Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had just finished dinner and were relaxing on the couch, Dorian's arm wrapped around Keith to hold him close. They were watching tv together, a peaceful routine they had fallen into. Currently, a nature show was on, one describing the intricate lives of meerkats. Dorian enjoyed it, some mixture between the science and soap opera catching his attention. Keith found the complexities of the animals’ lives interesting, fascinated by how they had their own social structure and rules that they abided by. It was oddly comforting. 

Things had gotten better for them. After Keith's sudden disappearance and just as sudden reappearance, things had been rough. The betrayal, the manipulation, the lies, the whole act came crumbling down around him. And yet, despite it all, Dorian allowed him back in. 

It was slow going from there, both of them learning how to navigate around each other. The plan wasn't for Keith to stay forever, just long enough to figure things out. They didn't intend on getting together again, but they were never good at that. This time was different though. Softer, gentler. It was like starting all over again, except this time Keith was allowed to be himself. Dorian knew better now. No more performing, no more manipulating, only honesty. 

Keith had burnt himself out, both from years of masking in the house and the explosive outburst afterwards. When he came back to Dorian, he couldn't hide how he felt. Which was less. Not that he didn't feel, just that he didn't feel things the same way, didn’t express them “correctly.”  He didn't inherently understand the strict social rules everyone else did, wasn't aware of shame or embarrassment or guilt. He learned what things caused those feelings in others and taught himself to perform them well, but it wasn't automatic like it seemed to be for everyone besides him. The entire gentleman persona had been put on to hide the fact that there was something wrong with him.

It took Dorian some time and work to get used to the new, subdued Keith. He had his own insecurities and expectations to unlearn. He had to realize that even though Keith wasn't as expressive of his love, he did still love him. He also had to understand that, yes, it took Keith extra effort at times to be more expressive, but he would put in that work to make Dorian happy and feel loved. 

Their peaceful moment was ruined when loud, frantic pounding against their door made both of them jump. Dorian shot up and held a hand back towards Keith protectively, silently telling him to stay put. He slinked across the room to the entrance hallway, avoiding the windows or making a sound. Keith grabbed his cane from next to him, gripping it tightly as he stood, staying back from Dorian but ready to move if he needed to. 

Keith had been able to avoid his unsavory history of post Realization so far, had been able to keep that away from Dorian when he returned to him seeking help. The ever present threat of it hung over their heads though, no matter how careful Keith had been to hide and cover his tracks. It had gotten easier to forget about as time went on and nothing resurfaced, but sudden knocks on the door or traffic stops brought everything crashing back to them. 

The pounding didn’t let up and he could hear muffled yelling through the door, an angry, desperate sound that confused him. Dorian looked over at him again as he stood in front of the door, his face drawn tight and serious. Keith gave him a small nod, a silent communication to continue, that he was prepared to react however was necessary. Dorian nodded back and stepped closer to the door, reaching for the locks but stopping when a loud slam shook the wood. The knocking stopped for a moment and Keith could distantly hear the person on the other side shouting. “I’ll knock your fucking door down if you don’t open it right fucking now!” 

Dorian and Keith looked at each other again, another slam reverberating through the door. The voice seemed familiar, but Keith couldn’t quite place it, not with how they were shouting and through the walls. Dorian’s serious look softened slightly, turning more confused and concerned. He undid the locks and opened the door carefully, cracking it open just a few inches to peer past it. 

“Fucking finally,” the person on the other side said and Keith lowered his cane as he realized whose voice it was. 

“Eddie? What the hell are you doing here?” Dorian asked, the door still only partially open. 

“Where’s Keith?” Eddie said, no longer shouting but his voice still raised. Hearing his own name made Keith tense. 

Dorian’s face grew severe again, his posture straightening to be more imposing. “Why?” he asked, voice just as stern as his face. 

“Because I need to fucking talk to him, that’s why!” Eddie snapped, yelling again. 

Keith took a step closer, hesitantly curious about what Eddie meant by that. He and Eddie hadn’t had the best relationship pre-Realization, let alone post. There had always been a tension between the two of them, especially after Keith’s first encounter with Volt ended with Eddie giving him a broken nose and black eye. They hadn’t even spoken to each other since being Realized, in fact there were very few of the other former objects that Keith had interacted with since returning from his explosive burnout. He had no idea how many of them even knew he was alive, let alone living with Dorian. He certainly wasn’t talking to any of them, but he didn’t know how much of him Dorian had mentioned to the others. He was much more invested in keeping contact with as many of them as he could, but as to how open he was about harboring a fugitive to their previous housemates….

“What about?” Dorian questioned, unmoving from his protective stance. Keith could see the way his shoulders tensed when he took a step closer. His eyes didn’t move from Eddie though, not even to glance at him, knowing that doing so would give away the fact that he was just around the corner. 

“Because I need his help! For fucks sake, Dorian, just let me talk to him!” Eddie’s voice had grown more desperate, cracking at the edges as if he had been crying or were just about to. Something about it distantly pulled at Keith and he stepped over to Dorian, setting a hand on his arm. 

“It’s alright, Dorian, let him in,” he reassured him, looking out the door to see Eddie. His face was bright red and his eyes were puffy from crying, his face still wet with tears. His chest heaved from his shouting, hands clenched at his sides, but there was a moment of relief when he finally saw Keith. 

Dorian looked down at Keith with a frown, hesitating before Keith gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He relented, stepping back to hold open the door for Eddie as he stormed in, quickly locking it behind him. “I'll go put the kettle on while you two talk,” he said, pressing a kiss to Keith's temple and giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, his way of telling him “Yell if you need me,” before he walked to the kitchen. 

Keith nodded for Eddie to follow him to the living room, gesturing to a chair for him to sit in as he took his spot on the couch. He kept his cane in hand, folding his fingers over it, just in case. “What do you need to talk to me about?” he asked, voice flat and devoid of the empathy that Dorian's contained. If Eddie was going to ask for his help, he would have to get used to him as he was and not the extravagant persona he used to know him as. 

Eddie looked almost taken aback by Keith's bluntness, mouth hanging open and blinking at him in surprise and confusion before he got ahold of himself. He grit his teeth together for a moment as if getting a proper look at Keith left a vile taste in his mouth, though Keith wouldn't have been surprised if that was true, but desperation pushed him forward. “Can you fake a marriage certificate?” Eddie asked, words tumbling out of his mouth quickly. 

Keith raised an eyebrow at him, that was not the sort of question he expected, though he supposed that he had no idea what he should have expected. His eyes glanced towards the kitchen for a second, debating on what would be the most appropriate answer. “Yes,” he said after a moment of hesitation. 

There was a glint of hope in Eddie's exhausted eyes, more exhausted than Keith ever remembered them being. “Could you forge one for me and Volt?” he asked, pushing a hand nervously through his hair.

“What do you and Volt need?” Dorian interrupted them, setting a steaming mug down on the table in front of Eddie before sitting next to Keith, He wrapped an arm around his shoulders protectively, still tense and unsure why Eddie had shown up looking for him. 

“I need Keith to get us a marriage certificate,” he told Dorian, ignoring the tea on the table. “Volt, he-” Eddie groaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes like he could hold the tears in. “I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he mumbled, shaking his head in his hands. 

“Eddie, what happened?” Dorian asked, his voice soft and gentle, and Keith was thankful that he was able to provide comfort for the other man. 

“”He had a fucking seizure,” Eddie spat out, slamming his hands down on his knees. “And I wasn’t there for him. He was showing a house to some client. I usually just wait in the car but- but this time I wanted to go buy some supplies for our next project,” he gritted out, “I got the call from the client, asking about what to do with the damn house, like I was just a business partner to him. The hospital won’t even let me in to see him because we aren’t “family.” Un-fucking-belivable, I answered all their questions about him, his health, if anything like this had happened before, and they won’t even let me see him, won’t even tell me how he’s doing. All they would tell me is that he’s in a fucking coma,” He clenched his hands into fists, his shoulders shaking with the anger of retelling it. 

“He’s in a coma?” Dorian said, surprised. “Shit, Eddie, I’m- I’m sorry, that must be horrible for you.” Keith could hear the empathy in his voice, the way he genuinely cared so strongly. 

“And that’s why you need the marriage certificate,” he said, knowing that his tone was too flat, but Eddie had asked him for something specific, if he wanted a performance of empathy and compassion then he would just have to be disappointed. 

Eddie nodded, rubbing aggressively at his eyes to rid them of the tears. “That’s the only way they’ll let me in to see him before he wakes up, and there’s no way of knowing when he will,” he explained, folding his arms over his legs. “Will you do it then? Please, Keith, I’ll do anything you fucking want, I don’t even care. I just need to be with Volt again,” he asked, looking at him with pleading, tired eyes.

Keith could see his fear and desperation on his face, in his posture, the way he breathed. He looked drained, like the anger and grief had taken every ounce of his energy from him, and for a moment he felt bad for Eddie. He couldn’t imagine how overwhelming all of that must be for him. “I will,” he said simply. “You’ll have to give me a day or two, I’ll need to-” 

“A day or two!?” Eddie shouted, standing up suddenly and with enough force that his knee slammed against the edge of the table hard enough that the jolt of it knocked over the mug. Steaming hot tea spilled across the table and Dorian leapt forward to grab it, hissing as it burned his skin. “We don’t have a day or two! Volt hasn’t spent a night alone since I made him, he’s not going to know what’s going on and if he wakes up alone in some strange place he’s going to be scared and not know what to do and-” Eddie gripped his hair and let out a frustrated yell as he curled in on himself. 

“Eddie, calm down,” Keith said, and he knew he had said the wrong thing judging by the look Dorian shot him as he returned from the kitchen with towels to clean up the spill. Before he or Dorian could correct him, Eddie had rounded the edge of the table to grab Keith by his shirt, hoisting him up with more strength than was expected. 

“Don't you fucking tell me to calm down,” he shouted in Keith's face, his face burning with grief and anger. Keith felt dizzy as his balance was thrown off, not enough time to get his cane or feet under himself properly, and a rush of panic hit him as he was reminded of just how hard of a punch Eddie could throw. 

“Eddie!” Dorian yelled as he drove himself between the two of them, shoving Eddie away and grabbing Keith with one arm to balance him, his other hand pressed firmly against Eddie’s chest to keep him at arm’s length. 

Eddie ignored him, shoving his hand away from his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Did your drug filled bender fuck you up that much? Or were you just always lying about being such a fucking prick?” 

Keith swayed for a moment as he clung to Dorian, using his arm to ground himself long enough to get his footing and plant his cane on the floor. Eddie’s words stung a bit, the cruelty with which they were spoken striking at what little insecurity Keith did feel about himself. He opened his mouth to spit something back but Dorian was already at his defense. 

“Shut the hell up, Eddie,” Dorian said firmly, letting go of Keith when he could feel that he was stable again and turning to face Eddie, putting himself firmly between the two of them and grabbing Eddie by the shoulders to hold him in place. He held himself tall and severe, the same posture when he was guarding the house or working at his job, pure intimidation and unshakeable protection. “Don’t you dare talk about him that way. You have no idea what he’s been through or the work he’s done to get better. If you’re going to ask for his help, you’re going to show him some damn respect,” he told him with an ironclad tone that left no room for argument. 

Eddie trembled as he looked up at Dorian, jaw tight and fists clenched as if he really thought that he might be able to fight back against him. The two stood there and stared each other down before Eddie let out a huff like an angry bull and looked away, a hint of shame in his face as he realized how inappropriate he was behaving. “Fine.” 

Dorian nodded once and let go of his shoulders. “Sit back down,” he said, voice still stern but with less outright aggression. Eddie did so, dropping back into his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes flickering to the spilled tea still on the table before looking away again. Dorian let out a small breath and his posture relaxed once Eddie was sat down, turning back to Keith, his eyes full of concern. “Are you alright?”

Keith nodded. His heart pounded in his chest and he could feel his hands shake where they gripped the head of his cane, but aside from the fear fueled adrenaline, he was alright. “I’m okay,” he said, setting a hand on Dorian’s arm to ground himself and reassure him. Dorian’s eyes scanned over him, double checking that he was being truthful, before he let out a soft breath and picked up the towel from where he had dropped it on the table.

“Alright,” he said as he knelt down to soak up the tea, trying to ease the tension in the room. “What were you saying about needing a day or two?” he asked, glancing at Keith over his shoulder as the older man eased himself back onto the couch. 

“If you want a proper marriage certificate, I will need a few days to get what I need to recreate one,” Keith said, looking back at Eddie and blinking slowly, willing his body to relax. “It is not a particularly difficult task, but there are specific materials required in order to make it look authentic.” 

“Wait,” Dorian interrupted before he could continue or before Eddie could say anything, pausing his cleaning to look at Keith again, his eyebrows drawn down in concern. “What do you mean “look authentic?” Are you saying you know how to forge a marriage certificate?” 

“Of course. I haven’t forged a physical one yet, but it can’t be any more difficult than forging other documents like I have,” Keith answered honestly, without any remorse for doing so. Why should he be? Dorian’s mouth pressed into a tense line but he remained quiet, biting back any comments he wanted to make as he stood to get rid of the soaked towel. Keith realized that perhaps Dorian hadn’t understood the full extent of his criminal activities. 

Eddie groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, clearly further upset about this information. “Can’t you just bullshit something? How hard can it be to just get the hospital to believe us?” 

“If you don’t want a physical one, it would be much quicker. It’s fairly easy to plug the information into a database, I did so for me and Dorian without much trouble,” he explained. 

“You did what for us?” Dorian said as he returned, frowning seriously at him. 

“I put it in the system that we are married, just in case a situation like this would arise for us,” he admitted, confused by how upset Dorian looked with the answer. “Are you angry about that?”

“Of course I’m angry about that!” He said, voice raised slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be upset about the fact that you illegally faked our marriage?” 

“Can we please go back to the fact that Volt’s in the fucking hospital?” Eddie ended their argument, snapping the attention back to him. “I don’t care what you need to do, just do it. Whatever’s the quickest and easiest option, I just need to get back to him,” he said, his voice cracking as his emotions flooded back through him. 

Dorian looked at Keith again for a moment, telling him that this conversation was not over and would be continued later, before he sat down and sighed. “Sorry, you’re right, we should be focusing on you.” He remained silent after that, staring down at his own hands, his thumb rubbing over the letters across the back of his knuckles. 

“I can do that for you then, it’ll be faster and should be enough for the hospital to let you in to see him,” Keith told Eddie. “Is there anything else you might need while I’m at it? Do you two have health insurance?” He felt Dorian tense next to him and saw the way his hands flexed as he listened.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie hesitated for a moment, trying to think through things, and Keith could imagine him mentally damning himself for not thinking through this more like he had. “No, I guess we don’t. We really haven’t needed to go to the hospital or anything so we just…never thought of it,” he explained as he trailed off. 

“Then I will set that up for you while I’m at it,” Keith said. “Give me some time, it may take a few hours to get into the systems and get everything properly in place.” He could see the look of disappointment on Eddie’s face that it still wouldn’t be instantaneous, but he ignored it as he stood up. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished,” he told them and started to make his way to the office space that he and Dorian had set up. 

Behind him, he could hear Dorian sigh heavily. “Let me get you something to eat and drink, I know it’s a long drive here and I doubted you stopped to get anything on the way.” 

Keith got to work right away. He booted up his computer, one of the few things he had insisted that he and Dorian each had their own of, and began navigating through the various websites and applications he needed. It wasn’t a particularly difficult process, but it had been sometime since he last hacked into a database or replicated documents, the last time he had done so was shortly after he and Dorian had gotten together again. It very well could have been that the last thing he forged was his own marriage. 

He worked in relative silence, the only sound besides the clicking of his keyboard and mouse being the noises that drifted in from the rest of the house. He had heard the sounds of Dorian moving around their home, their kitchen, the far away beep of the microwave and brief scent of the dinner they had not long ago. Dorian was a good host, kind and caring, and not for the first time is Keith thankful for that aspect of him. It was one of the many things he had always admired about him, even when he had taken advantage of that generosity. Dorian seemed to excel in all the ways that Keith didn’t and there were rare occasions where he felt his own self doubt creep up and became jealous of him, how he was able to be so expressive and social and blend in with the expectations of society. Dorian was good, kind, loved and trusted by many, and he did all of it effortlessly, on instinct. 

Keith could never be like him. Even when he had worn the bombastic, gentleman persona for everyone, he couldn’t compare to the authenticity that Dorian’s caring heart provided for others. He may not have been hated by all the other objects back when he pretended to be normal, like them, but he understood that he was not close to any of them. He would never be the first pick for a celebration, would never be the first person that someone would go to for comfort, for advice, no matter how much he tried to portray himself as being that person. No, that role would always go to Dorian, and for as much as he had previously both loved and resented him for that fact, currently, he can’t be anything but thankful for it. 

There would have been no way for Keith to keep up the act forever, Realization had proven that more than anything else. He sometimes wondered what would have happened had he needed to continue with his fake, saccharine attitude, pretending that he was empathetic, that he understood the emotions everyone else seemed to have. Trapped in that house with everyone else, there had been no escape from that falsehood. The closest he had gotten was when he reached a particularly close breaking point and isolated himself in the crawlspace, receding into the quiet and darkness where no one would come looking for him, sitting alone with the apathy and relief of not having to be expressive, not having to care. 

