Chapter Text
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“Coming from nothing and ending up with a family was something I never expected to happen for me. And yet, every day I spent with them, I came to understand what home is.”
Keith Kogane, ‘Round Trip’
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The first time Lance met Keith Kogane, he was in first period English and sitting next to Hunk. Lance wasn’t the best at English; it was probably one of his least favorite classes. Fortunately for him, freshman public school English classes tend to be easy.
The door opens a few minutes after the bell rings, and Lance wonders who came late on the first day of school. He looks curiously at the entrance, and sees a figure step into the room. He’s a boy, with longish black hair to his neck and downcast eyes. Hunched shoulders and a scowl on his face, but an undeniably nervous set to his stance.
“Who’s that?” Lance whispers to Hunk, because their town is small enough for everyone to know everyone from middle school.
“Some new kid, probably,” Hunk replies quietly.
“Hey, Keith!” comes a new voice, and Lance swivels in his seat to see Matt Holt in the back. He’s waving at the new kid, who relaxes his shoulders just a little.
“Everyone,” their teacher says as the boy-Keith-makes his way to the desk next to Matt that he’s gesturing for Keith to sit down in.
“This is Keith,” their teacher continues, “he’s just moved here from Texas, and I expect you all to be welcoming towards him. I see that Matt already knows him?”
“He lives next door,” Matt says, “I can help him out with everything.”
“Perfect,” their teacher nods and then turns to the chalkboard to start class. Halfway through the hour and a half period, the teacher decides to start a group activity, and she counts people off into partners. By sheer coincidence, Keith and Lance both count off the number five, which means they’re together. Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in meeting this new guy.
It wasn’t often someone new moved here, of all places.
Keith doesn’t seem keen on moving, so Lance makes his way easily to the desk next to Keith. He drops his stuff where Matt used to be sitting and grabs the sheet of paper with questions to ask. Keith doesn’t say a word.
“Um, hey,” Lance takes matters into his own hands, “I’m Lance.”
“Keith,” Keith grumbles. His arms are crossed, and he seems a little reserved.
“So,” Lance continues awkwardly, “I guess we just have to answer these questions. Um, they look mostly general, the first one is what are your hobbies. Not very English related, don't you think?”
“I think we’re supposed to get to know our classmates better,” Keith speaks up, finally, “or something. Icebreakers, kind of.”
“Huh,” Lance leans back in his chair, “normally teachers do that with the whole class together. Oh well, not that big of a deal. So, Keith, what are your hobbies?”
Keith blinks, and crosses his arms tighter, “you go first.”
“Oh come on,” Lance argues, “I asked first!”
Keith just glares. Lance tries not to take it personally.
“Fine,” Lance rolls his eyes, “I like swimming a lot. And drawing. And video games and stuff, I guess. Classic high school hobbies.”
Keith nods in acknowledgment. There’s a pause, and Lance waits.
“Baseball,” is what Keith finally says, “I play baseball.”
“Cool!” Lance responds sincerely, “what position?”
“Shortstop.”
“I’ll be honest with you,” Lance jokes, “I know nothing about baseball. No idea what the shortstop does. Honestly, the only sports I know about are water ones.”
“Infielder,” Keith offers, “we...run around and catch balls and stuff.”
“You really know the terminology,” Lance snorts.
“I don’t pay attention to the rules as much,” Keith admits, “I just play the game. Use muscle memory to figure out what to do.”
“Oh, I get that,” Lance nods, “when I swim, a lot of it is just muscle memory too. For example, a flipturn is always just instinct. I see a wall, I turn. So I totally get you.”
“What do you swim?” Keith asks. His arms loosen against his chest and Lance perks up at having Keith finally ask him a question.
“Depends,” Lance shrugs, “we can only swim two events per meet plus a relay, which sucks, but usually I do the 500 and then breast or back, depending on what coach needs me for. And a relay, usually breaststroke in the medley. And you probably have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“No idea,” Keith shakes his head, “what’s a 500?”
“Twenty laps freestyle,” Lance answers, “I always lose count. If they didn’t stick these little card things with the lap number into the water, I would never know what lap I was on. And that would definitely not end well.”
“That sounds like a lot,” the look on Keith’s face is impressed, “you must be good.”
