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they’re at some house party, it’s cramped and stuffy, but the playlist is good enough that keith doesn’t find himself explicitly complaining about being forced to come. most of his friends have either left for the night or are off playing something that requires far more inebriation than skill. keith’s done neither of those things. instead he’s sitting on the couch, squashed all the way to the end in order to avoid being collateral damage to the couple making out to the right of him.
lance is the only one with him, he’s perched to keith’s left, on the arm of the couch scanning the crowd for something. his breathing is still heavy, his hair clinging to the nape of his neck with slight sweat—he’s just come back from dancing—and keith is staring.
“hey,” keith starts, nudging lance’s hip with his elbow. lance lazily tears his gaze away, finally turning to look down at keith.
“what?” lance asks, the rented strobe lights flit across his face. “you wanna go back to the dorms or something?”
keith ignores him, the only thing he can focus on is the sudden rush of adrenaline in his bloodstream. he knows what that means, he’s about to do something impulsive. “i used to like you freshman year.” keith blurts out, except strangely enough the words feel intentional.
lance’s brows furrow, he leans down a little more to hear better. “i don’t think i heard you right… what did you say?”
“freshman year.” keith starts again, waits for lance to nod in acknowledgement. “i used to like you.” it feels easier the second time, but he’s not really sure why he’s doing it now all of a sudden.
lance seems just as confused, he frowns. “you liked me?” keith nods, lance reels back a little, almost to read his expression better. “are you being serious?” he asks.
“yeah, i am.” keith tells him, honestly.
“freshman year was only a semester ago.” lance remarks, keith catches the way his leg has begun to nervously bounce. he’s not really sure how he feels about that sort of reaction, so he looks towards the kitchen. he thinks he catches a glimpse of allura’s hair. “i mean—you’re using past tense so i’m assuming…” lance trails off, but keith gets what he’s trying to say.
keith doesn’t really know what to reply with so he doesn’t.
“why are you telling me this?” lance asks, tone implying that he’s biting back a million other questions.
and maybe this spontaneous confession wasn’t as impulsive as he’d originally thought. keith thinks it has more to do with self-preservation than anything. his fingers drum a nervous rhythm on the cup he’s clutching—it’s only filled with sprite, so he doesn’t even have alcohol to hide behind.
“if i ask you not to do something would you not do it?” keith finally speaks, turning his gaze back on lance.
lance tilts his head, “depends.”
“y’know this summer i didn’t really think about you. i mean obviously i did because we texted, but it was just normal. you were just another one of my college friends, and when we all came back for school—” he cuts himself off, looking away again, suddenly frustrated. “what i’m trying to say is that i thought i was over it.”
“oh.” lance says, it sounds incredibly awkward.
“i really wasn’t going to say anything, but” keith pauses. gaze catching on plaxum, she’s propped against the wall, head bobbing along with the beat of the song that’s playing and she’s so pretty with a kind demeanor to match. she smiles tentatively when they make eye contact, her eyes flitting to keith’s left before looking away. even in the darkness keith can catch her flush. out of his peripheral he watches lance follow his line of vision, his mouth drops slightly in realization. and it’s unfair, keith shouldn’t even ask. still. “can you wait? just a little? it’ll pass i promise.”
what he’s really asking is for lance to put his own love life on pause so keith’s feelings don’t get hurt. that’s what’s being implied, and they both know this and it’s unfair—
“okay.” lance says, his confusion is gone. it’s replaced by certainty. “i’ll wait.”
keith looks at him, makes sure his breath doesn’t catch because he’s trying. “thanks.” he’s aiming for casual, but figures he misses by a mile. he spots hunk entering from across the room, and makes a decision. “i’m gonna go.”
he stands up off the couch, belatedly realizing that the couple had been slightly leaning on him. he throws them a look of disgust. lance has scrambled to his feet too.
“i’ll walk with you if you want…” lance offers, but both of them know he’s not going to take him up on it.
“i’m good.” keith tells him.
he leaves feeling both relieved and burdened. it’s unbearable.
/
lance [1:03 am]
we’re still friends right?
keith [10:14 am]
you said the F word
but yea
lance [10:15 am]
u responded late
keith [10:16 am]
i fell asleep when i got home
my bad
lance [10:17 am]
well i’m glad YOU slept fine
keith [10:17 am]
i feel like ur mad
lance [10:18 am]
i’m not
keith [10:19 am]
okay
/
their break between classes happen to coincide on mondays. which results in keith and lance spending a good portion of the day just milling about together.
today they’re sitting on the lawn right in front of the science building waiting for their respective lectures to start. lance is laid flat on his back, jean jacket haphazardly thrown on the ground to work as a blanket, the soft underside of his wrist showing as he uses his forearm to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. keith pokes at his lunch uncomfortably, they’ve been sitting in heavy silence for approximately ten minutes.
keith had considered not showing up, but he’s trying not to run away from his problems anymore. he’s trying in general.
“you didn’t buy food.” keith comments, because he's not really sure how to start conversation. it had never been his forte, and luckily for him lance had always been the type to fill in silences when needed. apparently this wasn’t one of those times.
“‘m not hungry.” lance mumbles, not bothering to say anything else.
keith fights back the flare of irritation, because there’s no point in arguing about the fact that lance keeps insisting he’s not mad when he clearly is. sighing, he shoves his sandwich to the side, brings his knees up and rests his chin on them. keith tries to ignore how weird his confession has made everything between them, because that’ll only make him resentful of himself—he’s self-aware enough to realize how unhealthy that would be.
“you’re really starting to annoy me lance.” keith snaps at the fifteen-minute mark.
“i’m annoying you?!” lance asks incredulously, lifting himself up on his elbows to glare.
“you’re making this weird!” keith gestures between them a little too aggressively. “it doesn’t have to be like this, but you’re making it weird!” he repeats—rather emphasizes.
lance flounders for a second, “i’m not trying to.” he says, running a hand through his hair. and it goes tousled, looks perfectly windblown because there are wisps that curve down across his forehead, while others create a pretty part. keith blinks, brings himself back. “i just—this is new for me. i don’t know how to act?” lance continues unaware.
keith lifts his chin off his knees, so that he can twist his fingers into the grass blades in front of him. “just be like you were before, nothing has to change.”
“well how would that help? wasn’t that how you ended up liking me?”
keith freezes, realization dawning on him as he accidentally gives a harsh tug at the grass, rips it from the roots out. he thinks the universe is a little too crude with its metaphors. “you don’t have to help me get over you. i can do it on my own.” he says, voice going flat like it always does when he’s trying to contain something.
“that’s not it,” lance pauses. keith chances a glance away from his freshly stained fingers, looks up and towards lance from under lashes so that he can look away just as quick. lance is already staring at him, frustration reading in the furrow of his brow. “you’re my friend. i don’t want to be the one to hurt you.”
keith scoffs. “you won’t.”