Would that cycle have simply continued, the same way that his and Dorian’s relationship cycled back then? Keith holding the costume he had constructed together for as long as he could until the pressure built and it all threatened to spill out if he didn’t find a way to release it. He didn’t know. Realization had presented itself and he knew that was the only way to try and break out of that cycle, for better or for worse. That was why he had manipulated the homeowner as he did, had planned his escape while he waited for them to get their SPECS high enough to operate the Dateviators properly. 

It had been explosive, devastating, and the biggest relief Keith had felt in his life. The freedom to escape, to throw off all the social rules that he had trained himself to obey, to not give a single fuck what anyone else thought of him anymore, it had been overwhelming. It drove any other thought from his head as he chased after that high in a mania, the pure rush of being able to leave everything behind after pretending for so, so long. He was reckless, uncaring, unthinking, just desperate enough to find that escape that he didn’t even think of anything else. 

It was only after that initial rush wore off that he began to realize the gravity of his impulsive mistake. Once that outburst started to fizzle out, the excitement of drinking and drugs and theft losing their spark, he understood that he had fucked up. The drugs became less about breaking the rules and more about feeling something, or not feeling something, or maybe simply addiction, it was hard to tell then and still was hard to tell now. The money burned out fast and the theft became less about the apathetic thrill of it and more about needing to survive. The travel stopped being for the excitement of new locations and escaping people who might know him and became about avoiding several different authorities and government agencies that wanted him either in prison or dead. 

He supposed he had Realization and his outburst to thank for the fact that he got to be with Dorian now. When everything came crashing back down around him, there was only ever one place for Keith to go. Dorian had been, rightfully, pissed at Keith for what he had done. Keith wasn’t sure at first if Dorian would accept him back into his life, but thankfully Dorian was a forgiving man, more so than Keith had any right to be forgiven for. 

It had been extremely difficult at first for them to navigate around everything that he had done to Dorian, even after he had explained his reasons behind everything and that he did feel, at least a sense of, remorse for it. He understood that what he had done, both before and after Realization, was wrong, that Dorian didn’t deserve any of it, and that if he wanted to be with Dorian to any extent, he would have to change his behavior. So he did. It was easier than he expected, the fact that he had so thoroughly exposed his lies and act made it so he couldn’t play that role again, he wouldn’t have to, and that was exactly what he needed. 

Keith’s wandering thoughts came to a stop as he paused halfway through typing. He had already been at work for over an hour and realized that he had forgotten to ask Eddie for some of his and Volt’s information. He dug through a desk drawer until he found a pen and sticky notes, holding them together in one hand as he grabbed his cane with the other. Walking towards the living room, he was able to hear the calm sounds of a narrator on their tv, along with the pained sounds of Eddie crying. 

He paused before he got closer, mentally preparing himself for having to break whatever moment Eddie found himself in. Had he been crying the entire time Keith had been gone, or had he stopped and started again? The thought of either option sounded horrible to him, the very few times he had cried had left him exhausted with a headache, and he hadn’t cried this much ever before. Having such strong, overwhelming emotions, being so expressive about them, it was times like this that Keith was thankful for his own low affect. 

A thought occurred to him as he stood there. How would he respond if he and Dorian were in their positions? It was difficult to fully put himself in that situation since he had already ensured that if something like that did occur, they would be able to see each other. Still, he tried to imagine what it would be like if something happened to Dorian, if he were the one in a coma. The thought was upsetting of course, but Keith didn’t think he would be so angry and sobbing the way Eddie was. Dorian would though, if Keith were in that position. He had seen Dorian be angry and cry at much lesser things. It made something twist in him to think of Dorian being so upset, and knowing that he would not be. Would Dorian understand if he saw that Keith wouldn’t cry? Did it make him a bad person to be thankful that he wouldn’t react so strongly himself? 

He firmly set the thought side, it wasn’t doing anyone any good to be questioning his morality in a hypothetical situation. He was helping…a friend, he supposed, even with the bitter past between the two of them, and that was a good thing. Even if he was breaking several laws to do so, legality didn’t mean morality. Their entire existences were based in having to forge documents and identities to cover up the fact that they weren’t fully human, getting uppity over a few laws would just damn them to a life of guilt and misery. 

Keith took the last few steps to cross into their living room, clearing his throat as he entered. Eddie’s head snapped to him and he wiped at the tears on his face. “Are you done?” he asked, voice hoarse but with a hint of excitement. 

“No,” Keith said and he watched that spark of hope drain from Eddie’s eyes, his face falling into a scowl. “I realized I need a few things from you to fill everything out,” he continued monotonously even if he knew that it was probably doing the opposite of reassuring for Eddie.

“Whatever,” Eddie muttered as he looked away from him, fully abandoning his fork on the practically untouched leftovers that Dorian had given him. “What bullshit do you need?” 

Keith held out the sticky notes and pen. “Both of your full names, on your birth certificates and any current IDs, date of births, social security numbers, current address, phone numbers, and email,” he listed out as Eddie took them from him. “Do you need me to write any of that down?” 

“No,” Eddie snapped and Keith could see the way his hand shook as he gripped the pen and began to write. He hoped that his handwriting would be legible to him, he didn’t want to have to return to him empty handed again. 

Keith looked up at Dorian who was still sitting on the couch with an arm draped over the back and he briefly wondered if Dorian wanted him to sit by his side again. When he looked at his face though, Dorian wasn’t looking at him, instead staring rigidly at the tv ahead, his jaw tense. Was he still angry at the revelation that Keith had forged their own marriage? Was he uncomfortable with the entire situation, unnerved at the fact that he was committing another crime? Was he second guessing allowing Keith to stay now that he knew more about what he had done, what he was willing to do? The questions swirled in his mind as he stared at him while he waited for Eddie to write everything down. 

“Here,” Eddie said to get his attention again after a few moments, shoving the pen and sticky notes back to him. “That enough for you?” 

Keith read over the information, double checking that everything was there, pausing when he saw the names for their birth certificates. “You put Watts down for both of your birth names?” he asked, disbelieving. 

“Yeah, I mean, that’s our name,” Eddie said back, confused and defensive about why Keith was questioning it. 

He blinked slowly, taking a moment to process the fact that Eddie hadn’t even considered the implications of sharing a last name from birth. “Normally two people have different last names before they get married, considering last names are typically shared by family members, who are very much not allowed to marry each other,” Keith explained, a slight frustration rising in him at how little thought Eddie had put into his and Volt’s own life histories. 

Eddie’s whole face went bright red, from embarrassment or anger or a mixture, Keith wasn’t sure. “Okay well, sorry I didn’t plan out every little fucking detail of our made up lives in case I left him alone for ten minutes and someone called a fucking ambulance on him,” he said snidely. 

“You should be,” he stated, agreeing with his sarcasm. “This is something you should have planned for, you knew there was a chance-”

Eddie stood up quickly and only then did he realize that he might have been repeating his mistake from earlier. But Dorian was there to stop the fight from escalating, his hand reaching over to grab Eddie’s shoulder and shove him back down on the couch. 

“Keith!” he shouted this time, surprising him. The look on his face was more severe than he expected to have aimed at him. “Leave it be. Do you need anything else or do you have what you needed to get?” 

He thought for a moment, looking between Dorian and Eddie and then back down at the sticky note. “I should be able to work with this. I will update Volt’s birth certificate while I’m at it, just to make it less suspicious on the marriage certificate,” he told them and turned away, still wondering about Dorian’s apparent anger. 

He went back to the office and sat down at his computer, resuming his work. It was mostly a matter of plugging the information that Eddie had provided into the different databases he had given himself access to, connecting them in a way that looked natural and normal and would function. Wherever there were some gaps in non-essential information, he took the liberty to fill in with what he believed to be appropriate information. It took less time to finish the second half of his work, wrapping up within the hour. 

He double checked that all the information was entered correctly, that there weren’t any gaps in the false paper trail he had created for them, that everything was secure and tidy. After finalizing everything and verifying that it had taken, he opened his email and drafted one to Eddie containing all of the files and websites that he might need in the future. He also printed out copies of the paperwork, tucking all of them into a plain folder. 

It had grown dark by the time he walked back to the quiet living room, the television still going on in the background. He held out the folder to Eddie. “Here, you should be all set now. I’ve put everything into the proper websites and databases, emailed you copies of the files and links, and printed out the information that the hospital should accept as proof of yours and Volt’s relationship,” he explained as Eddie took the folder and looked through the papers. 

He was quiet for just a moment before he practically jumped off the couch. “So this is it? I just show them some stupid pieces of paper and I can see him again?” he asked, a mix of disbelieving and hopeful. 

“Correct.” 

Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief and muttered a “Thank you,” as he pushed past Keith, practically sprinting the short distance to their front door. 

“Eddie, wait!” Dorian called after him as he stood up and followed him, Eddie slowed down significantly by the number of locks on their door. 

He groaned in frustration and continued to work through the locks. “What?!” he snapped, desperation covering up any gratitude he could have expressed. 

“We’re coming with you,” Dorian said as he stepped up to him, setting a firm hand on his shoulder to turn him away from the locks. 

Eddie growled at him and shoved his hand off. “I don’t give a fuck if you come or not, I need to go now. Who knows how Volt’s doing in there!” He tried to go for the locks again but Dorian had wedged himself between him and the door. Eddie let out a frustrated yell and slammed his fist against Dorian’s chest, pounding on him like he was still a door keeping him trapped inside. “Let me go! I need to see him!” 

“Give us ten minutes,” Dorian said firmly, hardly disturbed by Eddie’s hits. “I know you haven’t slept all day, and you haven’t eaten anything, barely drank anything. I am not letting you drive alone at night like that,” he explained and Keith watched the two of them from his spot in the living room. 

Eddie made another growl and slammed his hand against his chest one final time before he spoke. “Fine! Ten fucking minutes, as soon as that’s done I’m out of here,” he shouted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against their door. 

“Thank you,” Dorian said before racing through their house. 

Keith looked at Eddie for a second but he just pouted and glared at the wall as he waited impatiently. He followed after Dorian to their bedroom, watching as he rushed to grab clothes from their dresser and shove them into a bag. “Why are you packing clothes if you’re just driving him home?” 

“Because we’re going to stay at a hotel nearby for a few days,” Dorian explained as if it should have been obvious. 

“Why would we do that?” Keith said with a slight frown, displeased at the idea of suddenly staying at a hotel. 

“Because Eddie and Volt are our friends, and I want to be there for Eddie until Volt wakes up. I want to check on Volt too, make sure he’s okay after everything,” he said, a hint of frustration in his tone. 

“There’s nothing you can do for either of them, what’s the point?” Keith argued, unsure what Dorian’s point was. 

He sighed loudly as he stuffed the last bit of clothes into the bag and walked to either side of the bed to unplug their phone chargers. “Because I care about them and want to show them that. Sometimes it’s nice to just have someone be there for you when you’re going through difficult times,” Dorian explained, glancing at Keith for a second before his eyes flickered away. He looked tense, frustrated, ashamed. 

Keith stood there and watched him as Dorian finished grabbing what he needed. He wanted to continue to argue and question him, to try and convince him that there was no point in going to the hospital with Eddie, but he could tell that it was important to Dorian that they did so. “Alright,” he agreed and he could see the way Dorian relaxed about not having to continue to defend himself. 

“Thank you,” he said as he picked up the bag with their belongings. There was a heaviness to the words and Keith wondered if he felt guilty for forcing him into this social situation. He simply nodded in response, keeping quiet because he knew it was likely he might say the wrong thing at this time. Dorian walked over to him and his touch was light as he brushed his fingers over Keith’s cheek, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Anger? Guilt? Sadness? Keith couldn’t tell. Dorian leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead and it felt like an apology. “Come on, I doubt Eddie will wait the full ten minutes,” he said and pulled away, that unreadable expression hidden underneath his determination to help his friend. 

Keith followed him back to the front door where Eddie was, fortunately or unfortunately, still standing and waiting. He continued to glare at them as he pushed himself from the wall. “Can we fucking go already?” he said, and Keith was further confused by why Dorian insisted on going with him. If Dorian was trying to make Eddie feel better by being there for him, it didn’t seem like that was going to work, not with the attitude that he was giving him. 

“Yeah, we can go,” Dorian said and started to undo the locks. 

“Finally,” he muttered as Dorian opened the door and he shot out of it, heading for the beat up, unremarkable car that was parked behind their own. 

Dorian opened the back door of their car and tossed in the bag he had packed, quickly getting into the driver’s seat and waiting as Keith rounded the car and got in as well. Once they were both buckled in he turned the engine on and looked in the rearview mirror down their drive way, watching as Eddie got into his own car. It seemed to take Eddie several tries before his car finally started, but as soon as it did he was pulling away from their house and Dorian backed out of their driveway to follow him. 

The first portion of the drive goes by in silence, just the soft sound of the radio keeping the two of them company. Keith didn't mind, just propped his chin in his hand as he looked out at the dark suburban streets that eventually gave way to even darker highways. It made his skin prickle slightly and he closed his eyes, ignoring the darkness outside. He probably could have fallen into a light sleep like that, dozing away for the rest of the ride. 

Dorian's voice eventually broke the quiet. Keith knew he had been tense the whole time while he drove, but he wasn't sure which thing might have been bothering him and didn't feel like prying him open like he used to. He didn't need to pry him open like that anymore, like he was a stubborn oyster and Keith a hungry otter. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Dorian said and Keith slowly opened his eyes. 

“Tell you what?” He asked, unsure which thing Dorian was talking about. He turned his head to look at him, trying to make out his features in the headlights of neighboring cars. He caught glimpses of him with the passing of oncoming traffic, his eyes locked ahead on Eddie's tail lights but brows drawn down, jaw clenched the same way he clenched the steering wheel with his hands. 

Dorian let out a loud sigh and Keith thought he might look disappointed. “About any of it,” he said, his voice strained and short. “Forging documents, forging our marriage. I would have liked to know these things, Keith, to know what kind of crimes my “husband” was committing.” 

Keith stared at him for several long seconds as he thought about what Dorian was saying. “I didn’t realize it would upset you so much,” he said, and Dorian scoffed at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be upset about not knowing that we’re apparently married? Don’t you realize how important that is?” 

“No,” he answered honestly. “We’ve already had to forge and lie about so much of our lives in order to blend in, I don’t see why this is such a big deal.” 

Dorian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, the sound of the turn signal filling the pause in their conversation as he checked his mirrors to switch lanes after Eddie. “It’s not about the forgery, though I would like to know just so I can be aware, just in case-” He cut himself off, both of them knowing what Dorian was implying. Just in case you get caught. “You didn’t even tell me. What good is being married if I don’t even know? What if something did happen to you and I didn’t realize I could see you?” His voice cracked and Keith felt a sinking feeling in his chest. 

“I assumed you would try like how Eddie did,” he tried to explain. “Or that you would realize I had done it, it seemed like an obvious thing to do.” It was difficult to explain his thought process in a way that Dorian would understand. “I apologize, you’re right. I should have told you that I did that.” 

Dorian shook his head slightly, taking a hand from the wheel to push his hair back into place. “It’s not just that you didn’t tell me, I…I wish we could have just gotten married instead,” he said with some hesitation. “I mean, we have all the paperwork that would have allowed us to have a normal wedding, without the additional forgery.” 

Keith was quiet for several moments as he thought about Dorian’s words, turning them and their meaning over in his head. “Why is that so important to you? Why would it matter if we had a wedding and did it through traditional means, the results would be the same.” 

“Because-” Dorian’s voice came out sharp and he quickly bit his words back, his mouth pressed tight as he took in a shaking breath through his nose. “Because a wedding would have been nice. Proposing, picking out rings, writing our vows. It would have been fun to plan all of that out, it would have made me happy,” he said, his voice soft and sad as he explained why he was upset. 

Keith stared at him as he took Dorian’s words into consideration, desperately trying to empathize with him and drawing a blank. He could understand that it was important to Dorian, that clearly it was something Dorian had wanted, but he still struggled to understand why. He looked away from him, watching the road ahead of them. “I hadn’t thought about that. What was important to me was getting the legal documentation sorted out in case of an emergency, I didn’t want either of us to be stranded like Eddie is. A wedding….” He stopped, wondering if he should admit to what he was thinking. 

When Dorian didn’t say anything, he knew he was waiting for him to continue. He sighed quietly, uncertain if what he was going to say would make Dorian feel better or worse. “A wedding didn’t seem important to me. It wouldn’t have changed anything about our relationship. I didn’t forge our marriage just because I love you, I don’t need a legal document or a ceremony to know that or to show it. I did it because I know others take it more seriously to have a piece of paper with our names on it.” 

He looked back at Dorian and the lights from the other cars reflected off a tear that rolled down his cheek. Keith frowned, his chest feeling heavy. He reached over and set a hand on his thigh, giving him a light squeeze to try and convey some semblance of his sincerity. “I do love you, Dorian. A wedding, a marriage certificate, a ring, none of that makes any difference to me. What matters to me is that we’re together, and that you’re happy, even if I don’t understand why certain things make you happy. And if those will make you happy, then we’ll do them. I’m sorry for not taking that into consideration sooner.” 

Dorian sniffled and wiped at his face, shaking his head slightly. “We don’t have to. I know you don’t care for events and you’re right, it doesn’t matter if we have-” 

“No, it clearly does matter,” Keith said firmly, squeezing Dorian’s thigh again. “I don’t particularly care for those things, but they’re not a huge pain in my ass either. You do care though, you’re upset that you didn’t get those opportunities, and I want to give that to you. I want to make you happy.” 

