Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Music was the only thing that saved Keith from falling into the void. 

He knew he had always been a complicated child: his parents' death brought up emotions that he shouldn't have felt at that young age. Anger and frustration against a life that had decided to be unfair from the beginning grew up everyday, in a relentless way, followed by guilt. Keith couldn't not think that they had died because of him. It didn't matter how much his relatives – which then refused to host him with pathetic excuses – tried to convince him that it wasn't like that. It was him that prayed them to pick him up after the first day of school. It was him that made them promise to be there, in front of the main door. 

Obviously, they never arrived. 

They had died instantly, because of the violent clash against the other car.

They didn't even have the time to think about Keith for the last time.

He waited so much that, when his grandma arrived crying, she found him asleep on the steps, with the backpack hanging from his shoulder. One of his biggest regrets was that he didn't cry when the situation was explained. Not even a tear. 

Mom's smile.
“It'll be great. You'll make a lot of friends.”
Dad's typical flick on his nose.
“Let's go to the park after school, okay?”

He desperately held on to these last images, praying to not forget their faces and their voices, praying to be forgiven for his insolence against them. If they had known, they probably would have been disappointed… how could he blame them?
Through the years, although he didn't do nothing to contain it, Keith learned that his anger wasn't aimed to life, but to himself and his infinite regrets: he should have hugged them, instead of getting off the car barely saying hello, reaching the school's entrance in a hurry.
He should have cried for their death. He should have held his grandma's hand during the funeral. He should have found the courage to look at the graves for the last time, before they were buried. 

“He's just a child...”
His aunt was whispering, during the priest's funeral service, so Keith couldn't hear, but her words arrived loud and clear. 

That's not an excuse for my behavior.

Although this thought perfectly summarized his mental state, he failed to raise his gaze up. 

He failed to say goodbye to them. 

He went to his grandma's house after the funeral. He didn't talk, thanked, apologized. If mom had been there, she would have scolded him until he would have said something. 
His family split completely: uncles and aunts disappeared, cousins didn't keep in touch, no sign of distant relatives. 

Keith was soon erased from the family tree.

After months and months of tribunals and social workers, they proclaimed his grandma was too old to adopt him; his aunts, from both of his family branches, declared themselves to be unstable and deeply shaken by the sudden death of their relatives, so they were unable to take care of a child. Keith was thrown like a ball from side to side, incapable to have a say. But like they said, “he was just a child”. This was one of his regrets that, unfortunately, he couldn't repair in any way. He was only waiting the day he was going to be old enough to decide for himself. 

They sent him to an Institute, “temporarily” - tribunal said – on hold to be entrusted. Keith didn't even try to appear willing towards those who took care of him, neither towards potential families who were interested on his adoption. Actually, sometimes he showed his worst in order to be left alone. 

He didn't want a surrogate. He wanted his real parents.

The big rage that made his blood boil was quickly transformed in violence against furniture, toys, and sometimes against other children. Sure, he wasn't too strong and he only threw punches that were never successful, but his teachers still had to lift and lock him in another room until he was calm. During these moments he unloaded his anger against the door, giving the impression that he wanted to exit for beat up the others. Reality was that he saw himself in front of him: that surrounding was driving him crazy, and he just wanted to leave. He felt like a slave  of his own mind, and the only way to exorcise this fury was to scream and punch. If his parents had seen him, they would have reprimanded him for hours. 

But they weren't there.


Shirogane family arrived. Wife and husband, although they already had a son, – older than Keith – had promised to adopt a kid from an institute. Obviously, when the three of them were taken to observe all the children while they were playing, Keith was set aside. Teachers preferred to not introduce him unless the family requested. It had never happened since that day. 

“What's up with that kid?” Mrs. Shirogane asked, pointing at him while he was playing with two little lion robots, one black and one red, in the room's corner. 

Teachers hesitated before responding. 

“That's Keith,” one of them started to explain, then she lowered her voice, “He's… particular.”

Like those words lighted up something inside him, Shirogane's child run towards Keith to crouch down and watch him play. Keith got scared, not so happy about the sudden approach. The two teachers held their breath, ready to carry away Keith before he could rip off the kid's hair. 

“Particular?” Mr. Shirogane observed the scene with a relaxed smile. His son was asking questions to Keith about the lions, then he listed all the toys he owned. Slowly, the child grew more and more interest to the explanation, until he gave him one of the lions, the black one, to play together. One of the teachers gasped seeing Keith smiling amused. 

“They've already socialized” Mrs. Shirogane commented. “May we have an interview with him?” 

Thanks to the vicinity of their son, Takashi, Keith remained calm the whole time, even though he didn't have a lot to tell about himself to make a good impression: the teachers made him memorize a speech that didn't mention his uncontrollable anger. 

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane. My name is Keith Kogane and I'm eight years old. I'm in this institute since two. I lost my parents when I was younger, so I hope you can adopt me.” it was the umpteenth time he repeated that ranting, he was used to say it without emotions. 

Mr. Shirogane stopped him, perplexed. “Keith, tell us about yourself. What do you like? Do you have passions?”

Keith had never thought about that. His educators had never prepared him, so he gasped for breath, panicking. It was the first time he felt afraid thinking about not being adopted. He wanted to give his best to convince them. 

“I...” he murmured after looking towards Takashi. Maybe it was his kind eyes, his welcoming smile, the facility he talked to him with, but something in him tranquilized Keith. When at the beginning he sat beside him, Keith had the instinct to run away; the kid talked, talked and talked, naming toys that he didn't even know. Yet that exuberance caught his interest, convincing him to move closer and pay attention. Takashi emanated so much vivacity that he felt influenced by it, enough to give him one of his precious lions. He scolded himself for lowering the guard, but… that kid was different. It seemed like he really cared to make Keith comfortable.
It was like they'd known each other since forever. 

“I like animals. And robots. And toys. And red and chocolate.” every time he said one thing, another came in his mind. The dyke was destroyed and the river was flowing again, leaving his thoughts to get out without being afraid of not being adopted. Somehow he knew he could trust that family. It was the right one, finally. He was willing to wait to officially become their son, although he knew how long the adoption process was.  

He waited patiently, and after one year of temporary custody he left the Institute. 

His new parents were affectionate, helpful; the one who he could call brother, Shiro, – a nickname invented together – was probably the best brother he could ever wished for. Despite this, habits don't change so easily, and Keith didn't miraculously become an angel. Rage still obfuscated his mind, and he struggled to control himself. He had to thank everyone's enormous patience, especially when he started school: the days when he didn't return with disciplinary notes, didn't receive some punishment or teachers didn't call to complain, were rare and precious.  

Shiro was five years older than Keith, and since he was seven he played the piano. In fact, Shirogane's house was rarely silent: Takashi exercised everyday, and Keith carefully listened to him, seated on the couch behind him. He had a fluid style, confident, precise but not rigid. He transmitted his emotions to the spectator through the sound of the keys. He was endowed with a natural talent, everyone said it since the beginning. 
When Keith was nervous, Shiro made him sit down and played something; the melody always calmed him, getting him to almost fall asleep. 

“Why don't you try yourself?” one day Shiro asked. 

Keith knew it was only a way to distract him from his undisciplined temperament, and he wouldn't stoop to those methods. At the same time, he trusted his brother. It was for their family's sake, for his own sake. Therefore, even though it bothered him, he decided to try.
The first lesson was so tragic that Keith, out of anger, almost broke his foot by kicking hard the instrument. Fortunately Shiro carried him away just in time to calm him down. The reason he became annoyed so easily was the little patience he had with himself. He always demanded perfection, and to see one thing that seemed so simple require tremendous effort from him, made him go berserk. Shiro appeared serene when he played, immersed in his own world. Keith envied him. 

In spite of the first approach not exactly positive, his brother convinced him to try another time. From that moment Keith decided he would be able to achieve the perfection he craved so desperately. The training started to give results, and after only a year he reached an amazing level. He played all day, at all times – often at unacceptable hours during the night, but Shiro brought him in his bed back to sleep. 

And he had to admit (not to Shiro, or he would have praised himself until death) that the piano really achieved to distract him from his rebel behavior: he got less and less angry, he paid more attention, teachers didn't kick him out of class anymore. Finally the hope of having something to live for had started to climb up again in his chest. Because of this, music was essential.

Without it, Keith felt he didn't have a purpose. 


When they found an apartment in which they could live together, Keith was in grade ten. Shiro started teaching at the Altea Music Academy while he was hired part time at a library. He was convinced – constricted – to enroll at the academy so Shiro could continue to follow his progresses, but unfortunately the first year Keith was assigned to another teacher. This, however, didn't destabilized him: the teaching method was similar to his brother's, and he didn't have trouble to improve further. He was still relieved knowing that at the second year they would return to the basics, because being able to always count on Shiro gave him a sense of safety during the moments where he risked losing himself, especially when he was forced to deal with problems that he would have preferred to avoid. He perfectly remembered the day in which even Shiro seemed on the verge of tears. 

The first crisis, probably, was the worst. 

The changing in Keith's behavior happened gradually, but that crisis was the final breakthrough. Anyone, including parents, professors and classmates, admitted to have noticed that the boy was becoming more calm and silent. His eyes were cold, detached.  They still had those purple shades that characterized him, but every day they seemed more and more lifeless. 

He rarely smiled. He was awkward when someone tried to chat with him. He had never been good in socializing, but at least before he talked with a little more confidence. Now he didn't even look at the interlocutor's eyes, and he talked only if consulted. 

On one side his behavior was certainly better – anger appeared like a distant memory -, but on the other side it wasn't the same Keith. Not even him could explain, but he felt disconnected from the world. He only heard the piano's sound that echoed in his head; during school lessons he drummed with his fingers as he was exercising, and when there was too much silence to not being noticed he drew keys on his notebook for reviewing. He didn't have a reason to connect with others anymore, if not with Shiro and sometimes with his parents. Why would he do that? It was only a distraction from the only reason he continued to go on for. He absolutely couldn't risk to fall again in the void that tormented him for all those years, before starting to play the piano.

The crisis, in any case, was the last drop.

That day from two years before wasn't a far memory: he could feel the same chills on the skin, when he thought of it.
Shiro had returned to be his teacher after one year. Lessons continued without interruptions – although sometimes Shiro got worried about the obsessive behavior of his brother towards the piano – for three months circa. In the morning Shiro would accompany Keith with his car; the latter would wait while he was teaching to other students, until his turn would arrive. He had managed, after praying Shiro many times, to obtain one of the less used rooms with a piano. He would enter there right after arriving to save time, and the two would meet at that place. 

Shiro was saying bye to one of his students and was going to meet Keith. Usually, as a warming up, Keith would play some classical music. He was precise, always on time, he never messed up a key. His style was so perfect that could be recognized from anyone that had listened to him at least one time.  

Shiro wouldn't have defined him inflexible, but he was weak in improvising. He complied to the pentagram like it was his personal Bible, and when he had nothing to follow, he tended to play something that always reminded a song learned recently. At critical level, Keith lacked of originality. However, when Shiro was close to the classroom, he only heard keys played almost randomly, unable to form a familiar melody. He entered the room and Keith froze. 

“I can't hear it.” he murmured.

“Keith?”

He didn't receive an answer, and to recall his attention he rested a hand on his shoulder. Keith suddenly turned, tears streaming down his pale face. He was shaken by continuous hiccups. 

“I can't hear the sound, Shiro.”

He brought his hands through his hair, holding it so violently that he could rip it if he pulled. He started to shake his head while his cry became more and more desperate, and Shiro was incredulous.  His brother was out of his mind, and he couldn't say anything, powerless.

“Shiro!” Keith was screaming, and to avoid attracting students and teachers, Shiro bent over to hold him in a comforting hug, suddenly awakened by that terrifying shriek. Keith was trembling, crying, grasping to his brother's shirt like it was the only way to not fall from the stool. “Keith, everything's fine, calm down, it's okay, I'm here.” he muttered, trying to remain serene, but his voice was strangled because of the knot in his throat. His eyes burned, tears fought to get out, but he couldn't cry in front of his little brother.

That would have destroyed him.

Keith calmed after an hour, but he didn't mention to loosen the grip from Shiro's shirt, which was soaking wet. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, placing his hands on his shoulders to look at him. He had red eyes and nose, the dry tears made his skin shiny, which was paler than usual. Only by seeing him in that state, Shiro felt sick. 

“I was exercising, and suddenly I s-started to hear nothing. It was like...”
His voice blocked and another hiccup came out. He brought a hand on his neck and tried to swallow the tears.

“It was like I was on the bottom of the ocean. Water was suffocating me, and the waves' noise was terrifying, it echoed in my ears… I felt lost. I was afraid to drown even though I knew I wasn't really in the sea.” he managed to say all at once. 

Before continuing, he swallowed with difficulty. His throat tingled, his voice was raspy. “Shiro… it can't happen. If… if I can't play the piano anymore, what will become of me? What would be the point to continue to live?” 

Shiro stared at him, unable to find the words. He wanted to look away before Keith raised his eyes, hoping to see a comforting smile on his older brother's face, but he didn't make it in time. He was frozen, unprepared for that situation. He became aware of his expression only when Keith looked at him, worried. 

He knew he had watery eyes: he sensed the itch. 
He also knew he had frown eyebrows, and his mouth was just a thin line that cut his chin.

“Shiro?” Keith whispered, uncertain. 

“It's okay.” He tried to recover immediately, pretending to not be on the verge of tears. “You're just tired, the continuous training is killing you. I'm taking you home, you must rest right away, understand?” 

He expected a complaint, instead Keith nodded.

The week that followed was blurred in Keith's memory, but Shiro remembered the nights passed at his side while he puked after sleeping all day.

He found the courage to try to play only after that hellish week, and fortunately everything was back to normal. They both breathed a sigh of relief, and training started again like it had never been interrupted. 

Unluckily though, a year later another crisis arrived. Less strong than the first, but still traumatizing. This wasn't totally unmotivated: Keith was heartbroken, and he had to face not only that, but also the scary possibility of having to abandon his passion for the piano. Then again, as it arrived, the crisis disappeared, leaving him alone.  

Currently he didn't have others, but he knew he couldn't relax. Keith and Shiro hadn't been to the beach since the summer of two years before, and Shiro didn't have the courage to ask him, or going with someone else. He didn't want him to feel abandoned, especially after his breakup with the person who hanged out with for some months. 

Keith desperately chased the sound of the piano, praying it would never let him fall into the void again.  He didn't know what could happen a third time. He hoped he wouldn't have to find out. 



“Registrations will finish soon, you know?” 

Keith snorted, crossing arms on his chest. “Shiro, I already said I don't care about competitions. Stop persisting.” 
Shiro looked again at the announcement attached to the classroom's wall, then he sighed defeated. He knew how stubborn Keith was, convincing him was impossible if he wasn't interested. He had always been like that. 

“I was only asking...” he murmured, trying to appear casual.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Can we go?”

They had just finished their lesson together, as usual. They took their bags and left the class, but Shiro stopped just in time in front of Hunk, who seemed exhausted, judging by his shortness of breath. They said hello, unsure. 

“Is everything okay, Hunk?” Shiro asked.

Their friend continued to wheeze for another couple of seconds, until he threw himself on a chair behind. Wiping off the sweat on his forehead, he weakly nodded. “I was late and I had to run. You know how Coran is...”

Keith smiled. “He hates delays.” 

At that moment, like he was called, Coran came out from the classroom at their right, peering the corridor. His orange moustache seemed like it was moving with impatience. When he saw them, he lighted up and got close with the guitar in his hand.

“Hunk, my boy! Do you mind if we start in a few minutes? I would like to talk to Takashi about something.”
Hearing those words, the kid opened his mouth so much that Keith thought his jaw could break. “I didn't expect this...” he muttered while Hunk slipped off from the chair, speechless. He had his eyes wide open and was shaking his head.

Running wasn't obviously his favorite activity. Hunk was their friend since he started to attend Altea Music Academy one year before. He played the guitar and worked part time as a chef assistant in a local restaurant to pay his apartment's rent, but cooking was really one of his passions, and he loved doing it. Thanks to his friendly approach, Keith became fond of him, although he wasn't used to bond so easily with new people.

“Allura told me about your idea, and I'm glad to give my agreement! How did the others react?” Coran asked. 

Shiro grinned. “They all accepted.”

“Perfect, magnificent! Where could we do this?” 

“I didn't think about it yet, honestly...”

Hunk and Keith, curious, turned towards them. “What are you talking about?”

The moment Shiro looked away with a not-so-genuine smile, Keith understood he was hiding something. And he wasn't going to like that something. He frowned his eyebrows and stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but Coran intervened. 

“Takashi would like to publicize the school with a concert in a bar. We would choose some students that could perform and show their abilities” he proudly explicated.

Keith stared so hard his brother that he could have pierced his skull with his own eyes. If they had been alone, he probably would have made a scene, but there were Coran and Hunk. The latter liked the news so much that he instantly stood up from the chair.

“I have an idea for the place!” he exclaimed. 

Shiro finally turned his gaze, surprised, avoiding Keith's face on purpose. Coran applauded with enthusiasm. “Hit me!”

“Sometimes I perform in this bar where one of my friends works, the Paladin's. It's one of the most popular pubs frequented by teenagers. It would be perfect for attract young people to join, wouldn't it?” 

Shiro, Coran and Keith looked at him, incredulous. It really was an excellent idea: it wasn't because it came from Hunk –  he was a clever boy – but the fact that he already found the solution, like he was waiting the best occasion to propose it. Coran howled before uttering: “My favorite student! Brilliant!”. Hunk laughed, and his tanned cheeks became a little pink.

Shiro nodded vigorously. “So it's decided. I'm going to contact the Paladin's owner to know what he thinks. If everything goes fine, we should be able to organize for this weekend.”

Soft steps preceded a familiar voice. “Hey, what did I miss?”

Keith turned, and he had to lower his gaze at his friend's height. Pidge joined them and waved with the hand. Pidge – Katie Holt was her real name – was another student of the academy. She had started to attend it with Hunk, because they were childhood friends. Anyone was stunned finding out that little fellow played the electric guitar. Even though she was short and slim, she was really strong-minded and no one could command her. She had a sharp tongue. Even Coran was afraid to contradict her, sometimes. 

Keith noticed the pen stuck behind her ear, between her short and unkempt hair. He indicated it, raising an eyebrow.

“You signed up for the competition?”

Pidge fixed her glasses, pushing them with a finger.

“Yeah. You haven't?”

Shiro messed her already ruffled hair. “If you want to convince him, you should give up already. He's adamant” he warned, gaining a stink eye from Keith.

Pidge snorted. “As always.”

Coran brought them back to the argument, clearing his throat. “Katie, we would like to organize a concert at the Paladin's, to advertise the Altea Music Academy. What do you think?”

The girl put a hand on her hip, smiling to Hunk. “I bet you proposed it.”

“Well, it's a cool place!”

Pidge nodded. “Yes, I'm in.”

Receiving a confirm also from her, Shiro finally found the courage to look at Keith. He passed a hand through his hair, a little unsure.

“They all agree...” he began to say. 

“I know.”

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder. “It'll be fun! We'll be all together playing, also drinks will be free. Our friend is the bartender.” he finished with a wink.

Keith wasn't a fan of alcohol, but he couldn't resist to Hunk's “puppy eyes” that he used to obtain something. He hesitated another couple of seconds, before letting out a sigh with his eyes closed. That was enough to make everyone celebrate: knowing Keith, they couldn't pretend an actual confirm out loud.

“It's settled!” Coran announced, then he turned towards Hunk. “So, my boy, shall we start?”

The kid retrieved the big custody with his guitar inside, before saying hello and entering the classroom with his teacher.

Pidge sat down where he had thrown himself before, and took her phone. “I have to wait him for an hour” she complained. 

“When are you going to get your license?” Keith ruled. 

“When I'll be able to reach the pedals!”

Keith and Shiro giggled.

“Then you'll have to wait Hunk forever.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “You're hilarious, Keith.”

The other maliciously smiled, then he turned, willing to go away with Shiro. He stopped hearing Pidge's voice.

“Ah, listen...”

He went back. “Yes?”

“I'm glad you accepted to participate to this concert. Hunk tormented me for like a year, he absolutely wanted to make you meet to hang out together as a group of friends, but he never had an occasion.”

