Klance : Synonyms For Stupid

Dumb

"... you still awake?"

Lance shuffled to the edge of his bed to peak down at the boy below.
Keith was huddled against the mattress, hugging his knees to his chest.
"Yeah..." he whispered.

The boy above him quietly slipped off the bed and plopped down by his side.
Keith looked up from his arms, a little puzzled by his friend's actions. " —What are you doing?"

Lance didn't return his gaze, instead choosing to stare at the wall. Squinting a little at the cheesy posters that garbed them.
He paused for a moment then pursed his lips.
"Couldn't sleep either..."

Keith hummed in response,  turning his head to join  Lance's starring contest with the wall.
The boys sat in silence for a while, time seemed to slow.
A sad breath of tension lingered in the air yet it was weirdly...euphoric.

Lance opened his mouth to speak but hesitated for a moment. He shifted his gaze towards Keith, the boy in turn meeting his eyes.
They stared wordlessly for a moment too long, a strange feeling swelled in the pit of Lance's gut.
"Keith..."  he murmured.

He didn't respond, didn't look away.
The dim light of the moon peaking through the curtains and lightly sculpted the boy's faces.
Lance's gaze slowly flickered down to reunite with the purple bruises that decorated Keith's neck.

Bright blue eyes turned dark, and his brows contorted in frustration.
Keith followed his gaze, realizing what had caught his attention.
Instinctively, he went to cover his neck.
Lance moved in closer and grabbed his wrists, gently pulling them away. "Don't— uh...Don't touch them... it'll hurt..."
He cursed himself inwardly, feeling a little stupid.

"Seriously keith... please, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?"
He looked up at his friend once again and to his surprise, Keith still didn't avert his gaze.
In fact... he seemed to stare harder, like he was trying to tell him something.
There was something about the way he was looking at him, a glint of desperation to be wordlessly understood.
His own body betrayed his defensive mind, eyes screaming for help.

Lance's stomach twisted into an ugly knot,
that wasn't the reaction he was expecting.
Something was wrong... no, seriously, seriously fucking wrong.
This can't just be about his brother, this can't be an injury from some mugging or a fight like Lance had originally thought.
Something seriously messed up was happening to his friend.

"I-I"
Keith was breathing rapidly, his heart was beating out of his chest, his stomach twisted and throat dried.
"I cant-" He croaked, eyes wide with panic.

Lance's hands shook, he couldn't wipe the look of horror off his face.
He didn't understand why this petrified him so much, he didn't know what to do, what to say...
As much as he wanted to offer him comfort he couldn't manage to control his own flood of emotions.

Lance gritted his teeth, and slowly let go of Keith's wrists.  "Look, whatever is happening to you... I can't help you if you don't -"
Keith interrupted  "-please, don't. Seriously I- can't- just forget it okay."

Lance scoffed.
"Forget it?! I-"

Keith suddenly stood up. "Yes! fucking forget it okay?? Dude, what is up with you lately?! It's none of your business! Stop acting like we're close..."
He didn't wait for a reply, simply started heading for the door and Lance panicked.
"Wait- where are you going?"

Keith paused, shoulders softening a little, a small weed of guilt growing in his chest.
"...Relax, I'm just going for a smoke." He sighed reaching for his jacket and slipping it on.

"...Can I come?"

Keith hesitated, looking away.
"... Not like I can stop you." He murmured, shuffling through his pockets.
Lance smiled softly, grabbing his coat.

The boys slipped out the back door, making sure to keep as silent as possible.
They walked in middle of road opting to ignore the side walk entirely.
It was quiet, no cars or people in sight.
Street lamps flickered above as booted feet clunked  across dampened gravel.

After walking wordlessly for a block, the duo approached a park. One usually lit up in the day, full of children playing grounders, or tag, giggling happily.
Now an empty, and slightly ominous display...
There's something so nostalgic, yet utterly depressing about a playground at night.

The two soon found themselves approaching a rusted swing set, shaking of the accumulated water droplets before taking a seat. The metal chains making a hideous squeak as they did.
Lance watched from the corner of his eye as the boy next to him lit a cigarette, cupping his hand around the stick to shield the flame from the wind.
He exhaled deeply, peering up at the sky.
The weren't many stars visible, but the sky was pretty nonetheless.

"Mind if I bum one off you?"

Keith turned to look at the boy, wearing a confused look. He held out the carton for him . "Since when do you smoke?"
Lance shrugged, taking a dart and placing it between his lips. "I dont."

The two leaned their swings closer to one another, Lance bending forward a little more as Keith obliged to light his cigarette.

Keith couldn't help but stare a little as the flame lit up Lance's face.
Amber light kissed perfect, unblemished skin.
Contrasting his soft blue eyes and pretty lashes looking down. The shadows defined his features.
He had never really noticed before, but Lance was actually quite handsome.

The thought was short lived as Lance exhaled, a small gust of smoke trailed from his lips.
The boys pulled away from each other relaxing into their seats once again.
Keith stuffed the box and lighter back into his pockets, returning his attention to the sky.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Lance asked, rocking his swing slightly, unable to sit still.
Keith continued to stare into space. "Nothing really." He replied, flicking the buildup of ash on the end of his smoke onto the wood chips below. "You?"

Lance had a billion things on his mind, and even more to say. Questions lay dormant on the tip of his tongue begging to escape.
"Nothing really..."

"Cool."

"Coool."

This was torture.