Dorian thought for a moment before he smiled slightly, giving a small nod even as he sniffled again. He took a hand off the wheel and reached down to take Keith’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together and giving him a tight squeeze. “I’d like that,” he choked out. 

Keith smiled softly and squeezed his hand back. “It’s settled then. Once everything has calmed down, we can start planning our wedding.” 

“We can’t plan our wedding yet,” Dorian said, his smile growing more as he glanced at Keith for a moment. “We have to have the proposal first.” 

Keith blinked at him slowly, trying to figure out how sincere Dorian was. “Is this not a proposal?” he questioned. 

“No, not a proper one,” Dorian said firmly, though he still had that smile. “I want to do it, propose to you, with a ring and down on one knee and everything.” He let go of Keith’s hand to flick on the turn signal as they followed Eddie off the highway and took it again once they were finished with the curve. “Do you mind if I do that?” 

Keith gave him a soft laugh, raising their hands to press a kiss to the back of Dorian’s. “I would be honored if you proposed. It would take a lot of pressure off me as well,” he admitted, letting their hands fall back to Dorian’s lap. 

Dorian grinned, his smile glinting under the street lights that had returned to the road.

Chapter Text

The rest of the drive goes by more easily. Mostly quietly, though Keith did turn up the radio a little to fill the silence. It wasn’t much longer before they could see the hospital and followed Eddie through the twists and turns of the streets around it. Dorian followed him to the parking garage, waiting behind him as he pushed the buttons needed to get a parking pass and enter. 

“Are you going to park here?” Keith asked as Dorian pulled up after Eddie entered and worked the machine. 

“No, I want to make sure he gets in alright,” he replied as the arm raised and let him pull forward. Keith nodded in pretend understanding. 

They followed Eddie as he drove through the parking garage until he found a spot. Practically as soon as his car came to a stop he was jumping out, folder in hand. Dorian barely had time to get the window rolled down to call out after him. “Call or text us when you get in, please?” he asked. 

Eddie didn’t even spare them a word, waving off Dorian’s concern as he sprinted away. Dorian sighed as he rolled the window back up and started to make their way back to the exit. “I don’t think he’s going to call or text you,” Keith said after a moment.

“Hopefully he will,” Dorian replied, pulling up to the exit and inserting his parking pass, paying the handful of cents that it cost them.

Keith shrugged, not invested in arguing with him about if Eddie would call them or not. “So what is the plan now? Are you still planning on staying at a hotel?” 

“Yeah. Could you look up to see what ones are nearby?” he asked as he started to drive aimlessly. 

He wanted to say that it wasn’t his idea to get a hotel nearby, but knew it wouldn’t do him any good. If Dorian had set his mind on doing this, on taking care of a friend, nothing could change it. Instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to start looking at hotels. “What hotel do you want?” 

Dorian shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, nothing expensive though, I don’t know how long we’ll stay.” 

Keith looked through the nearby hotels, comparing prices, features, and locations until he found one that seemed satisfactory. “How’s this one?” he asked when they stopped at a red light, passing his phone to Dorian to look at. 

Dorian looked over the hotel’s information for a second before he nodded. “Looks good, can you give me directions?” 

They drove around town, Keith telling him which turns to take, until they got to the hotel they had picked out. Dorian navigated the parking lot until he found an open spot and pulled in, shutting off the car and pocketing his keys. 

When Keith climbed out of the car he winced, his leg stiff and aching from sitting in the car for several hours. He held himself up with his cane and a hand on the car, taking a few seconds to gently work his leg back and forth to try and loosen it. He heard Dorian on the other side stretch with a soft groan himself before he opened the back door and took out the bag he had packed for them. 

The car beeped as Dorian locked it and walked around the back to Keith, his frown lit from the lights of the parking lot. “Are you okay?” 

“Just stiff from the ride,” Keith told him, setting his foot back down and pushing away from the car, his cane taking more of his weight than usual. 

“Here,” Dorian said as he shifted their bag to his other shoulder so he could walk on Keith's left side, offering his now free arm to him for more support. Keith took his arm in his own, allowing Dorian to take some of his weight and help stabilize him as the two of them crossed the parking lot. 

Upon entering the hotel lobby, the receptionist at the front desk looked up from his computer. “Hello! What can I do for you?” he said with a smile, voice surprisingly cheerful considering the late hour. 

“We wanted to see about getting a room for a few days,” Dorian said as they stepped up to the desk. 

“Sure thing, one or two beds?” he asked as he started to click on the computer. 

“One is fine.” 

“Awesome,” the receptionist said, pushing up the round glasses on his face. “And how many days will you be staying with us?” 

“Oh, um,” Dorian cleared his throat. “Are we able to go day by day? We’re in town because a friend is in the hospital and we’re not sure how long he’ll be there,” he explained. 

Keith watched as the receptionist frowned. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. We do offer daily bookings, though they do cost a little more than booking for a period of days,” he explained, voice soft and gentling. 

“That’s alright,” Dorian said with a small nod. 

The receptionist typed on his keyboard for a moment. “Can I get a name and phone number for you?” 

Keith was bored as he stood there listening to Dorian rattle off his information. He stepped away from his side to grab one of the pamphlets that rested in a stack on the desk. It listed the different features of the hotel, all the amenities that came with the rooms, free breakfast from 7am-10am, an indoor swimming pool, a recreation room. He wondered if Dorian would let him go for a swim while they waited around, perhaps he would even join him. 

“Alright, here are your key cards,” the receptionist’s voice pulled him back to what they were doing and he pocketed the pamphlet as he rejoined Dorian, taking one of the key cards as it was handed to him. “Please call the front desk as soon as possible if you lose them so we can deactivate them and reissue you a new one,” he explained. “And please let us know before 3pm if you wish to stay another night so that we can plan accordingly. If you have any questions during your stay, feel free to give us a call.” 

“Thank you, we appreciate the help,” Dorian said with a smile as he offered his arm to Keith again. 

“No problem! Enjoy your stay and have a good night, I hope your friend gets better soon,” the receptionist said with a wide smile and a parting wave as the two of them walked towards the elevators. 

When they got to their room, Dorian let them in with a swipe of his key card. The room was nice, big without being too spacious. Dorian sat their bag down on the dresser against the wall and opened it up, pulling out their phone cords to get them plugged in. 

Keith walked over to the kitchen area and started looking through things. There was an instant coffee maker, the kind that you put the little pods into, and several varieties of such pods in the drawer underneath it, along with sugars and creams. There was a microwave, of course, and the drawers and cupboards contained all the basic dishes and cutlery that could be expected. There was no stove or oven, probably to encourage guests to order room service instead of cooking for themselves. Inside another drawer was a small collection of snacks such as crackers, cookies, granola bars. 

The inside of the fridge was mostly empty, save for a fully stocked minibar on the bottom. Keith knelt down on his good leg, ignoring the ache in his other one, and looked through the different drinks they offered. Plain water, wines, liqueurs, mixers, even a few pre-made cocktails in tiny bottles. He reached in and grabbed a miniature bottle of white wine, cracking it open as he used his cane to help him stand back up. He took a long drink from the bottle, downing half of it easily and let out a breath afterwards. Damn, he needed this after the events of today. 

“They’ve got the wifi password in here when you want to get on,” Dorian said and Keith turned around to see him sitting on the bed with a binder in his hands. “Also a tv guide, services, prices for snacks and drinks,” he continued as he flipped through the pages before he looked up. A frown instantly fell on his face as he looked at the bottle in Keith’s hand. “What is that?” 

“Relax, it’s just one drink,” Keith said as he pulled out a chair to sit at the table in the room. “It’s been a long day.” 

Dorian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, snapping the binder closed and tossing it back on the bedside table. “Keith, we’ve talked about this,” he said, sounding tired. He probably was after the events of that day, not to mention that Keith wasn’t quite sure what time it was. He glanced at the clock in the room and saw that it was half past two in the morning, no wonder Dorian sounded so exhausted. 

“You didn’t want me to keep alcohol in our home or go to bars, this is neither of those,” he argued and quickly finished off the bottle before Dorian could try and stop him. He already felt better, this was the first drink that he had in months and it definitely took the edge off from having to do so much for Eddie and Volt. 

“I don't want you to have any alcohol,” he explained with frustration. 

“Well that's no fun,” Keith said back as he tossed the empty bottle at the trash can, a tiny spark of satisfaction fizzling through him quickly when it went in. 

“It's not about having fun, Keith. It's about keeping you from-” he bit his tongue, shame scowling his features as he looked away. 

“From what? Binging, moving onto harder drugs, overdosing, getting arrested?” He snipped back, a sudden bristle of defensiveness rushing through him. 

“Yes.” Dorian looked back at him, his face tight with several emotions. “I don't want to be the one in Eddie's position anytime soon.” 

Keith blinked slowly, his mind turning over Dorian's words. He pictured how Dorian would look in Eddie's position, how he would cry and shake and stay awake for days if something happened to him. He was already reacting strongly just to it happening to someone else, surely it would be even worse if he was experiencing it directly. He didn't want to see Dorian like that, or know that he had been put through so much. 

“I will be fine, my love. You needn't worry so much,” Keith tried to reassure him, though even as he said the words he could tell that neither of them fully believed it. Even now he could feel himself craving another drink as the buzz of booze traveled through his system. “We should be going to bed,” he changed the subject, using his cane as he pushed himself to his feet, wobbling more than usual thanks to the drink.

“I can't go to bed yet, Eddie hasn't texted me still,” Dorian said, glancing at his phone as if he might have missed the notification. 

Keith frowned slightly at him. “Dorian, he's not going to text you back if he hasn't already. For all we know he may have fallen asleep as well, hopefully so given how tired he was. Staying up all night will do you no good.” He walked past the bed to their bag and began to look through the clothes Dorian had packed until he found something to sleep in. 

Dorian sighed behind him. “You can go to bed, I'm going to take a shower," he told him as he stepped up next to him, searching for his own clothes as Keith started to change. 

He undid his pants and pushed them halfway down his thighs before sitting on the bed to prevent risking a fall. He pushed then the rest of the way off and let them drop to the floor as he grabbed his sleep pants and pulled them on, standing briefly to pull them up over his ass before he sat down again with a soft sigh, both from the sudden tiredness that hit him and the mild frustration he felt at the whole situation. 

As he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the ground with his pants, Dorian finished searching for his own clothes. He glanced at Keith for a second before stepping over and leaning down to give him a soft kiss, his fingers brushing across his shoulder for a moment. “I love you,” he said but his voice was heavy the same way his look was, not his usual smile or occasionally neutral expression. It was like he had something more on his mind but wasn't sure how to say it, so the best he could do was remind Keith of his love. “Get some good sleep.” 

“I love you too,” Keith replied, giving him a small smile to reassure him that he meant it. “And you get some sleep as well, don't stay up all night.” 

“I won't,” Dorian sighed and Keith wasn't convinced that he meant it. Dorian gave his shoulder a light squeeze before he turned and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door most of the way but leaving it cracked ajar just a little. 

Keith stared at the door for a few seconds before a yawn suddenly broke from him. The wine must have been making him more tired as it settled a cool tingle through his skin. He looked between the two side tables until he found the remote for the television and turned it on to begin flipping through channels. They were different from the ones at home which was an inconvenience, but soon he came across a game show and paused, watching for a little bit to see if it was at all interesting or entertaining before deciding it would do. He sat the remote on Dorian's side table and laid back against the pillows. 

The blaring of Dorian’s alarm shocked Keith from his sleep. It made him jump at first but when he recognized the sound he let out a deep groan and pressed his hand to his ear to block it out. It only went on for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity until Dorian shut the damn thing up. He let out a sigh as he was able to relax again, dropping his hand from his ear in order to pull the blankets up further. 

“Come on, we’ve got to go see Eddie and Volt,” Dorian said as he rolled over to press a kiss to the back of Keith’s head before he sat up with a groan. 

Keith slowly cracked his eyes open and was quickly confused by the lighting of the room. The light on Dorian’s side of the bed had been left on, but that was the only light in the room at the moment. The window, despite the curtains being parted halfway, was almost totally dark outside, only the faintest glow of the sun casting a light haze to the world. “What fucking time is it?” he mumbled. 

“Six-thirty,” Dorian answered as if that were a normal time to wake up when they had gone to bed at nearly three in the morning. “Visiting hours start at seven and I wanted to get there early to check on Eddie.” 

Keith groaned again. “That’s fucking ridiculous, Eddie’s not even going to be awake himself. Did you even get any sleep last night?” He carefully rolled over to look at Dorian who was already sitting on the side of the bed. 

“I got a quick nap in,” he said as he stood up and stretched, several of his joints popping as he let out a tired groan. 

“It’s still too early. Breakfast doesn’t start until seven either, at the very least we need to eat before we go,” Keith argued, as he slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. “It would be hypocritical of you to skip breakfast when you’ve been nagging Eddie to eat,” he pointed out, watching as Dorian walked around the bed to grab clothes for himself. 

He sighed softly, his shoulders slumping as he dug through their bag. “You’re right. By the time we get around, they should be open,” Dorian accepted, knowing that Keith was right. 

Keith rubbed at his eyes, trying to wake himself up. I need another drink, he thought to himself, remembering his wine from last night, which for all he knew might still be in his system a bit, or adding to his irritation. He glanced over at the fridge for a second, before throwing the blankets back to start working his way out of bed. “I’m going to have a coffee,” he told Dorian as he grabbed his cane and stood. 

“Sounds good,” he said and leaned over to give Keith a quick kiss before he headed towards the bathroom. Keith followed him on his way to the kitchen, making his way to the coffee machine as Dorian went to the bathroom and closed the door. 

Keith moved quickly once the door clicked shut, knowing that he only had a few minutes before Dorian would be back out. He grabbed one of the coffee pods, hardly paying attention to the flavor, and popped it in the machine, shoving one of the paper cups that were next to the machine underneath and hitting start. Then he opened the fridge, quietly and carefully, and knelt down to grab the small bottle of whisky that he remembered being in there. 

Already the room was beginning to smell like coffee as the machine brewed the cup and Keith closed the fridge. He preemptively cracked open the lid and impatiently waited as the coffee continued to brew. He looked through the drawer with the coffee supplies again, finding packets of sugar and creamer that he could add. Finally, the stream of coffee came to a pittering stop and Keith grabbed the cup, ignoring the way the heat stung his hand. 

He poured a portion of the coffee down the sink, making sure to line it up with the drain so that there wouldn’t be any residue left behind. Once there was enough room in the cup again, he took off the lid to the whisky and poured a decent amount in. He recapped the bottle and knelt down again, opening one of the lower cabinets and tucking it away. It was unlikely that Dorian would open it before he was able to grab it again. 

He stood up again, his leg trembling as he pulled himself up with his cane and the counter, and ripped open several of the sugar packets to dump into the coffee, taking a stir stick and mixing it. He did the same with a few packets of creamer until the drink was a light brown. Just as he was grabbing a lid to put on top, he heard the bathroom door open. 

“Smells good,” Dorian said as he took a seat at the table and Keith turned to face him, spiked coffee in his hand. 

“It’s quick too,” Keith said and he took a small sip from his drink, flinching at the scalding burn of too hot coffee on his mouth. “And hot,” he added, the taste of the drink dulled from his scorched taste buds. “Do you want one?” 

Dorian shook his head. “I’ll be fine, I’ll grab one from breakfast if I feel like I need it.” He glanced at the clock to check the time, frowning to see that it was still early. 

“Suit yourself,” Keith said as he sat down on the other side of the table, taking another small and hesitant sip from his too hot coffee. “How long do you plan on staying here?” 

Dorian sighed. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I want to be here for the two of them, make sure they’re both okay. What do you think?” he asked as he looked at Keith.

“I think we didn’t need to come to begin with, but I understand that you wanted to help. I think once you know for certain that Eddie is safely at the hospital, we should head back home,” he said honestly, no sense of obligation holding him to staying here. 

Dorian frowned as he listened to him and looked down at the table. “I want to stay a little longer than that. I was thinking until Volt’s condition begins to improve.” 

“We don’t know when Volt’s condition is going to improve, or even if it will. It could be later today, it could be next week, it could be next month. It’s stupid to hang around here when we can do absolutely nothing,” Keith said, a sense of irritation prickling under his skin. He didn’t understand why Dorian was being so stubborn, so committed to stewing around in the boring uncertainty of waiting for Volt’s possible recovery. 

“We can be here to comfort Eddie, to give him support and help him take care of himself. He’d never been good at that until Volt, hell, he still struggled with that even after Volt was there to remind him,” Dorian argued, rubbing a hand against his cheek and resting his head in his palm with a yawn. “And hopefully it won’t be that long, hopefully he’ll wake up soon.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” 

Dorian sighed and shook his head in his hand. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” He glanced at the clock again. “You should probably get ready soon, breakfast will be opening up in a little bit,” he changed the subject, not wanting to continue to think about the option of if Volt’s recovery didn’t go well. 

Keith clenched his jaw for a moment, disliking the way Dorian refused to acknowledge the other possibilities as well as being told what to do. He took a sip from the coffee to see if it was cooler now, and when it didn’t instantly burn him he took a long drink from it. He really did need this drink if he was going to be dealing with this shit for more than a day or two. 

He finished getting around for the morning, taking his time and sipping on his coffee while he changed and got ready. The gentle buzz of the whisky in his system was helping, easing some of the pressure and tension he was feeling from having to do so much for others. 