“Thanks,” Lance grins; he prides himself on his swimming, “I am pretty good, if I do say so myself. I like to think my breaststroke could kill a man.”
“How?” Keith raises an unimpressed eyebrow, “that doesn’t even make sense.”
“Don’t think too much about it,” Lance waves it away, “I’m just good at breast.”
“I’m good at shortstop,” Keith replies. Lance cracks a grin; Keith started off somewhat shy, but now that his shell is breaking, he’s actually pretty cool.
“So what else are you into?” Lance asks, “I gave you lots of hobbies, and you only gave me one. Which is totally not fair.”
“Oh,” Keith turns red and looks pointedly at the floor, “um, I don’t really have any.”
“You're lying,” Lance declares, “everyone has a few hobbies at least. Come on, I promise I won’t make fun?”
Keith hesitates, before giving in. “Reading,” is his answer, “I like reading. And writing. And weapons. Is that enough?”
“That’s enough,” Lance confirms, “and that sounds fun. I can never focus on books, so I don’t read, like, at all. What kind of writing do you do? Because I also hate writing, so I can’t see how you could do it as a hobby.”
“Books,” Keith says, “like fiction, stories and stuff. I wanna be an author someday.”
“Oh!” Lance brightens, “dude, that’s awesome!”
“Really?” Keith blushes, “thanks,” Lance is a little red, too. Which is weird.
“No problem,” Lance replies, “what about the weapons? Are you going to, like, kill me or something? Are you a serial killer? Or an undercover assassin?”
“What? No,” Keith rolls his eyes, “I just like using them. I throw knives and fence and shoot and stuff. But not to hurt people, obviously. It’s just for fun.”
“Ah,” Lance nods, “a little terrifying, but in a cool way.”
“Hey!” Keith protests, but it’s weak and Lance can’t help but laugh. He likes this new kid, he decides. He’s a little standoffish at first, but he’s growing on Lance.
Keith laughs a little, too, a tiny smile on his face. It’s nothing, his face barely pulling up at the edges, but Lance finds himself grinning widely back.
“Okay,” Lance gets back to business once the moment’s over, “what’s the next question on here?”
“We’re out of time,” Keith says, and Lance looks up and sees that Matt is starting to make his way to Lance’s desk. They lost track of time, Lance realizes. Keith is surprisingly easy to talk to, and Lance enjoys it. He wants to talk to Keith again.
“Okay,” Lance blinks, “well, bye, then, I guess.”
“Wait,” Keith holds out a hand, “there’s an assignment at the end of this. Due in two days. We have to work on it together.”
“Oh,” Lance relaxes, “alright. That’s cool. We can just meet after school?”
“Sure,” Keith agrees, “where?”
“Keith!” Matt is standing at Lance’s desk, “So it turns out soccer starts today, not tomorrow. And Shiro’s got boxing. I’m sorry to do this, but...”
“It’s fine, Matt,” Keith sighs, “I’ll do it. It’s no problem.”
“Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver,” Matt says gratefully, and then turns to Lance, “hey, Lance. Could you maybe get out of my seat, dude?”
“Sorry, Matt,” Lance smiles, he’s pretty friendly with Matt. He doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’d be friends with Keith, though.
Lance turns to Keith, “so, where d’you wanna meet?”
“Uh, turns out I have to babysit,” Keith huffs, “so it has to be where I live.”
“That’s cool,” Lance nods, “meet me by the library after school?”
Keith just nods. Lance waves before heading back to his seat next to Hunk.
“Who’d you get?” Lance asks Hunk.
“Matt,” Hunk replies, “he’s always fun to work with. You?”
“New kid,” Lance glances back at Keith, who’s now talking to Matt.
“Keith?” Hunk follows Lance’s gaze, “what’s he like?”
“He’s actually pretty nice. He plays baseball and likes to write. And he’s easy to talk to. We didn’t even get past the first question before running out of time.”
“Really?” Hunk laughs, “dude, there were like, ten questions.”
“Shut up. We lost track of time.”
“Sounds like you made a friend.”
“Yeah,” Lance sighs happily, “I think I did.”