“you say that now.” lance tells him, looking genuinely upset. he’s picking at the fraying edge of his jeans, neatly clipped fingernails catching on the fabric with annoyance. keith realizes in the subtlety of the movements that it’s how he’s taking out his exasperation. “i don’t want to accidentally lead you on or something.”
keith hums. “i’d tell you if you were.”
“would you?” lance asks, more skepticism than curiosity. keith’s eyes catch on the freckle right at the corner of lance’s eye. he hates it.
“i told you i liked you didn’t i? letting you know if you’re being a dick about it shouldn’t be harder than that.” keith informs him, feeling marginally annoyed.
“so what?” lance asks, eyes narrowing. “i’m just supposed to pretend—”
“yes,” keith hisses in interruption. “what else would you do about it?” it’s not supposed to sound like a challenge, it really isn’t. the inflection in his voice says otherwise.
they stare at each other for far longer than necessary, and keith tries to focus on the burning annoyance accumulating in his chest instead of losing himself in the stupid nuances of lance’s face. keith’s given one last narrowed eyed look of suspicion before lance finally breaks.
“i don’t want to fight with you.” lance admits, softening.
it makes keith’s rib cage feel like it’s splintering. “yeah, okay.” he agrees, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
/
in hindsight, his impromptu confession was nothing more than a wedge driven between them. keith isn’t sure why he ever allowed the words to unstick from the back of his teeth, all they’d manage to do was make things messy. the confession—even though in the moment had felt like dropping into bed after a long day—becomes unbearably heavy on his shoulders. keith had thought saying it out loud, at least once, to the object of his affection would help in some way. instead it’s become a festering open wound that they’re both painfully aware of.
sometimes, keith catches lance whispering with hunk and it annoys him. it’s not jealousy, no that’s reserved for the way lance fights his smiles from spreading—for keith’s benefit—whenever plaxum waves at him in the hallways. it’s just that he knows lance is talking about him, it’s obvious in the way he ducks inwards so hunk’s the only one who can hear him, obvious in the way hunk’s eyes sometimes connect with his because keith can’t help always trying to find lance in a crowded room, obvious in the way he tries in vain to discreetly nudge at his best friend to let him know he’s being watched. keith usually leaves by then. because he’s annoyed.
the type of annoyance that manifests in burning eyes and a lump in his throat because he feels like he’s being pitied and he’s always detested that. makes him feel raw and vulnerable, and it’s not anyone’s fault but his so he tries not to lash out on it.
“you look like death warmed over,” allura lets him know. she presses her thumb to the dark circles under his eyes. he doesn’t even have the energy to swat at her hand.
keith sighs. “thanks, compliment me some more.” he delivers in a deadpan.
she rolls her eyes. goes to sit herself on his desk chair, then she rolls herself to the edge of his bed so she can hover over his spread-eagled form. “midterms are over. you don’t even have an excuse to look this beat down.”
“i love it when you whisper sweet things to me.”
allura huffs. “you’re being more intolerably sarcastic than usual. just tell me what’s going on?”
“you’re not my therapist.” keith tries, a feeble attempt to fight her off a little longer. all she does is arch an eyebrow and he caves. “uhm, i might’ve told lance i was into him.”
she inhales sharply. “oh.”
keith laughs, forced and self-depreciating. “yeah, it’s going about as well as you can imagine.”
“he doesn’t like you back?” she asks, frowning in confusion.
“no.” it comes out clipped so he adds, “i don’t think i’m his type. at all.” and he should end it at that, but he doesn’t know when to stop. never has. “he used to like you...”
allura hesitates, before patting his head. if it were anyone other than her it would feel condescending, but right now it feels feather light and reassuring. “it was never a serious thing.” she reminds him, and she’s right because it lasted all of a month before allura was properly introduced to them. and they’d immediately clicked, but in the way friends do, so naturally lance didn’t pursue it because it’d been superficial. still, keith thinks it had potential—has potential. “stop,” she flicks his forehead. he flinches, groans and rubs at what he’s sure is a newly forming red mark. “you were spiraling. i could tell.” allura says in her defense.
keith whines, wants to roll onto his stomach and bury his face into his pillow in hope of suffocation. he doesn’t though, he stays flat on his back, staring up at his blank ceiling and watching from his peripheral as allura begins to idle. the thing is, prior to college he didn’t have the option of sharing his thoughts or feelings with anyone other than his older brother. but now he has allura, and he had hunk and lance but he doesn’t think it’d be appropriate to talk about them to... well them. not that he’s entirely convinced bringing allura into this is all that good of an idea. he just needs a friend, and she’s always been irrevocably good to him.
“he doesn’t like me.” he starts, a little breathless. “and that’s fine. i could live with that.” the lump in his throat swells as he tries to get the next part out. “it’s just that, he doesn’t like me, but he likes her and that feels unfair for some reason.” allura waits, sensing he’s not done. “i just need time to get over him without stupidly resenting him for being with someone else. i need time and i asked him for it. now i just feel gross and selfish.”
“you’re not—”
“i am.” keith insists. needing to feel bad. needing to feel something other than the way his heartbeat stutters every time he even so much as thinks about lance. “i’m fucking selfish.”
“you’re taking care of yourself.” allura tells him, her hand had never truly left the top of his head, she pats at it some more. “i know nothing i say will make you feel better.” she admits, which strangely enough makes him feel validated and a tiny bit better. “listen, you’ll get over him. even if i have to create a tinder profile for you or something. it won’t last forever; it won’t always be him.”
keith bites his tongue, wants to say: i want it to be him.
“you should set me up with someone.” keith tells her, because he clearly likes to throw himself to the wolves.
her hand stills. “um, is that a good idea?”
“no.” keith admits. “you should do it anyway.”
/
lance [3:15 pm]
do u want to see a movie?
hunk’s coming...
keith glares at the second message. knows that lance isn’t necessarily using his own best friend as a buffer between them—at least he’s not doing it consciously. it still rubs him the wrong way, and it probably has something to do with the fact that he’s being sensitive. but at least lance is trying for some semblance of normalcy since their last conversation. but he doesn’t want it, not yet anyway.
he ignores the message. pretends not to see it. chooses to curl up and sleep off all his feelings.
/
“keith. i haven’t really talked to you in like two weeks.” lance tells him, catching his shoulder in the hallway of the arts & humanities building. he seems a little out of breath. “are you avoiding me?”
keith wonders if he should go with honesty, but then he realizes that he’s not so sure what the answer is. was he actively trying to steer clear of lance? he doesn’t think so. that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a subconscious decision. “maybe?” he ends up admitting, sheepish in the way he shrugs but earnest in the apologetic smile he offers.
lance falters, clearly not having expected that. his hand retracts slowly back to his side, and keith fights the urge to rub at his shoulder. knows the warmth is a pseudo-warmth. it’s not actually there.