Pidge rarely showed her affection, but she really loved the people around her. So when she was sincere about her thoughts, it was always unexpected and she wouldn't have repeated not even under torture. It wasn't casual that she had waited Hunk to leave. Keith understood her from this point of view: he knew he had the best brother in the world, but he hardly would have admitted it out loud. 

He found himself smiling. “No problem.”

He wasn't totally convinced by the concert, to be honest. He had always refused competitions and performances because showing his talent wasn't important; he played the piano for his personal passion, not to cross over charts. 

However, the hope in everyone's eyes had pushed him to accept. It was the same hope that Shiro had when, years and years ago, he had proposed him to play the piano. Seeing the results, he had confided in his instinct. 

Something said to him it was worth a try.

Chapter Text

Whoever had met him could declare for sure that wherever he went, Lance brought joy and fun.

He'd always been a lively child: his mom reminded him as the most cheerful of her children. Sure, she also defined him as the most chaotic, but when she said it her smile was so sweet that Lance was sure she stated it with nostalgia. Since he had gone to live with Hunk and Pidge, his house had become more silent. His siblings always called him, asking to receive a visit sometimes, and occasionally they would take the bus to spend the weekend with him and his friends.

His parents had prayed him to not go too far away from them: since childhood he was used to their attentions, and he knew they wouldn't be able to handle the distance. Someone pointed at him as spoiled – he admitted to be himself - but that wasn't something particularly strange in his home country.

Lance was from Cuba; he had spent childhood and part of adolescence there until, for work purposes, the McClains had to move to USA, in a city called Arus. Although it was a completely different environment from their, they easily integrated within the society – also because of their surname, that didn't seem Cuban: they had to thank their ancestors, immigrated from America.

Family was essential, he couldn't live without it.

Despite this he also knew he needed to distance himself from them and change the air. As soon as he had turned eighteen, after graduation, he had decided to rent an apartment with his best friends, in Altea, a city close to Arus, which had a college. It wasn't totally unfamiliar to them: being little, Arus only had private schools, so less well-off teenagers had to attend a public one in close cities as commutes. They had chosen Altea not only because they already knew it, but also to make sure Pidge could continue to study in the same school without jumping through hoops to enroll in another one. Lance and Hunk, in any case, didn't have the intention to rent an apartment without her, so a solution like that was necessary in order to avoid a forced separation.

There was something unique and indestructible in their bond: they had known each other for the longest time, and they couldn't even imagine to go on separate ways. Each one of them had a precise role in their trio. They complemented each other.

He could have never thanked the fate enough for letting them meet.

Lance was the typical playboy, the happy guy with a great comic timing; he was him that always put into trouble the other two, but he always obtained their forgiveness and fixed everything.

Even though he seemed superficial, a little careless and only interested in the outward appearance, Lance had a heart of gold. He immensely cared about close people, and he would have done anything for them. Hard to believe, but he was the most insecure of the three; he constantly needed attentions and assurances in order to be confident, and he scarcely trusted in his own abilities. He preferred to not show that side of himself, concealing it behind puns and a big ego, but sometimes he couldn't pretend anymore. No one – besides his family, Pidge and Hunk – had access to his weakness.

Lance wanted to be the sun in people's life: a sun that never set, and that didn't threat to shut down.

This desire, unfortunately, wasn't entirely feasible.

“Welcome back, sweethearts!”

“Wow Lance, it's a new record. We're not even inside the house yet and you've already been able to make me roll my eyes.”

Hunk giggled at Pidge's exasperated affirmation, then he high-fived Lance, who was waiting them lying on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn on his stomach.

Hunk was the gentle giant. A big boy like him, at first, would induce fear in people. Prejudices would be abandoned after knowing him: Hunk was sweet, willing, funny, the best friend Lance could ever asked for. He always was on his side, ready to comfort him during hard moments, without hesitation. If Lance was wrong, Hunk was the first to scold him, but also the first to help him to “get his ducks in a row”.

When he got angry he was terrifying, but it happened in rare instances – and usually because of Lance.

He had an amazing talent in cooking. It was his passion since childhood, and he wanted to become a chef. For now he cooked for Pidge and Lance, and recently he found a part-time job as a chef assistant in a restaurant near the music school he attended – guitar was one of his another hobbies.

Pidge huffed putting her guitar in a corner, but it was evident she was trying to hide an amused smile.

Lance sat to leave space for the other two, who got there shortly after. He checked his phone absent-mindedly, then he laid it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. As always, the girl who gave him her number hadn't replied to his message. He was almost tired of trying, but this time she had really seemed interested.

“There are news!” Hunk declared, euphoric.

Lance turned, curios. “About what?”

They smiled, and Hunk started to explain. “Altea Music Academy's teachers wanted to publicize the school with a concert in a bar, but they didn't have ideas for the place...”

At those words, Lance lit up. It wasn't difficult to end the sentence in place of his friend. “You proposed the Paladin's?!”

Pidge nodded, looking happy in turn.

“Takashi has called Greg and they have agreed for this Saturday. Hunk and I will perform as well.”

Greg was the owner of the Paladin's. He was older than them, but he was the typical adult affected by Peter Pan syndrome. Sometimes he would try to integrate amongst the teenagers so much that he made his acquaintances uncomfortable. His wife especially.

Lance flaunted a bright smile. It wasn't often he could see his friends playing at professional level, in front of other people. He felt like a proud father.

Hunk applauded, getting him back to reality.

News weren't over.

“You're finally going to meet our friends!”

Since Hunk had joined the school and met teachers and other students, he had repeatedly named some people that he wanted to present to Lance. Pidge talked good about them too, and she assured him that if he had met them he would surely be friend with.

“You mean...” Lance scratched his chin, recalling one of the million times where Hunk talked about these friends. “Takashi, Coran, Allura, and… Keith?”

His friend nodded vigorously.

Takashi and Coran, from what he could remember, were full-time teachers, respectively of piano and guitar. Allura was a famous violinist who taught between performances. Keith was a piano student, and apparently he was Takashi's brother. They could have met before, if it were up Hunk, Pidge and Lance, but the other three were always busy with their job and musical career. Keith only was a “lone wolf” who didn't go out often, so it would have been difficult to convince him to go out with them without the other ones. Lance wasn't particularly excited at the idea of meeting this last dude, but Hunk described him as “super nice” after he opened up a little...

Hunk had the bad habit to exaggerate his descriptions.

“Now that school is over and summer holidays are starting, maybe they'll have more time too. We could organize something all together, once in a while.” Pidge proposed to Hunk.

The big guy was over the moon. “That would be great!”

Pidge giggled. Seeing him so happy could warm anyone's heart, even hers.

“The little gremlin”, as they loved calling her. Katie was three years younger than them, but she often appeared smarter and more mature than both of them combined. At the start of their friendship, after various puns about the fact she resembled a pigeon – no one could understand where they'd seen that analogy – they had decided to give her the nickname “Pidge”, and she never got rid of it. It wasn't that bad, actually.

Katie was a tech wonder kid: there weren't computers, programs or servers that she couldn't master in record time. Lance was almost certain that kiddo used magic, because it seemed impossible that just through some buttons she could hacker anything.

No one dared to go against her: she would easily get upset – with Lance especially – and she had a sharp tongue.

Sometimes she was scary, because that little body contained so much energy (and anger) for you to wonder where she was hiding it. In despite of the very easy way she lost her temper listening to Lance while he complained about girls he flirted with without success, she was fond of him and, obviously, of Hunk (it wouldn't take a lot to get attached to the big boy, in fact). She would have taken up the cudgels for them. Even for Lance, who at least once a day almost got her overtaken by a neurotic crisis. She would have never admitted it, but without him in the apartment you couldn't feel the same lively atmosphere.

Pidge played the electric guitar at the Altea Music Academy. She exercised everyday at home, and sometimes Lance danced following her rhythm. Usually Hunk joined them with his guitar, and the three improvised a show.

Lance convinced himself to not start with prejudices, but trusting his friends. It would have been a good time.

It really had started like a good time.

The day before Greg had called to warn him about the concert, asking him if it would have been a problem to serve at the counter more than usual. Besides, they expected a lot of people including friends, relatives and onlookers. Altea Music Academy's Staff had distributed fliers throughout the city, so the voice had spread for sure among Altea's streets. They hoped in a boom of entries.

That evening Hunk and Pidge had left before Lance for the rehearsal before the concert. He took advantage of this to prepare calmly, with a relaxing tea, clay mask and a hot tub. He took care of his body, he always wanted to be in his best shape. Also, with all those clients, there might have been someone interesting to flirt with, maybe gaining a phone number – to which, this time, the owner would have answered.

He wore the work uniform – a white shirt, black trousers and shoes, name tag on his chest – and he left with his car headed to the Paladin's. It was a habit, but that evening the path seemed different, more exciting. Knowing what was waiting at the bar for him made him quiver. He had even turned up the volume of the music to dance, trying to focus on the street anyway.

He arrived and remained pleasantly surprised seeing the crowd in front of the entrance. It was normal for a Saturday, but he still noticed more people than usual. He parked in his reserved parking spot and hurried up to get to the local's back, put on his apron and start to work.

Greg saw him as soon as he got through the front door.

“Lance! They are storming us and I've just opened, it's incredible. Your friends are already here, if you want to greet them” he exclaimed, a little winded.

He was carrying a box full of beer bottles and it appeared his backside didn't like the idea that much, judging by the tremor. Lance nodded a little uncertain, but lastly he decided to greet Hunk and Pidge… and their friends. For some strange reasons a shiver ran through his back.

He'd never been so anxious to meet someone: maybe the fact that Hunk had talked for so long about them had intimidated him. He almost fell compelled to make a good impression.

He looked towards the room that he knew like the back of his hand, and at the corner he immediately saw the instruments of the students that had to perform. Violins, keyboards, acoustic and electric guitars, some microphones. It was all set, only thing missing were the musicians.

Lance felt excited, like he had to play himself.

“Barman, give me a drink!”

He turned, bitter and ready to come up with a retort, but as he saw Pidge in front of him he gave up the intention, smiling maliciously.

“I'm sorry, but I can't sell alcohol to minors under ten.”

Pidge huffed nudging him with her elbow while smirking. She searched Hunk by looking at the room, finding him sat down at the counter, and she waved towards them.

Lance deeply inhaled: next to Hunk there was who seemed to be the famous Takashi. He was almost sure, because he was the only one with a white tuft and a horizontal scar on his nose. He was also the only one that they had described, because of these bizarre connotations he owned.

Hunk approached them and gave a light fist to Lance's shoulder.

“How do you feel?” Lance asked.

Pidge shrugged, but replied with a smile. “Fine, I think. I don't feel nervous, and it's strange, but maybe I haven't realized the situation yet. We'll see in a few minutes.”

They laughed. Pidge under pressure was hilarious, she couldn't handle anxiety and always ended up rambling and talking excessively loud. The fact that she was still calm, indeed, was strange.

“All good. Actually, I can't wait!” Hunk declared putting his hands on his hips. He could handle anxiousness better than Pidge, because he always saw things with positivity. It was him that prevented the other two from panicking most of the time.

He was like a sedative.

Lance didn't even think about his words, he let them get out without realizing. “When are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Pidge directed a look at Hunk, as to ask for confirmation. He shrugged, as to say it made no difference to him. They were having a mental conversation, which worried Lance even more. Finally Hunk was unable to resist and proposed to introduce him right away.

Okay, it's time. Why the fuck are you nervous?!

You asked for this, you can't back out.

You're not meeting Beyoncé.

At the counter, seated on the stools, there were four people. A kid that looked like his own age, a girl with silvery hair, a man with an orange moustache and the boy with the white lock Hunk was talking to before. They were all drinking while chatting, until they noticed the three of them approaching. Takashi was the first to wave with a breathtaking smile and a nod.

He was handsome. Lance was aware he was staring, but he couldn't look away. A perfect body, proportioned, muscular, concealed in a tight black t-shirt; his face had sharp-cornered traits, soothed by his friendly expression. His low forehead was partly hidden by the white lock of hair that looked extremely soft. The scar on his nose was evident, tending to pink, but it made him even more fascinating, if possible. Takashi held his hand and he hesitated for a moment, recently returned to the real world. His hand-shake was mighty, which was unsurprising. Lance then remembered another feature which they told him about: Takashi had lost his right arm years before, and instead he had a prosthetic. He tried to smile with self-confidence, ignoring the cold metallic fingers.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Takashi, but you can call me Shiro. Hunk and Pidge have talked a lot about you” he said.

Lance instantly activated his seductive dialectic. “I hope they said nice things. If not, I'll change your minds. I'm a man of many surprises, you know?”

Shiro giggled, turning towards Hunk and Pidge.

“You were right, he's really funny.”

Not sure if it was a compliment, Lance showed off a flirty smile, his trademark par excellence. He prayed to not look like an idiot.

He moved on to the girl next to Shiro, and once again he felt speechless ahead of such beauty. Allura was gorgeous: her silvery hair, almost white, was coiffed in a perfect chignon, leaving exposed the purple earrings that she wore with extreme elegance. Her tanned and flawless skin was in stark contrast with the candor of her hair, but at the same time the two characteristics perfectly fitted together. Lance was totally smitten when her blue eyes met his with a kind gaze, followed by her smile.

The slim body was praised by the white embroidery top and the long floral skirt with a slit up the side, that showed part of the leg. Lance bowed, taking her hand to kiss it. Allura gasped, surprised.

“Was your dad a king?” he began to say, already hearing warnings behind him.

“Oh no, here we go again...” Pidge's voice was hopeless.

Allura shook her head. “Uh, no, why?”

Lance suddenly got back up. Finger guns pointed at her, a wink, unmistakable smile, and he continued. “He must have been to make a princess like you.”

Hunk and Pidge groaned with irritation in sync, throwing nudges and punches at his backside hoping to shut him up. Lance grinned, trying to parry the hits with his hands, even though they didn't hurt.

Allura burst out laughing, and Lance noticed a soft blush on her caramel-colored cheeks. Hit and sank! Takashi and the orange moustache man sniggered, while there was no reaction from “Mr-Super-Nice”, as he had just decided to call him. That kiddo looked like he had a stake up his-

“Nice to meet you, my young heir. You know, in my day, I was a lady killer too. They called me Coran the Gorgeous Man! No woman could resist my charm.” the mustached man stopped his thoughts before they might have become too vulgar.

They shook hands and Lance instantly felt affinity with him. The man was certainly funnier than the ghost he would have to talk with soon, if he had even bothered to introduce himself.

Coran was… eccentric. Although his advanced age – Lance would give him fifty years old circa – his orange hair shined of color and fullness. Under the hooked nose a mustache of the same color hid his upper lip, and gave him a “cool uncle” look, as Lance would define him. He wore an unusual blue and white suit, that made him look like a butler.

Noticing that Mr-Super-Nice made no mention of speaking up, his brother cleared his throat and gave him a light thrust as to urge him. “Lance, this is my brother Keith.”

Keith – what kind of a name is that?! - had kept his head low until that moment but, under Takashi's duress, he looked up towards the other guy. Lance was already starting to invent puns to mentally make fun of him, but whatever insult didn't even have the time to be born.

His mother had told that story many times, but her children were never too tired of listening to it. They asked her every time the word “love” would came up.

The story of how she and their father met and, then, fell in love. Lance would have wanted to erase his memory to feel the same emotions he had felt the first time he had listened to it.

“It was love at first sight.” mama would say, with dreamy eyes. “Your father was so handsome. When we looked at each other I understood that I wouldn't let him go easily.”

Papa would hold her in a sweet hug, then he would gave her a forehead kiss and continue. “Mama stole my heart from the first moment. That day I promised myself I was going to conquer her in any way.”

Their children would look at them, fascinated. Lance dreamed of having a love story beautiful as theirs, promising since the beginning. He had always hoped to find the person that would have been able to steal his heart just by looking in his eyes from the first moment.

He would have never imagined to find them that Saturday evening at the Paladin's.

He would have never imagined that person would have been…

Keith.

It had been a matter of seconds.

Blue had collided against a stunning purple so fast that Lance thought he had imagined it. But there it was, in front of him. Those purplish eyes, deep, cold, fearful.

His pale skin almost seemed like porcelain. Lance ran through it with his gaze, noticing some freckles on the nose. He moved his attention to the thick eyebrows somewhat furrowed and hidden by rebel locks of his raven hair, that ended above his shoulders – is that a mullet?

His body was slight but trained; he kept himself in shape. Lance could see the ghost of his abdominals through the black t-shirt he wore under a strange red and white biker jacket. His hands were covered by a pair of half fingers gloves. Lastly, Lance looked down and noticed a tight pair of jeans of the same color that enveloped his slim legs. How does he breathe?!

Lance's throat felt dry while he was mentally marking the traits that had just sentenced him to death. He would have never expected to feel attracted to… a stupid mullet.

There still was hope, though. He may have been unbelievably beautiful and able to make him go weak in the knees, but when it came to personality he left a lot to be desired, and to Lance the attitude was as important. That crush would have disappeared without troubles. The thunder had scrambled his sky, but it hadn't collapsed completely. Keith wasn't his person.

Lance figured out why he felt so agitated. If he had known they were all so hot, he would have prepared better.

“...ance?”

Shiro's voice brought him back to the bar, with his friends and the new acquaintances that were looking at him a bit worried. There was also Keith. But he wasn't important.

He cleared his throat and flaunted a smile, grabbing Keith's hand and then he shook it with a little too vigor. “Pleased to meet you, I'm Lance, but you can call me McWonderfulClain!”

Well played, “McWonderfulClain”. Pidge and Hunk will make fun of you for the next twenty years.

Keith addressed him a hesitant look. “… I'll stick with Lance.”

He energetically nodded and hurried to get away from that somber boy that looked so cute even when he was confused and he didn't understand his puns and fuck, Lance needed to distract himself.

“Well gentlemen, gentlewoman, Pidge-” she nudged him with her elbow “I know you're going to be sad, but work's calling me. It's been an honor to meet you, good luck with the concert! Catch you later, yeah?” he finished with a wink.

As soon as he was safe in the local's back, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. One more second close to Keith and he would have exploded. He knew he was the only one to feel the tension between them, but he couldn't stand his proximity any longer. His gaze was inevitably continuing to search those purple eyes, plumped lips, pitch-colored hair… he shook his head slapping himself on the cheek as to maintain the control of his thoughts.

“You can do it.” he muttered to himself.

At the same time, a voice echoed in the bar.

“Good evening everyone. Thank you for coming to Altea Music Academy's concert. My name is Takashi Shirogane and I teach piano. The show will start in a few minutes! Thanks again.”

Green light. Lance moved the curtain of the back to look at the counter, and noticed with alleviation that they were all headed to their instruments, leaving the stools. He got out and started to clean their empty glasses. He lingered for a moment when he took Keith's between his hands, but he decided to not give a matter and washed it with hostility. I also have to be his slave!

Yes, he perfectly knew he was the bartender.

Still, the idea of being obliged to serve Mr-I'll-Stick-With-Lance – another nickname he had invented through the night – irritated him to an absurd level.

While he mopped the counter's wood, he glanced towards the musicians, looking for Pidge and Hunk. He gave the thumbs up to them, and they smiled in response. Hunk was massaging their friend's shoulders to comfort her. Despite the anxiety, Pidge managed to do everything, and Lance couldn't doubt she would rock that night too.

Before he focused on a client, he allowed himself to look another time at the raven-haired boy who was rehearsing a melody on the keyboard in front of him. His expression was rapt, determined, fascinating.

Lance cleared his throat and removed Keith from his mind.

Actually, for the – almost – entire duration of the concert, he managed to not think about his crush. He concentrated on the music that was, he had to admit, impressive: the girl who sang had a clear voice, maybe a little insecure, but pleasant; Pidge's solos with the electric guitar put him in the mood of dancing, like they were at home. Hunk made the background music in the slower parts, that could seem insignificant, but he never missed a note and helped to create the right atmosphere, and to accentuate the singer's voice. The piano wasn't really present in the first song, but in the second it had an essential role, from the beginning to the end. The opening melody had preceded the girl's voice, which was nearly reduced to a whisper. The notes in sequence transformed in rapid chords when the singer raised her voice and quickened the rhythm of the words. It didn't matter how much the pace would change, Keith didn't hesitate a single moment.

He was great.

Lance realized he had been distracted while he was pouring vodka in a glass, and he managed to stop just before it could overflow. The client gave him a dirty look, and he apologized smiling.