Breakfast is quiet thanks to the early hour, only a few other guests milling about. The food was hot and fresh and of decent quality, about as much as one would expect. They ate their fill, Dorian scarfing down his breakfast quickly while Keith took his time, enjoying the syrup flooded waffles he had gotten himself. He finished his coffee while he ate and felt more relaxed, nodding easily when Dorian asked if he was ready to get going. 

The hospital isn’t far and it isn’t long before Dorian was circling through the parking structure until he found a spot. When they walked into the hospital, Dorian paused to look at a map of the building. Keith stood next to him, their arms linked together, his weight leaning more heavily on Dorian than usual, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind. Once Dorian had figured out where they’re going, Keith followed him as he walked. 

It wasn’t until Dorian started to lead them to a shop on the first floor that Keith started to question where they were going. “What are we doing here?” 

“I’m hoping that they’ll have flowers and such, something to bring to Eddie and Volt to make them feel better,” Dorian replied as if it should have been obvious. Keith blinked at him slowly and Dorian sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, but I want to get them something.” Keith kept his mouth shut, the alcohol in his system making it easier for him to mask and ignore the social demands. 

They wandered around the shop for a few minutes, Keith simply tagging along as Dorian looked at bouquets and cards. At first he would look at a card and hand it to Keith, asking if it seemed appropriate. He learned quickly that Keith didn’t care what the cards said, each one he said would be acceptable but his apathetic tone didn’t convince Dorian. Soon he found a card that he decided was good enough and plucked a bouquet of chrysanthemums from the display. 

He went to pay for them and hesitated when he saw that they had a small selection of drinks as well, ordering a fresh black coffee. He asked to borrow a pen as he paid and quickly wrote inside the card before passing the pen to Keith who signed it without reading, knowing that it didn’t matter what the inside said, he trusted Dorian to know what people wanted to hear. 

With the gifts secured, they finally started making their way through the hospital, stopping at a reception desk to ask where Volt was since they didn’t know his room number or even what wing he would be in. Dorian’s face paled slightly when they informed him that he was in the ICU and gave them directions. It took a long time for them to navigate through the corridors and elevators of the hospital before they finally found where they were looking for. 

Dorian approached the ICU’s desk and gave the nurse working a small smile. “Excuse me, we were hoping to be able to visit a friend who was admitted yesterday,” he explained. 

“Sure thing, do you know what room he’s in?” She asked him, her high ponytail swaying as she turned to type on the computer. 

“No, we don’t. His name is Volt Watts, his husband Eddie should be with him too,” he said. 

She looked up the information on the computer, clicking through the system for a minute with a soft humming as she searched. “I don’t have any visitors listed for him, I’ll have to go ask if you’re allowed to come back,” she told him. “Can I have your names?” 

“Sure, tell him Dorian and Keith are here. We told him we would be visiting today so he should be expecting us,” Dorian answered. The nurse nodded and stood from her desk, walking off down one of the hallways. 

Keith stood there quietly, staring off as he waited while he felt Dorian fidgeting nervously, probably scared of if they would be allowed to visit or not, or of what they would find once they did. It only took a minute before the nurse was back with a wide smile on her face, one that was clearly meant to be reassuring to any nervous guests. “Eddie said you can come in, I just need you to fill out your information on the visitor’s list,” she explained as she sat back down and grabbed a clipboard with a pen attached to it. 

Dorian asked Keith to hold the coffee for a moment and he took it in his hand, feeling himself wobble slightly without the stability of Dorian’s arm along with his cane. He leaned a hip against the desk while he waited for Dorian to write everything down and take the visitor stickers that were handed to him. He passed the clipboard back to the nurse who checked over the information before nodding. “Volt’s room number is 116, just down this hallway and the second door on the right. We do ask that visitors try to keep quiet and checkout before you leave,” she instructed. 

“Thank you, we really appreciate it,” Dorian said as he took the coffee back from Keith and let him link their arms again, only to ask him to hold it again when they got to Volt’s door so he could knock. 

He paused for a moment before cracking open the door to glance in, like he wasn’t sure if this was the right room, before finally opening the door enough that they could enter, Dorian taking the coffee again as the door shut behind them. Dorian’s smiling when he speaks, but there’s a tension to his words and body as he does so. “Morning, we never heard from you last night so we’re visiting early.” 

Keith carefully walked to Volt’s bedside as Eddie stood up with a groan. “Sorry, it slipped my mind once I got in,” he admitted with a sigh. 

“I told you so,” Keith said to Dorian as he looked over Volt, taking in his current state with mild curiosity. 

He heard Dorian huff behind him, but he continued to talk to Eddie. “That’s alright, I’m just glad to see you got in in one piece. We picked these up for you, though we weren’t sure how you take your coffee so it’s just plain black coffee. There were some of those tiny creamers and sugar packets that I could go get if you want,” he said, and Keith glanced over at them for a second to watch Eddie take all the gifts that Dorian had bought for him. 

“That’s alright, Dorian, black coffee’s fine,” Eddie replied as he looked over the flowers and cards, taking a moment to read it before setting it down on the table next to Volt’s bed before he took a sip of the coffee. “Thanks, Volt’ll like the card, and the flowers.” 

Keith turned back to look at Volt and the various machines he was attached to as Dorian continued the conversation. “I’m glad. How is he?” Not well, Keith thinks to himself. There’s a large, angry bruise spread over his face, probably from where he hit the floor when he fell. That was the least of his problems though, judging by everything that was coming off of him. 

“As well as he can be, considering,” Eddie explained as Keith looked over the equipment that Volt was attached to. He was on a ventilator, his chest rising and falling with the whir of the machine and Keith had a moment where he felt bad for Volt, remembering how much his throat had hurt after he had been on one after a particularly close overdose. “Apparently the seizure either wouldn’t stop or he just had a bunch of them one right after the other when they were bringing him in, but the meds seemed to get it under control. His brain waves look better, they told me.” 

Keith glanced as Eddie settled on the bed next to Volt and held his hand before returning his eyes to Volt, looking over the tangle of wires connected to his head that must have been what they were using to measure said brainwaves. “They’ve got him sedated to give his brain a chance to settle and heal the damage the seizures might’ve caused,” Eddie continued to explain as Keith followed the wires to the monitor it was connected to, observing the squiggly line with no real knowledge of what it meant. “We don’t know when they’re gonna be able to wake him up yet, it’s a whole process with the…With the ventilator and the sedatives.” 

“And how are you doing?” Dorian asked. 

“That really matter?” 

“It does,” he insisted and Keith tuned the two of them out, much less interested in listening to Eddie talk about how he was feeling. He watched the heart rate monitor for a few moments before getting curious and turning to walk behind Dorian and around to the foot of Volt’s bed. He picked up the clipboard that hung on the edge of it and began reading through the notes and documentations on it. 

“What’re you doing?” Eddie interrupted. 

Keith paused and blinked at him, taking a moment to realize that Eddie was indeed talking to him. “Looking through his chart,” he answered, a hand still holding the page he had flipped up. 

“Keith!” Dorian snipped and he looked at him, noticing the anger in his expression as he frowned at him. “Put that down, that’s private.” 

“It’s alright,” Eddie said with a shrug before Keith could argue with him. “Not like it isn’t being looked at by everyone anyway.” Keith glanced between the two of them for a moment before accepting Eddie’s permission and going back to reading through the chart despite Dorian’s frustrated sigh. “Wanted to thank you directly, by the way, for uh…For everything you did for us…And sorry for all the shit I said about you,” Eddie said awkwardly, like the apology was something he wasn’t used to giving. “You’re alright, I was just lashing out.” 

Keith thought over the apology for a second, a part of him thankful for Eddie being humble enough to apologize but also he hadn’t been looking for an apology. He was here whether Eddie apologized or not, it wasn’t like his ego had been horrifically bruised after his angry outbursts the night before. He simply shrugged as he continued to look at the chart. “Okay,” he acknowledged, overall neutral about the apology. 

He continued to scan through Volt’s chart until the list of medications he was on caught his eye and his eyebrows raised as he let out a low whistle. “Oh they’ve got him on the good stuff huh? I could’ve fucking flown on some of this,” he said as he looked over the sedatives Volt was on, recognizing a few of them. For a brief second he wished he was also on them instead of just the whisky from his coffee. 

“Keith! Stop it!” Dorian snapped, louder and more angry than before. Keith looked at him in a moment of surprise, caught off guard by the extent of his anger when he felt like he had done nothing wrong. Was it so rude to point out the kinds of drugs he had taken before? He thought he had been making an attempt at connecting with Volt in some way. 

Any response that Keith could have had gets cut off when Volt’s heart rate monitor beeps faster and Eddie glances up at it, a hand rubbing at his forehead like he was trying to massage away the headache they were giving him. “If you two are gonna fight can you at least do it in the hallway instead of in front of him?” he sighed as he sat the coffee down to grip Volt’s hand in both of his. “Don’t know how much he can hear but I’m trying to keep the environment positive so he doesn’t take on more stress than he already has.” 

Dorian went quiet for a moment, his posture tense from being scolded. “I’m sorry. Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine, it’s normal for his heart rate to fluctuate but it could also mean he’s stressed, there’s really no way of knowing. I’m just doing what I can for him, don’t want him to be scared,” Eddie explained. 

Keith watched as Eddie attempted to comfort Volt before he looked at Dorian. “Do we need to go into the hallway, Dorian?” he asked plainly, uncertain if they were fighting or not. 

Dorian sighed as if the question was ridiculous but didn’t yell at him again. “No, but would you leave his chart alone?” 

Keith started to put the chart back on the hook at the foot of the bed, leaning on his cane more for a moment as the movement made him wobble. “You can take the other chair,” Eddie offered. “I’ll just be sitting on his bedside unless a nurse asks me to move anyway.” 

He hummed in acknowledgement, actually thankful for the opportunity to sit. He pushed the chair closer to Dorian instead of against Volt’s bed and grabbed the remote that was attached to the bed from where it rested on the table, bored with having to just sit here and chit chat. He messed with the buttons as he tried to figure out the tv, passing it to Dorian when he gestured to take a look at it. The sound was low when it turned on and neither of them bothered to increase it, understanding that it was best if it were quiet. The soft sound did disguise the noises of Volt’s machines and Eddie’s mumbles as he talked to him though. 

None of them say anything for a while as Keith and Dorian took turns flipping through channels on the tv, trying to find something interesting to watch until Volt’s heart settled. Eddie kissed the back of his hand before speaking again. “Why did you guys get back here so early anyway? That’s a hell of a long drive, can’t imagine making it first thing in the morning without a good reason.” 

“Dorian made us book a hotel in town,” Keith said before Dorian had a chance, the statement mostly neutral but with a hint of irritation. 

“I wanted to be close by in case you needed anything,” Dorian added. “And we came in early today because I was worried when I never heard from you last night, I wanted to be sure you got in and that everything was okay.” 

Keith blinked slowly as he swept his eyes over to look at Eddie. “I told him that you wouldn’t text us. He didn’t listen.” 

“Sorry, there was just a lot to do when I got in,” Eddie said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So you heading back home after visiting hours then?” 

“No, we’re staying in the hotel until Volt wakes up, in case you need anything in the meantime,” Dorian answered, as if that was obviously the right thing to do in this scenario. 

“We…Don’t know exactly when he’s gonna wake up,” Eddie says, his voice unsettled and uncertain. “We’re hoping soon, but they can never know. Even once they stop the drugs it might take him a while to be awake, and even longer to really be present. Then who knows how all this shit might’ve affected him,” he rambled, losing track of the initial topic. Once again, Keith was thankful that he wasn’t as emotional as him, that he could stay level headed when talking about topics like this. 

“And it will be good for you to have someone nearby, just in case,” Dorian guided the conversation back. “The hotel is letting us rent the room on a night by night basis, so it’s fine, we have the savings anyway.” 

“Doesn’t make sense burning through your savings like that,” Eddie argued. 

“What’s the point of having savings other than using them when friends are in trouble?” Dorian asked earnestly. It made Keith roll his eyes once, intentionally expressing his irritation with the situation. He loved Dorian for the fact that he was so open and earnest, but his stubbornness in them could be frustrating at times. It was just like talking to the locked door he used to be, except that no amount of Keith’s effort could break through. 

“You could stay at our place instead to save some money, we’re sure as hell not using it while he’s in the hospital,” Eddie offered. 

“We couldn’t impose like that, the hotel is fine,” Dorian insisted. 

“No really it’s fine if you guys stay at our place, you’re just wasting your money staying at a hotel and someone’s gotta eat the produce in the fridge,” Eddie pushed back. 

“Eddie’s right, Dorian,” Keith chimed in, voicing his opinion on the situation. As much as he would have liked the third option of simply returning to their own home, staying at Eddie and Volt’s would be cheaper, probably more comfortable too. “If you want to stay indefinitely, it would be a lot easier staying in their home if they won’t be in it anyway.” 

Dorian frowned as he considered the offer. “But what if you want to go home to get some rest?” 

Eddie barked out a laugh at the absurdity of the question, even Keith could tell it was a stupid one to ask. “I’m only gonna see the inside of our house again when I’m walking Volt back into it. Seriously, I’ve got a spare set of keys you can borrow and everything. Save the money if you’re gonna worry about us anyway.” 

“I guess we could keep an eye on your house if you really won’t mind,” Dorian gave in though he didn’t look happy about it, almost trying to make it sound like they would be house sitting instead of staying as guests. “But if you want us out early just tell us, I wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.” 

“It’ll be fine, Dorian,” Eddie waved him off as he pulled his keys from his pocket and worked off the spare key to their house. “Volt wouldn’t want you having to stay at a hotel when you’re in town for him, he’d be mortified he wasn’t hosting,” he said as he handed the key to Dorian. Keith imagined how Volt would be if he were actually hosting the two of them as guests, that dazzling smile on his face that was difficult to tell where the host persona ended and genuine personality began. The thought made his skin crawl, reminded too vividly of all the times he had to plaster on a fake smile to seem friendly and charming so as to win the other objects’ favors, or at least avoid their ire. 

Dorian took the key and put it on his own keychain like it was the most serious thing in the world at that moment. “Thank you, we’ll take good care of it while you’re away,” he said, fully convincing himself of the house sitting cover up to alleviate his own guilt. 

“Yeah I know you will,” Eddie said with a smile. 

Chapter Text

After their visit at the hospital, the two of them drove back to their hotel to gather their belongings and check out before it was too late to skip the night. It didn’t take long for them to grab the few things that Dorian had packed and talk to the receptionist before they were back in the car and driving to Eddie and Volt’s place. 

The first thing that Keith noticed as they pulled up to the address that Eddie had given Dorian was that it was bigger than Dorian’s house. Even the garage was bigger than his was, easily big enough to fit two cars. Without a remote to open the garage door though, Dorian parked his car in their driveway instead. 

“Nice place they have here,” Dorian said appreciatively as they got out of the car. He grabbed the bag from the back and slung it over his shoulder as he offered his arm to Keith to walk them to the front door, using the key Eddie had given him to unlock it. 

Their home was big and had clearly been renovated in several areas to fit their wants and needs. It was spacious but not empty, clearly lived in by a couple who didn't feel the need to keep the aesthetic minimalist. In fact, there wasn't any particular aesthetic that they seemed to abide by, some of the furniture refurbished and simple, other decorations new and flashy. Despite the lack of coordination, the home didn't look disjointed or tacky, but rather a cohesive collection of items that meant something to them. 

Additionally, the walls and shelves were decorated with many photos, most of them pictures of Eddie and Volt, usually together. Vacations, anniversaries, birthdays, a simple night out, there seemed to be a photo for almost any occasion. It reminded Keith of Dorian's own home and how many pictures he had littering the walls, though Dorian's were more varied, not just pictures of the two of them but of him and his other friends as well. 

The two of them walked through the first floor of the home, learning the layout and where things were. Keith opened the door that he assumed open to the garage and looked inside. It was a well organized chaos of both a garage and workshop, half started projects tucked against the wall, sawdust shavings around the floor near the table saw, safety gloves and goggles left out. What surprised Keith the most was the second car they owned. “Dorian,” he said over his shoulder to get his attention. “They actually have a nice looking car in here,” he commented as Dorian walked up behind him. “I wonder why Eddie drove that shitty one all the way to us instead of this one.” 

“Might be a project car that he likes to show off how he got it working. Or mostly working, seeing as how he struggled to turn it on,” Dorian said as he looked over the garage for a moment as well. “Come on, we still have to find the guest room,” he said as he turned away and Keith distantly followed him, his eyes wandering over more of their home. 

The kitchen was larger than Dorian's own as well, but at a first glance it looked less used. It was clean in the way that something that goes unused is clean, a sort of stagnant air to it. In the sink were dishes from when Eddie and Volt last had breakfast, still waiting for them to come home yesterday afternoon and wash them. 

“Oh,” Keith heard Dorian say in confusion as he opened another door. “I thought this would have been the guest room.” Keith followed his voice down a hallway and looked inside the room he was standing at the threshold of. 

It was the bedroom that Eddie and Volt must sleep in, judging by the unmade bedsheets, the half full laundry basket, and the phone chargers still plugged in. There was almost an eerie sense to seeing the room in its current state, unknowingly abandoned and waiting for its owners to return.