“i thought things weren’t supposed to change?” lance asks.
“this is the only way i know how to…” keith makes another vague gesture between them, he feels like he’s been doing that a lot lately. it comes out stiff mostly because he’s trying to encompass all his feelings with it, but it’s better than the words he doesn’t have. “it’s only temporary.” keith tries again, taking half a step back like he’s going to leave. lance matches it, frown turning from worry to agitation quickly.
lance crosses his arm, uncharacteristic but keith can tell that he’s being bothered by the situation. he shouldn’t have said anything—ever. “i know you, it won’t be temporary. you’ll just drift until we never speak again.”
“give me some credit.” keith says, but it’s grumbled out because they both know the truth in lance’s words.
“can’t you get over it with like over exposure? i annoy it out of you?” lance asks, hopefully.
keith waters down his smile, ignores the way his heart constricts tightly but not painfully. “i don’t think that would help.” he admits, just above a whisper. but the hall has already cleared, save for a couple of stragglers, so it’s heard anyway.
there’s a pause, and keith’s trying not to seem like a coward so he doesn’t avert his gaze even if every fiber in him is telling him to run. shiro’s told him countless times that’s not a healthy coping mechanism, that he doesn’t get to do that anymore because he’s earned stability. lance is chewing on his bottom lip nervously, keith wants to tell him to stop. except that would be admitting that his line of sight sort of exists to rest on lance’s lips and that would just make the whole situation more awkward than it already is.
“why do you even like me?” lance finally asks, sulking.
keith’s wires cross, he doesn’t mean to actually say what he’s thinking out loud but his impulse has always been stronger than his common sense. “how could i not?” he counters.
it throws lance all the way off. he releases a soft breath of surprise. “i’m really not all that great.” he tries, failing to be anything but unconvincing.
keith shrugs. then because he’s a masochist of some form he asks: “why don’t you like me?”
and it’s an inconsiderate question because lance doesn’t owe him an explanation. it’s fine for things to just be unrequited, it’s how the world works. still, that doesn’t stop him from wanting to know what exactly it is. so he asks, hoping to gain some closure.
lance looks at him for a long time, and the afternoon sun is streaming through the windows. backlighting him, bathing in the warmest of colors, making him gold and untouchable. it’s excruciatingly fitting. “i just don’t think we’re compatible.”
it’s weak, and keith would call him out on it, but he doesn’t really understand it.
“like zodiac wise?” he asks.
lance laughs, wry and weary, but all him. “no. it’s complicated.”
so uncomplicate it. “that’s fine.” keith tells him, because he thinks he’s been asking too much of him to go ahead and demand more answers. he adjusts the strap of his backpack, eyes casting around towards the door. “um, i have to get to work.” keith tells him, despite the fact that he isn’t scheduled in for another two hours.
“um okay,” lance responds, wide eyed and a little anxious. “i’ll see you around?” he asks again, turning to look at keith because he’s already begun to walk away.
keith’s steps falter, and he likes lance. but that’s the problem, he can’t give into the whim of wanting to give the other boy whatever he wants—it doesn’t constitute as getting over someone actions. “sure.” he responds, because there’s no commitment to it.
/
plaxum’s pretty, but keith doesn’t think that’s why lance likes her. she’s nice, but nowhere near soft voiced because she’s no pushover. she’s inherently an interesting girl, knows the oddest of things and goes on whirlwind spiels about the latest ocean life documentary she’s seen—she shares the same marine biology major as lance. they click. it makes sense that they like each other, in the same way it makes sense for them to inevitably end up dating. they’re the classic kind of college love that lasts a lifetime. and keith wants to be bitter, resentful, all that negative stuff, because he thinks that’s human of him, but surprisingly he isn’t. he doesn’t hate plaxum, which is a relief because he’s never wanted to be that person. to hate someone over the uncontrollable variables in life.
“she makes me feel small.” keith tells allura, morbidly slurping at the strawberry milkshake allura’s bought him. because she’s nice and rich, and knows when he wants to talk and when he just wants something sweet to distract him. and when it’s both: she’s there.
“has she said something to you?” allura asks, disbelieving because she knows what kind of person plaxum is, but also entirely ready to fight. she shares the same short fuse as keith, and it feels like kinship.
he wrinkles his nose. “no. she would never. i doubt she even knows i like him, it’s not like we’re in competition.” allura eyes him delicately. more concerned than pitying because she’s scarily empathetic, probably her seventh sense. “i mean i get why he likes her. i so get it. still, it makes me...” he trails off.
“feel bad?” allura offers. he nods, it makes her sigh. “you’re a catch. if all the matches on your tinder profile are anything to go by. are you ever planning on responding to any of them?”
“ugh,” keith groans, sliding down the booth he’s sitting in. “they all just want to hook up. i’m not about it.”
“lemme see,” allura says, making grabby hands at him. reluctantly, keith fishes out his phone from his front pocket and slides it over the flat surface of the table towards her. she clicks her tongue in distaste over the fact that he doesn’t have a passcode, says it makes him more sketch than if he did have one. her long nails clack against the screen as she swipes. “you attract a lot of white boys,” she notes, scrolling through his messages.
“it’s probably because of the rampant fetishizing of asians in society.”
allura glances up in mild amusement. “probably.” she admits. “oh! wait. what about this one?” she asks, flipping his phone over to show him one of the many matches he’d ignored. the tinder app has sort of just been sitting there taking up precious storage on his phone. he hasn’t opened it in about a week, the swiping having lost its novelty about two hours in. he sits up again, tries to lean over and squint at the picture, but his elbow accidentally catches on his milkshake and it topples over. thick strawberry pink spilling onto the table and floor before he can even react. thankfully he comes out unscathed.
before he can even bemoan the loss of his drink, he hears the mutters of the people in the shop and looks up to give them a quelling glare only for his heart to inconsiderately decide to stop working altogether. because... he makes eye contact with lance. he feels himself going hot with embarrassment, because wow he didn’t mean to look like some uncoordinated fool. and that’s where his train of thought is speeding towards—mortification—but then his gaze incidentally goes to the smaller figure beside lance and his stomach bottoms out.
he’s with plaxum, they’re here together... but lance had said he’d wait until—
keith snaps his gaze away quickly, and allura who’d futilely been dropping napkins onto the spilled mess must feel the temperature drop because she looks at him. “what—”
“i want to go.” he whispers, and it’s shaky but if he goes louder than that his voice will most definitely break. and that would be excruciating to deal with. she looks down at the spilt milkshake, and must realize it isn’t about that because her eyes go up to scan for other causes and then:
“fuck.” she hisses, and she must’ve spotted them too because she never curses. not overtly anyway.