It's just a crush, he repeated to himself.

The concert finished after two hours. Viewers applauded and whistled, someone – probably a friend of one of the musicians – even threw a bunch of flowers. The singer picked them up laughing. Lance smiled seeing his friends cheering with the others, high-fiving. They were sweaty and visibly tired, but satisfied. Even Keith had his face colored by a soft smile. He wiped off the sweat from his forehead, raising up the rebel locks with his hand. Lance held his breath. He couldn't help but follow the transparent drop that was coming down Keith's neck.

Keith turned up suddenly, called by Shiro. He said something that, judging by the smug expression of the little brother, it must have been a compliment. Keith giggled and for a moment Lance thought he had passed out. It was the most genuine smile he had ever seen. A smile that lighted up the room.

I'm just tired. And melodramatic, as always.

“Lance! Lance! How was it?!”

Hunk and Pidge were running towards the counter, waving their hands. They arrived and Lance pretended to think about it.

“I could have done better...” he began, but a giggle slipped out right away. “You were great. The best. At some point I was almost crying.” this time he smiled tenderly.

The two blushed, Hunk passed a hand on the back of his neck. “Don't overdo it...” he muttered, but his happiness for those words was clear. Lance didn't wait any longer and, leaning on the counter, he wrapped them with his arms, making them smash against each other.

“Group hug!” he exclaimed chuckling.

Pidge groaned and tried to free herself from his grip.

“Laaance! You always have to goof around!” she screamed pushing him away. It was obvious she was trying to hide a smile.

They all burst out laughing. Lance jealously kept these moments together, because during them he realized how good he felt with Pidge and Hunk. He forgot anything else, any concern, only by laughing with them. He knew he was lucky.

“Anyways, since we're alone… what do you think?” Hunk asked, indicating with his eyes behind himself. Lance immediately understood who he was talking about. He had hoped until the last second that question would never come, but it was impossible. Hunk had waited to know his opinion the whole night, probably.

He forced a smile on his lips. “Takashi: wow. What did he eat when he was a child? Bread and pheromones? Allura: double wow. That girl was a princess in another life, guaranteed. Coran: the typical crazy-but-funny uncle. I love him.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Let me stop you right there, lover boy. Shiro and Allura are 100% a couple.”

“They confirm?”

She hesitated. “… they'll do it.”

“Therefore I can still hope!”

Pidge didn't even try to respond, already tired of arguing about such irrelevant topics. Hunk giggled, then stopped to think.

“And Keith?”

Lance flinched. The question he was avoiding in any way. He looked everywhere except where his friends were, trying to appear casual and quite indifferent. He shrugged.

“Besides me and the other three, you're not really good at finding new friends.” he finally stated with a smirk.

Pidge snorted and laughed at him in a mocking tone. “You were literally devouring him with your eyes!”

Lance froze. He was sure his face had become completely red. He opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for a retort that could shut her up, but he failed. How could he reply, if what she had said was the truth?

“In any case, he's not super nice like you described him, Hunk.” he was able to say lastly, moving his attention towards his friend who instantly erased an amused grin from his face.

He raised both of his hands in defense. “Hey, I said he has to get used to new people. You two talked for, like, thirty seconds? Give him time. He's shy and reserved, he doesn't gain confidence with strangers that easily.”

“Especially if those strangers are loud and annoying like you.” Pidge concluded pointing her finger to his chest.

Lance pushed away her hand and stick his tongue out.

“I can give all the time you want, but no promises. For now, he just seemed a pretentious brat that thinks he's too perfect to talk with us common people.”

Those words tasted fake in his mouth, but rather than admit his attraction, especially to Pidge – she wouldn't let him live -, he preferred to see him in a negative way. It would help him to forget how beautiful he was, filing him as “the obnoxious friend of Pidge and Hunk.”

It's going to be a matter of days and then hasta la later, Keith.

Hunk was going to reply, probably to explain another time that he wasn't that bad after he opened up a little more, but he was interrupted. Shiro was approaching them with a big smile.

And, obviously, because Lance couldn't live in peace even for a second, at his right there was a Keith not really glad to be dragged by his arm.

“Guys, I'm sorry, do I bother you?” Shiro asked.

Lance smiled, flirtatious. “Never.”

The other boy laughed, while Keith rolled his eyes, a common action of Pidge. Turning towards his friend, in fact, he noticed the same action.

These two must have spent a lot of time together, recently.

“As you know, Keith isn't really that affable...”

“Shiro!” he exclaimed, punching him on the shoulder. He had a light blush on his cheeks, and was staring at the floor. Lance held back an affectionate smile.

“As I was saying… summer holidays have started, so, would you like to go out all together? It would be fantastic if Keith hanged out with people his age out of the academy… and always if you want, obviously, Allura, Coran and I could come with you sometimes.”

Keith sighed, exasperated by his brother, but he didn't try to contradict him. Maybe he didn't mind that much the idea of hanging out with them. Hunk, without even thinking, squeezed Keith in a hug.

“Of course we can! We were going to ask the same!” he yelled, enthusiastic.

Lance gasped in sync with Keith, fearing that the raven-haired boy could snap and rip off his friend's arm with his own teeth. Luckily Keith had to be more or less used to Hunk's endearment, so he just patted his back to reply to the hug. He was clearly uncomfortable.

Pidge nodded. “Keith, any broken bones?”

The guy passed a hand on his shoulder, as to stretch after being crushed in an almost lethal vice, and shook his head.

“I survived today too.” he answered smiling.

Lance winced. Keith… made a pun.

And it was… funny.

Shiro gloated. “Great! I already have an idea: next Friday there's a city festival, with music, food, shows… I thought it could be interesting. What do you think?”

Allura joined the group in that moment, and listened to Shiro's explanation in silence. Lance realized she hadn't played the violin. Maybe she came as a music teacher, and not like a musician.

“Sounds good for us!” Hunk responded for everyone.

Allura nodded. “I heard it's a cool festival. There are stands that sell pizza and fries to eat at the tables.”

Pidge lit up. “You had me at pizza!”

The gang laughed as one. Keith sheepishly smiled.

Although he hadn't seemed very likely to, at the end he hadn't opposed to officially organize something all together. Lance expected fireworks from him, screams against his brother, a theatrical exit… okay, maybe this wasn't really Keith-like – as much as he knew. However he was surprised to see him passively accepting.

And maybe a little heartened.

The evening had started well.

Then it had taken a turn not really pleasant when Keith had introduced himself; at the end, though, Lance couldn't complain too much. That Saturday night, except for Keith, had been nice.

Plus, he had found new friends. Except for Keith.

They all seemed funny and willing. Except for Keith.

And gosh, extraordinarily attractive.

(...Except for Keith.)

He tried to force that last part inside his brain, but it stubbornly refused to accept that as the truth.

Chapter Text

Shiro was enthusiastic. Altea Music Academy's chosen students had managed to put on a good show in record time, considering that they had had less than a week to prepare. They had found songs known by everyone, where every instrument could contribute. And to the rehearsals scheduled every day after the lessons, for Shiro's pride, Keith had actively participated too – as far as he could be “active”.

That Saturday night they had left before from home for the last rehearsal at the Paladin's which Greg, the owner, had kindly opened in advance for them.

“You ready?” Shiro asked, smiling at Keith.

He nodded.

The Paladin's really was, as Hunk said, a cool place: it wasn't extremely big or lavish, but it captured your eye with the big neon sign above the frontal door that read “Paladin's” with a fancy writing. They entered and immediately heard Hunk's guitar: he was strumming some notes to brush up. He looked totally focused and almost spacing out from the bar. Pidge was fidgeting with her hands while reading the pentagram for probably the hundredth time. She was so absorbed that she was silently moving her lips to read the keys. The singer, a girl named Ezor, was adjusting her microphone as she was singing to herself. There were three other students who were chatting, appearing more relaxed than their friends.

The principal room wasn't large, but there was another one probably addressed to dance only, like a little disco. It had, in fact, a silver checkerboard-patterned dance floor in the center, a disco ball attached to the ceiling and a deejay equipment with two speakers at the side. Keith felt out of place: he'd never been a “party time” guy, since he didn't know that many people to go to parties and discos with. Shiro used to go sometimes with his friends, but stopped after the first crisis of Keith, who felt extremely guilty. Because of him, Shiro had given up a lot of fun activities he'd always done before, just for his little brother's sake.

“You're here!” Hunk waved his hand at them, just noticing their arrival. They responded with a smile, not having the heart to point out they were there since, like, ten minutes. Keith set his keyboard next to Pidge, who was still reading, but she had interrupted to greet them. He watched his friend for a few minutes: Pidge didn't seem the type to get easily anxious in these circumstances. Despite of this, she always succeeded in everything. Keith admired her.

“So, Lance works there?” Shiro asked to Hunk, pointing at the counter. He was trying to distract him from the show, so he could relax and stop over-thinking for a bit.

Hunk, obviously, lit up. “Yeah! His drinks are awesome.”

He waited for a moment before continuing, lowering his voice. “You know, I really hope you'll all get along.” He muttered with a sheepish grin on his face. Keith was oblivious to this type of strong friendship, but it reminded him his connection with Shiro. Hunk and Lance must have been best friends since forever, so they were like brothers. A little smile fought to appear on his lips at the thought of those two so attached, and how they must have cared for each other.

How does it feel to have a friend so important to you?

Pidge smiled and put a hand on Hunk's shoulder as to comfort him. “Lance is super annoying and sometimes I want to kill him, but he's funny and caring. I'm sure you'll like him, if you resist to his bad puns and low skills of flirting with every single human he sees.”

Hunk nodded with excitement. “Yes, he's the funniest person I know! And the most dramatic, but don't let this scare you, when he complains it's hilarious.”

Shiro laughed. “Now I'm curios to meet him.”

Keith didn't say anything. Lance could have been the most outgoing person ever, but he knew he wasn't, so it was impossible to have a conversation with him without it being awkward. Keith was aware that that was his fault and with a little effort he may manage to gain more confidence, and also he didn't want to disappoint Hunk and Pidge, but… he felt incapable. He was afraid to fail, knowing it was something everyone could do without even thinking, while he struggled just to look someone in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

When he was a child, he could do that.

As his parents, his house, his previous life, that was another thing he had lost. His ability to communicate with people, to express his feelings. Needless to say, this loss was part of his never-ending list of regrets.

The Paladin's opened after one hour.

They were ready.

People started to arrive at the bar, sitting at the bar to drink something – since Lance wasn't there yet, Greg served at the counter. The group of friends, while waiting to perform, decided to try the “famous drinks” of the Paladin's, known as some of the best ones in the city. It turned out they were awesome: even though Keith didn't particularly like alcohol, his drink was finished within some minutes.

Pidge excused herself to go to the bathroom, and on the way back she encountered Lance, just arrived there. She gestured toward Hunk, who was talking to Takashi.

“Oh, Pidge is calling me! Sorry, I'll be back.” He said.

Judging by the apron he wore, that must have been Lance. Keith was too far away – he didn't wear glasses even though he needed them - to actually see his facial features, but he seemed like a cute guy: slim but fit – his shoulders were broad and muscular -, tall and tanned.

Are you checking him out? What are you, twelve?

Suddenly feeling embarrassed by his strange thoughts, he lowered his head looking down to the floor. He hoped that the blush on his cheeks wasn't showing too much. When he felt Shiro's tight brushing against his, Keith figured out he was turning his stool to greet Lance, who was approaching them. Instead, he couldn't figure out why he was so nervous to meet him. Well, he knew, but wouldn't admit he was drooling on Lance's butt while the guy was talking with Pidge and Hunk.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Takashi, but you can call me Shiro. Hunk and Pidge have talked a lot about you” said Shiro with a kind smile. As always, his brother had to show his impeccable manners with everyone, so it was even more difficult for Keith to appear confident – or at least capable of being alive.

He was only listening to Lance's voice, not daring to raise his head to look at him. It was warm, lively and – as Pidge once said – a little too loud, but in a good way, if that made sense. It was like his presence had put everyone in a better mood: Shiro was laughing his ass off because of Lance's bad flirting – Pidge and Hunk definitely hadn't exaggerated when they talked about that -, Allura was blushing and chuckling since Lance had kissed her hand and called her a princess, and Coran was recalling his best days as “The Gorgeous Man”, although Keith doubted this was completely real, but always listened to his stories because that made Coran happy.

With his head over heels, Keith didn't realize it was his turn to talk to Lance, until he heard a strange silence from the group. He was going to look up, but Shiro was faster: a light thrust pushed him forward, forcing him to raise his head in order to see where he was going. Needless to say, Lance was in front of him.

“Lance, this is my brother Keith.”

Okay, you can do it.

It turned out he couldn't.

Keith hadn't been to the beach since two years, but exactly remembered how the water felt. He hated its noise in his ears after the crisis, but loved the soothing feel on his skin while swimming. It was warm, relaxing, intriguing: the fact he couldn't see the bottom of the sea was worrying, but exciting at the same time. He didn't know what to expect, because it was unknown.

Keith liked to swim where his feet couldn't touch the ground to escape from his safe zone. From his own fears.

Meeting Lance's eyes felt the same.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw Lance's expression: wide blue eyes locked in his, half-closed mouth, a light blush on his cheeks; he was looking at him so intensively that Keith felt in awe, like he wasn't worthy.

Those ocean eyes were making him drown.

Lance's tanned skin was bright and flawless, and Keith, in that moment, hated his ridiculous ghost skin more than usual – he didn't like to stay under the sun, so he was never tanned. His brown hair was short and perfectly combed, unlike Keith's that was always ruffled and all over the place – Shiro had proposed to get it cut many times, but had never won: Keith was too affectionate to his “80s haircut”.

As he'd already noticed when he was far away from them, Lance had a perfect body, that stood out in despite of the modest uniform he wore: taller than him, wide shoulders like a swimmer, long slender legs, muscly arms… What the hell, Keith? Calm your hormones!

They were like the moon and the sun, completely opposite to each other. Although, for once, Keith liked the sun's warmness.

How could he call that feeling?
It was like when he swam, but it wasn't.
Keith didn't want to drown in the ocean, he wanted to stay afloat, of course, so he'd never dived under water.

But, for some reasons, he wanted to drown in Lance's eyes. He wanted to find out what was at the bottom of his ocean. So, the feeling was definitely different. New.

Was it love at first sight?

No, impossible. Keith hated those sappy things.

“Pleased to meet you, I'm Lance, but you can call me McWonderfulClain!”

His hand was suddenly in Lance's. Keith tried to fight the flush in his face caused by the touch. Was he really that desperate to feel attraction towards… “ McWonderfulClain” ?

Yes, maybe he was.

Keith didn't know how to reply with the same confidence, so he decided to be himself. So, boring and party pooper, he thought. “… I'll stick with Lance.”

His name sounded like a melody on his tongue. He could have repeated it forever, but perhaps that wasn't the best thing to do in front of his friends… and Lance especially.

As soon as he introduced to Keith, Lance excused himself and went to the bar's back, because he had to work. Keith missed his warmness. Just a little, tho.

And that was the end, apparently.

Although he had been nervous about the concert, it had gone really well. He hadn't made any mistakes, so he was pretty proud of himself, also because of the viewers' good response: they had applauded them for a few minutes, whistling and throwing flowers. Maybe, just maybe, performing wasn't that bad. He could do it again if Greg asked, and Shiro proposed it.

Seeing his friends satisfied by the show was another incentive to repeat the experience.

Shiro complimented him, and that was precious: he had played the piano since he was a child, before even knowing Keith, and was not only his brother but also his teacher, the one who never gave up on him from the beginning, even when he had kicked the instrument swearing he would have never played again. Shiro was patient and caring, and mostly important, proud of his little brother who was finally growing up.

So, apparently, it wasn't the end.

Shiro, after the concert, had decided on his own to organize something with Hunk, Pidge and Lance.

And for some reasons Keith found himself dragged by an arm headed to them with Shiro at the lead.

“Guys, I'm sorry, do I bother you?” he asked, waving his hand. The three responded turning to face them, and suddenly Keith thought the floor had become more interesting to look at.

“Never.”

Keith swore that heartburn wasn't jealousy.

He rolled his eyes with annoyance, though he wasn't feeling it that much. Pidge had really influenced him with that move.

Lance was hot and all, but yeah, a little too flirty… and bothersome, like he knew he was attractive so he had to use this advantage to constantly tease people.

“As you know, Keith isn't really that affable...”

Oh my god, I wanna die.

Just on his own, he wasn't really making a good impression to Lance. So, why was his beloved brother trying to boycott him? The situation was already bad without his help.

“Shiro!” he exclaimed punching Shiro's shoulder. A blush made its way on his face before he could stop it.

Shiro ignored him. Sometimes he could be extremely obnoxious, but no one believed Keith when he said it: his older brother was “too kind to be mean to you”.

They obviously didn't know him.

“As I was saying… summer holidays have started, so, would you like to go out all together? It would be fantastic if Keith hanged out with people his age out of the academy… and always if you want, obviously, Allura, Coran and I could come with you sometimes.”

Keith sighed, exasperated by his brother, but he didn't try to contradict him. What was the point? He liked Pidge and Hunk, and alone in his house, especially during summer, he always got bored because he hadn't had anything else to do, besides playing the piano all day.

(And, there was an opportunity to see Lance again.)

Suddenly, Hunk squeezed him in one of his mortal hugs. He gasped for the surprise, but didn't push him away.

“Of course we can! We were going to ask the same!” Hunk yelled, and his deep voice rumbled in Keith's ears because of their proximity. He tried to return the affection by giving him a pat, but knew it looked awkward.

When Hunk freed him, Pidge asked: “Keith, any broken bones?”

He smiled. “I survived today too.”

Lance winced when he replied, but Keith didn't make a big deal out of that. Maybe it was always a surprise to hear Keith actually talking and not looking at the floor in silence. Yeah, pretty lame.

In the end the group decided to go at a festival that had been proposed by Shiro – he was truly trying to make Keith a little more sociable, like he couldn't see him locked in the house all day anymore (that was probably legit) – where pizza and chips were served by roadside stands.

Lance looked pretty happy with the plan, so Keith relaxed, positive that he would actually show up to go out with them.

With him.

Just for this time, he was going to thank Shiro.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

“Oh my god, can't you just get the goddamn license, Pidge- Yeah, I know that Hunk is busy. That doesn't change- okay okay, angry gremlin, I'm coming, jeez!”

Pidge always got mad really quick.

And for some reasons, it seemed more easy to lose her temper with Lance, who honestly couldn't figure out why.

Hunk hadn't showed up to his lesson because of a scheduled appointment, so Pidge's ride wasn't available that day, and that meant Lance had the duty to take her safe and sound back from the Academy.

When did it happen, obviously? On Lance's free day.

He had to leave his warm pajamas to put on stiff jeans and a blue shirt, just to look presentable. Not that at the Altea's Music Academy there were people to look hot for. There were only the handsomest guy alive, the reincarnation of a queen… and Keith. Well, Keith didn't need a particular title in order to make Lance's knees go weak. Whatever.

He knew where to go because they had the school's fliers literally everywhere in their house, so he had read the address on one of them. Fortunately, he must say, because Pidge hadn't even thought about that. Too busy complaining about Lance and his “attitude” on the phone – which didn't exist, thank you very much.

“Finally! Were you lost or what?!” Pidge exclaimed when she saw him on the front door of the building. She was on a chair while scrolling through her Facebook – she never checked it, so she must have been really bored.

“I would have been, since you didn't give me the address, dear Katie.” he responded with a smirk, and was happy to notice the guilt in his friend's eyes. She huffed a little and muttered a quick “Sorry.” before retrieving her guitar from the ground.

Lance already had a foot out of the Academy when Pidge stopped behind him. “Oh wait, I forgot my sheets in the classroom.”

He groaned with frustration. First she had complained about his delay – what delay, tho? - and then she forgot her damn sheets when she had all the time in the world to take them. Lance heavily sat on the chair with a lament, but waited for her anyway – for a moment he had been tempted to leave her there, but Hunk would have scolded him.

When he heard some footsteps approaching after a few minutes, Lance instinctively raised his gaze to look at Pidge and finally go home, but froze when he didn't see her.

“Oh… hey, Lance.”

The guy was fiddling on his feet, like he didn't have an idea of what to do in that kind of situation, where you meet someone you “know” but not exactly, so you have to decide if starting a conversation is too awkward or the right thing to do.