Keith slipped past Dorian and stepped into their room, taking a thorough glance around. “Keith, get out, we shouldn’t be in here,” Dorian said sternly, frowning at him from the doorway. 

“Relax, I’m just looking,” he replied as he ignored him, walking over towards the other door in the room. He opened it to find a small, en suite bathroom. Despite the small space and awkward positioning in the floorplan of the house, it was roomy enough to fit a shower that was big enough to hold a shower chair in it as well. It made Keith think about the shower chair that Dorian had gotten for him after he had fallen once and he wondered if it had been Eddie or Volt who insisted on it, if they had decided to get one because of the others’ disability or for their own good.

He heard Dorian approaching behind him and stepped aside so he could look in the bathroom too. “Do you think Eddie redid the walls and plumbing to fit this here? I can’t imagine it was built here originally, looking at the layout of the rest of the rooms,” Dorian said. 

“Maybe, since they chose to make this their bedroom instead of upstairs. It’s probably easier for them instead of having to go up and down the stairs every day,” Keith replied, suddenly appreciative of Dorian’s own single floor home making it so they didn’t have to decide where they slept. 

“Probably,” Dorian agreed and stepped back, walking back towards the hallway. “Come on, leave their bedroom alone, let’s check out the upstairs.” Keith reluctantly followed him, he wanted to look around their bedroom more, see how the two of them lived, but he knew Dorian would get angry if he insisted on snooping. 

Dorian waited at the base of the stairs for Keith to go ahead of him, taking the stairs slowly and using both his cane and the handrail for support. The whisky from his morning coffee was mostly out of his system, both fortunately and unfortunately, but the pain in his leg and his limited mobility, not to mention his lack of balance, still made stairs difficult. Dorian followed behind him, a protective act that he would do if the stairs were too narrow for him to walk besides Keith and assist him instead. If Dorian was behind him, he could easily catch and help stabilize Keith if he did fall. 

Once the two of them were at the top of the stairs, Keith paused for a second to take a quick rest and Dorian placed a hand on his lower back, a gentle show of comfort. “Do you want to sleep in the guest room up here? You could sleep on the couch if the stairs are too much,” he offered. 

“Absolutely not, I’d rather have to take the stairs than sleep on the couch. Besides, how well would I be able to sleep if I didn’t have you to wrap around me?” Keith replied, giving Dorian a small smile to show that he meant his teasing words. 

Dorian smiled back and nodded, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good point,” he said back, starting to guide Keith by the hand on his back. The guest bedroom was easier to find thanks to the upstairs being smaller than the main floor. They knew they had the right room when Dorian opened it to reveal a mostly empty room with a crisply made bed. It seemed slightly bigger than their own, but that might just be the illusion of the empty space around it. The view out the window was lovely and there was an attached bathroom as well, except that this one was clearly designed to be there. Keith thought it was interesting that they had chosen to convert the master bedroom into the guest room, but he wouldn’t complain. 

Despite being designated the guest room, it seemed that it had also been used for an extra storage space as well. There were a few small boxes and containers set on the dresser closest to the door, as if one of them had set them down just to get them out of the way quickly. In the closet and overflowing from it were several other proper storage boxes, and Keith walked over to open one of the plastic containers. Bundles of string lights and extension cords, hooks and ornaments, decorations for the winter. 

“Keith, leave it alone, don’t touch anything,” Dorian said as he set the bag on the foot of the bed. 

“I won’t touch anything, I’m just looking,” he said as he opened another container, more seasonal decorations in that one as well. “If they were really secretive and personal, perhaps they shouldn’t have stored it in the guest room.” He heard Dorian sigh and closed the box he had been looking through, turning back to look at him. “We should have something to eat soon,” he told Dorian, changing the subject. 

“We probably should have gotten something on the way here,” he said as he sat down on the bed, running a hand over the comforter to feel it. “Could still head back out and get something.” 

“Why would we go out to get something to eat? Eddie said we could have what’s in the fridge, he even encouraged us to use it up,” Keith asked, wondering if Dorian had forgotten. 

“We shouldn’t just help ourselves, we don’t know what food is important to them or that they were saving,” Dorian argued back as he leaned his elbows on his knees and sighed like the weight of living in someone else’s home was bearing down on his shoulders. 

Keith blinked slowly and stepped over to him, pushing his fingers through Dorian’s hair to coax him to look up at him. “I don’t understand why you won’t listen to something that someone tells you. Eddie said we can have the food in their home, so why are you so hesitant to eat it?” 

“Because,” Dorian started and then hesitated for a second, “it’s rude to just make ourselves at home while they’re gone. We should try to stay out of their stuff as much as we can.” 

“I don’t think Eddie cares about that right now, he has bigger issues to worry about than if we’re eating the lettuce in their fridge. If it really tears you up so much, you can offer to pay them back when we leave, but until then, I don’t see any reason to be so distraught about it,” Keith stated, trying to gently change Dorian’s mind. He was holding back the frustration he could feel creeping up inside him, knowing that it would do nothing to express it to Dorian besides make them argue further. 

Dorian sighed again and thought for a moment, before he finally gave in. “Fine, but we’ll go grocery shopping later to have our own food,” he compromised and Keith took a step back as he stood up. It wasn’t the answer he was looking for from him, but he supposed it was good enough for now. 

“Come on, I’ll see what I can make with what they’ve got,” Keith offered and gave Dorian a small smile to reward him for not arguing further, patting his hand against his upper arm to encourage him to follow as he made his way back downstairs. He paused at the staircase, allowing Dorian to go first so he could wait at the bottom as he followed behind. 

“Do you want me to help?” Dorian offered as Keith walked into the kitchen, looking around at the ample amount of space he had to work with. 

“My dear Dorian, you know how I am about having help in the kitchen,” he said as he opened the freezer to start taking in their options. “Why don’t you figure out how to work their tv while I cook? Find something for us to watch,” he continued as he briefly dug through the freezer before giving up on finding any ingredients among the frozen meals. 

“Alright,” Dorian said, sounding a little disappointed, like the whine of a puppy being told it couldn’t have a treat. He moved forward to press a kiss to the back of Keith’s head, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a squeeze for a few seconds, like he was going to be lonely if he was just a dozen feet away. “If you need help with anything, let me know,” he said before letting go and walking to the living room. 

 Keith listened to the muffled sound of the tv as Dorian turned it on and began to flip through channels while he opened the fridge. Their food options were more limited than Keith had anticipated as it quickly became obvious just how little Eddie and Volt actually cooked in their kitchen. He had to push aside boxes of takeout and leftovers to find the wilted produce that Eddie had mentioned. Nothing rotten or unusable, but clearly should have been used sooner if they had wanted to make them into something fresh. Keith could work with it though, he could throw everything in a pot or pan and make some sort of dinner. It wouldn’t be anything exciting, but it would be good enough. 

He opened one of the drawers of the fridge and came to a quick pause as he looked at the collections of wines and beers and liqueurs. It was like the memory of the fact that Eddie and Volt ran a bar had escaped him, maybe it really had until now, but it seemed that those bartending skills hadn’t left the two. He had sobered up from his morning whisky, a nice drink with dinner would be wonderful. 

Keith looked through the different alcohols, debating on which one to have. The decision was made when he picked up a bottle of wine and found that it was partially empty already. Surely they wouldn’t mind if he and Dorian finished it off, Eddie would probably understand, given the stress they were going through as well. The only disappointment in the choice was that it was a red wine, something that Keith didn’t particularly enjoy, but it would be good enough to get a buzz going again and that was really what he was looking for. 

He left the wine in the fridge for now as he looked through the cabinets for a moment until he found a box of pasta noodles, then grabbed a deep pan from another cabinet and got to work. Cooking, he had found out while living with Dorian and going through his post-bender recovery, was something that he enjoyed. The planning and process of creating a meal brought him a sense of satisfaction, especially once he began cooking for himself and Dorian and got to see the enjoyment on his face as well. It was a small way that he could repay Dorian for everything he did for him, to take care of him in return. 

He hummed softly as he became used to the new kitchen and location of everything, moving through it easily. The knife he used to cut up tomatoes was somehow both sharper and duller than he expected, occasionally cutting through the over ripe skin with ease and other times simply squishing against it. It wouldn’t matter, thankfully, once they were incorporated into the sauce and pasta. He wasn’t surprised to find that what spices and seasonings they did have were barely used at best, there was even one that he had to take the seal off of in order to use it. It wasn’t long before he had thrown together a surprisingly good meal, all things considered, and he was looking through the cabinets for plates and wine glasses. 

Keith looped the strap of his cane around his wrist as he picked up the plates and brought them out to Dorian. He looked up from his place on the couch and smiled at him. “It smells good,” he commented as he took the plates from Keith, setting each of them on the coffee table. “Looks good too,” he said as he looked at the meal Keith had managed to make. Despite his reservations about using the food and the kitchen, he didn’t seem to mind as much now. 

“I think I did an alright job,” Keith said as he slipped his cane off his wrist to lean against the couch. “Let me go grab some drinks for us.” He walked back to the kitchen and opened the fridge to pull out the bottle of wine he had found, quietly popping the stopper on it. He hoped that if Dorian didn’t know about it ahead of time, the fact that the drinks were already poured might help convince him to not be so upset at the thought of alcohol. He thought for a moment as he looked at the filled wine glasses before picking one of them up and drinking from it. A few extra sips wouldn’t hurt. After a few quick mouthfuls he sat the glass back down and refilled it. Had it been his own wine he would have just drank straight from the bottle, but he wasn’t certain if they would finish it off before Eddie and Volt came home, though they probably would. ‘

Drinks ready, he resealed the wine with the stopper and put it back where he had gotten it from. He picked up the drinks as he slowly walked back to the living room, being sure not to spill any with his unsteady steps. He didn’t feel like having to clean red wine out of their carpet. 

Dorian looked at him again as he walked in but the smile on his face fell quickly when he saw the two glasses Keith carried. “No, we’re not stealing their wine,” he said firmly. 

“It’s not stealing,” Keith said plainly as he sat the glasses down on the table next to their plates. “It’s one drink, and besides, the bottle was already opened, it would start to go off if left in there for weeks,” he argued. 

“I don’t want you having any more alcohol, it’s bad enough that you already snuck some from the hotel last night,” Dorian argued back, his look severe as Keith sat next to him, ignoring the food and drinks entirely. 

“It’s one glass of wine, and things have been stressful for us. I understand that you’re worried about Eddie, but it’s been a lot for me and you as well.” Keith leaned forward and grabbed his glass, half expecting Dorian to snatch it out of his hand. He looked at him, taking in the wrinkles on Dorian’s forehead as his eyebrows drew down, staring at the glass in Keith’s hand. “Come on, my love, unwind a little. You don’t have to be so tense, you’re acting as if you can’t relax. It’s not like I’m suggesting we do body shots off each other,” he tried to convince him, saying something more absurd to show Dorian that he could always be worse if he chose to. 

Dorian continued to frown at him for a few more seconds before he sighed loudly, frustration rounding out the edges of his breath. “Fine, but this is the only one. I don’t want you to use this as an excuse to start drinking again,” he said as he took his own glass. 

Keith gave him a thankful smile. “Here is to hoping that Volt recovers quickly, for Eddie’s sake,” he said as he held out his glass towards Dorian in a toast, using the compassion to ease Dorian’s guilt and doubts and distract him from the fact that he would certainly be having a few more sips of the wine before they left. 

Dorian looked over him for a moment in hesitation before returning a small smile back to him and clinking their glasses together. “To Volt and Eddie.” 

They went to bed at a much more reasonable time than the day before, not forced to stay awake all night, and Keith was now able to plan for the fact that Dorian wanted to check in with Eddie in the morning. He’s still tired when Dorian wakes him up just shortly after sunrise, but at least he’s not forcing him to get to the hospital for their visit as soon as the visiting hours start. The same routine happened the next day, and the day after, and for a few more days. 

It began to wear down at Keith. In the short amount of time that he had been back with Dorian, things had been calm after he started his recovery. There hadn’t been anything dramatic to unsettle the gentle lives they were beginning to find with each other, no sudden changes or unexpected incidents. Keith had thought he would get bored of a simple life with Dorian, but that hadn’t happened yet. He had found that he enjoyed the quiet with him, spending time together, going on dates every now and then. It wasn’t the high octane, exciting, stimulating feeling like he had been searching for during his bender to try and fill the emptiness of his days, but he grew to realize that he didn’t feel the drive to act on those impulses when he spent time with Dorian. 

Maybe it was because they were practically made for each other, maybe it was because Dorian was so unlike himself that it balanced him out, maybe it was nothing at all, Keith had no idea, but there was something about him that made it so he didn’t feel the need to search for those highs. He knew that if he did chase after them then he would lose Dorian, and he didn’t want that, so it was worth it for life to be a bit dull as long as that meant they could be together. Once Dorian had understood that Keith was still Keith, even after the lies and manipulation and abandonment, that yes, everything he had done in the house had been one long, unending, exhausting performance of masking, of pretending to be like everyone else, that didn’t mean that everything he had done had been totally fake. 

The affection he had shown Dorian had been real, or at least an attempt to perform the affection that he knew Dorian wanted and deserved. Keith might not have known exactly what love was, didn’t feel the overwhelming power of it that other objects seemed to, but he understood that he felt good around Dorian, or at least he didn’t feel bad, and that he wanted that to continue, even if it cost him some effort and energy. Was that not indicative of some form of what others called love? If he wanted Dorian to be his, if he was willing to always struggle against his natural instincts, if he was willing to lie and manipulate and keep his true self concealed in an attempt to keep him happy, was that not love? 

Was it not love that he was here at Dorian’s side now, despite how he thought it was fucking stupid to stay at his friends’ house for an unknowable amount of time when there was nothing they could do? Was it not love that he tagged along to the hospital visits despite how much he didn't want to, that he didn’t see the point but understood that Dorian did? Was it not love to hide his frustrations and the familiar pressure growing under his skin, pressure that he had not felt so oppressively since he had blown it all off in one massive, catastrophic blaze? Was it not love to try and protect Dorian from his own apathy by finding some other secretive way to let off some steam? 

All of these thoughts and questions circled his head as he laid there in Dorian’s arms, staring at the wall that was lit by the light from the hallway. It was getting harder and harder for him to actually sleep, and even if he did, he still felt tired the next morning. He felt restless, his skin prickling like it would tear at the edges. He needed to do something, anything, to relieve the growing dread in his bones, his heart pounding like a ticking time bomb. 

Keith moved carefully as he lifted Dorian’s arm from himself, shimmying his way out from his protective grasp. He was thankful that Dorian was a heavy sleeper, a fact that made it difficult for Dorian to allow himself to fall asleep in the first place, the idea that he was always supposed to be on guard and ready for something to happen made him resent the fact that he didn’t wake up at the drop of a pin. Free from his arm and the sheets, Keith sat on the edge for a moment, trying to plan what he wanted to do. His mind hissed and rattled with the compulsive need to release that pressure and it was difficult to form any coherent thoughts. A drink would help. 

He stood and took a step before coming to a sharp halt, turning to reach back and grab his cane. He didn’t want to fall while sneaking around. If Dorian found out that he ransacked the house, he would be pissed, more so than he already seemed to be. If Keith somehow fell and hurt himself, not only would Dorian be pissed, he would be fucking furious in that pitiful, concerned way of his. Plus, it would suck if he ended up in the hospital as well, though it would probably help Eddie and Volt get a moment away from Dorian’s all consuming care. 

The light in the hallway made it easy to start navigating the house that he was still familiarizing himself with, and it was a relief to be able to take the partially lit stairs rather than try to wobble down them in the dark. At the bottom of the stairs he flicked on the light switches nearby, not caring about how bright everything would be. If Dorian woke up and caught him sneaking a drink, he would be just as angry in a well lit room than in a darkened one, turning the lights on at least helped him walk around the mismatched furniture and kept away the crawling sensation of the dark. 

Keith made his way directly to the kitchen and opened the fridge, snatching up the bottle of vodka that he knew was in there. He hurriedly unscrewed the cap on it, the motion making his cane hanging from his wrist clink against the bottle, the sound of metal on glass echoing off the tiled floors and walls. He drank straight from the bottle, swallowing quick mouthfuls until the harsh burn and awful taste became too much for him to power through. He almost wretched as the feeling lingered in his mouth even after he swallowed, his face scrunched in disgust. He should have planned a chaser, he thought as he recapped the bottle and put it back in its place. There was a carton of orange juice and he grabbed it quickly, not wondering about how long it had been sitting in the fridge since it was opened. 

The orange juice was enough to wash away the majority of the aftertaste, leaving a different kind of burn on his tongue. He put the carton back where he got it from and shut the fridge, opening the freezer instead. Among the abundance of frozen meals was a container of ice cream that he had spotted earlier this week when they first arrived. Salted caramel, disappointing but the sweetness helped cover up the flavor more. 

Keith stood in the kitchen for several seconds and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He hoped that the booze would help him fall asleep and stay asleep, but that tension still made his skin feel taut, like it was drawn too tightly over his bones. It would carry over to the next day if he didn’t do something to relieve it, sneaking alcohol would only do so much. He started to wander through the house, looking for some kind of trouble. 

