One shot keyboard yuri fanfic on main. They kiss. That's all lol. Read if you dare. Typed it straight into tumblr WE DIE LIKE WOMEN!!!!
The band had long gone from the studio. The bar inside of it was empty--- only the lonesome two barflies hung around, drinking and moping.
"It's just---I feel--- I feel---" The words weren't making their way to Keith's mouth, and so he melted further onto the bar countertop, staring dejectedly at his nigh-empty glass. He makes little circles with his hand, evoking the words to come. Eventually, he just shrugs, shutting his eyes. The image of Rick staring down at him, imprinted on the inside of his lids.
Rick leans back, nearly falling off the backless barstool, which, with his eyes still closed, Keith thankfully doesn't see. He belches out, " 'M no good with words neither."
"I'm lonely, Ricky," The words finally sprung out and his eyes sprung open in a long, drawn-out croaked moan. He heaves, lurching under the strain of a sob, and confesses, "I started a band to feel less alone, I got married, had kids, did all the right things--- but God, it never went away."
Rick nods, leaning a forearm onto the countertop, eyes half-shut. "I know," he says. There's a palpable weight to it. "Isso isolating," he mumbles.
Keith peeks over the crook of his arm, revealing teardrops running down his cheeks, the same color as his eyes in the lighting. "I'm glad you get it," he chokes, taking a stuttering breath. He confesses to Rick at last: "You're the only person who does."
Without thinking, without even a second of hesitation, Rick reaches out a single thumb to his cheeks, and murmurs, "Stop crying. Making me sad."
"What the hell are you---" Keith starts, chuckling a half sob.
"Dunno," Rick admits, and continues swiping at the relentless tears, "It just feels right." He adds, as an aside, "You have very... fine features. Like a girl."
The sobs turn to full on laughter, and Keith asks, "So, are you calling me a girl?" His eyes, still wet, seemed to shine like sapphires.
Rick couldn't stop staring into them. "If you were a girl..." He stops, and shakes his head, as if getting out the thought. Still--- he couldn't keep himself from tracing the tear tracks down to Keith's jaw, placing his thumb under his chin. As if he were a sculptor, smoothing out the facial features from a lump of clay. Rick cocks his head to the side, studying him. He decides he's too warm, too lovely for any clay.
"You're acting like you're going to kiss me," It's a joke, but there's just the edge of a dare caught in it. They keep locking eyes.
Rick shrugs, and just goes in for it, and to his surprise, Keith doesn't resist. They both taste like hops, hard liquor, and stale pretzels, but all of this was second to the rush, the glow coming from both, the heat of the inside of their mouths, radiating into their chests. It felt like the inside of a firework, about to combust--- all the heat and built up pressure exploding in a blaze of glory.
There was only one problem.
Keith pulls away, wiping his mouth. "We shouldn't be doing this," he says, in a moment of sobriety.
Rick runs a hand through his hair, and it takes everything in Keith not to shrug him away. "No one--- I mean--- it's not like we're going to do that again. Right?"
"Right," Keith exhales. It's not quite a sigh, but the ghost of a sigh lingered under it.