/
lance [7:31 pm]
i know you don’t believe me
keith [7:47 pm]
i already said i did
lance [7:48 pm]
okay
now say it without it sound like a lie
keith [7:50 pm]
we’re texting
i’m not really /saying/ anything
lance [7:50 pm]
funny
keith [7:51 pm]
ik i am
but really i know you’re telling the truth
lance [7:52 pm]
i’m not buying it
keith [7:53]
why not? i’m serious
is allura sending you threatening emojis on my behalf or something?
lance [7:53 pm]
maybe so...
but seriously, i swear we just ran into each other in line.
it wasn’t a date or anything. i need u to get that.
keith [7:54 pm]
it’s fine if it was
lance [7:55 pm]
SEE! i knew u didn’t believe me!
and it wasn’t a date.
i said i would wait for you to get over it. it’d be different if i hadn’t, but i said i’d wait and i am. nothing is going to happen between me and plaxum.
i just want us to be good again.
keith [7:58 pm]
we’re fine
i already told you
also u should pursue it if you want
lance [7:59 pm]
i won’t
keith [8:00 pm]
just go after her already
it’ll probably help me get over you
lance [8:01]
no.
/
keith’s got a long weekend coming up, and he thinks maybe the universe if offering him some sort of reprieve from everything. he’s planning on taking the four-hour bus drive to where shiro’s currently holed up at his research lab. he misses his brother terribly and it just feels like a good thing. it’s thursday night, and he leaves tomorrow morning. keith’s planning on packing, now that he’s back from his shift at the student store, but there’s someone waiting outside his dorm room when he arrives.
“oh... hi.” keith says, fingers fidgeting with his keys because hunk’s there. and while they’re friends, keith can’t help but feel like there’s sides to this whole thing, and he’s pretty sure he knows where, or rather with who, hunk stands on all of this.
“hey,” hunk smiles, raising his hand up to offer a small wave. “we haven’t really…” he trails off, because it’s awkward to admit that they haven’t properly interacted since the night of the party. keith knows it’s mostly his fault for viewing lance and hunk as a package deal, but he can’t help it.
“uh yeah well,” he closes the distance jamming his key into the lock, and twisting the door open. “i sort of have things to do, but you’re welcome to come in?” he offers tentatively, because he really does have to pack tonight or else he won’t get around to it in the morning and he’ll miss the early bus to san francisco.
hunk nods, following him in. he eyes the duffel bag tossed haphazardly across the floor from where keith had recklessly dug it out of his closest this morning. “are you going somewhere?” hunk asks.
keith hums, shutting the door behind him and slowly going to his dresser to pick out three days worth of outfits. “just visiting my older brother this weekend. he’s paying for my trip up now that he’s some fancy researcher.”
“that’s cool.” hunk mumbles, keith turns to look at him from where he’s awkwardly still paused near the doorway. hunk’s wringing his hands in a clear indicator that whatever he’s about to say next he doesn’t particularly want to, but feels the need to say. keith pretends not to notice him collecting his wits, figures he knows where this is headed.
“can i ask you something?” hunk starts, sounding resigned. keith fights back the urge to reply with an entirely unsarcastic you just did. instead he nods. hunk sighs, long and drawn. “i’m not trying to pry, but what happened between you and lance? are you fighting?”
keith snorts, not unkindly just a bit bewildered. “haven’t you two been best friends since elementary school? he tells you everything.”
hunk frowns. “not this.”
“he’s probably just sparing me.” keith says, dumping an arm full of t-shirts on his bed. he rummages through them, “i told him i liked him. it got messy.”
“you what?” hunk chokes.
keith eyes him, surprised by his surprise. “he really didn’t tell you? i could’ve sworn i saw you two gossiping about me.”
“i mean we do occasionally talk about you, but not exactly that.” hunk grimaces when he sees keith just shove the shirts in his bag without actually organizing them. he strides over, plucks them back out and shakes them so he can fold them into neat creases. “i can’t believe he didn’t tell me you confessed, that’s so weird. it should’ve been something he didn’t stop talking about. i mean he like—wait,” he pauses. “why is it messy again?”
keith goes to sit on the corner of his bed, watching gratefully as hunk fills his duffel bag neatly instead of the stuffing keith had been planning on doing. “he doesn’t like me back it got weird.” then something registers in his mind, belatedly. “hold on a second. you said you talked about me. what did you guys talk about?”
his question goes ignored, because hunk’s staring at him with thinly veiled confusion. “he doesn’t like you back?” he asks, sounding far too disappointed. keith almost feels bad for him. “is that what he said?”
keith thinks back, lance had never explicitly said it, just implied it. “he said we’re not compatible. i think it was his way of saying he wasn’t remotely interested. i’ll live.” keith tacks on, shrugging for good measure. there’s a heavy silence, one where keith’s not really sure what’s going to happen but he feels it settle on him uncomfortable.
“he’s being weird lately.” hunk tells him, palms pressing flat on the pile of shirts he’s placed in the bag so that his hands have something to do.
“sorry—”
“no!” hunk interrupts, quick and fast. “no…” he repeats a little slower. “it’s not your fault. i think he’s just dealing with his own things.”
“but he’s okay?” keith asks, wondering if the whole avoidance route was the best way to go. he hasn’t really been around lance in a while, doesn’t know how to keep up with him without wanting him. having this crush makes him feel like an awful friend, he doubts it’s supposed to be this convoluted.
“yeah,” hunk smiles softly. “i think—” he hesitates. “i’ll talk to him.” he nods more to himself than anything else. “you have fun with your brother,” hunk tacks on because he’s considerate. “hopefully things will be different when you come back, or at least i hope so. you guys just need a little perspective.”
keith squints. “alright?”
he’s not really sure what’s being hedged at, but he’s sort of grateful for the reassurances because he trusts hunk.
/
san francisco doesn’t fail to remind him that despite what los angeles—with its relentless heat—has to say it’s still spring time. by the time his bus pulls into its station there’s a soft drizzle touching everything, mist and fog layering the city like silver tulle. shiro’s waiting for him there, the bright yellow of his umbrella making him stand out. there’s a little pooh bear and piglet printed on the side, because shiro’s got a weirdly soft side for cute caricatures.
keith pulls up his hood, hikes his bag onto his shoulder, and tries not roll his eyes at his brothers frantic waving when he steps off the bus. shiro doesn’t have to do all that, he’s easily the tallest person there. “you’re embarrassing.” keith lets him know, grunting a little as shiro tucks him into his side and under the umbrella when he’s within reach.
“it’s my job.” shiro tells him, smiling in the way only older brothers know how. shiro releases him, only so he can wrangle keith’s duffel bag onto his own arm.
“no one pays you to be this annoying.” keith huffs when he loses, comfortably annoyed with their banter.
“who says?” shiro asks, guiding him to where he parked his car.