Lance sees Keith in AP human geography, and then in geometry. Both times Keith is with Matt, but Lance waves at him before going to sit next to Hunk. Keith just nods in acknowledgment, which is more than enough for Lance. Lance also sees him during lunch, when he walks past the quad to see Keith and Matt sitting with two sophomores, Shiro and Allura. Lance had a crush on both of them in middle school, but now that attraction’s faded. He’s never talked to Allura, and he’s only had one or two polite conversations with Shiro because the guy is suspiciously nice.
Lance wonders how Keith knows them. He waves again as he passes, and like every other time, Keith looks surprised to be noticed. This time he waves back awkwardly, and Lance feels his face heating up as he grins. He pointedly looks away from Shiro and Allura, and decides to leave before he does something he’ll regret.
By the end of the day, Lance is pretty excited to spend time with Keith again. He wants to be this kid’s friend. So he waits patiently by the entrance for Keith to join him, saying bye to Hunk and only feeling a little bad that he’s making his best friend walk home alone. Hunk decides to walk with Shay, anyway, so Lance doesn’t think he minds. Lance taps his foot on the ground and leans against the wall, waiting.
Keith comes after five or so minutes, coming from the left with a face red from exertion, and Lance immediately knows what happened.
“The science blocks are so far away, am I right?”
“Yeah,” Keith pants, “sorry I’m late.”
“Not a problem,” Lance replies, “should we go?”
Keith looks at his watch, “um, we need to stop at the preschool.”
“Preschool? Why?”
“I’m babysitting, remember?” Keith says, “I gotta pick her up.”
“Who exactly are you babysitting?” Lance asks as Keith starts walking in the direction of the preschool, which is a few blocks down from the high school. Lance doesn’t mind having a kid around; he loves kids. But Keith hasn’t offered much information, and Lance is very cautious. Is Keith good with kids?
“Matt’s sister,” Keith answers, “everyone else is busy, she likes me, and it’s actually pretty fun. She’s a great kid, so I don’t mind spending time with her.”
That’s really sweet, Lance thinks. But Lance hasn’t seen Keith around this town ever, so he’s pretty curious as to how he started babysitting Matt’s sister.
“I was wondering,” Lance says as they turn a corner, “you just moved here?”
Something in Keith’s expression clouds, and he looks away, “yeah.”
“How do you know Matt, then?” Lance asks, “if you didn’t know anyone else from school.”
“He lives next door,” is Keith’s answer, “I met Matt’s family over the summer.”
“I see,” Lance nods, “was Texas fun?”
The clouds return to Keith’s eyes. “Not really. I like it better here.”
“It is pretty great here,” Lance agrees, ignoring his curiosity about whatever makes Keith’s eyes darken like that. But it seems like something personal, some sort of deep hurt that he moved here to escape. Lance doesn’t know what that's like; most people want to get the hell out of here. Leaving is their escape. Lance isn’t in either of those camps, he’s lived here with his family all his life, but he wants to stay here for the rest of it. He loves this place, even if it is small and everyone knows your business.
It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows Keith’s.
They’ve reached the preschool by now, and Keith pushes open the door and walks to the front desk. Lance follows, waving at the front desk lady who Lance probably knows from somewhere. The lady smiles at him and Keith, but Keith’s face stays neutral.
“I’m here to pick up Katie Holt,” Keith says, leaning his arms on the desk.
“Okay,” the lady starts flipping through a sheet of paper, “name?”
“Keith Kogane. I should be listed as one of her contacts?”
“Yes, I see you,” the lady nods, crossing something off her paper, “you’re a new addition to the list. What’s your relation to Katie?”
“Uh…” Keith actually has to think for a second, “babysitter, I guess.”
Something in his voice makes Lance think it’s a lot more than that.
“Okay,” the lady says, “you’re free to go get her.”
“Thanks,” Keith nods quickly, before motioning for Lance to follow him. Keith takes Lance to the Green room, and Lance grins as he passes the door to the Blue room.
“I was in the Blue room,” Lance offers, “Katie’s in Green?”
“Apparently so,” Keith says, “Matt says him and Shiro were in Black.”
“You would’ve totally been in Red,” Lance decides.
“Why?”
“Dunno,” Lance shrugs, “it just feels like you. If you’d grown up here.”
