

... let's go elsewhere. If anyone sees me like this, I'll scream.

[ He's whispering now, voice a bit thick with tears still. The hangar is too public, he can't stay here or he'll go crazy. It's too exposed for this degree of vulnerability. ]

[When James pulls back, at first Keith completely forgets he has no fucking right to hold onto him anymore and simply holds tighter.... until he remembers and releases the other boy quietly and all too suddenly. His head is throbbing, buzzing with so many questions, so many new regrets and he can't manage eye contact just this second. Looking at James right now just feels too raw, too much like he's staring into a smoldering fire. His voice comes out equally soft, equally drained.]

Let's go then. They assigned us private quarters, so I don't have a roommate.

[A pause, then he adds.]

...if that's what you want.

Let's go.

[ James confirms immediately. He's not allowing himself more questions now, he just wants to be elsewhere and he wants to be there fast. Going to his room isn't an option, there's no way he wants to endure Kinkade's lingering look of worry right now. It's sickening to think of anyone seeing him with his face puffy like this over heartbreak, over Keith. James won't allow it. And thus, somehow, once again Keith is the only one who can lay his weakness bare in front of him. ]

[And with that, Keith starts to walk out of the hangar towards the Garrison's living quarters. One small mercy is that it's late at night, far past curfew and there aren't' any cadets or other personnel looming around. The lights of the compound are turned off -- a measure to reserve whatever power they have to keep that particle barrier running on full power, so they walk bathed in soft orange light in total silence.

Moving around is helpful; physical exertion always kept Keith's head clear of extraneous thought, but it isn't long before they reach the barracks and they approach Keith's assigned room. He pauses outside to enter a passcode, then the door slides open. The room itself has no personalized touches as they'd left everything in their lions and it's a room that's still so unused, save for a cadet uniform that's been laid out on the bed along with military issue pajamas. His boots are left by the table.

Keith gestures for James to enter, then walks in afterwards. The door shuts behind them and once again they're just alone again. Occupying a space that's just them. Keith sets the red helmet down on the table, trying not to sigh.]

...we were really good at talking, huh.

Edited 2019-01-28 23:19 (UTC)

[ James walks with his teeth grit tightly, trying to keep it together, praying not to be seen. Some of that tension drops from his shoulders when they arrive in Keith's room. If nothing else he is safe from invasive gazes in here. Keith doesn't count. Keith is the cause of all of this, the bane of his existence, and it's too late to take back his tears anyway.

Though it's been far too long since they've been in private quarters together, James lets himself fall onto Keith's bed next to the laid-out uniform as if it was the most natural thing to do. ]

... yeah. If I felt like an idiot for wasting so much of my life hung up on you before, then I don't even know what to call this feeling.

[ As he speaks, he takes off his gloves so he can run his bare hands over his face. ]

Honestly, this seems like a sick joke, doesn't it?

[Keith pulls out the desk chair and sits down heavily, idlly beginning to pull at the pieces of his armor. It's not that his gear is uncomfortable, just that he needs something to occupy his hands and mind for a few more minutes before he can even delve back into how ... how stupid he'd been. The leg armor comes off first, simply because that's easiest.]

.. yeah.

[His voice is soft, a little distanced and pensive.]

I... [Trailing off, unsure how to finish that sentence.]] ...can I ask why you didn't tell me?

You can. I'm just not sure I have a good answer.

[ James sighs. His eyes are still burning and his head is dully aching. Crying is miserable. He's glad he doesn't do it often. The relief of it isn't worse the washed out feeling after. ]

Guess I didn't want you breaking my heart?

[ This time he leaves the 'look how that turned out' unsaid. He doesn't feel like needling anymore, the situation hurts enough as is already. ]

Well, and... you were the first. I was an idiot teenager, I didn't know how to go about these things. It felt like the wrong kind of situation to fall for anyone in, I thought I was... being kind of tasteless.

[James doesn't have to say what he's decided to leave unsaid; Keith's mind supplies it for him anyway loud and clear, and his expression falls. It takes another moment before he resumes fumbling with his arm guards.]

You were already being kinda tasteless being with me, you know.

[It's meant as a joke, though for the life of him, Keith isn't able to stick the delivery on it. Cycling between numb and pained all over again, his voice stays flat, and he drops more pieces of armor onto the floor, not caring that he ought to be organizing it.]

Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do.

[...and somehow it was the only thing he really knew how to do. Keith drags his hand down his face and takes a deep breath. Just concentrate on taking off the chest piece and then... and then he can work out the next step after that when he gets there.]

I believe you on that now and it doesn't make this whole 'disappear without a word' any more comprehensible.

[ It is daggers in his heart to think that Keith hadn't gotten any of the affection he was bending himself over backwards to give. Being with Keith had hurt so much and he'd still tried so hard and just... nothing.

Looking at Keith when he's essentially stripping is strange in the context of this conversation, but James still can't help but think about all the ways in which Keith's body changed. He's an adult now, every bit a fighter. It's visible everywhere in his frame.

After a moment, he looks away with a sigh, stares at the wall instead.]

... and yeah, it was tasteless. It was super tasteless to accept your advances when I knew you wouldn't be making them in any better state of mind, but I was... very 17.

....I don't regret that, you know.

[A strange thing to admit out loud all this time later. At first, of course he hated himself a little for ending up in the arms of the kid who'd tormented him for years -- of course he knew it was fucked up. But paradoxically, that's what made it easier -- he didn't care what James thought of him. He didn't care if James thought he was being needy or greedy or anything. The guy already thought he was trash, there weren't any positive expectations to inevitably shatter and it made going to James so much easier.

But it was never just that simple, was it? He doesn't know when wanting distractions turned into wanting James, but wanting him came with so many other things that were too difficult at the time. In retrospect, it aches just thinking about the hubris involved behind wanting to make James happy when he himself had no real sense of what happiness looked like in the long term. He experienced that in quick bursts back then, like chasing adrenaline rushes that burned out all too quickly and...]

And I can't explain that in a way that's going to make sense.

[The chest piece of his armor loosens in his hands, and Keith pulls it off over his head.]

Like I said. I'm not proud of it, ok? So... don't take this like I'm defending what I did. [He sighs, letting that last piece of armor drop and gets to his feet, pacing.]

I just couldn't face you after getting booted, okay? You tried so hard to help me stay in line and I messed it up. I messed it up in a way that I couldn't fix and... I thought you'd be disgusted. I was never going to be a pilot again and that was the end of anything I had to offer. I thought for sure that it'd be over. That this was the wake up call you needed. [A breath as he rubs his face.[ ...I was just a scared kid running away.

[There's a brief silence and:]

You asked what I wanted. I don't know. I guess I just want you to know that I'm not going to run away again.

[ James isn't even sure what he would have thought of Keith's expulsion from the Garrison had he been confronted with it on normal terms. Maybe he'd have gone talk to Iverson, try and reason with him. Gotten himself punished as well, in a minor way that would still have majorly scandalized him. And then... who knows?

The line of thought comes to a stop when Keith finishes talking. James finally tears his eyes off the wall again. It's a big mistake because wow, Keith has developed a really broad chest and it's the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now. It's tasteless. Maybe in that way it does fit them.

James swallows and meets Keith's eyes instead. ]

Not running away from what exactly?

[Well that's certainly the question, isn't it. Keith meant the sentiment in a general sense -- that he's left behind the kid who ran away from his problems and has learned to face whatever mess he's caused on his own, no matter what the consequences are, but coming face to face with a demand for specifics...

Well. He pauses, but doesn't drop eye contact.]

Whatever it is that you want from me. If you still want anything from me at all.

[Be it becoming a punching bag for all the things he did, a shoulder to cry on... whatever it may be.]

[ James finds himself raising his eyebrows. ]

'Whatever I want'? That's a pretty foolish thing to offer someone you only just re-met, Keith.

[ Though truth be told, he doesn't really know what he should want either. He knows what he yearns for, but it's too bad an idea to even consider. ]

And here I expected you'd moved on from being so self-destructive...

[At that Keith takes a seat on the bed about an arm's length away from James.]

You gonna hurt me then?

[He has his doubts that James could do or say anything that could be more hurtful than what's already been said..]

[ Well, that's... a very open and simple question and he simply doesn't know the answer. It gives James pause. Keith is sitting close now, way too close, and looking at him from this distance... it's nice.