Keith looked around as he was searching the answer written on the academy's walls, until Lance finally talked. He was not gonna die on that chair waiting for Keith to open his pretty mouth.

Did he say pretty? No, definitely no.

“Hey, Keith. How you doing?” he exclaimed, winking. Even though they had met each other like three days before, Lance had understood one thing about that guy – besides the fact he was irritatingly handsome: Keith was shy and not used to Lance's explosive nature, so he had to repress it in order not to scare him. It was like he had to deal with a terrified animal.

“Um, fine, I was… playing the piano, as always.” Keith replied, uncertain and almost distracted. Was it that boring to talk with him? Keith consistently checked the classroom doors like if he was searching a loophole, and also, why did he have to use that apathetic tone? “As always”, do I have to know your habits?

Lance could ascertain the third thing he had noticed before but wasn't quite sure of until that moment: that kiddo was literally a pain in the ass. And when he met people like Keith, he liked to mess up with them, just to get an angry reaction.

Keith looked like the perfect lab rat.

“Is there a problem?” Lance snapped, furrowing his eyebrows while he stood up from the chair as if it suddenly burnt. Keith froze with wide eyes and didn't respond, completely speechless. Seeing his body response Lance felt bad for a moment: he looked really cute when he was worried.

Remember Lance, he's an asshole.

He was expecting an irritated retort from him, but Keith finally muttered: “I'm… just waiting for Shiro, sorry.” lowering his gaze on the floor, as he always did when flustered.

Lance knew he had to stop right there, leave that poor thing alone, quit being a bastard, but something inside his stomach that he couldn't recognize pushed him to continue with that stupid argument he was fighting by himself, since Keith hadn't the intention to encourage him.

Despite this, Lance pointed at him with anger, feeling the need to spit out the thoughts he had about him – Keith was just a spoiled guy who had everything and felt superior.

Or maybe, Lance was just trying to get noticed, to actually speak without clumsiness, and that was the only way he could think of.

“So you can talk with someone worthy of your presence, unlike me?” he sentenced crossing his arms on his chest, an eyebrow raised and a steady glare toward Keith.

The other boy stiffened with surprise at those words. Lance had passed the line and perfectly knew. The confirmation arrived when Keith glowered at him with contempt, before eventually released his rage. Lance thought he wouldn't want to see his angry face directed to him ever again.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Lance hesitated but, if you fuck up, at least do it well until the end. “Yeah, I get it, I can't play for shit so I'm not perfect as you are. Excuse me if I don't deserve to be around you, princess.”

I'm being ridiculous, I know. Pidge will kill me.

Keith was so shocked he literally laughed, incredulous. He grabbed his bag like he could destroy it with just his hand. “Are you fucking crazy?” Lance tried to come up with a clever response, but Keith raised his pointing finger to shush him before he headed to the frontal door.

Lance was venting his insecurity on him. The reality was, he felt inferior: Keith had this incredible talent, a close brother always ready to help him, good friends around him, a career already decided, probably he would attend the best college in the city, and he was hot, so every girl fell at his foot for sure.

Lance had a family that loved him, and he loved them, but they weren't always there for him, so he had to be independent. He had his best friends, but sometimes he felt they couldn't stand him because of his annoying complaints. Also, he wasn't rich so he had chosen a good college, but not the best around. Finally, every girl he flirted with rejected him or never answered his messages.

Keith had his back turned, and Lance felt multiple instincts: he wanted to say sorry, to start over, to insult him again, to voice his anxiety. But he couldn't.

Keith faced him. He was furious.

“You don't know me, so shut the fuck up. You don't know anything.”

The door slammed behind him.

Yeah, Lance had fucked up. Just a little.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

“So.”

Next search on Google: best funeral services in Altea.

“He, Keith Kogane, was trying to talk with you.”

Maybe he could ask for his grave to be blue.

“And you, Lance Roza McClain-”

“That's not my middle na-”

“And you ,you fucking dickhead , started a fight.”

Pidge was trembling. She looked like not punching him requested an enormous effort. Her eyes were on fire.

“I didn't exactly-”

“You called him princess and said you weren't worthy of his presence just because he's able to play the piano.”

Lance opened and closed his mouth.

“It's not- okay yeah it is, but hear me out!”

Pidge stood up and stopped him with a hand. “ No Lance, I don't want to hear your stupid voice ever again. Stop saying bullshit and grow up for once.”

“But he was mocking me!” Lance tried once more, searching Hunk's support with a desperate gaze.

Hunk shook his head. “Buddy, you know he wasn't. You screwed, get over it.”

Lance sighed and finally gave up. It was better to not talk with Pidge at the moment, since she wanted to kill him – her hands were shaking, so Lance, just to prevent a sudden attack, moved away from the couch to the chair. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, why did you do that?” Hunk asked, gently.

He shrugged like he couldn't explain his actions. He could, though, but he didn't want to say that loud because the reason was extremely stupid and he would have slapped himself. Although Hunk and Pidge were mad, but still his best friends, and maybe they would understand – after a severe scold – and help him.

“It's… listen, he looked bored and I panicked. I wanted to get a reaction from him, I wanted to- to talk, but he was uncomfortable because of me, and I felt unworthy.” Before Pidge could snap, he stopped her. “I know! It's foolish. I'm a horrible person.”

Hunk slowly breathed, then smiled. He placed a hand on Lance's shoulder to comfort him.

“No, you're not. You're just too competitive, melodramatic, impulsive, extra...”

“Okay okay, got it.”

They both laughed and Lance felt better, although Pidge wasn't talking since a few minutes. He dared to look up at her, praying she wouldn't kick him, and saw her intense look directed at him.

Pidge huffed. “You're going to apologize.”

It wasn't a question, nor an affirmation. It was an order.

Lance vigorously nodded and saluted her as she was a military general- she definitely looked like one.

“Yes, sir. I mean, milady. Is that right? I think it-”

“Lance.”

He burst out a laugh and felt a weight leave his stomach.

It was going to be okay. He only had to apologize.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Keith was furious.

No, no, cancel that. He was so pissed off he could have punched a wall and demolish it.

With all the attractive people in this damn world, he had had to choose the most irritating he had ever met. And, even though he was livid, he still found Lance handsome, and couldn't stop to think about him.

Keith prayed with all his heart that, like all the other ones, this crush would pass as quickly as possible. Three days and Lance was already driving him crazy. That was a record he had to acknowledge for sure, since it seemed like their own talent was the only thing that mattered for Lance.

Keith played the piano, Lance would be able to annoy even a monk. That was a gift not everyone had the honor to own.

What irritated him the most was the fact that Lance had talked like he knew Keith and his private life just by assumptions he had made when they first had encountered.

Those words were reverberating in his mind like a ritual.

“I'm not perfect as you are.”

He wasn't perfect. He was the opposite of it.

“Excuse me if I don't deserve to be around you, princess.”

Keith scoffed. He had seriously called him princess.

You would deserve it if you learned some manners, prick.

The reality was Lance had deserved to be around him from the beginning, so where was the problem? Keith had thought he was a funny guy, a little bad at flirting and tried too much to be cool when he already was, but nothing else. Instead, Lance had felt inferior just because he couldn't understand Keith's actions.

Maybe that “fight” wasn't only Lance's fault.

Okay, it was. But it had started because Keith looked diffident and distant, especially with him: that, obviously, was because he didn't want to face the fact he had a crush on Lance – which would go away soon, he must point out.

How could he act normal in front of his current crush, when he had problems with people in general?

As the hardheaded he was, though, Keith obviously refused to say sorry to him. The only one who had to was Lance.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Four days later, the festival started on Friday. It would end on Monday, like every year since the eighties, as Coran was explaining to the group while wildly gesturing with his hands. Recalling memories was an activity that had never failed to excite him, so the teenagers listened to his babbler until they arrived at the city square, where the festival was collocated.

Lance tried to comment the setting, but Pidge nearly killed him by frantically running to reach one of the stands that served pizza.

She loved pizza, if it wasn't clear.

“Pidge, stay close!” Shiro had already activated his dad mode.

Lance nodded with a grin. “Yeah, it's easy to lose you in the crowd since you're like ten centimeters tall!”

The girl was too busy with her pizza to hear his jokes: just a bite and her face lit up with happiness, her eyes shining while she made noises of appreciation.

The festival, even though it was just started, had lured lot of visitors thanks to its flashing colored lights, its deafening pop music that Lance sometimes could recognize, and its stands which, as Pidge was screaming, served delicious pizza and the best fries.

All of this was promising and interesting, especially for teenagers.

So, why did the only thing Lance could stare at was Keith?

Maybe because he looked so cute that Lance felt even more guilty for what he had done days ago. Erase that: he always looked cute, no matter what, and that made things worse.

Keith had his hair tied in a low ponytail, probably because of the evening's heat; he wore his red and white jacket, as always, but the shirt underneath had a logo on it, of a band he liked. Those damn skinny jeans were there too, as if to remind Lance about that perfect ass he could only stare at from far away.

But, the fact was, his purple eyes hadn't looked at him a single time. Not even by accident. That was worrying.

What if he didn't want to listen to Lance's apology? What if he had already decided it was over, even before a something close to friendship could be born?

He wasn't imagining this situation, because Shiro had noticed it too: they all had said hello at the beginning of the evening, but when Lance had greeted Keith, his little brother had hesitated before slightly nod with his head and look away. Pidge and Hunk didn't seem too surprised, like they already knew something wasn't right, so Shiro had tried to send a confused gaze towards Lance as to receive an explanation, but he didn't want to look like an asshole, so he had shrugged with fake indifference.

Yes, he was lying, but… Shiro was Keith's brother.

Probably he already thought Lance was an idiot, better not to confirm it even more.

The group wandered for an hour circa, and then decided to sit at a table to finally eat – even if Pidge had already eaten, she was hungry again. While waiting their pizzas, Shiro, Allura and Coran were discussing about the Academy; Pidge and Hunk were talking about some techno stuff as always. Lastly, Lance and Keith were awkwardly silent in front of each other. The other was staring the table, like it was more appealing than Lance.

He perfectly understood him. Why would he talk with him as if nothing had happened? As if Lance hadn't accused him of stupid things without even knowing him? Keith had all the rights to be mad. Despite this, Lance wanted to see those violet eyes locked on his like their first meeting.

“So, Greg asked for another concert?” Allura asked, and hearing Greg's name captured his attention. At least she was distracting him from the fact that Keith had decided to ignore him.

Shiro nodded. “Yes, he was super happy with the results of the first show, so he wants to try again.”

“When you left he talked about your performance for hours while we were cleaning.” Lance swooped in. “You conquered his heart!”

They smugly smiled at the compliment, but the only one he hoped to gain the attention from didn't even flinch a little bit: Keith remained still, with his eyes locked on the table's wood. He was staring so intensively that he could have burnt it.

Lance tried to divert his gaze from him, but not thinking about the situation was impossible: he thought about his speech, how he would apologize, how Keith might react, how to actually restore their… whatever it was before. Every case he supposed, though, all finished with Keith angrier and Lance with a black eye, because he knew how annoying he could become under pressure, and seeing the other detached and unwilling to even look at him was enough to make him nervous.

Shiro had mentioned something else, so the conversation had changed. Lance didn't want to be silent like Keith for the rest of the night, that wasn't his nature, so he listened until they finished. Thinking about the first thing he had in his mind, Lance raised the pointing finger and tried to look casual as he spoke.

“So, Allura! You play the violin, don't you?”

The girl appeared confused at first, like she wouldn't expect a question like that one – especially from Lance, but then she recovered and looked pleased.

“Yes, I've been playing since I was little.”

Lance nodded. “I can't wait to see you perform. You must be great and really dedicated, am I right?”

As always, he couldn't suppress his flirty talk, and Allura didn't seem to mind too much. Maybe she had already got used to it.

“I can't confirm the 'great' part, but I really am passionate. I love my violin.” She turned and smiled to her colleague musicians. “And I'm so happy to see the same love from talented people, like you.”

Shiro shook his head and grinned sheepishly. Was he blushing? Lance remembered Pidge's words about the two being a couple, and at first he wouldn't have believed it, but now he understood her security. He felt a little jealous, unsure of which one instigated this feeling more, yet aware of his nonexistent possibilities with both. Plus, right now his mind was busy with someone else, as hard it was to admit to himself.

(Even though that someone probably wanted to vanish from his life forever and never see him again.)

“Allura...” Hunk muttered, trying to kindly protest, but didn't add anything else. Lance nudged him with a proud smile: Hunk didn't understand how good he was at playing the guitar, even if everyone complimented him.

“No, I'm serious! Hunk has improved so much in just a year, it's impressive. He's devoted and I know for sure he has a future in the music sector.” The big guy's face was red, and Allura laughed before continuing. “Same for Pidge. She absolutely rocks with her electric guitar! I wish I could play with equal grit.”

Pidge winced in her chair, and murmured something incomprehensible while her cheeks started to change color. Lance ruffled her hair and she pushed his hand away, hiding a smirk. He knew Allura was famous for her talent, so her compliments must have been precious for his friends. He was proud to see that not only him could recognize their endowment, but even popular musicians like her. They deserved it.

“And Keith had played since forever. It's like he was born with extraordinary abilities. When he plays, I feel totally captured by his melodies.”

Lance stiffened at those words, but not as much as Keith: she obviously had no idea, but their discussion of some days before was about Keith's talent with the piano – and again, Lance felt like an idiot. That was a quality to be proud of, and he had been able to transform it into something negative for Keith, just because of his unjustifiable envy. The raven-haired boy looked away blushing and covered his mouth with a hand. “Stop that, Allura.” His voice was muffled by the fingers on his lips.

There was a brief silence: Shiro was trying to obtain his brother's attention to have an “eye conversation”, but failed, because Keith refused to acknowledge him. No one knew what to say, but Lance felt like that was the right moment to make a move.

“I think that's cool. You were awesome, last Saturday. I'm not a musician, but I can recognize you're talented.”

Pidge turned her face towards him. He tried to ignore her malicious grin, but his cheeks were already hot and pink.

They became completely red when he saw Keith's reaction.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Keith had to uncover his mouth, because his palms were suddenly sweaty.

Lance had talked directly to him.

Lance had complimented him.

That night he had decided to ignore Lance, because he was still furious and wanted to show his anger. Maybe Lance was used to people that forgave him immediately, but he wasn't like that, so he had to suffer before receiving absolution.

But when he heard those words, Keith forgot his intentions: that compliment was genuine, not forced by Pidge or Hunk, it came from Lance's heart. He was really trying to apologize – in his way, obviously, but Keith appreciated it anyway. Actually, he would have refused to listen to his excuses if Lance had tried to talk to him after the festival. It would have seemed artificial, like he had to do it just to redeem himself, just to free his chest from the weight of guiltiness, if he felt any of it. Instead, when he raised his eyes to look at the ocean ones in front of him, Keith saw the reality: the guiltiness was there, showed by a bittersweet smile.

He wanted to erase the sadness: it was horrible on his usual happy face. It was out of place.

Keith cleared his throat. “Um… thank you, Lance.”

There was uncertainty in his voice, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt. Lance had startled when he had looked at him, and became red.

Lance was blushing... because of him.

It was gratifying, somehow.

Finally, the sorrow left and was replaced by a familiar smirk.

Not his common, though: this one was filled with relief, as if Lance was praying to receive a positive reaction from him and not a disgusted glare.

“No problem, dude.” Lance replied. His words were self-confident, but his expression was kind, almost timid.

Keith's stomach was boiling, and he blamed it on the lack of food.

In part, it was real.

After the pizza, the gang decided to go for a “digesting walk”, as Allura called it. Keith was feeling heavy like a rock, so he didn't trust his legs to work, but Allura insisted until everyone got up from their sit to follow her.

Okay, so, Shiro had to ask Allura out.

They were walking hand in hand behind the group, like they hoped their friends couldn't see them, but those two were so obvious it hurt. “We're not a couple!” Shiro always said, and Keith had to stop himself from hitting his brother with a shoe.

They were not officially together just because both of them didn't have the courage to take the first step, but in theory they were, like, fucking married.

Coran had confiscated Hunk and Pidge to talk about… honestly Keith didn't even know anymore. That man always had new topics, even though he was busy with the academy everyday.

So, as if the faith was so bored it had to joke around, Keith found himself next to Lance while they were walking, both quiet.

Lance seemed nervous: he was continuously fidgeting with his fingers; sometimes he looked around singing to himself, just to break the awkward silence. Keith bet it was extremely difficult for a talkative guy like Lance to be still and silent for more than a few minutes, so he appreciated his effort to respect Keith.

“Anyway, I'm sorry.”

Lance hadn't opened his mouth. That voice was Keith's.

He froze and tried to look uninterested, but his insides were literally on fire. That apologize must have come from a part of the brain he couldn't totally control, because Keith would have never said it consciously. The stupid fight was Lance's fault, no doubt!

He expected a laugh or a sarcastic 'thank you', but the tanned boy stopped, grabbing Keith on the wrist. “For what?”

Keith tried to remain focused on Lance's question and not on the warmness of his fingers. He leered behind to see where Shiro and Allura were, just to be sure they didn't notice anything: fortunately, the two lovebirds were far away, in front of a stand that sold jewelery. Smooth move, Shiro.

Keith hesitated. “For… my attitude, last time.”

Lance eased his grab, but didn't let go. He observed his face for so long Keith started to worry – is there a bug on my nose? - but finally Lance shook his head. He was really serious. Another emotion Keith didn't like on him. Lance had to be happy.

“No, Keith. I'm the one who has to apologize.” He sighed. “It's just that… I was envious. I felt inferior. But my compliment was sincere, you're great.”

“Envious?”

“Yeah, but I don't know anything about your life, I can't talk about you. Sorry, you've got every right to be mad at me.”

Keith lowered his head for just a moment, to look at their hands. He fought the blush that threatened to appear on his cheeks, but the warmness on them gave him the impression it was already there. Lance had read his feelings like he had had free access inside his mind. He was really empathic, unlike Keith.

“Lance...” his voice cracked, so he tried again, slower. “I feel the same… You don't have to-”

The other seemed shocked, so he stopped talking.

“Wait. You feel the same? Jealous of me?”

Keith nodded, unsure. Lance didn't do anything to hide his surprise at that revelation, like it was unbelievable. He let go Keith's hand, who already missed his touch, and ruffled his own hair with a strange smile.

“I don't understand why… well, I mean, I do because look at me, I would be jealous too- but, you are Keith so that's incredible- yeah, okay, maybe I'm taller and tanner, that makes sense, but-”

Keith couldn't suppress a loud laugh: Lance was rambling like Pidge when she was nervous, and he wasn't making any sense. His thoughts were always handed on a plate, while Keith still struggled to talk freely even about normal needs – Shiro had to become a detective to discover if Keith was hungry or not, or his little brother could have risked to die from starving. In his own defense, Keith didn't want to disturb Shiro with his “superficial problems”.

Perhaps he had imagined it, but Lance flinched hearing his laugh. He had a weird expression, like he was… completely captured by that sound? Impossible, Keith thought. My laugh is so irritating that even I can't stand it.

The red on Lance's ears was screaming otherwise, though.

For once, Keith let himself to fantasize a little, to believe his hopes were true: Lance's mouth was agape in a silly, – extremely cute – smile, his eyes were shining, and his long nose was darker because of the red flush. The handsome, tanned boy with mesmerizing blue eyes was admiring him, totally transfixed.

And Keith loved it.

When he recovered a few seconds later, Lance nervously coughed and mumbled unconnected words – Keith wondered why he was so agitated. Usually, for what he knew from Pidge, Hunk and his own short experience with him, Lance was always self-confident.

“Yeah, so… thank you for… your forgiveness- look, there's a concert over there! Let's go, Mullet!”

Keith followed his pointing finger, but stopped to register his words. “Wait” he deadpanned, “Did you just call me Mullet-”

Lance grinned and finger-gunned him with a wink. “Well, since now we're cool, you have received the privilege, as a friend of Lance, to be called by nicknames. You're welcome!”

Keith scoffed, trying to protest, but Lance began to sprint towards the concert, which was starting in that moment.

“Last one to the stage is a loser!” he screamed like a child, in the middle of a laugh, and Keith didn't understand what he had said at first. The realization arrived too late, but he dashed anyway, like it was a matter of life or death. He wasn't competitive, at all, but something convinced him to challenge himself.