/
lance [12:13 pm]
u didn’t say bye?!
ur definitely mad at me
keith [12:14 pm]
i’m not mad at u!
it’s only for three days, i’ll be back after memorial day
lance [12:15 pm]
okay…
then when u come back can we hang out?
keith [12:16 pm]
i might be busy
lance [12:17 pm]
:(
keith [12:20 pm]
this is emotional manipulation
lance [12:21 pm]
i didn’t even do anything!
keith [12:22 pm]
whatever
i’ll see you when i get back
we can hangout i guess :/
lance [12:23 pm]
okay!
have fun in sf :)
he stares at the stupid smiley face, and imagines lance grinning. the one where his eyes crinkle, his nose scrunches, and carefree laughter trickles past his pretty straight white teeth. keith groans, tossing his phone onto the empty couch cushion beside him. he’s gotten nowhere near getting over this stupid, stupid, stupid infatuation.
“wha’s th mather,” shiro asks mouth full of buttered popcorn. it startles keith, he’d forgotten his surroundings for a second. he blinks at the tv screen, watches john boyega talk about something without really understanding what he’s saying. he vaguely remembers his brother torrenting the new pacific rim movie. “hey,” shiro flicks his ear for attention.
might as well. “i know generally you’re a mess, but i feel like you do at times have good advice to offer.”
“i can’t believe you give me one backhanded compliment and it’s like someone’s pulling out your teeth.”
“we’re getting off track.” keith waves him off, ignoring the halfhearted shove he receives for his troubles. “anyway, there’s this guy…” he trails off measuring his brother’s expression.
the reaction is instantaneous. shiro’s eyebrows shoot up, and he slightly chokes on a kernel. “you’re coming to me for boy advice?” he can’t hide the incredulousness coloring his voice.
“should i not be?” keith asks, feeling a little out of place.
“no,” shiro shakes his head. “i mean yes? or—you can always come to me. it’s just that you’ve never really talked about anyone you’ve liked. have you ever liked anyone?” he questions.
keith rolls his eyes, slumping down further into the cushions. “not like this.”
“okay,” shiro says. “is that who you were texting? the guy you like?”
keith side-eyes his phone. the screen is facing downwards, there’s a four leaf clover sticker that lance had found in the library once stuck to the corner of his case. “i’m so far gone.” he whispers.
“is that a bad thing?” keith looks at his brother, and it must tell him something because shiro’s expression goes gentle. “so it’s a bad thing.” he confirms for himself.
“how do you get over someone?” keith asks, and he wants to ask how do you get over someone like lance, lance who’s handsome, funny, everything. lance who makes keith’s bad days good, and his good days better with something as simple as an arm swung around keith’s shoulders.
“there’s no good answer,” shiro admits. “sometimes all you can do is survive the storm. and that’s okay.”
it’s something their mom used to say, a lot. especially after shiro’s amputation, because suffering a loss that big and that unexpectedly left his older brother with a lot of suffering—and not just the physical kind. keith rolls his eyes, because the only other option would be choking up and he’s had enough of that for one life time. “thanks.” he mumbles out, because shiro’s always been the best at making him feel heard.
“no problem kiddo,” shiro tells him, reaching over to ruffle keith’s hair like he’s some twelve-year-old kid on the schoolyard. it’s annoying, but keith lets him.
/
ultimately, keith makes a decision when he returns to campus. it’s one he does without consulting allura. which means that somewhere in the back of his mind he’s fully aware that it’s a bad idea. the thing is he just doesn’t want to be talked out of it, mostly because he feels like all he’s been doing is complaining about wanting to get over lance without actively doing anything about it. it’s mostly done out of impatience, because he’s never really liked all that nonsense about time healing all wounds. he’s tired of sitting around, moping over the unfairness of it all. he’s no stranger to that sort of thing, he’s been dealt his fair share of bad hands over the years, so he shouldn’t be so stuck on this one miniscule crush. he’s always been objective of most things, he doesn’t know what it is about lance that makes him lose his mind. he thinks maybe if he could pinpoint it then it’d be easier for him to get over the other boy.
but he can’t figure it out. too many reasons twisting about that he can’t just find the one. it makes him agitated, like lance is an itch he can’t scratch, so his recklessness builds and he makes a decision.
he messages the first person at the top of his tinder matches, doesn’t waste time with small talk, just makes sure to set something up for that night. he probably shouldn’t, because he’s knows that the unwritten rules of this sort of thing means that something as quick and hasty as what he’s set up sort of implies hooking up. that’s not what he wants, nor what he’ll allow to happen, but he needs a distraction. and it’s unfair to the guy he talks to, but he doubts either of them expect much from the encounter.
keith doesn’t bother changing, just heads to their designated meeting location at the boardwalk once he’s dropped his stuff off at home. he thinks he looks fine enough, and even if he doesn’t it’s not like he’s trying to impress the guy.
the date starts off like most, awkward. the guy’s name is anthony, and he’s handsome with a devilish sort of grin. they get on well enough, talk about mundane things, and at some point even pause to buy snow cones from an old man—keith doesn’t mention the fact that he doesn’t like snow cones, feels like it’s just ice drenched in syrup he can barely taste. they stroll, play some of the amusement games, until it’s well into the night and keith feels like he’s had enough.
“i think i’m gonna head home.” keith tells him. his date doesn’t look the least bit surprised.
“you want a ride?” he offers, smiling in a friendly sort of manner.
and because keith doesn’t feel like paying thirty dollars for an uber he agrees. gives him the general location of the campus dorm rooms without giving away which building houses him, not that he thinks anthony would be one of those creepy relentless dudes, but he can never be too careful. the ride is for the most part silent, save for the music, and it’s pleasant. like they both know it’s just the end of the day, and keith thinks anthony’s a good guy. that makes him feel sort of sad.
anthony pulls up to the congregation of campus buildings, parks and gets out of the car to open keith’s door because he continues to insist on chivalry. keith laughs quietly, “thanks.” he says, stepping out and into the sidewalk. time stalls.
“so this is it?” anthony asks, seeming resigned.
“sorry,” keith tells him, shifting his weight. “i was trying to…” he trails off not really wanting to explain it.
“it’s fine,” he says, but he steps a little closer. gives keith time to back away if he doesn’t want it, but keith doesn’t move. figures they both know this is a dead end, but not minding enough to deny a simple kiss. just to see what happens. anthony presses in, and keith sort of tiptoes because the other boy’s tall—he can’t help himself, he thinks: if this were lance all i would have to do is tilt my chin up. it’s stale, just two mouths against each other and then it’s over and done with, and keith feels… unsurprisingly nothing.
they smile regretfully at each other. “well, if you ever change your mind. don’t forget about me, you’re cool keith.”
keith nods, pursues his lips together and wonders if he’s cursed to think of lance whenever he’s with someone else. anthony sighs, dipping his head in acknowledgement before walking around the front of his car to slip into the driver’s side. keith watches him pull away until the he makes a turn and disappears.
his fingernails dig into the soft skin of his palm, he’s on edge. because now he can say he tried, and still. there’s a current of lancelancelancelance running through his mind, to the beat of his thumping heart and it’s torture.
