“Kill Me” ((Pete killing Keith, if you wouldn't mind))
Those little orange pills.
It was amazing, what little orange pills could do to change the whole demeanor of someone. Keith’s personality shot into the usual shaky, energetic mess of nerves when taking too many Dexies, yet Pete, who pocketed the small bag for the both of them, found himself increasingly touchy, confident in his ability to charm anyone or anything that had entered the club that night. His hand would brush up on women’s back, his mouth would press against any girl willing, another pill for him, another few for Keith, and it was back to flirting with whoever came their way.
At the end of the night, Pete lost count of how much he doped up, and he certainly wasn’t paying mind to Keith’s consumption, knowing full well that he needed it after his last fight with John. And maybe, Pete’s mind wandered, maybe he needed other things than just pills. After all, John was a strong influence in Keith’s life, and every time an argument would come, Pete noticed how Keith would suddenly start prodded other members of the band. Playing with Roger’s hair, making off-beat sexual jokes with Kit, even watching Pete work and calling him a ‘bit sexy’ when doing so.
Tonight was no exception.
As they both rolled out of the back door of the club, Keith still was leaning against Pete, barely aware as he began to play with the guitarists suit coat. Who was the songwriter to stop him, anyway? This intoxicated version of Townshend was much more interested in tangling bodies that being turned off by the drummer, so as Keith slowly and slowly began to ran into him some more, another little, orange pill made it’s way between Pete’s fingers.
And, placing that little, orange pill on his cigarette stained tongue, he gripped the alcohol-stained shirt of his drummer, tugging the man to look at him dead in those pools of blue. Their was no words exchanged, just Moonie’s body curving up to Pete’s as if he were another broad that had come by after a show. If the guitarist had any of his sanity left, he wouldn’t have been pulling these stunts with the other, but it was the way Keith grinned, a sly and seductive grin, while Peter’s tongue still jutted out that made his mind truly wrapped in intoxicating thoughts.
The kiss of death, Pete would remember it as.
Slowly, during their small session behind the club, Keith’s body began to go limp. Weakly, his hands would unclench Pete’s shirt, falling to his sides. His mouth would break away, his body leaning back.
"…Keith?" a breathless voice would say out loud.
And the breathless man before him would not dare move.
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