Like when he swam, he wanted to escape from his limits.

To exceed for once.

And yes, maybe a silly run wasn't extreme or super ambitious, but Lance was. That guy made him feel on the edge of a high, terrifying trampoline, but ready to jump.

His lips curved in a large smile.

“Lance, you cheater!”

Chapter Text

After Hunk had strangely insisted many times, Lance decided to accompany him at the Altea's Music Academy.

Pidge and Hunk were attending the school since a year and some months, and in just around two weeks he had visited it two times. The first had gone… “bad” was a euphemism, but fortunately he had fixed everything with Keith. This time he obviously wanted to avoid another fight, and to make it possible, he had to avoid the school, and Keith. But Hunk was pleading him with those irresistible puppy eyes…

So, Operation: escape from the Mullet.

If they didn't meet, Lance couldn't fuck up, right?

“My boy!” Coran appeared behind the classroom's door. “Oh, you brought Lance too!”

They both smiled, influenced by his usual cheerful tone: Lance had already learned the old man was a little like him, always smiling and trying to lighten up everyone. Coran was like the school's uncle – and Shiro was the dad, even though he disagreed.

Hunk fixed the guitar on his shoulder, before they exchanged a fist bump. “You wanna go home?”

“No, I can wait here.” Lance replied, already checking the corridors. Keith was nowhere to be seen, apparently.

Hunk nodded. “Okay, see you later. If you get bored, take a walk around the school.”

“Sure thing.”

It wasn't a sure thing. At all.

Lance decided he preferred to grow roots on the chair rather than visit the Academy and risk to meet Keith. Don't get him wrong: he liked Keith as a potential friend – and he liked Keith in other ways, but that wasn't something Lance was ready to admit completely – but after the festival, a strange feeling in his stomach had scared him to the point he wasn't sure he could see Keith again without dying.

They had laughed, joked, run, like they had known each other since forever. Like they hadn't fought three days before. And Lance couldn't ignore the happy and warm feeling he had in his chest for Keith's instant forgiveness. It would have been easier to forget him if he had been an asshole, but… unfortunately, he wasn't. So, to make everything clear: Keith Kogane was hot, kind, funny, talented, and Lance McClain was totally fucked.

Minutes later, and it wasn't a surprise since he was a hyperactive guy, Lance started to get bored. All the socials were dead, like his phone's battery in that exact moment, so he had nothing else to do other than get up and visit the school. He reluctantly stood up, shooting a look at the chair like it could save him from his destiny, and started the tour from Coran's classroom.

Altea's Music Academy had a lot of simple rooms, all dedicated to diverse instruments and teachers. From most of them Lance could hear various music and voices, but it wasn't an annoying mix of clashing sounds: it was like, even though they were different, they created a harmony together. Lance wondered why, with all those classrooms, he had to stop in front of Shiro's.

The door was closed, with a plate that read the number six on it. On its left there was a little notice board with a paper attached where Lance immediately recognized a big name written at the top of it: “Takashi Shirogane”.

Under his there were other names Lance didn't know, probably scheduled turns for the lessons. While thinking this, his mind read a familiar name without understanding it, at first.

“Keith Kogane”. Obviously. He knew he was Shiro's student, so that wasn't unexpected.

But the shiver through his spine told him otherwise.

Fortunately his turn would be later, and Lance breathed out of relief. The breath got stuck in his throat, though, because right in that moment Takashi got out of the classroom with a student.

“Oh, Lance! What brought you here?”

A cruel joke of the destiny, probably.

“Hunk asked me to come. I'm waiting him.”

Shiro nodded and staid silent, but didn't move from the door, like he was expecting Lance to continue the conversation. He actually wanted to do that, because a question had grown in his mind while looking at the notice board.

“Um, so, Shiro, can I ask you something?”

He was surprised, but didn't hesitate. The kindness never left him. Lance wondered where the younger brother had learned to be so aggressive and distant, but also considered that in fact he had threatened a negative reaction from Keith on purpose, so he couldn't judge. “Sure!”

He scratched the back of his neck and lowered his eyes to the ground, suddenly less confident. What if Shiro thought that question was invasive? But, before he could rethink too much, it left his mouth. “I noticed you and Keith have different surnames, but you said you're brothers?”

Shiro leaned on the door, smiling. At least Lance could relax a little, seeing that gentle expression the man always wore. He wanted to ask Pidge and Hunk if they ever saw him mad, because he couldn't imagine it. “Oh, Keith's adopted.”

What.

Lance voiced his thoughts. “What?”

He didn't have anything against adoption, or family houses, why would he? So his reaction wasn't meant to be disrespectful – or worse, pitying, but he still felt bad for it. And, even worse, he had envied Keith for his “perfect life”, when it wasn't at all. Now he completely understood his anger that day, and couldn't blame him: he would have reacted in the same way.

“His parents had died when he was six, so mine had adopted him.” Shiro passed a hand through his lock of white hair. “Legally he's a Shirogane, but he wanted to keep his real surname to remember them.”

Lance froze.

Yes, the option of his parents abandoning him was horrible, but… they had died. Keith was just a child, he had to grow up, to go to school, to learn new things, to… live with them. Not to think of how to raise himself without an essential guide.

Lance felt a heavy weight on his chest while his eyes were threatening to fill with tears, but he fought them back.

He couldn't even imagine to live a life without his mama and his papa… how could Keith actually live that?

Suddenly, everything was clearer.

“He's really strong… I admire him.”

Lance flinched because of his own words, but that was the reality, he couldn't deny it. “I'm sorry” didn't sound good or appropriate: Keith wasn't a poor thing to feel sympathy for, to look at like he was a hurt animal on the street. How many times had he received that kind of response from people, when they discovered his past? That must have been annoying.

Shiro didn't react immediately. He observed the other guy for what felt like years, and Lance, abruptly self-conscious, started fidgeting under his unreadable gaze.

Did I say the wrong thing?

Maybe Shiro would have preferred to receive the usual “I'm sorry”, because who hadn't lived that experience on his own skin couldn't understand, so it was better to just homogenize and dissociate instead of trying to actually understand and be supportive?

Okay, perhaps I'm over-thinking. Or perhaps not?

But then, as Lance's brain was starting to implode, Shiro softly laughed with a fond look in his eyes, and Lance felt like he could have melt there, on the ground, in front of the piano classroom.

“I knew you were different, Lance.” He ruffled his short brown hair, still smiling affectionately. “I hope you and Keith will become good friends.”

Lance barely managed to stifle a squawk.

His mind wasn't able to process what Shiro had just said, because it seemed impossible. Probably Pidge and Hunk were right, he really was over-dramatic, but for once he decided to not care and let himself react in a perfect “Lance style”. Though, not in front of the man who had just put his trust in his hands: just on the inside, where no one could see anything.

On the outside, instead, Lance sheepishly grinned and nodded, to prove he genuinely believed in his words. Because he did.

“I hope that too.”

Nathan – another piano student – arrived for his lesson, so Lance had to leave after an unexpected but pleasant conversation with Shiro. They had talked about everything and nothing, Lance couldn't even remember exactly what were the topics, but it had been funny. Takashi was a precious being that no one could dare to hurt if they didn't want to be beaten up by Lance – even if he knew he was totally able to defend himself, with those big muscles.

Plus, Shiro had helped him to understand better his little brother, so Lance had more possibilities to make Keith feel comfortable around him and his vivacity.

Keith could trust him to open up and be completely himself.

As if he was called by Lance's thoughts, the raven-haired boy appeared on the corner of the same corridor Lance was wandering.

They nearly crashed, but they both stopped just a second before the impact. With his body, Lance's heart stopped too at the sight of Keith. The only person he was avoiding.

He could have met everyone else, instead of him. But here he was, with his stupid black hair and his stupid mullet and his stupid perfect face and his stupid purple eyes which were stubbornly fixed on Lance's as if they were trying to dig a hole in them.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Look who's back on our battlefield!”

Lance mentally punched himself.

That was probably the dumbest thing he could say to try to be funny and not ruin a possible civil conversation. He didn't know what made him so nervous, okay? He was all cool and chill the second before, and just the second after his mind was activating self-destruction at the vision of Stupid-Keith-With-A-Mullet.

It wasn't rational, at all, he knew that, but he failed to control himself every time, no matter how hard he tried.

Keith made him panic and he didn't understand why.

“I… I'm a student here.”

Yes, he seemed confused. Yes, he was using that apathetic tone like he knew everything again.

Yes, Lance had learned the lesson: he was just insecure, and not trying to mock him. With a better analysis, in fact, Lance was able to catch the weakness in his voice. Keith was… almost scared to say something wrong and trigger another fight?

That was… cute.

Lance's heart felt lighter; his posture relaxed unconsciously, and a soft smile played on his lips. He didn't have to be worried or afraid: Keith was willing to talk with him, just like normal friends.

He shook his head, letting out a brief laugh. “Yeah, you're right. I guess I was just trying to make you laugh, but I failed.”

And then Keith – like he wanted to kill Lance – smiled sheepishly, a light pink on his cheeks, his violet eyes brighter and… mesmerizing. Was he staring? Yeah, probably.

“You- you don't have to try. You're just funny, I guess?” Keith murmured with his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he didn't have the courage to look at Lance.

And Lance thanked him, because if he had said it looking at him, he would have certainly died there, no doubt.

That was a compliment. From Keith.

Faking a cough, Lance used his hand to cover his face, in order to hide the flush that was coloring his tanned skin, suddenly more sweaty. “Oh yeah? I guess too,” He said with a casual tone, like there wasn't a burning feeling in his chest. “Um, I- I have to-”

He tried to back off and run away, but Keith went forward, as if he wanted to take his hand, but changed his mind in the last moment.

Instead, he mumbled something unintelligible, scratching the back of his neck, before uttering comprehensible words. “Do you- um, do you want to-” He pointed at the class at his right, and Lance noticed it was close to Hunk's, “I'm playing the piano in that room, while I wait for my brother, so I was wondering- would you like to keep me company there?”

Lance was so astonished that he didn't even try to muffle a high-pitched squawk, this time. A noise that made Keith visibly winced, with wide eyes. Was he red or was Lance just imagining it?

Seeing his bizarre reaction, Keith started to fiddle on his feet, shaking his head. “I mean, if you want, I'm not forcing y-”

“Yes!” Lance exclaimed, and then tried to repeat with less excitement – failing, because it was still there in his voice. “I- Yes, I can keep you company. Shall we- um, let's go?”

Keith froze for just a moment, surprised. His lips twitched, creating a little amused smile.

Okay, he was definitely red, Lance couldn't imagine that much redness even if he wanted.

“Y-Yeah, let's go.” he whispered, and show the way with an unsure gesture of the hand.

Mostly important, he was still smiling like a dork.

He could hear Pidge's voice in his head as if she was there.

Gross. And gay.

The classroom was identical to the one where Shiro taught, as much as Lance had been able to see through the half-opened door: white walls with some posters attached on it, a large wood cabinet, and in the center of the room a black piano with a stool in front of it of the same shade. Simple, but interesting for someone who didn't frequent music schools that much.

It was empty and silent, unlike the other rooms. Keith began to explain like he had read Lance's mind. “I come here to play alone while I wait for my turn with Shiro. This classroom isn't used like the one you probably saw before.”

Lance nodded understandingly, and started to wander around the little class. There wasn't a lot to see, but it was better than stay too close to Keith and risk to explode.

They were alone. In a small and too quiet space.

He hoped Keith wasn't able to hear his noisy heartbeat.

Above the black piano there were some posters, but one of them especially captured Lance's attention. It was a list of signatures under a big red title that read “Altea's annual music competition”. He had already seen it near Hunk's classroom, on the right of the door, that's why it looked familiar.

Scrolling through the names, he couldn't find Keith's.

“Don't you want to join?” he asked, pointing at the poster.

Keith shrugged, strangely annoyed. He crossed his arms on his chest, and looked away. “No, not particularly.”

Lance felt puzzled. He was… amazing? Was he scared? Of what?! He could have probably won with a minimum effort. “But why? You would be extraordinary, man!”

The other frowned his eyebrows and shook his head, with the arms more clutched than before. “I don't want to, Lance.” He replied, his tone aggressive and almost threatening. That violent approach, again… Keith used it when he was nervous or uncomfortable, like a defense mechanism. However, he couldn't always avoid topics he didn't like, especially when they were about rare occasions of showing his abilities to the world. Lance felt obliged to insist, even if Keith was getting bothered.

“Listen, I know you're scared, but-” he started, but was interrupted by an irritated snort.

“No, you don't. You're assuming things, again.”

Lance had to take a long breath to remain calm. Or at least, try to. He thought they were cool, Keith had apologized, he had apologized, they were okay, right? No, apparently. Keith had to fucking ruin everything, even though Lance was forcing himself to be polite. What annoyed him the most was that he had started to think it wasn't a constraint anymore.

He truly enjoyed Keith's company. Until now.

“Okay, dude, you know what? Go fuck yourself. I was just trying to convince you to come out of your shell once in a while, since you have all the potential to actually win-”

“Stop it! I won't join that fucking competition, case closed!”

Keith was red. His hands were clenched in fists so tight that his knuckles were white as the glimpse of his teeth showing through his stretched lips. Lance backed off in one step, raising his hands in front of himself. Why the fuck is he always so angry?!

“Jeez, Keith, calm down! It's just a stupid contest, oh my god!”

As if those words had been magic, the boy slowly relaxed his posture, regaining a normal skin color. He looked at his feet, unable to lift up his face contracted in guiltiness.

“I'm- I'm sorry.” Keith muttered, his voice a little rough because of the precedent scream. He run a hand through his own untamed hair. “I didn't want to yell at you. It's just- … never mind, you probably want to leave. I'm really sorry.”

Lance wanted to. The door was behind him, he just had to reach the handle and get the fuck out of that damned academy. Every time he had been there, something bad had happened.

But… Keith's eyes were watery.

Those big, deep, beautiful purple eyes threatened to fill with tears, and probably would have been if Lance had left. He wasn't an expert, a psychologist, none of it, but he could understand that Keith didn't need another person to leave him with regrets, even if they had just met.

So he decided to stay, and be sympathetic.

Lance sighed. “Go on.”

That stupid mullet boy flinched and snapped his head up so fast he could have broken his neck. Wide violet eyes were fixed in his, surprised and quizzical. A slight frown furrowed his eyebrows.

So cute, it's impossible. How does he do that?

Lance rolled his eyes. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Keith nodded, fidgeting with his fingers. “Everyone keeps insisting, as if I had to, but… I-I'm scared.” He stopped to sigh. “Sorry if I snapped at you saying I'm not, but that's difficult to admit. I feel pathetic.”

Honestly, that was brave to say. Hunk was right: at first Keith was an enormous question mark, but he was starting to open up a little, letting out his emotions. Lance wondered if he always said these private thoughts to everyone, or if he was an exception. A little – annoying – spark of hope burnt in his chest. He quickly extinguish it with a loud scoff. “Welcome to Emotionland, where everyone feels things.” He then continued, a little more gentle. “Keith, it's okay to be scared. But, in my opinion, people insist because they're sure you can do it. And I am too. At least think about it?”

Keith shrugged. “Um.”

“Keith?”

“Okay, okay! I'll think about it, promise.”

Lance threw his hands in the air, celebrating his victory with a howl that turned into a laugh when Keith shushed him, asking to be quieter because the other students may hear him. Saying this, though, he was smiling. No trace of anger in his voice.

Lance was proud. Of himself.

Of Keith, especially. He had to work on his manners and he hadn't said officially yes to join the competition, but… he had promised, even if Lance hadn't asked him to do so.

Keith was hoping as much as he was.

Maybe that promise wasn't only for Lance, but for himself too.

“…to play?”

Lance startled, hearing Keith's voice again. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't understand the question. The other was sit on the stool near the piano, with his fingers on the white keys.

He shook his head, feeling a little ashamed. Keith had invited him in his “habit” and he was distracted like he didn't care. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked you if you have ever tried to play the piano.”

Lance pouted a little. “Oh, no, I don't think I can do it.” Keith seemed perplexed, so he added: “What?”

“Nothing...” he tried to reply, but then shrugged and continue. “It's just- you're always confident, so it's… strange to hear you saying things like that.”

He had a point – Lance looked confident most of the times, but Keith didn't know about his private issues, about his “mask” that sometimes could slip off by accident, or on purpose when he felt safe and ready to express his real emotions to people who were trusted. It hurt a little but, just for now, he didn't have to know about all of his personal troubles.

He already had his own, which were enough.

“I don't think I can do it, but, maybe you can try to teach me?” Lance asked, with a teasing note in his voice that hid hope.

He sat on the stool, on Keith's left, and stared at the pentagram like it was an odd language he couldn't understand. That, indeed, was real: he didn't know how to read music. He remembered that during the first grades of school he had learned how to play the flute, but by now he had forgotten everything, so he had to learn all again – and honestly he wasn't minding too much, since his new teacher was a handsome guy who knew a lot more than he did about music for sure.

Keith looked smaller, like he had shrank all of a sudden. Maybe he was feeling uncomfortable because of their vicinity. Lance hoped not – he liked the heat of his body against his own. “Of course, we can try. Do you know the musical notes?”

Lance paused to think for a moment. He raised a hand to count with his fingers. “C, D, E, F, G, A and B, right?”

The other slightly nodded. “Correct.” He put his right hand on the white keys, placing it in the middle of the keyboard, where the central C was located. That action looked so simple and habitual, Keith must have done it so many times it had become almost automatic. A quick look at the pentagram in front of him and Keith started to play the song written on it, at the speed of light. Lance was shocked by his skills: Keith was so agile he could barely see his fingers moving. In despite of the pace, not a single note was missed or off-key, everything sounded perfect and in time.

Lance had to reaffirm what he had said: Keith was amazing. He could have won that contest with his eyes closed, guaranteed.

“I bet this is just warming-up for you.” Lance commented, with a smirk on his face.

Keith lightly blushed, giving back the smile. “Um… kind of?”

There was just a brief pause before another sound, lighter than the preceding, started from the instrument, a basic melody Lance knew but couldn't name. It reminded him of his childhood, somehow. Keith was playing slowly, – completely opposite to the first song – articulating each note as if to make things easier for the other boy, who was carefully observing. When the song stopped, Lance looked up, waiting an explanation.

Keith bit his lip. “This is 'Are you sleeping?'. Shiro teaches it to the younger students when they start to play. I thought it could be simple for you...”

Oh, that's why I felt like I knew it.

Maybe it was the first time he taught how to play to someone, so he was nervous and unsure of what to say. Lance appreciated his effort to think about a song he could easily learn, so he didn't waste any more time and put his right hand on the keys, next to Keith's, trying to copy the exact position of it.

“Okay, in music we number our fingers to facilitate everything. Therefore, your thumb is one, your index finger is two, and so on. Do you want to try?” Lance must have looked doubtful, because Keith continued, trying to reassure him. “I'll play with you.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance nodded.

He didn't know why he was so nervous, but it didn't surprise him: apparently, during those days every single thing concerning a certain mullet made him tense.

With his left hand, Keith started to keep time hitting his thigh. He looked at Lance and nodded to give him the go; at the same time he played the first note with his thumb, which was the C.

“Go with the one.”

Lance pressed the key and the two sounds combined together.

“Now two.”

They were already going in sync, which was surprising – at least for Lance.

He was so focused on following Keith that when the song finished he nearly didn't notice. With more confidence, he asked to try faster this time. His teacher – are we closer than before or is it an impression? - smiled for his excitement, and agreed.

“One, two, three, one, one, two, three.” Keith started to count while they were playing the correspondent notes. Easy, Lance thought. It was simpler than what he had expected, and even funny, after he had got the hang of it.

Guided by his inexperience, though, Lance got distracted right when he would have had to play the fastest part of the song: he missed a note, cursed, and stopped his hand to try again. But, in the meantime, Keith hadn't messed up – obviously, because he can't stop to be perfect just for a couple of seconds – so their hands crushed together, and the sound abruptly shut down.

Keith froze with his hand on Lance's, who made no mention to move his own. Both of them were staring at the hands like they were a strange alien creature appeared from nowhere.

“S-sorry… I-” Keith muttered with a raspy voice.

Lance shot his head up to look at him, suddenly awake. Keith followed his gaze and their eyes finally met.

It wasn't an impression.

They were closer than before.