“you said you couldn’t hang out tonight.”
keith whips his head at the sound of the familiar voice, so fast that it could’ve given him whiplash. he winces, lance is standing near the gate of the dorming community, he’s carrying a stack of textbooks in his arms, the one spine keith can manage to read at this distance is about oceanic landscapes.
“i—uh, wh-what?” keith stutters out, feeling a little caught.
lance is scowling, looking more hurt than angry. keith walks over more because he wants to rub out the annoyed dip from where lance’s brow is furrowed than anything else. “you said you’d be too tired from your trip to hang out with me.” he says the last bit in an accusatory fashion.
“well,” keith tries, but he’s not sure what to say or why the energy between them is so hostile. he fidgets, before reaching out to steal half the books out of lance’s arms because it’ll make him feel a little less guilty. not that he should even feel that way. he sort of expects lance to fight him on it, but he doesn’t. “that was sort of last minute.” he confesses, bumping lance’s shoulder so that he’ll walk to the gate.
lance stands his ground, glaring, for another minute before sighing and pulling out his student id to swipe at the gate. “are you going to see him again?”
keith considers his options, but it’s not that much of decision. he’s never really liked lying to lance. “probably not.”
“he was cute.” lance says, but he seems upset.
“okay.” keith agrees, feeling like they’re walking on a ledge.
“i mean he mustn’t have been that awful. you let him kiss you.”
“he wasn’t. he was fine.” keith admits, trying to ignore the static in the air.
“so why aren’t you seeing him again?” lance asks, and because keith’s finely tuned to all of lance’s mannerisms he catches the white knuckled grip he has on his textbooks. he stares at it.
“why are you asking me all these questions?” he questions, turning his gaze to lance’s face. it holds an impassive expression, but keith can read between the lines. knows there’s something going on because lance actively avoids meeting his eyes.
“we’re still friends. i’m just curious.”
“these questions don’t feel friendly.” keith tells him, slowing his steps. lance reluctantly follows until they’re at a standstill.
lance hugs his half of the books close to his chest, “i just didn’t like seeing that…” he whispers, but the soft breeze carries the words to keith.
“okay. i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. i promise.” keith says automatically, trying to see the blue of lance’s eyes but they’re downcast. the streetlamp makes his lashes cast long shadows down his face, and when lance finally looks up keith’s breath catches. his eyes are glassy, look like two gems and it would be beautiful, but keith recognizes it for what it is. lance is close to tears.
“don’t do that,” lance says, thick with emotion. “don’t give in to what i want so easily just because you like me.”
“why not?” keith asks, voice low because he feels like they’re on the precipice of something important.
“b-because,” lance cuts himself off, and keith can’t help himself. he shifts his share of the books into one arm, steps closer and sort of just lets his hand go up to cradel the side of lance’s face. lance’s breath comes out shuddery, but he leans into it, eyes shutting and causing the tears to finally fall. keith catches them with the pad of his thumb, and his heart aches.
“why are you crying?” he asks gently, wants to press in and bump their noses together, but that’s not—he’s not allowed.
lance doesn’t answer, his eyes are still shut, lashes sticky with wetness, and keith doesn’t know what to do. doesn’t know what’s causing this, if it’s him or something completely unrelated. lance turns slightly, nuzzles more into keith’s palm and then… and then he presses a gentle kiss there. it’s light, almost like a whisper of its own and it makes keith’s pulse freeze and then pick up at twice the rate.
he takes a deep breath trying to steady himself. it causes lance’s eyes to snap open. and they’re bright with war, even at this time of night with nothing but fluorescent light shining down on them. “i think i’m being a coward.” lance says.
keith doesn’t know what to do with that.
/
keith’s still heaving by the time hunk manages to open his dorm room. his shirt is sticking to his back uncomfortably with sweat, because los angeles is still hot even when the sun’s taken its rest.
“keith?” hunk sounds surprised. “did you run here? from where?” he asks, opening the door wider as keith shoves his way in. keith drops the textbooks he’s still holding onto hunk’s desk carefully, making sure they don’t topple because they’re checked out under lance’s name.
“you- know- something-” he pants out, flopping onto the carpeted floor.
“he knows a lot of things,” allura says. keith turns to look at where she’s sitting on the empty bed of hunk’s roommate, rolo, she’s got her computer resting on her lap.
what’s she doing here? “what-” is all he manages to get out because his breath hasn’t come back to him. he waits a full minute. eyes bouncing between the two of them. “are you a thing?” he finally asks, worries forgotten for a millisecond.
hunk blushes, “um…”
“yes.” allura tells him, point blank. “old news.” she waves a dismissive hand. “now why are you here? looking like that.” she points at where he’s still breathing far too heavy to be classified as normal. and right. he’d come here with a purpose.
“lance likes me doesn’t he?” he glares at hunk.
“what?” allura screeches at the same time hunk stutters out a suspiciously nervous: “i don’t what you’re talking about.”
“he likes me. i know he does. why—”
“keith,” hunk whines. “please don’t ask me more, i’m bad under pressure and i’m really trying to respect lance’s privacy. please.”
“just.” keith grits his teeth, annoyed because everything is so difficult and he just wants to hold lance’s hand, but there’s to many things fighting him at every turn. “tell me if he likes me. that’s all. just confirm it for me.”
“you just said you knew.” allura tells him. he throws her a nasty glare, so she puts her hands up in defeat.
“he likes you…” hunk tells him. and it’s earnest, and it’s the unfiltered truth, and keith’s feels like there’s someone wringing his insides, but he’s indescribably warm.
/
keith [2:05 am]
i know you’re still awake
i know you like me
i know you know i still like you
what i don’t know is why we’re not together
i like you, please just let me like you.
lance [4:34 am]
it’s complicated.
/
“did i do something to make him feel like he can’t talk to me?” keith asks, genuinely frightened over the prospect. coincidentally, lance is much better at avoiding keith than keith ever was at avoiding lance. which means he hasn’t seen or talked to lance in a couple of days, and he’s so tired. feels a bone deep exhaustion over the fact that they keep missing each other like this.
hunk stops feeding on of the campus squirrels long enough to give him a look. “of course not, lance is just thinking too much.”
“he’s scared to talk to me,” keith guesses.
hunk lightly tosses a cool ranch dorito at a particularly chubby squirrel, it sniffs the air but doesn’t actually get close, too shy. which is odd considering keith’s had to fight off more than one squirrel in order to stop from having his everything bagel stolen by them just this morning.
“well yeah,” hunk tells him. “not all of us have the luxury of impulsivity.” he doesn’t say it unkindly, just from experience. like he gets where lance’s trepidation is coming from.
