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#Keith's angrily slapping paint on a canvas
vee-is-a-clown · 1 year
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I love artist Keith because I think it's so silly. Like, Adam got worried about Keith's anger issues and encouraged Keith to find other ways to channel his anger. This is all cool and all until Keith's sitting in class, angrily scribbling James being crucified for his sins on his final exam. Or he's sitting in Shiro's apartment, aggressively stabbing a piece of fabric over and over only for the result to be a pretty little embroidered bouquet. Imagine Keith channeling all his rage into crocheting chicken nugget stuffed animals.
So many silly possibilities!!
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scriveyner · 5 years
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I just wanted to say I love your writing so much!!! Also for a request: james and keith stargazing? ❤️
This uh, went somewhere unexpected. Hope you enjoy it!
“Hey,” Keith’s voice cut through James’s dreamless sleep and he shifted, unwilling to rouse. “James, wake up.”
James scrunched his nose up, reluctantly shifting and, as he moved, remembering he’d been sleeping in the passenger seat and now had the biggest crick in his neck. He groaned and cracked his neck, squinting open his eyes to the muted yellow of the cab light. “What?” he said, and shifted again, sitting more upright and stretching his arms out in front of him. “We run out of gas or something?”
“Nah.” Keith was still in the driver’s seat, although now that James was awake he opened the door. “You were drooling all over yourself, thought you’d want to clean up a little.” He smirked at James, who wiped the back of his mouth with one hand, flushing angrily as Keith laughed. “C’mon, I want to show you something.”
Sleep-addled and irritated, James was about to tell him off, but Keith opened the door to the truck’s cab and slid out before he could open his mouth. With the cab light on he couldn’t see much aside from his reflection, so he leaned over and grabbed the keys out of the ignition, slapping the cab light before it drained the battery and opening his door as well. “What the hell is wrong with you, it’s the middle of the night,” James said. He felt the truck bounce a little as Keith obviously climbed in the bed, and he rolled his eyes, standing in the open door and putting his hand on the top of the cab. “Keith, what the hell-”
His breath caught in his throat.
Keith had driven them into the middle of a field clear in the middle of nowhere. He could hear the highway faintly but couldn’t see it, but that wasn’t what had his attention. Instead it was the entire sky, from horizon to horizon, cloudless and brushed bright with stars.
There was no light pollution here, and the view was endless and expansive. James took a deep breath and then another, great gulping breaths of air like he was drowning, because maybe he was and he couldn’t begin to explain it.
“James?” Keith’s head popped up as he stood in the bed of the truck, concern on his features. “You all right?”
He staggered down from where he stood in the door, letting it stand open behind him and walking past the end of the truck. He stopped a little bit past the end of the bed, where the hatch lay open and Keith sat down, watching him silently.
They’d seen the sky together before; stars twinkling through the trees stretched above their heads in the old growth woods in the northwest, the sky painted like an unending canvas when they camped out in the desert, the light from their campfire the only light to be seen for miles; even the muted and masked sky from the city, where the clouds reflected the city lights and you could maybe see a constellation or two if you were lucky.
But it wasn’t this. It wasn’t anything like this.
Keith’s hand was heavy on his shoulder. He’d hopped down from the back of the truck, to stand beside him. “James?” Keith asked again, his voice soft and concerned.
James leaned in to his touch, and let out a long breath, lowering his gaze from the sky. He leaned into Keith unexpectedly, but Keith caught his weight, wrapped his arm around James’s side. Keith made an inquisitive noise, not quite alarm, and James laughed humorlessly and pressed his hand to his face. “We still got half a bottle of Maker’s in the trunk, right?”
#
They sat side by side on the open hatch, passing the bottle between them. It was a little less than half a bottle and James could have cleared it himself easy, but they drank in single pulls to make it last. Keith didn’t press and James didn’t speak - not for a while, at least, the bourbon settling warm in his belly and chasing the soft autumn chill.
“I used to sneak out when I was a kid,” James said, holding the bottle by the neck, swirling the liquid. He tilted his head and looked at Keith, who had arched an eyebrow. “Go on,” James said. “Say it.”
“Yeah, I really can’t see you being a sneaking-out kind of kid,” Keith said, and James laughed.
“We lived in the middle of nowhere, the worst sort of trouble you could get into was joyriding a tractor.” James smiled, and looked at the sky. “I would sneak out into the middle of the fields and just lay back and watch the stars. Sometimes I’d get lucky and catch the meteor showers but most nights I would just fall asleep on my blanket and wake up back in my bed.”
“What a risk taker you were.”
James took another pull, then handed the bottle over to Keith. “What can I say, I was a regular ne’er-do-well.”
“People don’t actually use that word.”
“Yeah, I do.” James leaned back on his hand as Keith snorted into the liquor. “I was fifteen when the farm burned down.”
The silence stretched heavily between them, although James didn’t notice, staring beyond the sky and into a memory that pained him. “I was supposed to be there too,” he said, softly. “Not chasing stars and avoiding my responsibilities.”
“James,” Keith said, but James shook his head.
“Still don’t know what did it,” James said. “Fire marshal said it was an electrical fire. An accident. It wasn’t, I saw…” he trailed off, pushed his palm against his eye for a moment, and then held out his hand for the bottle. They were almost to the dregs now, but it didn’t matter, the pull burning down his throat. “I don’t know what I saw,” he said finally, voice gone hoarse. “But it wasn’t an accident.”
The silence hung again, heavy, and then Keith leaned into him, put his arm over James’s shoulder and pulled him close. “I didn’t mean for this to dredge up so many bad memories,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
James inhaled, raggedly, and looked at the sky again. “You didn’t know,” he said. He tilted his head against Keith’s, and closed his eyes. “Sorry I dragged my issues all over your nice romantic gesture.”
“Eh,” Keith said. “I only intended it to be romantic for like, five minutes then I would have sucked your dick and distracted you anyway.”
He laughed a little, drumming his fingers on the neck of the bottle as he came to a decision. “Still can, if you want to,” he said finally, and Keith nuzzled into his neck, breath warm as he kissed James there.
“You sure?” Keith murmured, his lips brushing over the cut of James’s jaw, passing over the day-old stubble before delivering a proper kiss to his mouth. “We don’t have to do anything.”
James smiled against his mouth. “It’s about time I made some better memories under this sky,” he said, pushing his free hand into Keith’s hair and dropping the mostly-empty bottle off the back of the truck.
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