Lance swore he had tried with all his body to lock his stare in Keith's, but something under was attracting him even more than the breathtaking purple, and he thought it would have been impossible. But those plump lips were literally calling him.

With the tail of his eyes Lance caught a twitch in Keith's: he was looking at his lips. And they were closer? When did it happen?

What's happening what's happening what's-

“Keith!”

No Olympic jumper could have competed with the two guys in that moment. Lance almost fell from the stool in a desperate attempt to back off, while Keith had bumped into the piano trying to stand up. They were far away from each other when Shiro walked in the classroom, but the violent red blush on their cheeks was impossible to hide.

Shiro, apparently unaware of the situation, smiled at Lance. “Oh, hey! Keith was teaching you how to play the piano?”

He flinched, terrified. Oh my god, Takashi's going to kill me if he finds out I was trying to kiss his little brother.

He vigorously nodded. “Yeah, exactly, he was ki- teaching me, he's a good teacher- oh, d-do you hear Hunk calling me? Because I hear him, so I gotta go! Goodbye!”

Without waiting for an answer he sprinted out of the classroom, searching for his best friend.

If Shiro hadn't interrupted them, he knew as a matter of fact that he would have kissed Keith.

And then what would have happened? Nothing could have stayed the same after that mistake.

There was no going back. What if a stupid kiss would have ruined not only their relationship, but their friends' too?

Lance needed to find Hunk. He had to leave right in that moment.

This is the last time I'm coming here, I swear to God!

Shiro turned around.

“Is he okay?” He asked, a little worried.

Keith wanted to bury himself and die from shame.

____________________________________________

“Okay mom, I'll do it. Call you tomorrow, bye.”

Shiro hanged up the phone with a sigh that called Allura's attention. She was putting her violin in its case after her last lesson with a new student, and was ready to go home to read one of her favorite books while drinking a cup of tea lying on her couch. But, seeing Shiro's expression, Allura put that tempting idea away to worry about her – yeah, she always felt like a thirteen years old when she thought of him like that – crush.

She remembered when all of this had started, three years ago, when Shiro and Keith had joined Altea's Music Academy. It was love at first sight, really: who could possibly blame her? Takashi Shirogane was one of the most handsome guys she had ever seen in her life. No one was like him: starting from his appearance – his lock of white hair, that strange pink scar he had on his nose and his prosthetic right arm were not things someone could witness everyday – complimented by an amazing, caring, funny personality that was like the icing on the cake for Allura; needless to say, she was totally fucked in the exact moment Takashi had entered in the academy.

Assuming for sure he had a girlfriend – and if not, he had probably millions of girls at his feet – she had decided to be friends with him, at least. Shiro was an enjoyable guy anyway.

Their friends, however, didn't agree with her. She couldn't be his friend because they were literally made for each other and were pining at full power, without realizing it.

Allura knew she loved Shiro. She had liked him for years, but now she was sure that feeling was deeper than before.

She didn't know Shiro reciprocated, just because he didn't want to confess to her, afraid of rejection – no matter how much their friends denied that possibility, he knew she was out of his reach.

So, assuming for sure she had a boyfriend – and if not, she had probably millions of boys at her feet – he had decided to be friends with her, at least.

Allura was a funny, kind and an amazing person anyway.

“Friends don't hold hands with heart eyes while chatting about useless things.” Keith had said to him after the festival.

Absurd. Friends do those things, right? Right.

There was nothing more between them.

So he chose to be selfish, to cherish those precious moments imagining they could really become a couple.

“What's wrong?” Allura asked with her eyebrows slightly furrowed. She tried to comfort him with a caress on his shoulder – that gave him shivers, but he hoped she didn't notice.

Shiro shrugged and smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Don't worry. My mom always calls asking about Keith because he never contacts her and she's worried.” He sat on the stool behind him. “Because of, you know… his crisis.”

Allura nodded, understanding.

Keith had become like a little brother, so she felt concerned too. Their parents lived in Arus, not far away from Altea, but Keith didn't want to make a big deal, so he had asked Shiro to spare the details about his problems. They knew their mom was apprehensive, especially since they had moved to another city, away from her wing. She had insisted to bring Keith to a psychologist after his second crisis, and he had accepted just because he knew she was trying to help – even if after two sessions he had quit.

“She wanted to come here, but… Keith would kill me if I accepted. I had to say we're busy with our concerts everyday.”

“That's not entirely a lie.” Allura muttered softly.

A little laugh erupted from his lips, and she felt relieved.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He frowned. “I don't know about you, but I feel old when I can't understand teenagers.”

Allura laughed, her white teeth showing between her soft lips, adorned with a hint of transparent lip gloss. “And why is that?”

Shiro fiddled on the chair. Was it wrong to talk about Keith's affairs without his permission?

Not that much, he thought. It was nothing too personal, and he knew Allura would be quiet as mouse. He told her about that strange scene he had witnessed: Lance and Keith five meters apart from each other, completely red and sweaty, embarrassed for something that had happened before his entrance. Lance had run away like a panicked gazelle after some delirious excuses, and Keith had been grumpy since then.

“He didn't want to talk. I'm preoccupied, what if he's suffering and I can't help him? What if this… whatever it was, can trigger another crisis?” Shiro blathered, flailing his hands to emphasize the concept.

Allura crossed her arms and didn't reply. When Shiro finally calmed down, she just grinned as if she knew everything in the world – which was probably true. That guy… he was oblivious, but for her the situation was blatant. There was nothing to worry about, Shiro didn't understand yet his cute little brother was just growing up, like all teenagers. And Lance was helping him, she had noticed it since their first meeting. “Shiro… now, calm down. Everything will be alright, don't worry. I promise.”

Her words were gentle, but she still had an amused grin, and Shiro felt like he was missing something she had understood immediately. He hunched his shoulders. “Are you sure?”

She chuckled. “I swear.”

Shiro smirked, but something in her gaze was unusual. She looked like she was analyzing him with her narrowed eyes and her little pout that was adorable. “What?” He asked.

Allura approached him with her arms behind her back, and a thoughtful look. “I was thinking.”

He raised his eyebrows but remained silent.

“You care so much about Keith that… sometimes you forget about yourself.” She lifted her hands in front of her. “I'm not trying to reprimand you! But… your health is as important as his.”

A blush covered his pale cheeks. Allura was so caring, and it was unfair to have her just as a friend, but this thought sank down in a few moments. Focus, Takashi.

“I know… you're right. But- I took care of him for so many years that it had become a habit. It feels… natural.”

His breath was caught in his lungs when Allura suddenly reached his hand, grabbing it with affection. She looked in his eyes, smiling. “You're amazing, Shiro, seriously. But you can't always be on his side, he has to grow up. Keith knows he can ask for your help when he needs it, so… think about yourself for once.” She squeezed his hand. “You deserve it more than anyone else, because of your efforts, and your kindness, and your-”

Just a quick review of her words and Allura realized what she had said. She jerked back, dropping Shiro's hand in his lap, and tried to look indifferent, but the red on her nose betrayed her attempt.

Shiro was speechless. He locked his eyes on her, completely astonished. That girl would be the death of him.

“T-thank you Allura. It's an honor if it comes from you. I will… actually try to do that.”

Okay, they were probably high on some truth serum, because they couldn't stop to be honest about their feelings, and that had never happened before. Maybe it was because of the atmosphere? Because they were alone in a room? Because Shiro was so confused and tired that the filters in his brain had deactivated?

Friends don't act like this.

He knew that.

Could he be hopeful, just for once?

Maybe this was part of taking care of himself.

Allura secretly agreed with Pidge, Hunk, Keith, even Coran.

They couldn't be just friends.

Looking at Shiro's fond gaze towards her, hope crawled inside her mind. Maybe there was hope.

She smiled and winked. “Anytime.”

There's a chance. They both thought, with a smile on their faces as they left the classroom. Their hearts felt lighter, somehow. 

Chapter Text

Keith was staring at the keys in front of him so intensely he could have set them on fire. Therefore, when Shiro touched him on his shoulder, he almost fell from the stool, taken by surprise. He recovered with a cough and an apology, starting to play again, but the sound of the piano was oddly unsure, and that wasn't usually a part of Keith's practice.

Shiro stopped him with a hand, positioning himself at his younger brother's side. “Well?” He asked, crossing his arms on his chest.

Keith shrugged, but didn't make an excuse, like he knew it would have been useless- and it was. Shiro could read him like a book.

Eyes fixed on the instrument in front of him, Keith remained silent, waiting for the confrontation he knew would have come, sooner or later.

Honestly, he really had tried to appear normal, to play flawlessly as usual, to be just Keith. But… the room was overwhelming, heavy on his shoulders, suffocating around his body. Even if it wasn't the exact same classroom where “that” - he genuinely didn't know how to call it – had happened, it was identical: the black piano, the posters all over the walls, the stool that sometimes would creak when rotated, even the same greyish coat rack! And yes, Keith knew the professors had no proper reason to improvise themselves into the part of interior designers and buy different stuff for each classroom in search of originality and uniqueness, but- the point was, everything reminded him of that.

And “that” stood for: two awkward teenagers stare at each other's lips while trying to play “Are you sleeping?”, a children' song, after a random touch of hands.

When I think of it like this, it gets even worse. It looks like one of those ads you find everywhere on social networks. “You won't believe what had happened next!”

Shiro had interrupted them – fortunately, Keith must add – so there wasn't anything “next” to read about, clicking on the imaginary ad. Because otherwise, what could have happened?

He didn't want to know- just the thought was terrifying.

Lance was, as Pidge and Hunk had repeated a lot of times, a ladies man. This simple definition was enough for Keith to understand he didn't even have to dwell on the situation, because it was insignificant and probably a misunderstanding.

Maybe Lance was looking at something else, and not at his lips? Perhaps he was uncomfortable with the closeness of another boy and wanted to push him away to avoid his “homosexual virus”, at the same time Shiro had entered? This would explain his reaction, with all the clumsy ranting and violent blush on his cheeks… and, obviously, the panicked rush after.

So yeah, to sum it up, Keith had to follow the first rule of the Gay Bible: never flirt with a straight guy, too many problems; also, just to prevent, he had to follow a personal rule, dictated by personal experience: love sucks, don't flirt at all.

“What's wrong?”

Shiro's voice was like a cut through his worries, but also the bearer of other ones. Now he had to come up with a convincing lie in a few seconds, or the “protective and concerned big brother mode” would instantly activate. “I'm just…”

A quick look around him. An idea popped up.

He shrugged, in perfect Keith style. “I was just brooding over that, and I got distracted.” He said, pointing at the competition's poster attached to the white wall at his right. His evil plan was perfect: Shiro, after insisting a little, would always give up knowing his brother was unshakable; also, the more he pushed, the more Keith would refuse to act on something. Just the fact he had voluntarily thought about joining the competition was enough to satisfy Shiro.

In fact, pleasantly surprised, he smiled. “Oh! Okay then, no problem.” He nodded scratching his neck, eyes fixed on the floor. “I- I didn't want to… intrude in your life, you know, I'm perfectly aware of the fact you are old enough to take care of yourself and-”

Keith rapidly lifted his hands to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, hey! Shiro, stop, you're rambling. What's up with you?”

Back in his senses all of a sudden, Shiro blocked his rant and breathed a brief laugh quite unconvincing, then shook his head. “I'm sorry, I got a little carried away." He then looked around with a fade of a smirk on his lips. His next question arose a shiver through Keith's spine. “So… who convinced you to think about that again?”

There wasn't malice, nor fake curiosity that hid knowledge. Shiro was genuinely interested, so Keith felt pretty confident to say the truth- just not completely: didn't want to take the risk. Trying to be as casual as possible, he shrugged. “Lance.”

A spark of surprise crossed his brother's face for a moment, replaced so fast by a neutral expression that Keith wondered if he had imagined his first reaction. He was starting to regret his sincerity, not liking how Shiro was grinning.

“Got it. You know, he's a good guy! We chatted yesterday and it was really enjoyable.” Shiro let out a brief laugh and shook his head, recalling their conversation. “Did you know he has a gigantic family? That's crazy.”

Oh.

Shiro had talked with Lance – like normal friends do – without snags, fights, insults… it had been just “enjoyable”, and it wasn't surprising, to be honest: Lance could be pleasant all the time with everyone, except with him.

At that point Keith had to admit he was the problem in their strange friendship- but it wasn't surprising either. In some way he always succeeded to ruin relationships, so he got used to it.

Shiro knew more than him about Lance. For some reason his chest didn't like this thought, starting to hurt a little.

Keith didn't want to know if the pain was jealousy.

“Should we end here, for today?” Shiro asked, reaching the coat rack where his bag was hung.

Keith slightly nodded, frowning a little.

While he was gathering the various music sheets inside his red folder, relieved by the fact he was finally going to leave the damn classroom, Shiro opened the door, clearing his throat. “Anyway...”

Bad sign. Keith perfectly knew that approach.

He turned up, raising his eyebrows.

“Mom called yesterday. She says hi, and… asks if you're okay.”

Keith closed his eyes, trying to calm down. Another awesome news had left Shiro's lips. “I am.”

“Yeah, I know. She's just worried.” Shiro hesitated, scratching his cheek with the thumb of his prosthetic arm. “She… asked about your crisis.”

“Takashi, I swear to G-” Keith huffed and crossed his arms when Shiro promptly interrupted him like he expected this exact reaction from his little – stubborn – brother. “Keith, I said you're okay and too busy with our concerts, for which she's enthusiastic! Don't “Takashi, I swear to God” me. I just wanted to let you know, and maybe you can call her?”

He loved his parents. He perfectly understood his mother's apprehensive calls, but he couldn't bring himself to take the phone and be like “Yeah, I'm alive” like it was nothing after months of silence, even if they would have been happy to hear his voice again for sure, instantly forgiving him- which made him feel even more guilty: he, with Shiro, was the most important thing in their life, and he was neglecting this never-ending love just because of his cowardice. He just mentally couldn't.

Sometimes Keith felt like life had given him a second opportunity, and he was throwing it away due to his irrational fears.

“Maybe, yes.”

He had to work on delete the “maybe” and just act for once.

Shiro ignored the uncertainty in Keith's voice and instead appreciated his efforts. He fondly smiled and looked at him with relief. Keith could see he had loosened the grip on the bag he had hung on his shoulder. “Thanks, baby brother.”

The reprimanding "Stop it" was already on the tip of his tongue, but Keith decided to let him go this time, just because Shiro looked so thankful that he couldn't ruin his mood.

To conclude a lesson earlier than usual was a rare occasion, but judging his brother's behavior today, nothing was going to be normal. Plus, Keith was sure he looked miserable and unable to focus on the piano, so he accepted the tactical offer to just end it, glad he could go home to eat in silence in his room and then sleep all afternoon to forget his problems for at least five hours.

Not a great way to deal with things, but that day had to end quickly or he couldn't promise not to commit a homicide.

“Just to let you know- I won't… have lunch with you, today. If you don't mind.” Shiro had quickly added the last part like he had felt ashamed- and he didn't have to, since he was making Keith a favor by leaving him alone, allowing him to dwell on his bad luck, wrapped in the blankets of his bed. That, however, wasn't a good reason to ignore the blush on Shiro's face.

His brother was good at reading him, but Keith was just as good at reading Shiro's expressions. He was obvious.

“Allura, right?”

“… No...”

Keith smirked, raising his eyebrows even more.

“Okay, yes. Don't you dare, Keith.” He raised his pointing finger as a warning when Keith tried to stifle a giggle, failing.

“I didn't say anything!” Keith exclaimed with a high-pitched voice that hid a taunting laugh, while spreading his arms.

Shiro frowned at him, but the flush on his ears was so evident he just looked like an angry kitten trying to look like a lion.

He's pining like a desperate.

Adorable. And disgusting.

For once, though, he felt hypocritical. Keith couldn't exactly mock Shiro when he was in a similar position himself.

“Since I know you can't cook and I won't let you die from starving, there's a bowl of noodles in the microwave. You only have to reheat them, okay?” Shiro proceeded to explain, but his voice was followed by a loud gasp behind him. He startled, surprised, and turned up to find a shocked Hunk looking at Keith like he had grown a second head.

“You can't cook?!” He exclaimed, grasping the other boy by the shoulders. His caramel eyes were wide and… brighter?

Keith nodded, unsure of what was happening. Everyone was acting strange- maybe they were drugged. Or maybe he was just dreaming and had forgotten to set the alarm clock in the morning.

A big smile colored Hunk's face. “That's awesome!”

More confused than ever, Keith furrowed his eyebrows while slightly tilting his head. Okay, they were all drugged for sure. Perhaps he had woken up in an alternative universe where Hunk hated cooking? “Thanks… I guess...”

Shiro, bewildered as him, tried to encourage him with a little smile, not as convincing as he probably had hoped.

The two big hands at his shoulders released him, and Hunk laughed. “Sorry, let me explain. You can't cook, I can, you're alone for lunch, I have two housemates, you have to eat preheated noodles, we are eating homemade pizza. So, your answer?”

Keith slowly processed his words, but didn't reply- one: maybe he hadn't understood the 'secret message' behind them and was going to look like an idiot in front of Hunk. Two: Lance. Was he ready to see him again?

Yes, he was- more or less. Because there wasn't nothing new between them, nothing to be embarrassed for. They had already fought two times in a week and had a strange embarrassing touch of hands followed by a session of staring, but they were friends.

A… bizarre type of, but still.

Keith bit his lower lip, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.

People were difficult to understand.

“Are you... inviting me for lunch?” He muttered, unsure.

Hunk lit up and didn't hesitate to grab his hands in his. Keith still flinched a little when someone would touch him all of a sudden, but he didn't have the heart to refuse Hunk and his happiness. It was, he had to admit, a little influencing. “Then it's a yes!”

Keith opened his mouth to reply, but he was already flying, carried by the big guy; Shiro's laugh echoed in the corridors of the academy, with Keith and Hunk's as well. Some teachers and students emerged from their classrooms to find the source of the noise, and were surprised to see two teenagers sprinting in front of their eyes so fast that they almost couldn't recognize them.

While trying to keep up Hunk's pace, Keith reflected on the fact he hadn't really accepted the invite, but he hadn't refused either. The silence of his house and his warm bed were tempting, although… he felt crazy, but he wanted to go. To see people, to distract himself, to laugh, to eat in company. He wanted to make jokes with Pidge, to listen to Hunk's stories, to know Lance better.

It was incredible, but actually possible: three simple teenagers had managed to change his way of thinking in less than two weeks, just by being themselves, without efforts. Keith was incredibly obstinate, but through his life he had understood that he was easily influenced and changed by people he trusted; sometimes in a good way,- like Shiro, with his patience and his kind manners, and the Shirogane – and sometimes in bad ways, like the death of his parents, and his ex boyfriend. This process didn't happen frequently – mainly because he didn't trust many people – but when it occurred, it was a big breakthrough.

And now, basically thrown in Hunk's car, listening to all of his projects for the lunch with Shakira as a background music, he found out that he didn't really mind this sudden change of plans.

“Guys, look who's gonna join us today!” Hunk announced as soon as they walked in the apartment. Keith winced a little, suddenly remembering that the other two didn't know about his visit, so they could be annoyed- especially Lance.

They walked through a short corridor that divided the entrance from the actual apartment. There were some pictures from time to time, just to decorate the otherwise plain walls. At the end of the hallway, a door at their left took to the living room, the main one judging from its size. Hunk crossed it, careful not to trip on the pair of gray sneakers thrown in the middle of his way, that strangely looked like Lance usual shoes.

The room was wide and cozy: a blue armchair and an l-shaped couch faced an old TV cleft in a bookshelf, creating a private space that Keith imagined was used for movie nights and stuff; at his right, a square table with four chairs around it was already prepared for lunch. Red table cloth with darker flower decorations, white napkins folded in triangles… he didn't have this luxury not even when Shiro ate with him. They had really put effort on that setting… for him. Weird, but cute.

“Make yourself at home!” Hunk exclaimed, pointing at the couch.

Keith awkwardly nodded, making a bee line to the comfy zone that now looked desecrated by his presence.

That was kind of a challenge for him: he barely felt at home at his own, let alone in someone else's. The reason was unknown even by him- since the death of his parents, he had had to change houses, so the feeling of being stable in one forever had faded away with time, even though he had been adopted for many years by now, so there was no fear to be abandoned again.

And now that he lived alone with Shiro, the house was his own. He could do anything, completely free- and he did, but the “stability” element always missed.