“I wish I did,” comes Keith’s mumble, so quiet Lance almost didn’t hear it. He chooses to pretend he didn’t, because they’re at the door to the Green room now and Lance doesn’t want to push Keith into revealing anything personal now.
The door is propped open, and Lance can see a group of four or so kids who haven’t been picked up yet. Lance sees the teacher, Coran, who Lance remembers used to teach the Blue room when he was in preschool, entertaining them with a story. He looks up when Keith and Lance enter, though, and he smiles.
“Lance!” Coran stands up brightly, “long time no see, how are you?”
“I’m good, how are you?” Lance asks politely.
“Wonderful,” Coran says, “you’ve grown so much over the years.”
“Guess so,” Lance laughs. He’s always liked Coran. He likes to visit him every once in a while, especially since he’s got a niece and nephew who are at the elementary school.
“I’m here for Pidge,” Keith speaks up, and Lance blinks at the name change.
“Oh, you must be Keith!” Coran’s eyes light in recognition, “little Pidge has been talking about you all day. Just moved here, didn’t you? How do you like our humble town?”
“It’s great,” Keith sounds sincere when he says it, “Pidge talks about me?”
“She’s quite taken with you,” Coran nods, and then turns back to the kids. His eyes land on a little girl who looks a lot like a toddler version of Matt. She’s got round glasses, short gold hair, and she appears to be tinkering with some kind of metal contraption, an expression of deep concentration on her face. She’s adorable.
“Pidge,” Coran calls, “someone’s here for you.”
“Finally,” comes Pidge’s grumbly little kid voice, and then she looks up. Her eyes land on Keith, and Lance swears her face glows. Then she’s grinning and stumbling to get up and running excitedly over to Keith. Lance turns to look at Keith, who’s wearing the warmest expression Lance has ever seen on a human being. He’s even smiling, which for some reason does things to Lance’s heart. Keith’s slightly bent, his arms open, and Pidge doesn’t even hesitate to jump into them. Keith’s grin is wide and infectious.
Lance is going to die from cuteness overload.
“Keith!” Pidge says happily, except she’s four, so her Keith sounds more like keef.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Keith chuckles, putting her down and taking her hand so she can walk on her own but still stay with him, “you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Pidge nods, and then turns to Coran, “bye, Mr. Coran!”
“See you tomorrow, Pidge,” Coran replies, before Keith and Lance turn around and start walking back down the hallway. Lance waves to Coran again before he goes. When he turns back around, Pidge is talking animatedly to Keith. Keith isn’t tuning it out, like some parents do, instead he’s listening intently and letting Pidge rant. Lance hangs behind and smiles at the scene. Eventually the kid tires herself out, and Keith looks back at Lance as Pidge holds Keith’s hand and toddles along. They reach the door, and Lance pushes it open for Keith and Pidge. They step outside into the warm air, and Lance blinks at the sun.
“Sorry,” Keith says suddenly, as they start walking.
“What?” Lance asks, confused, “why?”
“That I have to, you know, take care of Pidge while we work.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Lance shakes his head, “don’t even apologize, I totally get it. I have siblings at home to help take care of, too. You’re fine.”
“Okay,” Keith sighs, “thanks.”
“Sure,” Lance responds, and then remembers, “hey, I thought her name was Katie. Why’d you call her Pidge?”
“It’s a nickname,” Keith answers as Pidge turns around, hearing her name. Her eyes finally fall on Lance, and confusion fills her scrunched-up face.
“Who’s that?” she asks.
“This is Lance,” Keith looks down at Pidge, and then up at Lance, expression hesitant, “he’s my-”
“Friend,” Lance interrupts smoothly, “I’m Keith’s friend.”
Keith’s face is dusted pink, but he looks grateful. Lance smiles at him.
“Cool!” Pidge says, “hi, Lance!”
“Hey, kid,” Lance grins down at her, “nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Pidge nods, before turning to Keith and reaching out her arms. In one effortless move, Keith turns around on the sidewalk and crouches so that Pidge can climb onto his shoulders. She reaches into her pocket once she’s situated and plays with her piece of metal, which she rests in Keith’s hair. Keith loosely holds onto Pidge’s ankles.
“Awww,” Lance can’t keep it in anymore, “you guys are so cute.”
“She is,” Keith corrects, “I’m not.”
