The Half of It

Chapter Seven

When Keith was finally left alone with Lance who was sleeping untroubled, he shifted his demonic vigor into the energy sensors and he closed his eyes.

They meant that Keith still had a power of sight even though his eyelids were firmly shut, and his mind-vision cataloged the entire plan of Lance's house. The sensors allowed him to detect the traces of energies present in the building while also alarming him about whether the energy was approaching or not. When he confirmed that the coast was clear, he bent down and reached out under Lance's knees, propped him and picked the boy up from the floor. Lance was feather-light, and his head lolled to the side and collided with Keith's collarbone. Lance still had Keith's coat wrapped around his shoulders which was double his size and Keith's nostrils were tickled by the exotic scent of twenty mixed aromas of herbs and fruit he scented off the boy's body.

He remembered that people upon scenting the keen fragrances were prone to scrunching their faces into questionable grimaces and emitting loud, animal-like whistles from their noses and mouths that sometimes resulted in crimson cheeks and spit flying into multiple directions. Keith believed it was what mundanes called sneezing.

It was disgusting.

One part of his brain forced the thought of him sneezing on Lance's face-

But Keith then entered Lance's room with the boy sprawled across his chests and a nose buried in the crook of Keith's neck like he was about to sleep to kingdom come. Keith's vigilance was filled with the overwhelming flash of the blue color. Blue were the walls, partly the large representative posters that contained the images of water surfaces and space and the detailed preview of the solar system that took ¾ of the wall above Lance's bed. Blue were the snack wrappers which Lance piled up on his desk next to his also very blue collection of distorted but aesthetically pleasing rocks (the shells-thingy?), and blue were the boy's shirts which were messily thrown over the support of the office chair. Keith wondered if Lance was obsessed with everything blue.

Keith gently lowered the sleeping boy on the bed, leaving him in his coat but also covering him with one of the covers which were hanging off the mattress.

Ever since he had touched the surface of the Earth's social construct they preferred to call home and ever since he had landed into Lance's, Keith realized that he had been caught in a whirlwind and he had no time to think. But in regard of time being one of the constructs as well, and with the human vessel passed out on the other side of the chain, there was only so much that Keith could do to create some space for himself to just cleanse his energy channels. The chain was preventing him from distancing himself anywhere out of Lance's range, so he found it circumstantially conditioned to plump down onto the floor next to Lance as he allowed his back to rest against the wooden frame.

There was a lot to process, and Keith who spent his life doing what his learned behavior nudged him to do, everything to accommodate his father's wishes had no idea how to deal with endless possibilities that a short period on Earth offered him. First, there was knowledge of the colors. He could see above the limits of the demonic perception as he had discovered the blue and its breath-taking concept. 

Second, his mood was suffering under the influence of an emotional escarpment that the bond transfer brought up, his emotions rapidly changing, and he was close to admitting himself that human feelings he was experiencing scared him to death. 

As for the third, the realization of humans themselves. Keith had never met so many heterogeneous energies that continued to mutually clash and meddle, and since he got bound to Lance, he had been able to experience the energetic impacts profoundly. Keith was beginning to feel exposed in all sort of ways which didn't appease him. He was a demon, and he had to be in control. He always liked to play it safe.

But then this happened and hit him like a comet.

The sudden watchfulness, sensory overload, story of soulmates and the entire bond thing, the painful need to jump out of his skin and stop being himself.

''Keith?''

He glanced to the side. ''Yeah?''

''I'm awake,'' Lance grumbled, squinting eyes at Keith's mullet which was too far up in his nose.

Keith cocked his eyebrow. 

''Man, I feel like a train ran me over.''

''You look like that too,'' Keith said flatly.

Lance put on his Casanova smirk although his expression was drowsy. ''You couldn't stop staring at my face even when I was asleep, admit it.''

''I had to make sure you weren't drooling on my coat.'' Keith scoffed.

Lance instantly reddened when he noticed the large material wrapped around his frame, and he hastily let the fabric drop to the ground when he stood up. He glanced around and began to wrestle with his sheets to avoid the embarrassment.

''I left my phone somewhere-''

But his ankle slipped on the slick fabric at the edge of his bed and his body involuntarily fled forward. He ended up grabbing the surface of his desk, but his elbow ended up smashing the buttons on his keyboard. Right after, Lance's screen lit up and his browser with all its contents was on the full display to him and the demon, and both of them just wordlessly gaped.

On his computer screen was a video of the guy firmly holding the other by the hair, as he was hungrily biting into the soft skin of his neck while the latter had his head thrown back in pleasure and mouth agape.

Lance was suddenly on his feet and quickly clicking on the 'X' button 10 times per second, closing the tab after the nineteenth try.

Without thinking he turned around to face Keith, and the demon looked paler than he was supposed to. The raven diverted his eyes from the screen and stared at the carpet like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

''This kind of thing is normal on Earth, okay? So let's just forget about this and never mention it again.''

Keith's breathing was ragged. ''Can you please just shut the fuck up for a moment?''

Lance raised an eyebrow. ''I don't feel a need to justify what I-''

''-Lance, for fuck's sake, stop.'' Keith abruptly cut it. ''Your private preferences do not concern me.'' He stated flatly, turning away from confused Lance.

He thought that Lance was going to probe the topic further and start another argument or unnecessary discussion because Keith was able to smell it off of him; the fear, the guilt, the shame, but a couple of moments passed and he was relieved that the boy didn't. 

Instead, Lance tossed his shirt over his head, wiggled out of his tight jeans and Keith had his head turned as soon as Lance had seized his shirt by the hem. He heard rustling behind him and Keith knew he couldn't get up and leave just like neither could Lance, and the fact that he had to sit there without a choice beaked at his mind.

A couple of hours passed, and Lance was in a deep slumber. Keith was listening to Lance breathing, his blood coursing through his veins, soft gasps muffled into the fabric of his pillow, and Keith's body felt burnt like there was something intense prickling in his fingertips, like electricity or fireworks and he didn't recognize the foreign sensation.

''Keith?''

His head absentmindedly whipped to the side to eye the sleepy boy. 

''Keith, I'm sorry. I was way too embarrassed and-''

But suddenly, Keith noticed that Lance's cover had a color.

It wasn't red, nor blue, nor white nor-

''-I am really sorry for running my mouth.'' Lance finished with the dwindled shame.

''Lance?'' Keith knew that the panic was audible in his voice. ''What is the color of your cover?''

Lance's eyes trailed down the full length of his body.

''It's yellow.''

''Shit.''