Keith guessed that was just one of his “childish tantrums” like his teachers always said. His real mother was too patient to complain about them, but who knows what would she think of his behavior at this age… probably not good things.

Stop being an edgy boy. Have fun.

Keith forced himself to solidify that thought in his mind with a heavy sigh. The past had to stop influencing his everyday life.

His train of thoughts found an end when someone started to sing from the kitchen, accompanied by metallic clangs that probably belonged to pans and cutlery. The familiar voice acquired a body when Lance showed up, leaning on the doorstep with a rag in his hands, dirty with flour as some of his brown locks of hair- and even the tip of his nose. An apron that said “Kiss the chef” in red was tied around his waist, and Keith was almost disappointed to notice that Lance looked fucking sexy to his gay eyes wearing something so normal and… domestic.

Lance smirked and improvised a not-so-elegant bow. “Welcome to my domain, Mullet!”

Keith rolled his eyes. Apparently he had to get used to the stupid nickname soon, since Lance had decided to stick with it- even if he didn't have a mullet, for god's sake, what was wrong with this guy? What's wrong with me, considering that this guy turns me on with an apron you find at 99 cents only stores.

“Hi. Don't call me that.”

“Whatever you say.” Lance chuckled a little, sending him finger guns with a wink. “Ready to get your hands dirty?”

“Are you suggesting me to murder someone?”

“I know you're like, an edge lord or something so you're into that creepy stuff, but no, we're making pizza.”

Keith changed expression through Lance's sentence in a matter of seconds: his eyes narrowed because of the new nickname, but after hearing the last part, Keith looked confused. “We?”

Lance huffed and rolled his eyes. “Uh, duh? Did you think you were going to wait on the sofa while we worked like slaves?”

He then made a bee line towards Keith with a firm grin, making the other shot up from the couch like it had been suddenly too hot to sit on. Keith felt embarrassed for many things: one, Lance was pretty okay to handle from a certain distance, – especially if they were bickering like usual – but now he was way too close and Keith had abruptly started to remember why he had hesitated to come here in the first place- even if Lance looked unaffected by their encounter.

To be honest Keith wasn't surprised, yet he felt almost offended.

So… Lance really didn't care about that event, after all.

Two, he had managed to make a fool of himself, appearing like a lazy brat who was used to be served by minions. He had basically confirmed the first impression Lance had of him. Way to go.

An ashamed flush colored his face, and at that distance Keith was sure the other boy could even distinguish the precise shade of pink. With his hands lifted as an apology, he tried to search the right way to vocalize what he wanted to say.

“I-I didn't… I'm-”

Yes. That's how you do it.

Lance rolled his eyes and stopped him with the index finger pointed against his chest. “Shush! Don't 'I-I didn't, I'm- ' me! Like my mama says, no hay tiempo para cháchara!”

Although he knew about Lance's Cuban background, the Spanish accent was able to destabilize Keith for a moment. He shut his mouth as ordered, starting to feel definitely out of place and willing to leave before things got worse, but a second look at Lance's face made him realize that there was no annoyance, nor anger, but just an amused smirk. A third glance was interrupted when Lance put an arm around his shoulder, bringing him closer- Keith held his breath. Was this a test to see how long he could withstand before exploding for the embarrassment?

He wasn't sure he could pass.

Lance laughed and patted his shoulder. “Relax, emo boy. I'm-”

“Lance, stop bullying our guest!” Hunk reemerged from the kitchen with an apron slightly different from the other one- it didn't have the “Kiss the chef” on it, so Keith guessed it was an exclusive phrase for Lance. Not unexpected. “Sorry Keith. What Lance was trying to say is that if you want,” he glared at his friend “You can help us. It's super funny, I promise!”

The warm presence of Lance's arm left, followed by a growl.

“Sure I can, it would be a pleasure.” Keith relaxed a little and smiled at Hunk, ignoring the bizarre sensation of missing the closeness of the boy that was now crossing arms with a shy lopsided grin, looking at his direction in a fond way, almost. In the moment Keith turned towards him, however, Lance oriented his attention somewhere else, while the smile faded and was replaced by a pout. Okay, weird, but Lance was always like this so no worries, right?

When Pidge graced them with her presence, Keith was forced to put an apron as well. Lance made sure to give him a long one with the stamp of a female body in a red bikini, so he could laugh until he got teary eyes. Keith, trying to resist at the urge of killing him, asked why they had that. “It was just a gift” wasn't satisfying as a response, but he let it pass. It was probably another great purchase at the 99 cents only store.

“So, what brought you here?” Pidge asked to Keith, tying a green apron on her waist- a normal one, finally. They were all in the small kitchen around the table, covered in flour to knead the pizza dough that Lance had already started to work.

“Um, Hunk.” Noticing Lance and Pidge's confused looks, he clarified. “He discovered I can't cook and that I was going to eat preheated noodles alone because Shiro had an appointment for lunch, so… here I am.”

They all laughed, and Keith wasn't sure what was funny, but he smiled anyway. Pidge crossed her arms and leaned on the table with a knowing smirk. “With his friend Allura?”

Keith sighed, exasperated. “Don't get me started. I'm sick of Shiro's pining ass, it physically hurts.” He stopped for a moment when Hunk passed him a knife and some cheese to cut, then added: “I always tell him to just act and ask Allura out, but he's convinced she would reject him.”

Hunk gestured with his hands to agree, and Pidge had to avoid the bottle of tomato sauce he was holding, in order not to be hit in the face. “That's what we tell her, but she doesn't listen!”

Readjusting her glasses, Pidge shrugged. “They'll figure it out, eventually.”

Even though he was evidently struggling to flatten the dough with the rolling pin, Lance had enough force to tease her. “However, what brought you here, outside of your room?”

She rolled her eyes, but without real irritation, since she couldn't deny. Keith knew they were similar: they both loved the peaceful atmosphere in their room, and hardly left it to deal with the world.

“Shut up. You know I'm waiting for that call.” Pidge muttered, and a little frown spoiled her lips. She looked worried.

Keith interrupted his task. “What call?”

He nearly dropped his knife when Lance suddenly righted himself, putting one hand against his chest and the other on Pidge's shoulder, and started to declare like some sort of medieval servant: “Oh vile man, kneel in the presence of our genius gremlin who managed to charm all the teachers with her nerd powers!”

Pidge turned red for the embarrassment, trying to push his hand away. “Lance-”

“Praise be to the nerd pigeon!”

“Hunk?!”

A loud laugh erupted from Keith before he could stop it. The scene he was witnessing was ridiculous, but incredibly funny. He wondered if it was a usual thing for them, and how could he live without these silly moments. It almost felt like he belonged to that group of friends, like he wasn't just an intruder in their life.

When he raised his gaze to look at them, Lance was blushing, wide blue eyes locked on him. Just as before, the moment passed in a couple of seconds, and Lance was grinning at Pidge with an unconvincing confidence.

“It's just… a stage in a tech company for a month. Nothing too special.” Pidge finally managed to explain, rubbing a hand back and forth on her arm.

Hunk huffed. “A big tech company that can recommend you to even bigger companies. Nothing special, uh?”

She shrugged again, trying to appear neutral, but a shy smile found its way to her lips, along with the pink on her nose. Lance rolled his eyes, mostly amused, but Keith could see the hint of pride he had for Pidge. Keith felt it too, even if they weren't as close. She was like everyone's little sister.

A brief comfortable silence, filled only by the creak of the table and the metallic noises of spoons, knifes and plates, fell between them until Lance decided it was too boring to just appreciate the presence of his friends.

With one calculated move, Keith's face was covered in flour, and probably his longer locks of hair too. He had had no time to even think of dodging the shot. Lance assumed a fake innocent expression and muttered a shaky apology, made even less believable by the giggles he was trying to stifle.

Keith closed his eyes to gather all the patience left in his body.

“Black and white, uh? You're kinda vintage like this!”

That's it.

Lance was laughing so much he didn't even see Keith's next move: he grabbed the spoon that Hunk had dropped before for the surprise, noticing with pleasure it was still dirty, and with a flick of his wrist worthy of the best tennis player, the sauce was sent directly to Lance's nose, who yelped.

Keith let out a breathy laugh, locking eyes with him. “Red looks good on you.”

The expression that Lance made was priceless.

A mix of confusion, embarrassment, anger, irritation, all in one guy dirty of flour and now tomato sauce. The various layers of food, however, could not hide the prominent red that colored his tanned skin. Keith's heart missed a beat.

“Oh my god, don't even try to start these stupid games. And if you can't resist, know that Hunk and I will not clean anything.”

Pidge confiscated the spoon from Keith and pushed Lance away, taking his place in front of the dough. Even though they had wasted time throwing food, the pasta was ready to to be seasoned.

After Lance and Keith cleaned themselves in the kitchen sink – carefully monitored by Pidge to avoid another stupid bicker – they all finally managed to prepare the topping without interruptions of any kind. Hunk announced with pride that their precious pizza had been a success, and he couldn't wait to put it in the oven.

While he did that, the other three decided to relax on the couch after their hard work, excited to eat what they had made. Keith had only cut cheese and then put it on the dough, but he felt like an active part of something. Like his help had been useful.

Pidge claimed the comfy armchair as soon as they walked in the living room, so Lance and Keith had no other option than sit… together. Close to each other. Shoulders and thighs almost brushing every time one of them would move. Keith did his best to remain still, to not even breathe, almost. He instead focused on observing the apartment, noticing details that he wouldn't have seen if he hadn't been so nervous and willing to calm down. Pidge was not helping with her fidget: she continuously controlled her phone, scrolled through zero notifications, played videos on Youtube and then closed them even before the end of the intro, opened the camera to take random photos and deleted them right after; all of this while tapping her foot on the floor.

She was like a bundle of worries and anxiety, and Keith couldn't even look at her without feeling sick himself.

Lance, after a few minutes of silence, let out a long growl and slammed his hands on the cushions, making her jump, startled. Keith held back a gasp. “Pidge, you're making me uneasy. Stop checking your phone every second! You have put the ring tone, how could you miss the call?!”

Keith prepared his mind to bear an angry reaction, which never arrived. Instead, Pidge sighed and put her phone on the little table in front of them, and sat straightening her back. “I know, I'm sorry. It's just… I'm worried. What if they don't call me?”

The sincerity in her voice hit him like a truck.

She was offering her feelings like no big deal, because she trusted Lance. And Keith, or else she would have waited to talk about it after he left. They, as a group of friends, were probably used to these kind of share-your-feelings sessions, so it wasn't a surprise.

Lance, in fact, didn't flinch nor hesitate: he huffed, crossing his arms, and then shook his head. A kind smile, very different from his usual flirty or mocking ones, softened his traits and he instantly looked like a big brother.

Keith tortured his lower lip, frustrated. Shit, he's so cute.

“Pidge...” Lance started to say. His voice was sweet, comprehensive. “If not you, who? You're the most intelligent person I know. All the teachers always praised you as a child prodigy when Hunk and I were in high school, and I bet they still do.” He briefly turned towards his friend, just arrived in the living room, who smiled at Pidge. “Don't worry, okay?”

She nodded with a sheepish grin. “Yeah.”

Staring at him, Keith thought a lot of things in what felt like centuries, but were probably seconds.

Lance reminded him of Shiro: for his brotherly attitude, for the way he talked to someone younger and dear, with a soothing but decisive voice. He was used to his own siblings, nieces and nephews, so to cheer up was something easy to do when necessary. He didn't even blink before talking, he didn't have to prepare a compelling speech. Lance just… opened his mouth and let his heart talk. Like Shiro.

Keith didn't know how to do that. He was always afraid to say the wrong thing and make things worse. It didn't matter he perfectly knew how he could help, inside his head: when the words came outside his mouth, they didn't feel right. They felt fake, stupid, useless. His heart just whispered, but never talked out loud.

Did you forget about the whole “don't be an edge boy”? Stop comparing yourself with Lance. You're from different planets.

He sighed.

The list of “things to not do” kept getting longer and longer.

A clap of hands brought him back to reality.

“Alright, time to have fun! We're not going to complain all day, 'kay Pidge?!” Lance announced, standing up. The couch pillows moved a little from the lack of his weight, and Keith slightly wobbled. He already missed the warmness of his vicinity.

Hunk crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow. “What kind of fun?”

Without giving a vocal explanation, Lance disappeared from the living room for a few seconds, until he returned with Hunk and Pidge's guitars in his hands. “This kind!” He exclaimed while proudly posing with a smirk.

Keith was more confused than before, so he turned towards the other two, hoping to see the same reaction. Unfortunately, they looked happy and ready to take their instruments, so he came to the conclusion that this was one of their multiple apartment traditions he couldn't understand: maybe they just… played together? But Lance couldn't play any instrument, right?

His face was probably twisted in a visible stupid face, because Hunk raised his guitar and proceeded to quickly inform him. “Sometimes we like to play our favorite songs while Lance sings and dances… it's fun, if you want to join.”

Lance can sing and dance? Oh my god. I'm screwed.

Keith prayed with all the hope in his body that he sucked and only liked to put on a show and make his friends laugh, because otherwise he had to leave right in that moment. Sexy hips movements? Voice of an angel? No, thanks.

In spite of his prayers, he knew Lance had Cuban blood, unfortunately, so there was a super high possibility that dance was in his genes. Plus, just hearing his warm voice while he talked, Keith had always had the impression he was “singing” in his ears.

Therefore he reluctantly accepted his destiny, – thanked his ability to keep a straight face while going through hell – and nodded at Hunk with a smile that was maybe a little too stretched to be completely compelling.

As if he was waiting to hear Keith's reply, Lance instantly straightened his back, more excited than before. Then he proceeded to position himself in the center of the little private space, after moving aside the table so he could have enough dance area. Keith honestly didn't know what to expect at this point.

He turned with his back towards them, giving a perfect view of his ass in the tight jeans he always wore. “Hunk, Pidge, hit it.”

Keith struggled to keep his eyes fixed on Lance's head, though it became nearly impossible when the tanned boy began to move his hips on the beat of Hunk's guitar- how did he know what song Lance was thinking? This was the final proof that these performances were not new in their house.

A desperate mantra of “don't look, don't look, don't look” started to repeat and echo in his mind, obtaining poor results, since he gave up almost immediately to take a self-indulgent peek- not unsatisfactory, to say the least.

The intro of the song that Hunk was playing had something familiar, but Keith wasn't able to recognize it. The beat was fast and steady, and sometimes Hunk kept time with a quick knock on the guitar's wood. Pidge was rocking her head with her eyes closed, the green electric guitar on her lap ready to be used.

Hunk gave a last hit at the strings, more powerful than the others, and at that exact moment Lance turned towards them with one open hand in the air and the other on his hip, slightly tilted, and a sensual smirk on his face. His blue eyes were locked on Keith.

A pause that endured for an eternity in his mind, but was probably too short to even really exist.

“Baby, can't you see.”

Keith nearly fell off the couch. He heard a puff from Pidge.

“Are you ser-” He tried to ask nearly shouting, but Hunk restarted to play and Lance to sing. They all had an amused grin on their face, and Keith couldn't believe it was really happening. This day had to be added on the list of the most strange ones in his life, because it seemed like all the bizarre events had been grouped together to make him go crazy.

“I'm calling.”

The fact that Keith had recognized the song as soon as it had started was outrageous.

“A guy like you should wear a warning. It's dangerous.”

The fact that Lance was singing these words while looking directly in his eyes was even more outrageous.

“I'm falling.”

Keith was falling too.

His voice was low and completely different from the original, but this didn't mean it was less sexy. On the contrary. Keith had never liked Britney Spears's voice nor her songs, but for some reasons, listening to Lance's version of Toxic, he felt like he might start to.

During the second verse the dancing boy began to move around the space, waving his arms back and forth while swinging his hips in a circular motion. Sometimes a laugh made him break the character, but other than that his Britney knockoff was on point.

That was… interesting.

Keith wondered how many times Lance had practiced.

“Too high, can't come down,” He took some steps to the right, then to the left. “Losin' my head, spinnin' round and round,” He rotated his index finger while singing, along with his head. It looked like a choreography, and honestly Keith wouldn't be surprised to find out it was. “Do you feel me now?” He lifted his chin, smirking.

As the chorus began, Pidge joined the impromptu band, making the background music while Hunk followed Lance's words.

Did they perfectly know what to do and when?! They had exercised before, no doubt. Keith would have laughed if he hadn't been too busy looking at Lance while, with all the grace possible, he lowered his back and spaced his long legs.

“Oh, the taste of your lips I'm on a ride. You're toxic I'm slippin' under!” He touched the ground with a hand just for a moment before jumping and spinning at the same time he screamed “toxic” at the top of his lungs, like it was the most emotional word he could say. “With a taste of a poison paradise!”

He leaped, then closed and opened his legs again, slightly bending them. “ I 'm addicted to you...”  With both of his hands raised at the height of his shoulders he pointed at Keith, who didn't have enough time to react because Lance was already making another move: after turning again to face the TV behind him, with no hesitation whatsoever he threw himself on his knees, arching his back, legs a bit parted. His chin was held high, the long neck on display, almost asking to be kissed… or bit.

It was so unexpected that Keith had the impulse to lean forward and help him, but he couldn't.

His body was completely captured by the vision.

Lance slowly dragged his hands from his chest to his neck, clutching it as if he was suffocating.  “ D on't you know that you're toxic? ”

Keith didn't want to know if his eyes could widen more than that, because there was a risk they could fall from his ocular orbits. His lower lip was screaming for the pain, but he wasn't able to stop his teeth from chewing it. He wasn't even sure he was properly breathing, or if he still had a normal skin color. At least he was pretty sure he looked paler and not completely red, since all his blood was concentrated in  other parts  of his body.

Lance lay down on his side, sustaining his head with an arm folded; he extended one leg, while the other was thrown in the air like no big deal. It was highly possible that he could do a perfect split, and Keith had the sudden urge to see it. “ And I love what you do, don't you know that you're toxic? ”

The electric guitar abruptly stopped, replaced by a loud laugh. Keith felt like awoken from a dream.

Pidge shook her head along with a hand, lightly trembling. “I-I'm sorry, but this was so  extra ! Lance, you're impossible!”

Hunk joined her, putting aside his instrument. “Definitely! C'mon, let's change song, I don't want Keith to be too bored.”

Keith flinched hearing his name, but managed to smile and shake his head. Words were too risky for now, since his voice could get out like a strangled squeak. He crossed his legs, just in case someone wanted to get noticed in improper moments.

Pidge nodded. “I could see the death in his eyes.”

It's not exactly death, but- … whatever.

Lance stood up from the pavement with a huff, brushing his jeans to clean them from the dust. He put both hands on his hips, and glanced at Keith with a defiant look. “So you're bored, uh?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, bemused. He was the opposite of bored, but… thank goodness no one had noticed it. “Um, no-”

The response got stuck in his throat due to the sudden touch of a tanned hand grabbing his own. Not even the time to react, he was standing at the center of the improvised stage, whose owner had a shit-eating grin as though he was already savoring the success of his evil plan. A shiver made its way through Keith's spine.

Perhaps he had still time to sit down and refuse…

Nope. Never mind.

Lance had just given a signal to his personal musicians, as if they knew what- fuck, Keith wasn't going to discuss it again. Of course they knew what song he wanted them to play. But this next was a good question: why the hell was he standing there?

He didn't like Lance's reply as the song began with Hunk vigorously scratching the strings, the other fingers moving fast from a fret wire to the other: one moment he was there, at Keith's side, the next he wasn't anymore. And that was because Lance reappeared behind him, grasping both of his wrists in order to force him to raise his arms in the air.

Then he screamed, his head popping up at the height of Keith's shoulder, nearly deafening him: “Now put your hands up!”

Now all was clear.

Lance wanted to make him dance.

Keith almost lost balance when, with a strong tug towards Lance who now was holding only his left wrist, he was forced to twirl like some sort of shaky grumpy ballerina. The other boy looked totally unaffected by the sudden movements; in fact, he was just laughing his ass off while trying to sing the lyrics in time with the music. “Up in the club, just broke up, I'm doing my own little thing- man you're hilarious! - You decided to dip and now you wanna trip, 'cause another brother noticed me...”

He would have taken his secret in his grave rather than admitting it, but… Keith knew the choreography of Single Ladies like he knew his own name. He remembered that Shiro and him would always dance it when their parents weren't home, with the music so loud that sometimes their neighbors would complain for the noise. But their laughs were so high they couldn't stop to listen and care about adults.