“is that what happened between you and allura?” he asks, because he never got around to it the other night.
hunk shrugs, watching in mild delight as the squirrel tentatively crawls towards the chip, tail twitching. “sort of? i mean i liked her, i just never planned on saying it out loud. i’m sure that’s the hard part for lance too.”
keith sighs. “is it though? i know you told me he liked me, but i saw the way he looked at plaxum.”
“crushes don’t have to be exclusive. you can have more than one at the same time, for different reasons.” hunk explains, using that voice he usually reserves when he helps keith memorize formulas.
“how do you know he doesn’t like her more than me?” keith asks, watching with muted amusement as the squirrel finally snatches the chip up, looks at hunk for a still second, and then runs up its tree like it’s stolen something.
hunk pushes himself up from the squat he’d been positioned in. “he doesn’t.” he seems to consider his next words. “he told me that they went on a date. before you ever said anything.”
keith feels a bit nauseated with anticipation.
hunk smiles, like keith’s the squirrel and what he’s about to say is a cool ranch dorito chip. “after you told me you’d confessed i did talk to him, and it’s not really my place to tell you why he kept that from you. but,” and now he’s grinning and it makes keith feel like things will be okay, “he said that they went on date, and that she was great, but that it felt like hanging out with me or allura. he told me the whole time he couldn’t stop thinking of you. that’s what we used to talk about when you weren’t around.”
oh.
/
keith’s trying to be productive, there’s a pile of dirty laundry that’s about to go sentient at the corner of his room so he decides that sulking around over lance’s evasion tactics isn’t going to do him any good. he tosses them all into his hamper, and trods to the communal laundry room of the science department because they’ve got the better dryers, the ones that don’t snag and unravel knit sweaters, which keith doesn’t have any of but he likes to be precautious.
it’s early in the morning, which means that everyone’s either at breakfast or still fast asleep. keith would appreciate the solitude, but unfortunately he pauses at the threshold—frowning—because he can see someone in there. they’re sitting on top of one of the dryers, which is against the rules and. oh.
keith almost drops his clothes, because that’s lance.
he’s wearing a white long sleeve shirt, because the laundry room is always located in the basement and there’s a perpetual chill down here, and there are cute blue lion slippers adorning his feet as he swings them idly, his heels thumping dully against the metal of the machine. he’s scrolling through his phone, earbuds in place, and completely unaware that keith’s in the same room as him. and he’s so soft to look at.
fuck. keith doesn’t move for a second, frozen in the wild rush of affection that courses through his veins. and lance isn’t even doing anything particularly special, but he’s missed him and… and maybe he’s a little in love with lance. a lot in love probably.
he places his clothes anywhere—doesn’t really care about that in this moment—he crosses the room in quick strides, feels like if he doesn’t maybe it’ll give lance time to up and disappear like he’s managed for the last couple of days. and lance still doesn’t notice him. as keith closes in he can hear lance humming along to whatever song is playing from his phone. and keith’s so irrevocably fond. he doesn’t really falter, just steps into the space between lance’s knees and smoothly tugs away his earbuds. he sort of expects lance to startle, but he must not be fully awake yet because all he does is look up from his phone with a soft noise of confusion.
keith places his hands flat on either side of lance.
“oh.” is all lance manages, it’s breathy.
“hey,” keith tells him. ducking his head, a little so he can catch lance’s gaze.
“hi,” lance responds, all quiet. rose dusts the bridge of his nose, and the tips of his ears. “it’s monday. i didn’t think you’d do laundry today, let alone the morning.” he says as if he needs to explain why they’ve run into each other.
keith hums in acknowledgement, drinks in lance’s pretty features. the slope of his nose, the dark blue of his eyes, the curve of his cupid’s bow. the want rages in him. “i’ve missed you.” he confesses in the centimeters between them.
“don’t say things like that.” lance warns, but he doesn’t move an inch back.
“why?” keith asks, feeling bold and elated because they’ve fallen past the precipice. they both knows this. he ducks down lower, because lance keeps shrinking into himself, and keith wants to see him. “does this make it harder for you to pretend you don’t like me?”
lance sighs, glancing up and he’s so tangible almostalmostalmost his. “you’re so stubborn.”
“only for the things i want.”
“stop.” lance whines, he tilts his head up to the ceiling, eyes pressed close as if he’s asking for strength. “this isn’t happening.”
keith feels himself smile with amusement, he gives into another one of his wants. wraps his arms tightly around lance’s waist, hooks his chin over his shoulder and sighs in pure contentedness. he feels lance stiffen in his hold, before he eventually returns the hug. lighter than the way keith’s holding him, but that’s okay because he’s still figuring it out. “say you like me.” keith tells him.
lance waits, fingers tapping nervously against keith’s skin. “i like you.” he admits, soft but it feels so loud. especially when he presses his cheek into keith’s hair. and this is right, this is where they belong.
“i—” he stalls. “yeah me too.” he ends up saying, because he’s never liked lying to lance and the word like feels a little too small.
“what? no.” lance argues, shoving at him until they separate again. keith’s arms are still wrapped around his waist, but now they’re staring at each other. “you have to say it too.” and lance is upset, only a little. but keith can tell because he’s doing that thing where he unconsciously pouts, bottom lip jutting out and entirely too inviting. keith laughs, doesn’t surge forward because he has the time to go slow.
he brushes his nose with lance’s, nudges him until they’re at an angle and then he kisses him. softly because it’s what lance deserves, and he catches lance’s bottom lip it tastes of peach chapstick. reluctantly, he lets go because he wants this to last, possibly forever. no. definitely forever. lance parts his lips slightly, probably to steal the air from keith’s lungs—it’s fine he’ll let him. and he doesn’t know how long, but they kiss and it’s slow, open mouthed, and everything he’s ever wanted out of life. it’s all the pleasant things he’s ever felt in his nineteen years boiling down to this: lance’s lips against his. he feels one of lance’s hands travel up the base of his spine, the other tangling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck and he makes a pleased little noise. he feels lance smile, presses against teeth for a second because of it. he pulls back, but he’s followed. and he feels this kiss, in the same way he feels his heartbeat thrumming at his fingertips.
lance is the one that breaks away eventually, and his face is flushed, lips pink and he’s smiling, shy and beautiful. “i still want you to say it.”
it’s probably because keith’s caught up in the ghost feeling of lance’s mouth that he says, “okay, i love you.” and he’s going to go in for more kisses, but lance reels back, having to catch himself from losing balance with his hand. it slaps harshly against the dryer, echoing.
“um.”
keith squints at him. “you said you wanted me to say it.”
“no yeah,” lance supplies, in that endearingly contradictory way of his. “i thought you were going to say something else. that’s all.”
“you can pretend you didn’t hear it,” keith offers, because he’s not going to take it back.
“i won’t.” lance tells him, and he’s gone timid again.