In the hanger, he hadn't been able to return Keith's sentiment, but it rings true now. I missed you. James missed this, the intimacy of simply being themselves around each other even if their selves are far from what they present to the public. Far from perfect. Well... maybe Keith is perfect now. Closer to it than ever before at any rate.

Eventually, James shrugs. ]

... not sure. If there's anything I just learned it's that we're really good at doing that to each other no matter what.

[Keith looks down at his hands with a sigh.]

Guess we are, huh.

[And in the back of his mind, he wonders if he'll ever be able to stop hurting people who care about him. It'd gone disastrously with James, and even after he thought he'd grown up a bit... under the pressure of going space mad he'd failed utterly to be a leader the paladins could rally around, let alone be the friend they all needed.

Maybe it's just... etched into the fabric of who he is. That there's always going to be some part of him that's ready to lash out at friends when he's feeling vulnerable and weak. He swallows.]

It's a curse. I hate it.

[ It only took this little to make James hate Keith's dejected expression again. Only so few words of reconciliation for him to fall right back in. Whatever sadistic pleasure he'd felt about Keith being hurt had vanished completely at the realization of what both of them went through. ]

I can't undo the last years. I can't pretend it's been fine, least of all to you. I feel a lot of ugly things. And you're the only one who knows and has to take it. You sure you don't want to run away?

[ James just... can't imagine it will be fun, for either of them, to hear of the years that passed without one another. Guilt, burning jealousy, resentment... He can already feel them coming. But this is still the only way he could ever want anything from Keith at all. There's no way a superficial relationship could be sustainable between them. Not now, maybe not until in decades. ]

[There's a grimace at this, though Keith looks back up at James quickly.]

I'm not doing that to you again, so... yeah. I'm sure. And I'm sure you're not going to be able to talk me out of it.

[ This is like a dream scenario that he wakes up from feeling hollow inside, leaving him moody all day. Only this time it's real, he knows it because he still feels awful. He's tired, his face is only starting to recover from a crying fit, his head hurts.... Every part of him feels shittier than dreams would ever allow for. And in his dreams, he may still have better judgement than in reality, because James finds himself impulsively reaching for Keith to pull him closer. He hasn't done this in so many years, but it still manages to feel faintly familiar. ]

...we're going to regret this.

[ It's mostly a whisper, though a heartfelt one. Every part of this is a terrible idea and he needs to leave now to reconsider it in peace and quiet. Re-find his sanity. Not listen to the part of him that currently is screaming reclaim Keith as if it could somehow make up for every year of absence. He should really not be listening. Keith is a bad influence, this is only re-confirmation. He can't keep doing this. He can't---

James drowns out his own thoughts as he leans in for a kiss. ]

Edited 2019-01-29 02:45 (UTC)

[Defying all odds, Keith wasn't necessarily expecting to be pulled in. He wasn't entirely sure where any of this was going... and maybe in retrospect he should have anticipated this. He'd already drawn the comparison earlier between how he was the day of the memorial service and James in the hangar... so really was there any real reason to question why this was unraveling in much the same way?

We're gonna regret this.

And just like that it's a little like they're both teenage boys again trying so hard to find comfort in each other, despite knowing how stupid it was. And it's all so painfully familiar. The hands pulling him close, the way their faces align, the outline of James' lips...

There's only a second spared for an idle thought on whether or not this also counts as being tasteless, but after that Keith doesn't care. He leans into the kiss, hand reaching up to wind around James' neck to hold him there because he felt a little like he was drowning and this -- despite the wrongness of it -- makes him feel like he can breathe again.

It's been so long since he was physically intimate with anyone. For so many different reasons he hadn't been interested, but perhaps even if there wasn't a brutal war going on, he simply couldn't. Couldn't because every time he even entertained a frivolous thought, his heart would ache wondering what a certain hotshot pilot was up to. Now he knows a little of what happened. There were others... and some ridiculous part of Keith wonders if James kissed them just like this, and he knows, he fucking knows, that he had no claim to the boy, but it doesn't make that fresh cut sting less.

So he should stop. He should pull back and say this is too soon. But he wants to stay close like this just as much. No.More.

He draws back just enough to breathe out a few words.]

I really missed you, James.

[Whisper low, and then he closes the small gap again for another soft kiss.]

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