He paused in the living room and looked at all the pictures that hung on the walls. Eddie and Volt looked happy together, both of them smiling in each image. It’s a sharp contrast to the images that Dorian had on his walls of the two of them, Dorian’s grin wide and almost squeezing his eyes shut while Keith stood by him with the faintest hint of a smile. Dorian understood that he didn’t express himself the same way as everyone else, understood that the grand smiles he had worn in their former house were perfected imposters of emotions. He didn’t make Keith feel like he needed to perform anymore, at least not to the extent that he previously had been. But these last few days, Keith couldn’t help but feel like he was being crowded back into that corner again. 

He could tell that Dorian was frustrated with him, with the fact that he wasn’t behaving “correctly” with Eddie and Volt. Dorian cared about his friends so much, maybe too much if you asked Keith, but he wasn’t a particularly good measure of how much was too much. Keith’s apathy for the other couple was something that Dorian felt he had to compensate for, to apologize for the fact that he wasn’t normal. He didn’t understand why though. Sure he wasn’t as compassionate as him, but he had gotten Eddie what he needed without any questions, without stashing it away as a bargaining chip for later. Was that not enough when that was all that had been asked of him? He had even tagged along with Dorian, accompanying him to each visit, growing more and more tired from the energy that it took to do so, especially when he could see the disappointment in Dorian’s eyes and hear it in his voice anytime he didn’t show the proper amount of empathy or concern or excitement. 

Keith turned away from the living room, standing in the hallway and thinking for a second before he decided to explore their bedroom, that was something he wasn’t supposed to do. Asides from the first day when they were looking for the guest bedroom, Keith hadn’t been back in Eddie and Volt’s room, even when Dorian offered to bring Eddie clothes and stuff from home, he had been the one to gather those instead of Keith. 

He opened the bedroom door and flicked the lights on, standing there and staring for a few seconds. The bed was still unmade, sheets and blankets thrown haphazardly back from when Eddie and Volt crawled out of it a few mornings ago. He stepped closer and sat a hand down on the comforter, feeling the texture of it under his hand. It was nice, Eddie and Volt certainly didn’t hold back on spending the money for high quality items when they cared about it. His hand slid up the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets until he reached the pillows, sinking his hand into the cushions to feel how firm they were. He wondered which pillow was whose, if they ever shared a pillow, if they always slept on the same side of the bed. 

He grabbed the top pillow from each side of the bed and swapped them to the other sides. If they did sleep on different pillows, now they wouldn’t be. He wondered if there was a difference in the pillows’ textures that they would notice was different, or if they would sleep in ignorance. Taking the sheet in his hands, he pulled it up to the pillows, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. He did the same thing with their comforter, making their bed not because he felt like they would appreciate it, he doubted they would even notice. But he knew that making someone else’s bed while you’re a guest in their home was not something that normal people did, that they might even feel uncomfortable if they found out he had done so. It was so subtle and so mundane, but it was also intimately against the rules and that is what helped ease some of the pressure from his mind. 

Keith sat down on the bed, taking a moment to rest. He was just beginning to feel the alcohol starting to work into his system. It probably would have been a good idea to make his way back up the stairs and slip back into Dorian’s arms to sleep, but he didn’t feel like doing that yet. He looked at the bedside table he was sitting next to and reached over to open it, taking a look inside to see if he could tell if it was Eddie’s or Volt’s. 

It was surprisingly empty. There were a few sticky notes and scraps of paper, nothing interesting written on any of them, and some loose change that had probably been found in a pants pocket after running it through the laundry, a couple of pens. A small planner sat towards the front of the drawer, partially tucked under some of the other items and it made Keith wonder how much it was actually used. He flipped through it, deciding that it must be Eddie’s based on the simplicity of it and the shaky hand writing. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting in it, mostly notes about what projects were due by when, client meetings he and Volt would have to attend, dates of importance to the two of them. 

Keith put the planner back in the drawer and pulled out a fabric fingerless glove. There was a velcro strap around the wrist of it and he looked it over, figuring it must be a wrist brace of some sort to help with Eddie’s hand tremor. He took the glove and slipped it onto his own hand, pulling it down until the tightness of it became uncomfortable. He wasn’t able to fully get it down past the heel of his palm, the velcro strap totally useless since it couldn’t get any tighter with how it was stretched out over his hand. The soft flesh of his hand pushed at the seams of the glove, the tightness of it digging into his skin and threatening to cut off the circulation to his fingers. Keith worked the glove back off himself and dropped it back into the drawer, moving things around again as he looked to see if there was anything else interesting. 

A red and white box, tucked all the way against the back wood of the drawer, caught his eye. He reached in and grabbed it, staring down at it in the palm of his hand for several seconds. A box of cigarettes, still wrapped in the plastic, unopened. If Keith could have any question about if the drawer was Eddie’s before, he certainly didn’t now. Keith sat them on top of the table and looked through the drawer more intentionally, searching to see if there was a lighter with the cigarettes as well. Unfortunately it seemed like there wasn’t, perhaps it was a strategy Eddie had used to make it more difficult to smoke the cigarettes, a barrier in the way so that he couldn’t be impulsive. Dorian had done many things like that to Keith when he was in recovery. 

He closed the drawer and grabbed the cigarettes, using his cane to stand. Getting to his feet made him sway for a second, remembering the vodka he had chugged earlier. He took a second to steady himself before leaving their bedroom, shutting off the light and closing the door behind himself as he walked back to the kitchen. There had to be a lighter in one of the drawers, judging by how many candles they had around the house. He went through several of them before he finally found a long lighter, the kind used for candles and grills. It would do the job. 

Keith made his way to the back door, unlocking the two locks on it, almost unused to the ease of opening the door compared to the intricacies of Dorian’s locks at his house. Eddie and Volt had a sizable back yard and a well built entertainment area that was partially fenced in. There was plenty of seating and a large table, along with several smaller ones and a grill. The short fence had a rocky pathway that led through the gate and into the rest of the backyard where some flowerbeds and bushes laid. They weren't particularly cared for, the bushes large and untrimmed while the flowerbeds held a randomized mixture of small flowers and weeds. It looked like the garden was a project that they had started and either abandoned or had yet to return to. 

Keith looked along the inner and outer wall of the backyard until he found the light switches that turned on their outside lighting, filling the entertainment area and spilling over towards the rest of the garden. He grabbed one of the smaller chairs and lifted it over the stone path through the gate, carrying it to the far end of the backyard. He placed it near the tall privacy fence that circled the entire backyard and took a seat facing the house. 

The sound of the cellophane ripping from the sealed package sounded louder than any of the other things he had done that night. He crumpled the thin plastic up and shoved it into his pocket before whacking the pack against his palm a couple of times and opening the box. The scent of the tobacco was faint and Keith wondered how old the cigarettes were. Eddie had quit smoking back when Volt first showed up, as far as he knew he never started them again. Maybe the stress of Realization had him pick the habit back up, or at least consider it. 

Keith put one of the cigarettes in his mouth and took the long lighter, realizing that it would probably feel ridiculous to someone else but not caring himself, and carefully lit the end of it, being cautious to avoid setting his facial hair on fire. He took in a deep breath, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs, and exhaled slowly, his other hand falling into his lap with the lighter. The cigarettes were really fucking old, he decided, judging by the stale and bitter taste, like dust and burnt hay, but he wasn’t smoking them for the taste alone. Already he felt the pull of relaxation as the nicotine entered his system, working along with the alcohol. He took another long drag and sighed as he let it back out, letting his head fall back as he relaxed. 

He felt like he could breathe properly for once since they had been here. Each day had dragged on, uncomfortable and boring, as Dorian fussed over Eddie and Volt. Even when he and Dorian were sitting in their home, just existing, there was a tension that hung in the air as Dorian repeatedly checked his phone for any updates. Not to mention the visits, almost every day, Dorian dragging Keith along even though they both knew that he wouldn’t provide anything useful to the conversations with Eddie. Most of the time he sat in his chair and flipped through the tv channels until he found something he could doze off to. It was painfully dull, and the fact that there seemed to be no end in sight made the pressure under his skin build even more. If he hadn’t been sneaking drinks at night and in his morning coffees before they went to the hospital, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. The alcohol made the demand of being polite less irritating, made it easier to hide just how much he didn’t care about the situation. 

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at the house as he continued to smoke. The first floor was lit up, nearly each window filled with light except for Eddie and Volt’s bedroom. The second floor was dark, except for some light that streamed into what must have been the guest room where Dorian lay sleeping. He stared at the window, wondering how easily Dorian would be able to see him out of it on the chance that he woke up before Keith was able to sneak back under the sheets next to him. 

He didn’t feel guilty for doing any of this behind his back, though he knew that a normal person probably would. Sneaking a few drinks and cigarettes wasn’t that big of a deal considering what he was having to deal with, and especially considering what he could be doing instead. The cigarettes and alcohol were legal at least, he knew that was important to Dorian. He figured that he would rather have him letting off some steam doing this instead of the other things he might do if he waited and waited and tried to push through, tried to play along with Dorian’s performance without self medicating in some way. He didn’t want to do that to Dorian, didn’t want to lash out or go off in a way that would cause any real damage to either of them. This was the best option. 

When the first cigarette ran out, Keith lit a second one, snubbing out the butt of the first one on the stone pathway and keeping it in his hand. He wished that he and Dorian would just go home. Keith didn’t want to be sitting outside, buzzed and sneaking cigarettes from Eddie’s bedside table. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game by drinking and smoking in secret, that it could easily lead him back to several other addictions and reckless behaviours that would piss Dorian off and might get himself killed. But the alternative of shoving everything down, of holding together a shitty, old suit of forced smiles and kindness until it tore apart at the slightest breeze, felt more dangerous. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, and Keith knew he could hold out longer for Dorian if he gave into these smaller, much less harmful impulses rather than letting that pressure build. 

He didn’t want the booze or smokes, he hadn’t felt much of the impulse to do either of them until now. What he really wanted was to be back in Dorian’s home, to fall back into their daily routine, to cook in his own kitchen with his own ingredients, to lay out on the couch with Dorian and watch tv in quiet together, or go on dates to some place Dorian wanted to take him. He had done his part to help Eddie and Volt, he didn’t understand why he had to keep playing along just because Dorian felt…he wasn’t even sure what Dorian felt that made him stay, couldn’t put himself in his position to understand what was going through his head. 

The second cigarette burned out and Keith wondered for a moment about lighting a third before deciding against it. He didn’t know how long they would be stuck here, and he might want another one later on another stressful night. Better to save them than smoke them all in one go. He put out the second cigarette the same as he did the first and put the pack in his pocket before he looped his cane back around his wrist and stood. The alcohol was fully in his system now and he wondered if he had made a mistake by walking all the way out here, but it was too late to go back now. He grabbed the lighter and picked the chair up, walking slowly along the rocky ground, feeling his wobbly steps become more unsteady from how uneven the ground was. It took him far longer than he would have liked, but he wasn’t going to risk falling out here and having to yell for Dorian, but he was back in the entertainment area of their yard and able to set the chair back down in its place. 

He flipped off the outside lights as he went back inside. He tossed the lighter back into the drawer he got it out of, keeping it in mind for when he would need to grab it again. Walking back through the house, he turned the lights back off as he made his way to the stairs, standing at the bottom and looking up them for a second as he thought about the best way to climb up. One at a time was the only answer he could come up with, going incredibly slow and using both his cane and the wall as support. He slumped against the wall, shoulder and hand braced against it to hold himself steady, and lifted his cane up each step before following behind it. It was incredibly slow moving, but it got him to where he needed eventually. He let out a sigh when he got to the top of the stairs before making his way down the hall to the guest room. He glanced inside, using the light from the hallway to check on Dorian. 

He looked like he hadn’t moved since Keith left, and chances were he probably hadn’t. Keith wondered if Dorian had caught him sneaking around and was pretending to be asleep, but quickly dismissed that. Dorian wasn’t the type of person to play games like that, if he had found Keith drinking and smoking, he would have just confronted him about it then and there.

Keith quietly walked over to his side of the bed, sliding his cane off his wrist and leaning it against the table next to him. He pulled the sheets back further and slipped underneath them, laying so that he could lift Dorian’s arm and set it back over himself while he faced him. Dorian didn’t seem to stir but his hand reached out, instinctively pulling Keith closer to him. It was amusing and Keith pressed as close to him as he could, wanting just as badly to be held by him. He stared at Dorian’s face for a few moments, longing to be back in their own bed instead of several hours away. He cared about him, he loved him, he wanted to be here by Dorian’s side to do what Dorian felt needed to be done, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it up. But he would try, he would try to last out until Dorian finally decided they could go home. 

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, Mr. Watts isn’t accepting visitors today,” the nurse told Dorian as she returned from Volt’s room and took her seat. 

“What? Why?” Dorian asked, and Keith could tell he was unsettled by the denial. He felt his own simmer of frustration, his new daily spiked coffee only doing so much. They got up and came here all just to be told to go away. 

The nurse shook her head slightly, giving Dorian a look of pity and comfort. “He didn’t specify, he just said that he didn’t want anyone in right now,” she explained as much as she could. “You can always try calling ahead of time and asking so you can know before you leave home,” she said, trying to offer them advice. 

Keith watched Dorian’s jaw tense as he thought, he was sure Dorian must be fighting between being polite to the nurse and his need to see his friend. “Alright, thank you. We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, his words short. “Let’s go,” he said to Keith, though he didn’t even have to, Keith was already turning with him to walk back to the elevators. 

“Why do you think Eddie didn’t want us to visit?” Dorian asked as they waited. 

Keith shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee. He could tell that Dorian was going to be in a particular mood, one he could usually handle, but with the amount he had been playing along with Dorian and his compassion, he knew it would be more difficult. He saw Dorian give him a disappointed look out of the corner of his eye, but before he could comment on Keith’s lack of concern for the situation, the elevator doors opened and the two of them paused their conversation as they rode down with the other passengers. 

When they got to their floor and stepped out, Dorian instantly picked back up. “Do you think something happened?”

“How should I know?” Keith said back bluntly, worn out from having to be pleasant and tending to Dorian’s worry. 

Dorian let out a big sigh and dropped it, finally understanding that Keith didn’t want to talk about it. The tension flowing off of him was palpable, a blanket between them that made Keith’s skin prickle worse. He didn’t care if he frustrated or disappointed Dorian with his lack of empathy, but it irritated him when Dorian acted like he didn’t understand him, like they hadn’t been over this dozens of times. 

As they neared the parking garage, Dorian’s phone chimed with a text message. They both stopped as he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket to check it, a nervous energy to his motions. His eyes read over the message he received and Keith stood and waited to hear what he had to say. “Volt’s awake,” were the first words Dorian said. “Eddie says he might need a few days before he’s ready for visitors and to text him before we come visit so he can let us know.” There was a small smile on his face as he read, a sense of relief as he relaxed a little hearing that Volt is at least out of the coma. 

“That’s good to hear,” Keith said, waiting patiently as Dorian seemed to reread the message over and over as if he wasn’t sure he was reading it correctly. “Does that mean we get to go home soon?” 

Dorian’s face fell and he sighed, that tension returning to him as he put his phone away. “Not yet, we have to see how Volt is doing,” he said as he started walking again. 

Keith stood there for a minute, watching as Dorian took just a few steps before stopping to turn back to him. He had felt a sense of excitement at the thought that they would be leaving, that tonight he could sleep in his own bed instead of climbing the stairs to someone else’s guest bed. “What do you mean “not yet”? You said we would stay until Volt woke up, and he’s awake. We should be going home,” he said, the usual monotone to his voice trembling slightly. He tried to hold back the anger he could feel creeping into him, unsure if he would be able to control it once it got out. 

“We have to let him know that we’re glad he’s okay, we can’t just leave without seeing him,” Dorian tried to explain, but Keith didn’t need him to explain. Keith understood what Dorian thought was the correct thing to do, but he thought it was fucking stupid, that Dorian wasn’t actually thinking about the situation. Volt didn’t need to see them, he probably didn’t even care that they had been visiting while he was unconscious. What Volt needed right now was rest, if his coming up from the anesthesia was anything like Keith had experienced, not people who he hardly knew coming to bother his ass. 

“I want to go home, Dorian, I do not want to keep playing this waiting game. Volt will be fine without us visiting, you can give him a phone call later or send another card if you’re so inclined,” Keith argued. 

Dorian sighed again and pushed his fingers through his hair. “Keith, please, can we not fight about this right now? Just a few more days, I’m sure Volt will be up for a visit soon, and then we can go home,” he said as he looked at him, his big brown eyes pleading to him. “Come on, for me?” 

Keith clenched his jaw, staring back at Dorian for several seconds before he downed the rest of his spiked coffee, hoping the alcohol would help keep the strands holding him together from snapping. “Fine, a few more days,” he surrendered as he started walking again, throwing his cup at the trash without paying much attention. It bounced off, tapping across the floor for a second but Keith didn’t pay attention to it, too frustrated to care about some useless paper cup littering the hospital. He continued to walk, and in the moment before the automatic doors slid open, he saw Dorian’s reflection in the glass, bent over to pick the cup up.

The following days were even more strenuous than previous ones. Their morning routine became waking up earlier than Keith would have liked and Dorian texting Eddie to see if Volt was up for a visit yet, and the answer was no every time. Keith kept it to himself but he didn’t think Volt would want any visitors for some time, considering what he had been through and what he probably was still going through. He didn’t know what recovering from a seizure that severe was like, but he could only assume that the answer was intense, unless Volt had gotten very lucky. 

