Follow My Lead

Chapter 7

Keith wakes up to the sound of many voices emanating from the kitchen downstairs, one of them belonging to his father. He looks at the clock. It's 10AM on a Saturday. Why the hell are there a bunch of strange men in his house? Usually professional meetings don't occur on Saturday mornings.

Irritated and still rather exhausted, Keith makes the executive decision to shower and brush his teeth before going downstairs, instead of just lazing around in his sweats like he usually does. He puts on a pair of black jeans and a red shirt and braces himself for social interaction. He really would rather not but...he wants breakfast.

He only has to take two steps down the stairs before he regrets showing his face, because not only is Shiro sitting in his living room but so is the rest of his Shiro's family , plus about six other men he's never seen before, and a girl who looks around his age.

He stares from the bannister, praying to god he wasn't seen so he can just go back to bed and hide forever. But his father's voice booms through the echoing, marble halls. "Keith! Morning. Come here, son."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck---

He locks eyes with Shiro and his breath hitches. He really isn't prepared for this at all and Lance said he could have a week to cry into a tub of ice cream but he hasn't even done that yet and now Shiro is here and so is his family and this isn't at all a good combination of people--

"Son?" His father says, sounding a little concerned.

Keith clears his throat. "I, uh." Charming, Keith . "Hi everybody, nice to see you all, I'll be right down." He says in the most confident voice he can muster, before climbing into his room and falling face first on his bed, willing his heartbeat to calm down.

Fuck , Shiro looks good. Like he always does. Like he always will , every minute of every day of the rest of Keith's sad, pathetic life. His strong jaw and kind eyes and broad shoulders are just so captivating, the thin scar along his nose making Keith itch to reach over and run his fingers across it. He looks like comfort. There is something so familiar about his face, so familiar about the way it makes Keith's heart melt. This sad, pining, despairing feeling is just...so familiar.

Why has Keith let himself feel this way for so long?

Sighing shakily, he lifts himself off of his bed. Maybe he'll never stop loving Shiro. Maybe years from now Shiro will get married and Keith will shed a few tears. Maybe there will always be a part of his heart that never quite healed; that never quite got over it. But he's got to stop tearing himself apart because of it. He has got to stop this heartache, it's ruining his life.

Swallowing down a few tears, he splashes some cold water on his face and takes a few deep breaths. He glances up at himself in the mirror, feeling a little bit like he's one of those stressed-out main characters in an angsty movie. He smirks a little at the thought. For some reason, that sounds like something Lance would say if he were here right now.

"Keith?" Shiro's voice rings through the room, gentle and cautious. "You in here?"

Keith takes yet another deep breath, walking into his room and shutting the bathroom door behind him. He sees Shiro standing next to his bed, looking pretty fucking stunning in a black button down and gray slacks. He crosses his arms over his chest, willing himself to speak. To say anything, really, but nothing comes out. It's a good thing Shiro has his shit together and speaks up first.

"I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you, Keith." He says, voice shaking. Keith immediately uncrosses his arms and they fall to his sides, slightly put-off. He's never heard Shiro talk like this, so devoid of confidence and conviction. An uneasy warmth curls in his chest. Shiro swallows and continues. "I should have told you. The second I started seeing her I should have told you. But I just remembered how crushed you were in college and...I'm not even sure if you remember but..."