“was it too much?”
lance shakes his head. “i feel like that too.” he admits, and keith doesn’t push him to say the exact words, because he understands that things are still tentative and he doesn’t quite get why but he’s willing to wait. “you can kiss me again.” lance tells him, so he does because he’s never been one to deny lance anything.
/
they’re at another party, and it’s the same but it’s also different.
this time they’re both squished together into a loveseat, it’s pushed right under the window so a cool breeze filters in it’s also the perfect spot for them to pass the time people watching. neither of them are drinking, they’re just here because lance had been asked by his work friend—nyma—to be the designated driver and he’d quietly asked keith if he wanted to come keep him company… as if keith wouldn’t drop anything and everything just to spend the next few hours sitting next to lance.
keith tilts his head back against the chair, and from this angle all he can see jaw. he lets his hand drift upwards, tracks the bone structure with gentle fingers. lance blinks his gaze away from where nyma’s unsuccessfully trying to master the karaoke machine some frat guy had randomly set up. he hums at keith in question, because he still thinks keith does this sort of stuff to get his attention. to tell him something. when in reality keith’s just trying to feel, to learn him. “what?” he asks, reclining closer to the arm so that he can look at keith properly.
“nothing.” keith tells him, like he always does whenever he finds himself touching lance and being questioned for it. “i just like your face.”
lance rolls his eyes, laughs just on the edge of nervous and that’s so good. because it means he feels the same sort of fluttering in his stomach that keith feels for him. “you’re annoyingly bold.” he tells keith.
“it’s my one redeeming personality trait.”
lance frowns at him, reaching over to move keith’s bangs out of his eyes a little. and he still hesitates, but he does it all the same so keith doesn’t mind the shyness of it. “you’re great. stop being a liar.”
keith grins, “you think i’m great?” he asks, because he’s not above teasing.
“shut up,” lance tells him, looking away. “i’m not going to feed your ego.”
keith laughs, leaning into lance to press a soft peck at the jaw he’d been admiring. he pulls away, happy as he notes that he can still make lance turn a pretty shade.
“i didn’t realize you two were dating?”
they both look towards the new voice—towards plaxum’s voice—and the question isn’t asked in jealousy nor is it intrusive, it’s just curious. keith feels himself retract from lance’s space, puts about a good inch between them so that their thighs don’t even touch. he’s trying to be altruistic, because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, especially hers, even though being in love with lance feels like his basic human right. he stays silent, smiles at her so that she knows he’s heard, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. he’s been letting lance set the pace because he doesn’t want to ruin things, so he’s not really sure how to answer her question.
“it’s new.” lance supplies, and it’s neither a confirmation nor a denial. and keith didn’t even realize how much it would actually bother him to not be called lance’s boyfriend until he isn’t. from his peripheral he sees the beginning of lance’s smile. “but um,” lance continues, keith watches him. “yeah, he’s…” he pauses, makes eye contact with keith as if he’s suddenly realized they haven’t really defined whatever they are. “…mine?” lance finishes, looking back to plaxum as if she’ll be the one to give him confirmation. it’s endearing as hell.
keith feels something unspooling in his stomach him, like lance is making him come undone.
plaxum giggles into her palm. “well i’m happy for you.” she tells them, mostly lance because keith doesn’t really know her that well. “you haven’t seen nyma by any chance have you?” she asks, changing the subject.
lance laughs, full-bodied. it ends with him leaning heavily against keith. “the sound of a cat being killed for the past twenty minutes? that’s her.” he points to where nyma’s screeching a rendition of whitney houston’s i want to dance with somebody.
“oh god,” plaxum says under her breath, horrified. “i’m gonna go stop that. i’ll see you guys later.” she waves, smiling wide even as she leaves. keith follows her with his eyes, watching as she gravitates towards the other girl. she seems to be trying to convince nyma that no one particularly wants to hear her “sing” but it doesn’t seem to work because nyma just ends up shoving the other unused mic into plaxum’s hand and continues butchering her way through the classic 80’s bop.
keith’s distracted by the interaction, enough that he doesn’t really expect the way lance melts into him, hugs at keith from the side. “sometimes you still scare me,” lance confesses, voice low but they’re close enough that keith doesn’t have to strain to hear. “it’s on me though.” lance adds on lamely at the end.
pausing, keith tries to look down at lance but can’t. not in their current position, lance cuddles into him the longer his silence lasts. “you’re scared of me?” keith finally asks, confused.
lance sighs, breath warm and ghosting against keith’s collarbones. “not really, i think i just have anxiety over this. over us. you have this really apathetic attitude about the things you don’t care about and i don’t know. i guess i always feel like i’ll eventually fall into that category.”
and that does it, keith moves lance away by the shoulders, but makes sure not to let them go. “are you serious?” he asks, slowly realizing that lance must be offering an explanation as to why it took them so long. “when have i ever been apathetic towards you? you literally have my undivided attention all the time.”
“i know,” lance tells him, smiling sheepishly. “i’m just scared of losing it. it doesn’t make sense, but i don’t think anxiety ever does. that’s why i didn’t want to start anything with you, even when i actually wanted to. things that don’t start can never end. yknow?”
he tilts his head cutely at the end, keith can’t help but cup his hands around lance’s face. “i know.” keith reassures him, “but i’m letting you know now, that you’re the love of my life. i have very real plans to marry you in the future.”
lance chokes, “who says that?” his voice is high, flustered. “who even says that out loud? who?”
“i’m being serious.”
lance pouts, “this is unfair. you’re so unfair.” keith wants to kiss him, something tells him to wait. they stare at each other some more, and this amount of eye contact should make him highly uncomfortable, but lance is beautiful to look at and it’s his favorite thing to do so this is nothing. “you know your eyes are really dark. like pitch black,” lance tells him, the side of his keith’s mouth quirks upwards. “but when i really look into them, they sort of melt.” and he’s searching, so keith lets him look. “they’re wine right now.”
“oh?” keith says, feeling a buzz all over his skin as lance fists a hand into his shirt and gently tugs him closer.
his eyelids flutter, just as their lips brush against each other. then spoken into keith’s skin. lance tells him, makes him believe his next words: “i love you.” he says, voice muffled because he’s already pressing into the kiss. and it’s the first time lance has said it, like actually said it. it makes keith feel like he’s dripping in honey, warm and gold. electricity courses through his veins as lance’s kisses him soft, but firm and keith’s so in love.
/
“i mean right under my nose,” lance says, pointing accusatory fingers at hunk and allura who are sitting right across them in the mess hall. “the audacity.”
“oh save it.” allura tells him, “you’re ecstatic that we can go on double dates now.”
lance frowns, pulls back his hand and keith takes it as an opportunity to tangle their fingers together. “you’ve made some points,” and he’s still glaring at their two friends but he squeezes keith’s hand back and it feels like time stops, so that they can revel in the sublime feeling of being together right here, right now.