He kept his mouth shut though, understanding that fighting with Dorian was pointless with how stupidly stubborn he was. It would be easier to try and ride out what would hopefully only be a little while longer. In addition to Dorian’s morning texts, Keith had his own ritual of making himself a special coffee in the morning, and occasionally sneaking an extra sip in later in the afternoon, going so far as to stay awake after Dorian had fallen asleep in order to creep downstairs, grab a drink, and go outside to smoke a cigarette or two. He was trying to ration the smoking, one part because he didn’t want the scent to linger on him too much and another part he only had so many whereas the alcohol in the house was abundant.

“Can you make me a coffee too?” Dorian asked one morning. He had also been getting less sleep since finding out Volt was awake but they couldn’t visit. Keith could tell the lack of something to do was eating away at him. Dorian was restless, shifting constantly when they were sitting on the couch, getting up to pace around the house. Old habits of his had started to creep back up as he searched for a sense of control. He would check the doors periodically throughout the day to ensure they were locked, carefully double checking them at night when the two of them were going to bed, sometimes having to get up after they got settled under the covers to go check again. 

It was something that he had done ever since Keith had returned, though the ease and routine with which he did it made him suspect that he had been doing it before he had shown up. He wondered if it was because he had lost that connection with Realization, if it was because he couldn’t be in every room of the house at once anymore, unable to keep an eye on everything and know that everyone was safe and secure. They hadn’t talked about it, Keith had his own bad habits and Dorian checking doors repeatedly was the least of his worries. At worst it was inconvenient, especially when Dorian continuously checked the locks, obsessively making sure they were secure, or when they were trying to leave the house and he felt the need to check all of the doors, and even windows when he was really struggling. Keith didn’t particularly care if they were ever late though, he could patiently wait while Dorian went through his entire home again. 

It wasn’t a good sign that he felt compelled to check the doors and locks more frequently, but Keith supposed it was to be expected considering the stress he was under. It seemed to bother Dorian more than it did him, but any attempt Keith made to try and reason with him just upset him further. Keith couldn’t understand how he could be so doubtful of himself, but there were many things about Dorian that Keith couldn’t understand. All he knew was that the more frequent and repetitive the checking was, the more stress Dorian must have been feeling. He had been going to bed later each night, the need to make sure the house was safe pulling him from under the sheets several times before he finally fell asleep with his arms tight around Keith, like if he held on tight enough then everything would be okay. 

“I can. Are you tired?” Keith asked politely as he got the coffee machine running, setting out two mugs instead of just one. He didn’t need to ask, he could see the exhaustion that had been pulling at him starting to pool under Dorian’s eyes as well. 

“Yeah, just been having a hard time sleeping,” he said as he walked up behind Keith, looping his arms around his waist and resting his head on his shoulder. “Been worried for Eddie and Volt. I wish Eddie would send me more than “not yet” when he texts me back,” he complained. 

“I’m sure everything is fine, Dorian. No news is good news in this type of situation,” Keith attempted to reassure him. Dorian’s arms kept tight around him as the coffee finished brewing and he started to pour it, the blanket of him against his back feeling heavy as he was watched. “Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee to you in a second,” he told him, trying to get him to leave so he could slip into the fridge and grab whatever was in there that would be suitable for coffee. 

Dorian’s arms tensed around him, hesitation in his muscles as he considered Keith’s words before he sighed heavily and slowly let go. “Alright,” he said, pressing a kiss behind Keith’s ear before stepping away from him. Keith listened to his footsteps as he left the kitchen and went to the living room, listening carefully for the sound of him turning the tv on. Once he was settled, Keith moved quickly to open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of whatever liquor his hand landed on, uncaring of the flavor. Enough cream and sugar would cover it up. 

He twisted the cap off the bottle and went to pour it, but when he tilted the bottle it slipped from his hand. He didn’t have a chance to try and grab it before it knocked over the mug, spilling hot coffee across the counter before the bottle fell and shattered on the floor. He stood still as the liquor spread across the floor, the puddle surrounding his feet. 

Shit. 

“Are you okay?” Dorian asked and he was back in the kitchen in the blink of an eye. Keith looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, his eyes flickering over the mess on the floor and counter, scanning over Keith to check for any injuries. “What happened?” 

“I dropped the bottle,” Keith said plainly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide the situation. He went to take a step back but Dorian put up a hand to stop him. 

“No, don’t move, let me get a broom or something for the glass,” he said, rushing to the closet in the hallway. He came back with a broom and dustpan, his own shoes slipped on haphazardly. “Just hold still,” he told him as he carefully started to sweep up the shattered glass and loose liquid as best as he could. His face scrunched up once he was close, the strong smell obvious. “Is that alcohol?”

“Yes,” Keith answered. He held still as he watched Dorian work carefully to clean the floor up, trying to gather up every piece. 

“Go ahead and step back, that should be the worst of it,” Dorian told him, offering up a hand to help him move out of the puddle. Keith took his hand and carefully stepped backwards, trying his best to not wobble or slip. Dorian led him back to one of the kitchen chairs until he was able to sit down out of the way. He opened the trash can and dumped out the dustpan, tapping it a few times to make sure all the small glass shards were off of it. 

Keith sat silently as he watched Dorian clean up the mess, using handfuls of paper towels to soak up the liquid and drop them in the trash. Dorian worked quietly but there was a tension in his body as he moved, like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure how. When he got the floor cleaned up, he stood and looked at the counter, grabbing another set of paper towels to start cleaning up the spilled coffee. 

“Why did you have alcohol out?” Dorian asked carefully, sounding almost scared to ask. 

“Because I was going to add it to my coffee,” Keith admitted, no sense in trying to keep it a secret anymore. 

Dorian sighed heavily, setting the spilled mug into the sink and emptying the other one down the drain. “Why? Why would you do that?” he said, irritation clear in his voice. 

Keith thought for a moment as he tried to figure out what words to say. “Because it helps keep me…personable,” he tried to explain. “And keeps me from doing worse things.” 

“Keith, what? How much have you been drinking?” Dorian finished cleaning up the mess and turned to look at him, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Every day,” he replied, staring at Dorian. “I’ve been drinking every morning since you dragged us down here, and at night, to try and get through this with you.” 

Dorian balked at him. “Every morning?! Keith, we’ve been at the hospital every day! Have you been getting drunk when we go to visit?” 

“I’d hardly call it getting drunk. I’m buzzed at best,” Keith said, propping his elbow on the table and resting his head in his palm. He could feel a headache creeping in, possibly a mild hangover or slight withdrawal, or maybe just from the exhaustion of fighting with Dorian. 

Dorian rubbed at his face, dragging his hands down himself. “There’s no difference. You can’t be day drinking at the fucking hospital, you should know better.” 

Keith blinked at him slowly, his mouth drawing tight. “I do know better, I’m fully aware that most people think it’s inappropriate to day drink when visiting a friend in a coma. I chose to do so because it helped me put on a happy face for you. Would you rather I get hammered before bed and go in hung over?” he asked bluntly and genuinely. 

“No!” Dorian groaned, his hands landing heavily on the counter he leaned against. “I don’t want you doing any drinking! I knew I shouldn’t have let you have that wine, at the hotel or here. I should’ve- This is-” he groaned again, burying a hand in his hair as he gripped the counter. 

“You couldn’t have stopped me even if you wanted,” Keith pointed out to him. 

“No, I could have if I had paid attention,” Dorian cut him off before he could say more, pointing a finger at him accusatorially. “I’ve done it before, I did it when you were way worse, I just didn’t know you were sneaking alcohol behind my back!” His voice trembled as he yelled. 

“You were only able to do that because I wanted you to stop me, even if I fought back frequently. What would you have done this time if you found out earlier? Poured all of it down the drain? I would have snuck out and bought some, or found something else in here to get high on. Kept an eye on me the whole time? What if I walked out anyway, would you have physically held me back? Would you have barricaded me in a room? Boarded up the windows so I couldn’t escape, removed anything sharp so I couldn’t hurt myself, anything that could’ve been used as a noose? Would you have-” 

“Enough!” Dorian cut him off, slamming his hands against the counter so hard that he winced from the pain but ignored it. “Why do you have to act like I’m the bad guy here? All I want is for you to be okay, is that too much? I want to take care of you!” 

“Is this taking care of me?!” Keith raised his voice to get Dorian’s attention and make him take him seriously. “Dragging me hours away from our home when I don’t want to fucking be here? Making me wake up every morning to go visit someone who’s not even awake to know we’re visiting, who we can’t do anything for? I’m tired, Dorian, I don’t want to be here! I want to be home, sleeping in our own bed, cooking in our own kitchen, just the two of us. Do you think I actually want to be drinking? I don’t. I don’t want to lie to you or sneak around, but you know how I am. I’ve told you what it’s like to have to pretend, to put on a pretty face for everyone and play these stupid social games, I’ve told you how it gets to me. I’m not drinking just because it seems fun, I decided to do it so I could keep playing pretend for you and hopefully not turn to something more destructive as time went on. Would you rather that I not drink and then snap and try to swipe pills from the hospital or go wandering at night for harder drugs while caring even less about my well being or what you would think if I got hurt?” Keith breathed heavily for a moment to catch his breath.

Dorian didn’t look at him, his eyes downcast and off to the side as he rubbed at the sore spots on his hands. He didn’t say anything for a long time and eventually Keith laid his head back in his hand and closed his eyes. If Dorian was going to ruminate and pout, he was at least going to rest for a few minutes. 

“I’m…sorry,” Dorian said in the silence of the kitchen. Keith slowly opened his eyes to look at him again but didn’t lift his head. Dorian hadn’t moved, standing in the same spot at the counter, nursing his bruised palms and avoiding looking at him. “I didn’t realize this was so hard for you. You’re so…quiet and it’s hard to read you sometimes and I thought you were handling it alright.” 

“I was handling it alright, that’s what the alcohol was for,” Keith interrupted him, his voice back to his monotone but weighted down by how tired he was. 

“That’s not what I mean,” he sighed, shaking his head for a second. “I thought you were handling it without the alcohol or anything like that. If I had known, I would’ve done something. If you had told me-” 

“I tried to tell you, Dorian. Over and over, I told you I didn’t want to be here, that we should go home, but you ignored me every time,” Keith argued. “You’re so worried about taking care of Eddie and Volt that you haven’t been taking care of us,” he said, softening his voice slightly to sound less angry. “When will it finally be enough for you to let us go home, or do you plan on moving in for what could be months? Are you going to stay here and tend to Volt’s recovery like you did mine?” 

Dorian’s face fell, his frown growing and eyebrows drawing down as he listened to him. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes for a few seconds before he finally looked towards him. “Alright. We’ll leave soon, but I want to see how Volt’s doing before we do. After that, we’ll go home, I promise,” he said slowly. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight. I don’t trust you not to sneak another drink again,” he said seriously, looking at him with the intensity he always carried when he took charge of a situation. 

Keith stared back at him, unintimidated by his glare. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he had been working through, a little less than half of them remaining. “Here, take these too,” he said as he tossed them to Dorian who caught them easily. “I imagine you won’t want me smoking those either.” 

Dorian turned the box over in his hand as he looked at it before he sighed heavily, disappointment weighing his shoulders down. “Where the hell did you get these from?” he asked, though it was clear he wouldn’t like any answer that Keith gave him. 

“Eddie’s bedside table,” he answered unblinkingly. Dorian’s mouth drew tight and Keith cut him off before he could open it. “No need to scold me further, I already know stealing is wrong and all that.” 

Dorian frowned but stayed quiet, shoving the cigarettes into his own pants for now. He looked like he had more that he wanted to say but he didn’t, instead walking over to the sink and turning it on. “I’ll make our coffee,” he said firmly. Keith didn’t argue with him, the headache that he had felt coming on earlier starting to pound at the inside of his skull. 

The rest of the day went by tensely. With nothing to do and no way of releasing the stress, Keith could feel his skin crawling every time Dorian looked at him. True to his word, Dorian didn’t let Keith have more than a few short minutes alone, only doing so when either of them had to use the bathroom, and even then Keith knew Dorian was counting down the seconds and scrutinizing him afterwards, looking for any little tell that he had done something wrong. 

The worst was when it got late in the day, when the sun set and night crawled in. Each hour had gone by painfully slow, and it only continued after it got dark out. They should have gone to bed at their usual time, but Keith’s stubbornness didn’t want to let him. He knew he had told Dorian he wouldn’t sneak anymore drinks, and he partially wanted to hold true to that while also knowing that if the opportunity arose, he might take it. 

Dorian must have known that too, or at least been paranoid about it. He had insisted that he cook their meals that day, something he had rarely done since Keith had been able to cook again. It was nothing fancy, but it was good enough to get them through the day, though they were running low on ingredients in Eddie and Volt's house that Dorian felt comfortable using. He passively made a comment about needing to buy some groceries and Keith felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle with the implication. 

He had to do something to get them out of here. He wanted to trust Dorian's promise to leave once they had seen Volt, but he knew how Dorian would always offer help, always insist on doing something for someone else. 

The opportunity came late in the night. Keith wasn't sure what time it even was, only that night had fallen and the two of them had been laying in bed for hours, both either unable to sleep or refusing to. Dorian was curled around him like always, his grip on him especially restricting, like he thought Keith would make a run for it at any second. 

He felt Dorian shift behind him and his fingers tighten around him for a second before his lips pressed against the back of his head. “I'm going to the bathroom,” he murmured, though instead of a reassuring statement it felt more like a warning. He unwrapped himself from around Keith and he listened to his steps until he heard the bathroom door squeak closed but not fully shut, rarely was it fully shut anymore. 

It was risky but when had that ever stopped him before? Keith rolled over as silently as possible, ignoring the way it twisted his leg awkwardly, and reached for Dorian's phone on the far bedside table. It was almost blindingly bright in the dark bedroom, his eyes squinting as he entered the passcode to unlock it. Not that Dorian had ever given it to him. He took a moment to reorient himself with Dorian's layout until he found his texts, quickly finding Eddie's at the top of the list. 

Eddie. When will Volt be ready for a visit we need to go home. 

Keith typed the message and hit send. He wasn’t trying to mimic Dorian’s typing style, he didn’t care if Eddie knew it was him or Dorian texting, all he needed to do was get the message across. He watched until the text had fully been sent and then selected the message and deleted it, leaving no evidence of it for Dorian to find. If Eddie texted back, there might be a chance that he said something that raised Dorian’s suspicions, but hopefully he would either be smart enough to tell that it was Keith texting him instead or too preoccupied with Volt to worry about it. 

He returned the phone to its homescreen and closed it, placing it in the same spot on the table as it had been when he got it. He could hear Dorian washing his hands and used the short amount of time he had to curl back up on his side, hoping that any disturbance of the sheets or inconsistency with his positioning would be explained away by normal shifting around to get comfortable. 

Dorian returned just a few short seconds later and silently slid back under the covers, slotting himself behind Keith and wrapping an arm around him again. He pressed another kiss to his hair and his hand idly pet along the curve of his stomach in a way that was less affectionate and more like attempting to soothe a cornered animal. All Keith could do was lay there and wait.

Chapter Text

Neither of them slept at all before the sun started to rise. Instead they continued to lay there, pretending that they were trying to sleep, pressed against each other in a mimicry of sleep. When the sun had risen high enough, Dorian eventually kissed his neck and released him. “Come on, I’m going to make breakfast,” he mumbled against his skin, a statement instead of an offer, reaffirming that he was going to be the one doing all the cooking while they were here. 

Keith pushed the blankets back from himself and slowly sat up, an exhausted yawn breaking from his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to actually get some sleep, but there was no telling when that was going to happen. All he could do was hope that Eddie understood the text he had sent and give them some way out. 

Dorian made some eggs, toast, and plenty of coffee, plain and simple, just something to be considered breakfast rather than anything special or particularly filling. They ate together in awkward silence, not their usual comforting quiet. Every movement between the two of them felt tense and unpleasant, like each of them was waiting for the other to do something. 

After breakfast and cleaning up, before going about the rest of their day, Dorian texted Eddie his usual message, asking about Volt and if they could visit. Only a few minutes went by before his phone rang and he glanced at it, expecting the same message that he had been getting. Keith watched him carefully as he checked the message, wondering what Eddie’s response had finally been. 

Dorian’s eyes practically lit up and he grinned as he read the message over a few times before he spoke. “Eddie says Volt’s up for a visit today,” he told Keith, looking up at him excitedly. It was the second best thing Keith could have heard right now, besides Dorian saying they could leave. “Come on, let’s get ready to go,” Dorian said, not even giving Keith a chance to respond if he wanted to or not, or if he wanted more time to try and pull himself together after their sleepless night. 

“Do you want coffee to take with us to keep us awake for the visit?” Keith asked, still feeling the fatigue hanging over him. 

Dorian paused, his mouth drawing tight as he thought for a minute. “I don't think I trust you with a coffee at the hospital,” he said after a long second. 

Keith blinked at him. “What, do you think I'll find a chance to slip away from you breathing down my neck to add something extra to it?” he asked incredulously. 

“I don't know, Keith, maybe. It's hard to trust that you won't pull some slight of hand bullshit like that,” Dorian argued. “I'll buy you a water once we get there so you can have something to drink, and you can sip some of my coffee if you want.” Keith stared at him as he walked away to get them clothes, unable to believe how much Dorian was treating him like a child. 