I don’t know about that, Lance thinks, and then wonders where the hell that thought came from. What has been happening to him since meeting Keith? Why is his face red all the time? Why is he looking at Keith more than the adorable child on his shoulders?
Lance shrugs it away, because he’s always been good at that.
Lance and Keith fall into a comfortable silence on the way to Keith’s house. Pidge is mostly silent, but she babbles every once in a while and Lance or Keith responds. Eventually they end up on a familiar stretch of road, and Lance remembers riding his bike around here when he was little. The houses here are big and nice, but they’re not intimidating. They feel homey, welcoming. Like Lance’s own home.
“So I lied,” Keith starts as they approach one of the houses, painted a warm brown with well-kept flowers and a porch with a swinging bench in the front yard, “we’re actually going into the Holt’s house.”
“Are we breaking in?”
“Nah, I have the keys,” Keith replies, fishing out said keys from his pocket, “the house I live in is hardly ever occupied except when we sleep. And even then at least half of them are sleeping over at the Holt’s.”
Lance notices two things: one, that Keith never refers to his house as his, always calling it the house he lives in. Two, Keith referred to the occupants of his house as them. He didn’t include himself in that sentence. Lance refrains from asking.
Keith opens the door and Lance is greeted with a comfy-looking living room. Keith immediately leads them to the sofa, where he deposits Pidge and she continues playing with her metal. Lance wonders if that’s a choking hazard, but Keith doesn’t seem to mind Pidge playing with it. And judging from the way Pidge’s eyes follow Keith wherever he goes, Lance is pretty sure he’d trust Keith with his own siblings.
Right behind the sofa is a counter separating the living room from the kitchen, and Keith moves to the kitchen presumably to get something to eat or drink. Lance rests on his knees on the sofa cushions and crosses his arms on the counter, propping his head up on them and watches Keith rummage around in the kitchen.
“So your family’s close with the Holts then?”
“They’re all close, yeah,” Keith nods, “so when I came I was pretty much forced to get along with the Holts. I like them, though, so it’s fine.”
“What do you mean, when you came?” Lance asks as Keith opens a cabinet door.
“Oh,” Keith pauses, realizing he’s revealed too much, “um. The house next door is my foster family. I was just moved to a new house, and I ended up here.”
Now it makes sense, Lance thinks. Blanks are filling in his head.
“Okay,” Lance says out loud, “would I know your foster family?”
Keith blinks, as if he’s surprised that Lance doesn’t care that he’s a foster kid. Which, of course he doesn’t, it’s not really his business, is it?
“Yeah,” Keith answers after a second, “the Shirogranes?”
“Hold on!” Lance almost topples off the couch, “Shiro’s your foster brother?”
Keith nods, “Why?”
“Dude,” Lance laughs, “I used to have the biggest crush on Shiro, oh my God.”
“Ew, really?” Keith wrinkles his nose, “I guess he’s attractive? But like, aesthetically. I can’t imagine ever fucking him, Jesus Christ.”
“Hey!” Lance screeches, covering Pidge’s ears, “there’s a child in the room!”
“She’s heard worse,” Keith waves a hand, “a lot worse, since I moved in.”
Lance has changed his mind. He does not trust Keith with his siblings.
“Come on,” Lance sighs, “let’s do this project.”
“Right,” Keith walks back around to the sofa with cups of water and a bag of chips. Keith reaches over to pull the coffee table towards them, as Lance grabs his backpack and tries to find their papers. Keith sets Pidge and her metal on his lap, and she squirms to get comfortable before abandoning her metal to play with Keith’s fingers. Which is so cute.
“Non-dominant hand, Pidge,” Keith mutters, before switching which hand Pidge is playing with. She doesn’t make noise like most kids, Lance notes. She did her talking earlier, and now she’s content to just quietly observe. She’s so different from the boisterous and slightly annoying behavior of Lance’s siblings, nieces, and nephews.
“Aha!” Lance resurfaces from the mess that is his backpack with the project papers, “I am victorious, Keith! I found them!”
“Good for you,” Keith looks unimpressed and impressively inexpressive, considering the literal child making cute little noises and playing with his hand.