Even after they had gotten dressed and cleaned up, Dorian trying to make them look more presentable now that he knew they would be seeing Volt, it still took them sometime to leave the house. Keith waited patiently by the front door as Dorian checked the locks on the back door again. A few minutes went by before Dorian finally joined him, giving him an apologetic kiss to his temple. “Alright, we can go,” he said while he opened the door for him. Keith stepped outside and stood aside as Dorian closed and locked it. He tested the door knob, twisting and pushing and pulling at the door to make sure it was locked. He stepped away and put his keys in his pocket before hesitating, his eyes lingering on the doorknob as he sighed. He pulled his keys back out, unlocked the door, opened it enough that he could close it again, and relocked it, pushing and pulling on the door rhythmically before stepping away and hesitating again. 

Dorian sighed as he repeated the process over again, each movement focused and intentional. Keith watched him blankly, he had seen Dorian do the same ritual when they were going to bed before, his compulsion to make sure they were safe driving him to check repeatedly before he could be satisfied in knowing the house was secure. He also knew that there wasn't much he could do to help relieve that worry, all he could do was be patient and wait, which thankfully wasn't hard. 

Dorian locked the door again and pushed and pulled to check its resistance, but before he let go of the knob he pressed his forehead against the door and closed his eyes. He stood like that for a few seconds, his grip on the doorknob tight. It was something he did when he was having a particularly difficult time with a door. Keith had never asked what he was doing when he stood like that, but he assumed that it was Dorian trying to speak to the door like it was his former self, silently begging it to remain as strong and sturdy as he had. After a few seconds, Dorian let out a breath and slowly let go of the doorknob as he stepped back, looking sheepish as he avoided Keith's eyes when he offered his arm to walk him to the car. 

True to his word, Dorian did buy himself a cup of coffee and Keith a plain bottle of water when they got to the hospital. It was almost frustrating enough that Keith thought about slapping the cup from Dorian's hand and sending scalding hot coffee down him, but he resisted the urge. All that would have done was piss Dorian off more and he'd get even more controlling. Besides, he didn't want to hurt him in any serious manner.

When they walked up to the receptionist’s desk, Dorian had a nervous energy about him as if he was afraid they might be turned away at the last second, or maybe he was nervous about what Volt's condition would be. Keith wasn't sure if he had given much thought to that though. “Hello, we're here to visit Volt and Eddie Watts,” Dorian said when the nurse greeted them. 

“Let me go check with them first,” the nurse said before he disappeared down the hall. A few moments later he returned, giving Dorian a small nod. “Alright, you can go in.” 

“Thank you,” Dorian said and started down the hall, leading Keith along the way. He paused outside Volt’s door, one last moment of nervous hesitation despite the fact that he had practically been begging for this for the last few days, and then he knocked, firm and gentle at the same time. 

Keith followed behind him as they entered, glancing at Volt sitting up with the support of the bed. He looked like shit, which was to be expected, but he wasn’t attached to as many machines as he had been the last time they visited. There were still the remnants of the nasty bruise on the side of his face, faded from the bright reds and purples to sickly greens and yellows. His hair had been pulled up in an attempt to look more put together, but Keith could see the way he gripped Eddie’s hand that he was just as nervous about this visit as Dorian was. 

“It’s good seeing you awake, how are you feeling?” Dorian asked as he hovered near the foot of Volt’s bed and sipped his coffee. Keith made his way to one of the chairs near his bedside, not caring to stand and act polite. 

“I’m feeling much better,” Volt replied with a polite smile. 

Keith couldn’t hold back a sharp bark of laughter at his poor performance, the exhaustion in Volt’s eyes nearly palpable. “I’ve told better lies while stoned and drunk, though maybe they’ve at least still got you stoned,” he said, glancing at the IV still in Volt’s arm. He remembered the list of drugs they had him on when they visited previously and wondered if he was still on any of them. Probably not, but he could still be envious of the possibility. 

“Keith,” Dorian growled low at him, a pointed warning. 

“What?” he said back, staring at him as he pointedly opened the water bottle, cracking the threads of the lid audibly, and took a sip. “You said you wanted to see how he was doing before we could go home. Talking circles around the fact that a coma isn’t usually something fucking refreshing seems pointless.” Any trained patience for social niceties that Keith had taught himself had been drained from the last 24 hours of dealing with Dorian, he simply didn’t have the energy to play pretend and polite. 

Dorian glared at him but before he could scold him, Volt spoke up. “I’m awake now, that’s better enough,” he said in an attempt to smooth things over and distract from their bickering. He gestured at the other chair and Keith could see the way his hand shook, how uncoordinated the movement was. His arm looked thinner too, Keith noticed. All of him did, now that he took a moment to look at him more. Not moving for a week would do that to a guy. “Dorian, why don’t you sit down as well. You look exhausted.” 

Dorian nodded, eyes glancing down in humiliation from having Volt stop their argument, and took the seat next to him. “Excuse him, he’s been in rare form,” Dorian said, but Keith had stopped paying attention. He had already grabbed the remote from Volt’s bedside and was turning the tv on, looking for some mindless show to distract him or to fall asleep to. 

“It’s alright, I heard the two of you did a lot for Eddie…A lot for both of us while I was…indisposed,” Volt said and Keith blinked slowly at the tv, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest to get as comfortable as he could. 

“It’s the least we could do,” Dorian replied, as if he had been some big help during all of this. “What are friends for if they aren’t there in your time of need?” 

Keith let the rest of them do all the small talk, Dorian explaining what they had been doing while waiting for Volt to be ready for a visit, what they had done prior to Eddie arriving on Dorian’s doorstep begging for help. He tuned them out as he closed his eyes, physically and mentally exhausted from everything. Maybe he could catch some of the sleep he had missed last night while they entertained themselves. 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes opening his eyes to look at the tv for a few minutes or look over at the others as if he was part of the conversation. Despite the fact that they were here to visit Volt, Eddie was the one doing most of the talking. It wasn’t surprising that Volt wouldn’t be super chatty, but it was different from the way the two of them used to be. Volt had always been the charm and smiles at the Breaker Box from the day he showed up, and Eddie had always been blunt and straightforward, a bit of a prick, really. It was interesting watching how they had changed their roles and Keith wondered if it was something that had occurred over time, or was a new development from this incident, Eddie picking up the slack and being protective of Volt. They were both fiercely protective of each other, Keith carried the scars to prove that, it would be interesting to see how that changed after Volt was released from the hospital. 

“So the two of you planning on going home soon, now that Volt’s up?” he heard Eddie say and looked up with a brief spark of excitement and hope. 

“We’re more than happy to keep an eye on your home until Volt’s out of the hospital,” Dorian said, and Keith’s body went rigid. He fucking knew Dorian would pull some bullshit like that. 

“We don’t know when that will be, Dorian,” Volt said quickly. “I don’t wish to keep you here indefinitely.” 

Dorian waved a hand dismissively. “With everything going on, it’s good to have someone nearby. It’s no trouble, truly,” he lied. 

It sent a bolt of anger through him, bright and hot. “Dorian,” he snapped, but the bite to his voice was weighted down by his exhaustion, the physical drain on his body ironically helping to keep him from going over the edge of control. “It is trouble for us, neither of us slept at all last night, we can’t keep doing this,” he practically begged. 

“You haven’t been sleeping?” Eddie asked, looking between them. “You’ve been telling me to take better care of myself this entire time, we don’t want you burning yourself out just to be nearby. You need to go home.” 

“I had been sleeping, it’s just because-” Dorian stopped himself and looked at Keith. Keith’s misbehaving. Keith’s relapsing. Keith’s acting out, his mind filled in the gaps. Of course that would be what Dorian focused on, his handling of the situation that Dorian got them into instead of the actual problem. It would always be Keith causing the problem, never Dorian, Dorian was better than that, Dorian was there to help protect people, he would never accept the blame. 

Keith let out a huge breath, pushing his hair back as he tried to ground himself. He didn’t want to make this more of a scene than it needed to be, but if things didn’t get resolved soon, he wouldn’t hesitate to escalate it. “Well I haven’t been able to sleep, Dorian. I miss our bed. We cannot stay here forever. Being nearby will not make you able to fix what happened,” he spat out, trying to be honest and to speak some sense into that thick fucking empathetic skull of his. The room went silent, his words apparently sitting heavy in the air. Volt looked down at his lap and Eddie’s face paled, while Dorian looked at him, surprise quickly turning into a defensive scowl. 

“Dorian, you need to go home,” Volt stated, his voice tired and hollow, the performance of being healthy and polite falling away. Keith looked at him, recognizing the exhaustion and the attempt to reign in the full extent of how much it was affecting him. He noticed the way he looked at his and Eddie’s hands, both of them clinging painfully tight to the other. Their closeness and connection through this made him long to return to the way he and Dorian had been, never nearly as close as the two of them, but he wanted this distance that had grown over the last several days gone. “You aren’t helping staying here, there’s nothing for you to do. We can’t know if I’ll be in here for two more days or two more months. You’re exhausted, Keith is exhausted, you need to go home.” 

Dorian was quiet as he avoided everyone’s eyes, backed into a corner of his own creation. Keith knew he was trying to find a way to argue that he should stay, that there was something for him to do to make things better, to provide care and security for them like he used to. “Are you sure?” he finally said as he looked up, glancing between Eddie and Volt. 

“We’re sure,” they said, eerily in unison. 

Dorian sighed, his shoulders falling as he looked back down. “Alright, we’ll collect our stuff and go back home when we leave,” he said and Keith let his head fall back against the chair, letting out his own breath of relief. Finally, it might have taken everyone else scolding him, but Dorian was finally going to let them go home. “I’ll stop by before we leave town to give you back your spare key.” 

It was like a weight had been lifted from the room, like someone had pulled back the curtains and opened a window. Keith could see it in Eddie and Volt’s faces too as they went through the routine of goodbyes, both of them worn out from everything and then having to deal with Dorian on top of all of it. Dorian did try to offer more help, telling them that if they did need anything to just give him a call and he would drive all the way back. Keith hoped that they wouldn’t, he wasn’t sure how Dorian would behave once they were home, he was already controlling and overbearing now. There would be no way for Keith to convince him to leave him at home if this happened again, not after admitting to the drinking and smoking, Dorian would be too paranoid about him properly relapsing to let him go unobserved for that long, but Keith knew if he got dragged back into this situation again, the two of them and the relationship they had reformed might not survive like it did this time. 

They drove back to the house in silence and Dorian hesitated as Keith took a seat on the couch, exhausted and relieved at the same time. Dorian stared at him for several long seconds, he could feel his eyes on him even if his own were shut. He finally cracked one open and looked over at him. “What?” he asked shortly. 

Dorian looked over him slowly, his face hardened in an attempt to conceal his own emotions, something he was never particularly good at. He took the few steps over towards him and one of his hands reached up to push Keith’s hair back delicately, his eyes softening slightly. “Wait right here while I get our things,” he said before leaning down over the back of the couch to kiss his forehead, his fingers lingering for another second as he stood back up and turned away. Keith felt himself relax onto the couch, a sense of relief washing over him at not having Dorian’s eyes following his every move and looking for any mistake. He could hear Dorian moving quickly up the stairs, probably rushing so that he wasn’t left alone for too long to get into trouble, but he was too tired to consider caring. 

It seemed like only a few seconds passed before Keith felt Dorian’s fingers in his hair again, making him twitch as he opened his eyes. He must have actually dozed off this time. Dorian had the bag he had brought with them slung over his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “We’re all packed, are you ready to go?” 

“Please,” Keith breathed, sitting up slowly. Dorian circled around and offered his hand to him, helping him stand and offering him his free arm as they walked. It felt more normal than it had over the last few days and Keith leaned more of his weight on him than he had been, the brief nap making him realize how tired and sore his body was from being so tense. 

Dorian led them out to the car, not stopping to lock the door. Keith looked between him and the house for a second as they circled the car. “You didn’t lock the door,” he pointed out. 

“I didn’t want to make you stand there for…all that,” Dorian explained as he held Keith’s door open for him. It was a small gesture of care that Keith recognized and he nodded in understanding, sliding into the car as Dorian threw their bag into the backseat. He watched him walk back to the house and disappear inside, almost certainly going to check the back door. His eyes still felt heavy and he closed them again, leaning his head against the window as he waited. 

He woke back up to the sound of the car door opening, a brief moment of uncertainty making him clutch his cane before he remembered where he was. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Dorian apologized as he started the car. 

“It’s alright,” Keith said, relaxing his grip as Dorian backed them out of the driveway. He looked over Eddie and Volt’s house again, thankful to finally be out of it. His own drowsiness made him pause for a second and he looked over at Dorian, noticing the bags under his eyes. “Are you going to be able to get us home? You haven’t slept either,” he said. 

“I’ll be fine, you’re more tired because you didn’t have the extra coffee this morning,” Dorian replied, a hint of guilt in his voice. “I’m…sorry about that.” 

Keith just blinked slowly before he gave a small shrug and propped his head in his hand as he looked out the window. He wasn’t sure if he forgave Dorian for acting how he had, but he understood why he did what he did. 

The drive to the hospital went by quietly, Keith drifting in and out of a light sleep. Dorian found a parking spot and shut the car off and Keith lifted his head from his hand, prepared to have to trek through the hospital to return the spare key to Eddie and go through the goodbyes again. When he went to grab the handle to open the door he felt Dorian’s hand rest on his knee, giving a small squeeze that felt good on the aching joint. “You can stay out here, I’ll try to be fast,” Dorian said softly. 

Keith looked at him. “Are you sure? I thought you didn’t trust me anymore,” he said, pointing out Dorian’s logic from earlier that morning. He didn’t mean for it to be an insult or hurtful, but he could see in the way Dorian frowned that it must have been. 

“Just…don’t hotwire the car while I’m gone, alright?” he said, both an honest request and an attempt at being light hearted. Keith hadn’t realized that he had missed Dorian’s sarcastic attitude, but hearing a hint of it again made him long for it. 

“I won’t,” he said, deciding that it would be more reassuring to Dorian for him to respond seriously rather than with a joke of his own.

Dorian gave him a small smile and leaned over to give him a kiss, their lips lingering against each other for a second before he pulled back. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he climbed out of the car. 

Dorian was gone for a while, but if that was because he was having a long goodbye with Eddie and Volt or because of how long it took to walk through the hospital, Keith didn’t know. He didn’t think that Dorian would be particularly chatty while he was waiting in the car though. Even if he was trying to trust him again, Keith knew that Dorian was still hesitant to leave him be after his behaviors during their time here. 

Keith was awake when Dorian came back out of the hospital and he watched him walk across the parking garage. He still held himself with all the confidence of a door, but he could see the uncertainty he still felt at leaving Eddie and Volt on their own. 

Dorian opened the door and climbed in, glancing at Keith briefly to check on him, trying to gauge if he had gotten into any trouble while he was gone. Satisfied, he started the car and quietly navigated their way out until they were back on the road. 

The two of them were silent for a long time, an awkwardness floating in the air of the car as they both knew the long drive that was ahead of them. Keith thought as he watched the buildings pass by until they changed into trees once they got back on the highway. “I’m happy we’re going home,” he admitted to Dorian honestly. “I’ve missed our home, our routine, cooking in our own kitchen.” 

Dorian thought for a second before he sighed and nodded. “I know, me too,” he said reluctantly. “I just…wanted to help take care of them.” 

“I know you did, you always want to take care of everyone,” Keith said. “That’s why I tried to play along, even if I thought it was stupid. I knew it was important to you. I’m sorry you caught me drinking, I didn’t want to put another worry on you and I knew you would be upset if you found out how often I was doing it. I just got…frustrated with everything, with having to go back and forth every day, with feeling like I wasn’t in control of anything because I was trying to let you do what you needed. When I tried to tell you I was getting sick of it but you kept insisting on staying and helping, it was too much, but I didn’t want to lash out. The drinking helped but I understand that you didn’t like it, and I apologize for that.” 

Dorian was quiet for a long time as he drove, staring out the windshield with a frown. “I’m sorry too,” he finally said after several minutes. “I shouldn’t have dragged you out here, I should have let you stay home. I was worried for Eddie and Volt, and I was angry at you for the marriage certificate, but I didn’t want to leave you alone. Well, maybe I didn’t want to be alone. Even though I was mad at you, seeing Eddie and Volt separated like that, I didn’t want to be without you,” he swallowed hard, as if just the thought alone was painful. “I’m sorry I made this so shitty for you that you had to start drinking again. If I would have known, I would’ve-” he hesitated, and Keith knew that he was unsure of what he would have done, too torn between his loyalty and care for his friends and for Keith. 

“Tell me next time, before you start doing shit like that. I know I’ll probably still act like an ass, but I’d rather know so I can try and help you figure something out rather than not know and…something happen,” Dorian continued. “I get why you did it, but that doesn’t make me much less angry about it. I worry about you, Keith, you know that. After everything, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Keith thought about his request. Would having told Dorian that he felt that pressure growing under his skin have helped? Would warning him about the need to do something reckless and attempting to let off some steam with smaller outbursts instead of one big life threatening one have changed anything? Or would it have made Dorian more controlling and restrictive sooner, making that pressure increase faster? He wasn’t sure. “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee that it will help,” he told him truthfully. 

Dorian frowned for a second before he nodded slowly. “Okay,” he compromised. “I just want to keep you safe, but I want to make you happy too. I love you.” 

“I know, and I love you too,” he told him. “I’m looking forward to getting to be home and relax, just the two of us again. You can even start planning out that proposal of yours,” Keith said with a soft smile to tease him, and he watched and Dorian smiled back.