“Thanks for the support,” Lance rolls his eyes, before looking over the questions on the paper, “none of this is relevant to the project until...here, number ten. Okay, so the project is about family. So what we have to do is compare our families by like, traditions and number of siblings and what our parents are like and stuff. Apparently this is some kind of analysis practice for Romeo and Juliet?”
“I hate that play,” Keith interjects, “also, I don’t have a family.”
“Why did you say those in the same tone of voice?”
“Accident,” Keith breezes on, “but, um, I really don’t. Have a family. I’m in foster care, remember?”
“Well, can’t you just use your foster family?” Lance asks, “that’s probably all the question means.”
“I-” Keith looks a little broken, now that the assignment’s instructions have really caught on to him, “I don’t know them well enough to answer any of these questions. Shiro, maybe, but not Shiro’s parents. I know it’s selfish, but I honestly don’t really consider them my family, yet. I just don’t know them.”
“That’s not selfish,” Lance says, “you just need time. The Shiroganes are all super nice. You’ll love them in time. But for this assignment, do you just want to use them and ask your foster parents for the answers?”
“Uh, I guess,” Keith shrugs, “feels awkward doing an assignment about family when I don’t even know who mine is.”
Lance doesn’t know when Keith decided to open up to Lance, but he’s grateful for it. Even if it makes his heart break and he wants to give Keith a hug, he’s also glad. He likes Keith, and he likes having him as a friend. Lance wants to know more about him.
“I have a secret,” Pidge suddenly interjects, looking up from Keith’s hands.
“Yeah?” Keith’s face is faintly amused, “what’s your secret?”
“You have a family,” Pidge declares, “and I know who it is.”
“Who is it?” Lance prompts, knowing exactly what Pidge is going to say. He has a feeling Keith does, too, but he also has a feeling Keith isn’t going to believe subtext.
“It’s me!” Pidge announces proudly, “write about me ‘n Matt!”
“Oh,” Keith’s voice is quiet, understanding, “yeah, Pidge. You’re my family.”
“That’s..not a bad idea,” a smile makes his way onto Lance’s face, “Keith, use Matt and Shiro and Pidge as your family! You guys have been friends since you moved here, you’ve spent enough time together to know them pretty well!”
“Okay,” Keith blinks, “okay. Sure, yeah. So I guess, Shiro and Allura would be like my parents, and Pidge and Matt are like sibling stand-ins?”
“There you go,” Lance beams, “Keith Kogane, you have your very own family.”
“ We love you, Keith,” Pidge says, but she’s back to looking at Keith’s hands. The way she says it, so sure and full of affection but not even looking at Keith, makes Lance laugh quietly. How can Keith see the way Pidge looks at him, implicitly trusts him and loves him, and think he doesn’t have a family? Lance is entirely aware he just met this kid today, but he’s pretty sure he’s going to make sure Keith has a family forever.
“Family,” Keith repeats, and then turns to Lance. He’s grinning, a real, wide smile that has Lance flushing and smiling back as big as he can.
“Thanks, Lance,” Keith says.
“What for?”
“For not judging me at first,” Keith shrugs, “when I was quiet and rude.”
“You were never rude,” Lance frowns, “just a little shy. But underneath that, you’re pretty cool, man. And unexpectedly good with kids.”
“Sure,” Keith laughs, “but thanks. It means more than you’d think that you never judged me. You just-became my friend. And you didn’t even know about me the way Shiro and the Holts do. Nobody’s ever become my friend without circumstances making them.”
“Well,” Lance tries to ignore his heart breaking in his chest, “you’re welcome. And I’m your friend, man, no matter what. We should hang out even after this project is done. Also, whenever you want to tell me about-whatever your past is-I’m here for you.”
“Okay,” Keith smiles again, but this time it’s different. Softer, Lance thinks. Something special, something Lance feels privileged to see. This feels like a side to Keith that not a lot of people get to witness. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Lance grins, and then they turn to their assignment with new vigor. Pidge plays with Keith’s hand and interrupts their work with random questions and babbling, while Keith and Lance get distracted themselves by talking or procrastinating or just playing with Pidge, because by God is she cute. Being friends with Keith is easy, Lance thinks then. It feels like the beginning of something great.
Which it is, Lance will find out later.
But it’s also the beginning of something more; something that hurts Lance just as much as he will come to love it in the end.