Their little bubble of happiness couldn't be burst by someone else's negativity. Keith didn't allow that, and neither Shiro.

Having said that, there was no way he would dance it in front of Hunk, Pidge and Lance. No fucking way.

But the last had other plans. He yanked Keith around the space, with an arm on his own hip and his knees bent, “I'm up on him, he up on me, don't pay him any attention,” He kicked the air and then came to a stop in the center again. Keith pretended to be oblivious, but was prepared when Lance's hands took his elbows to fold his arms above his head. “'Cause I cried my tears for three good years, you can't be mad at me!”

Maaaybe just a bit less prepared for Lance's shaking butt bumping against his hip as an invitation to dance. He had reemerged from behind Keith with his same position, to look like Beyoncé and the women in the original choreography. Keith had no trace of doubt about who Lance wanted to be of the three performers…

“C'mon Keithy, I know you can dance!” He managed to say before the chorus started. At that moment, Pidge stepped in to add depth with some notes from time to time. “'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it, if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it- or you're scared?” He was slightly out of breath, but that didn't stop him from doing the infamous dance moves – a little rotation with both arms, index finger repeatedly pointed at his other one as though he had a ring – and simultaneously throw a challenge to Keith, that was standing still even if his whole body was itching, willing to imitate Lance.

The teasing smirk and the mocking tone was too much to handle.

Keith looked like a useless dancing pole in the middle of the stage, while that annoying kid was making fun of him.

Okay. Screw his dignity.

“Don't be mad once you see that he want it- if… uh...”

Keith would have loved to see the incredulous expression on Lance's face, but was too busy tapping his foot on the floor with the beat of Hunk and Pidge's guitars, slapping his thigh with one hand while the other was put through his hair. Singing out loud was too much even in this situation, yet the temptation of lip sync was irresistible.

Pidge was wheezing so badly that she missed some notes. “Oh my god! NO WAY!”

Hunk burst out laughing with wide eyes, the guitar lightly trembling in his hands while he tried to keep up the pace. And maybe this slowdown could be in Keith's favor, giving him just a brief moment to look at Lance. Was it extremely satisfying to give him a taste of his own medicine, throwing a jeering smirk in his direction, raised eyebrows and malicious eyes, while bending his torso and moving both arms up and down, mouthing “Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh” in his face as if it was the most offensive thing he could have said to him?

Perhaps.

But just a little, because… Keith wasn't that evil.

…Right?

The outraged grimace on Lance's face said otherwise.

If he could have talked, probably he would have said something like “It's on, Mullet!”. But the music was still there, therefore he couldn't waste time with direct replies: instead, determined eyes never leaving Keith, Lance started to turn his hands in front of his own chest, singing as loud as he could the infinite “oh”s.

Keith could finally explain his strange day: he had definitely woken up in a musical.

The ridiculous expression of Lance, Hunk and Pidge's laughs, their stupid dance challenge… Keith didn't realize he was laughing until he saw Lance's surprised face, which changed almost immediately. A soft blush, eyes peeled, a smirk slowly making his way, and suddenly he was sniggering too.

All the thirst for revenge was gone.

The desire of making a spectacle of himself, however, was still there for Keith. And it wasn't powered by the fact that Lance was looking at him in a tender way, with his cheeks red and a silly smile… why would it be? Whatever, let him live.

“'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it, if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it...” They were singing together now, but he could hear Lance's wonky tone as Keith separated and bended his legs, starting to rotate his pelvis with his arms behind to maintain the balance. He knew he wasn't even remotely sexy as Beyoncé was, but he was having so much fun he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Lance imitated him, but seemed more invested in staring Keith- who certainly didn't feel butterflies in his stomach. They shared an amused grin, ready for the next move. “Don't be mad once you see that he want it, if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it!” They both stoop folding a knee, using a foot to sustain their body while extending the other leg at their side. Always looking at each other, they both strongly nodded before closing their legs, leaning on the heels of their feet. Keith was about to stand again and continue to dance, but Lance was faster: he got up in a moment, reaching out his hands towards Keith, as though he wanted to help him… but it was strange, they were still dancing? Or did he want to stop?

Keith, a bit confused – and disappointed, but let's not talk about this – accepted the offer, taking his hands. It was difficult to ignore the jolt he felt from the touch, soft, warm tanned skin against his like it was meant to be since forever, but not as difficult as figure out what was happening before landing into Lance's chest, who had pulled his hands to get him up. Keith shot him a surprised glance widening his eyes, hoping that his probably super red face wasn't too noticeable – although they were close and… okay, Lance had definitely noticed, but decided to ignore it for his sake – but he just smiled, confident, and continued to sing the lyrics as he guided Keith to make another twirl. This time, though, Keith rolled with it, a laugh escaping from his lips.

“I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips, got me tighter than my Dereon jeans”

Their fingers were intertwined as they danced facing each other.

“Acting up, drink in my cup, I can care less what you think”

Keith was trying to sing, but he couldn't stifle his giggles looking at Lance making silly faces and exaggerated expressions. 
“I need no permission, did I mention? Don't pay him any attention!” Lance slightly distanced himself, letting go one of his hands, and leaned on Keith to raise a leg on the air. That was the second time in a day – and in his life, to be honest – that Keith had the urge to see someone make a split. To see Lance.

The music was suddenly disturbed by another one, louder and somehow… more “metallic”. At first no one noticed, so they continued with no worries; Lance was holding just one of his hands, both of their arms fully extended, still too far away from him – for his liking – so Keith span on himself to reach the other boy. He felt him flinch, dumbfounded by the abrupt move, but recovered immediately, shooting him a lopsided smirk.

“'Cause you had your turn, but now you gon' learn...”

The mysterious song on the background was still there. It seemed like one of those obnoxious pre-installed ring tones… oh. Oh!

“Pidge, your phone! Your phone!!” Hunk threw away his guitar screaming, second-thinking his action a few seconds after- it had landed on the couch's pillows, fortunately. He took the time to breathe a sigh of relief, and then the joyfulness returned as strong as before. “Pidge!!!”

The girl waved him off, but she was excited too. “I know, I know!” She run towards the table in the corner, with trembling legs and hands, looking like a newborn deer. She took her phone and nearly dropped it when she read the number on it, but quickly tapped the green button to answer. “Y-yes?”

In the silence, while on the other end the caller was talking, Keith and Lance were still tangled up, both looking at Pidge with hopeful eyes. This, before realizing their position and freak the fuck out. Or at least Keith, who tried almost immediately to free himself and possibly erase his existence from the face of the Earth. Lance, on the other hand, let out a silent laugh and with one of the most mischievous yet beautiful smiles that made Keith wonder once again with what courage he had accepted Hunk's offer to come, he sang in a whisper “What it really feels like to miss me...” and then dropped him in a not-so-graceful casquet, stifling a laugh. Keith ridiculously goggled his eyes- for a moment he thought Lance would let him fall on the floor. Instead, they were just looking at each other, their noses only some centimeters apart… perhaps he would have preferred to fall down. It would have been less painful than the fall his heart was victim of.

First rule of the Gay Bible: don't flirt with a straight guy. Do I have to repeat myself every time?

Lance sucked in a breath before raising him up with a sheepish smile. And again, that stupid blush… Ugh. This guy.

But he couldn't blame him.

Maybe Keith had showed his bedroom eyes a little too much than intended, scaring and possibly disgusting him?

“Yes… September, right? Sure, I will- of course! No no, thanks to you for this opportunity… okay, thanks again, bye!”

Click.

Pidge stood still, facing the wall.

The other three waited in silence, not daring to talk.

Then she turned.

A big smile was decorating her face. “I'm in.”

Hunk flew from the couch in record time, running towards Pidge to reach her as soon as possible. She was lifted from the ground like no big deal, her feet dangling while the big guy crushed her in one of his mortal hugs. “I don't wanna cry- too late, I'm already crying!” He exclaimed through the sniffles, some tears had already formed in his eyes as he was talking. Pidge returned the hug, laughing and trying to calm down his friend with kind words, but the emotions were showing in her voice too.

Lance was the second to hug Pidge. He squeezed her into his arms, not as strongly as Hunk, but still vigorously enough to lift her a few centimeters from the floor. By the time he put her down a ruffle through her hair couldn't miss, as the complaining growl right after that always followed this tease. But maybe this one was more affectionate than usual, lacking of annoyance.

Keith wasn't a touchy person, everyone knew, but he wanted to express his pride to Pidge, in his way. So he stretched out a fist that she promptly bumped with a smirk, and then he muttered: “Congratulations, Katie. You deserve it.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Oh my god, I sound like my brother...”

Pidge huffed, nodding. “ You do sound like your brother.” She replied, sharing a tender smile with Keith. “But thanks, nerd.”

The screen of Keith's phone lit up, indicating a notification. He reached the table of the kitchen, shooting a quick look to the oven – a few minutes left for the pizza to be ready… good, he was hungry – and then took his phone to see who was searching him. Maybe Shiro? Nah, he was busy. Ugh, too many gross images, stop right there…

As he was unlocking the phone, he heard Pidge gasping with excitement, so he turned again towards the living room. “I have to call Matt! He has to know!” She screamed, jumping up and down.

If Keith remembered correctly, Matt was Pidge's brother. She had named him before, most of the times to grumble about their fights for the computer, or the fact that sometimes he was more bitchy and sarcastic than her. Keith had always wanted to meet the legend capable to exceed Pidge's skills.

“I'll be right back!” She announced, closing the door of her room.

Keith forgot about his phone – they could wait, whoever they were – when Lance, throwing himself on the couch as though he had been working like a slave until then, exclaimed: “Man, that was awesome! I mean, our dance! Right, Keith?!”

He shrugged, but his smile couldn't be suppressed. Awesome was a good word to describe it… although he had some other ones that would fit better, in his opinion. “I guess, yeah.”

Lance happily nodded, spreading his arms on the edges of the sofa. Hunk joined him, sitting like a normal person, and looked at the door of Pidge's room. “Can you believe she'll work in a big tech company, and we still have doubts about college?”

Oh no. The direction that this conversation was taking was scary. Maybe a distraction would be effective… why was it so difficult to think about other arguments?!

Lance pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have made my decision, thank you very much.”

The pizza? The weather? World's problems? TV shows? What did normal teenagers talk about?

“So, astronomy?” Hunk asked, though his question sounded rhetorical.

Lance lifted his chin, closed eyes and a pride grin stretched on his lips. “Yep.” He made sure to mark the 'p'.

Keith suddenly stopped his train of thoughts. Did he hear that right? Astronomy? Lance… wanted to go to that kind of college? It wasn't like he believed he was stupid or not enough skilled to attend it, but… he didn't look like someone who liked Physics, Maths, all that kind of impossible stuff to understand – at least, for Keith. It was really impressive to discover this part of Lance.

Since he was little, Keith had always loved stars, galaxies, planets, black holes. He would look at the window for hours, in the evening, praying that one day he would be able to reach them and fly away from the world. To be free like the stars were. But he hated the boring part of calculations and statistics- obviously a big portion of astronomy that he couldn't avoid, so he preferred to just imagine and making his own theories.

Instead, Lance could, to the point he wanted to attend a college entirely about those difficult things.

But, that meant he had had to start from somewhere, right?

Maybe from the window of his own home, looking at the little white points in the blue sky of the night, hoping to fly away with them and see what they saw everyday since centuries.

Maybe… Lance wasn't that different from him.

“I would like to attend a culinary one, but… I don't- I don't know.” Hunk scratched the back of his neck, looking unsure. This choice wasn't unexpected, and honestly Keith thought it was the perfect one: Hunk loved cooking, he couldn't waste his precious abilities just for a lack of confidence. Although… Keith couldn't exactly talk.

Lance stroked his friend's shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Buddy… that's your dream. Don't be afraid, just take the challenge and go for it, okay? I know you can do it.” The smile turned into a mocking grin in zero seconds. “Plus, Shay wants to go too, right?”

The other boy gasped. His dark skin was now red while he slapped his hands on his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Lance!”

Ah, Shay. Who was Shay? Perfect question to ask to change the argument and avoid- “And you, Keith?”

Exactly. That question.

No, wait, what?

Keith jerked his head up abruptly, blinking his eyes a few times. Lance and Hunk were staring him, waiting for his answer to a question that he was desperately trying to avert.

And now, what could he do? Come up with a lie?

It was going to be difficult to manage it, since… at the start of the semester he had to go at a college, hypothetically.

But… it wasn't going to happen.

He imagined their faces, confused, after finding out that Keith hadn't signed up in any college even if he had said he would.

It was lame and embarrassing to say, but- he had to be honest.

He took a deep breath. “I'm not going.” Easy and painless.

Although it wasn't easy, and highly painful.

What would they think of him, now? A stupid boy that doesn't even have the guts to go to a college. Lance had more reasons to make fun of him, especially since he wanted to attend a difficult one, proof that he was so much more intelligent and determined on his future than him.

While Keith… didn't even know if he had a future.

They glanced at him, a little astonished, but it was Lance that dared to ask. “What? You won't go to college?” His voice wasn't mocking… just genuinely curios. Keith relaxed a tiny bit, glad to find a neutral response instead of a negative one, yet his anxiety didn't leave his stomach that simply.

The sentence formed in his head, then it disappeared, then it changed, and then it vanished again in a few seconds. Keith couldn't reach the right answer- they all sounded too miserable.

He opened his mouth, hoping that his brain would automatically activate from the action to give a sensible reply, but he closed it right after. In that moment, the sound of a door opening became Keith's favorite sound in the world. He was safe, for today.

“Um, he's not answering?” Pidge frowned with her eyebrows furrowed, looking down to her phone like it could give her a proper justification for Matt's radio silence. “Maybe he's busy… although… usually he's not, at this time.”

She sat down on the couch between Lance and Hunk with a pout, the phone still in her hand. The latter of her friends patted her shoulder like he would always do to reassure someone, and said: “Don't worry Pidge, I'm sure he just forgot his phone somewhere like he did one month ago. You remember? In that bar.”

They all snorted, unless Keith who didn't have idea of what he was talking about, but he guessed it was one of their nights he couldn't even dream to be part of.

Or perhaps now he could- why didn't a guide for friendships exist? He would have bought, like, thirty copies of that.

“Yeah, I guess- oh, wait! He's calling me! That asshole.” Pidge's eyes were already shining. She looked relieved, in spite of the insults she had just thrown against Matt. Brotherly love worked like that, Keith could understand it.

She hit the replay button with a smirk. “Oh, glad you remembered you have a-” She paused and her expression turned in a worried frown. The other three leaned towards her, alarmed. “… mom?”

It was just a whisper, but they heard it.

Keith heard it along with his heart beating faster than before, loud in his ears. The silence weighted on them, as Pidge stared a casual point in front of her with her mouth slightly parted.

The weak voice of her mom through the phone was the only noise, until Pidge spoke again. “Oh.” She nodded, “Okay. See you later.”

Lance swallowed, straining his lips with a distressed look, unsure if he could talk to her or not. “Pidge?” He tried, her name sounded almost like a breath- very unlikely for him and his loud tone.

She lowered her head, eyes locked on her lap. Her need to fidget had returned stronger than before, now vented on the skin around her short nails. “Guys… can you- can you take me to the hospital? My parents and Matt… are there.”

Keith and Shiro didn't allow other people to burst their bubble of happiness. They had always fought against all their problems – when the neighbors had knocked on their door because of the annoying noises and their parents had punished them for a day, when Shiro had started to bleed from his nose for several minutes and Keith had cried like a desperate because he had thought his brother was dying, when their first hamster had died after two years – in order to maintain the integrity of their bubble.

Despite this, sometimes life had other plans that didn't depend from them or from how much they committed.

Sometimes external factors like neighbors couldn't be stopped from intervening.

Like when Shiro had lost his arm in an incident and risked to never play the piano again.

When Keith had had his first and then second crisis.

Their bubble had trembled and, at some point, it had burst.

They had managed to recreate it, but… it wasn't the same. Maybe it was never going to be the same anymore, because life went on and on, without a pause. Without waiting for them.

So… he desperately hoped that this new bubble around Lance, Pidge, Hunk and him that had been created with stupid songs and a pizza of unknown taste, was stronger than life.

Stronger than those neighbors.

“So you were saying, – sugar? - Greg called you!”

Shiro nodded and quickly rotated the little spoon in the coffee. One sugar, or it was too sweet- Keith liked it with three. Ugh, every time they drank coffee together Shiro had to look away from his brother, or else he could have puked. It was not coffee with sugar, it was sugar with a bit of coffee, case closed.

“Yes! He wanted to know if we're free this Saturday.” He took a sip and hummed with pleasure. What was better than a coffee after a lunch made by Allura? “And obviously I said yes.”

Allura sat on the chair in front of him with a proud smile, nodding with interest. She put a saucer in the center of the round white table, pointing at the chocolate biscuits inside as an offer. Shiro would have loved to try them, but his stomach was already complaining for the excessive food he had eaten, so he politely refused. “Would you like to play the violin this time?”

The coffee cups clinked as they both lowered them after a drink. Allura raised her eyes as though she was thinking about it, but then she giggled, waving a hand. “Of course, you don't even have to ask. It looked really fun!”

Her house was really pretty and perfectly resembled her appearance and character. You could look at any object around you, and that would have screamed “Allura”- from the cat-shaped grandfather clock that softly ticked on the coral pink wall, to the cream-colored sofa with various strawberry pillows on it. She loved photography, a passion that you could easily assume from the infinite frames all over the house: with her parents, with Coran, with the students, with Keith and Shiro, with just Shiro – he particularly liked this one, even if he had snow on his nose from a snow battle during winter and Allura was laughing pointing at him – and the most recent one, with Hunk and Pidge. Her favorites were displayed on the shelf of the fireplace- just looking at it, Shiro felt sweaty.

Every time he had been there, with Keith or not, he had always felt lighter, calmer. This house had a soothing aura that most of the time his own lacked of- maybe it was the choice of pastel colors, the vintage decorations, the happy frames… or maybe even the presence of Allura. And that was strange to say, since Shiro never felt totally confident when he was with her, but… that depended on the fact that he had a liiiiittle crush on her.

“Imagine how many people will come to see a celebrity.” Shiro teased receiving a nudge on his arm from Allura, who rolled her eyes with a stretched smile of fake annoyance.

“Shut up. I'm not… that famous.” The blush on her cheeks always complemented her dark beautiful skin.

Stop staring, you weirdo…

Before he could over-think, he reached her hand with his and squeezed it lightly. She raised her eyes and looked at Shiro, who had a tender expression. “You don't have to be famous to be awesome, for me.” He muttered absent-mindedly.

Those words… were not exactly planned to be said out loud. But- Allura was in front of him, with her usual modesty that didn't fit her because she was amazing, extraordinary, super talented, so she had the right to knowledge her skills.

She deserved to hear appreciations, even if from Shiro whose opinion, to be honest, didn't count so much when there were definitely other people more important than him, to Allura.

Oh my god. He was pining so hard.

Keith was actually right?! … unbelievable.

Allura flinched and widen her eyes, the red heat increasing suddenly. She blinked a few times before looking down to the table, their hands, and then Shiro again. Her voice got out like a squeak at first, so she coughed to fix it. “I- um… Thank you...”

He nodded and removed his hand from hers, but it got caught by her abrupt grip. Shiro snapped his head up to see a frustrated Allura searching for words.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat.

“Y-you too! You're awesome too!” She blurted out, and then shook her head furrowing her eyebrows, like she had just realized what she had said. “But… you already know that, I'm sorry. And I already said that to you... I'm making no sense, right?” She let out a brief laugh, not quite convincing.

Shiro huffed, “It's always nice to hear those things from you...” he said, timidly scratching his cheek, “We always end up complimenting each other. Dorks.”

Finally, a genuine laugh erupted from Allura's lips. One of his favorite sounds to hear, especially when it was because of him.

He joined her, relieved from the weight of those blue eyes, worried and almost shameful.

A clink between them while Allura took the two coffee mugs from the table to put them in the kitchen sink. “Yeah… we are.”

Shiro wondered how it was going for Keith, in the meantime.

He hoped he wasn't too uncomfortable with Lance, Pidge and Hunk, although he knew they were funny people able to involve even his little brother after sometime.

Um… probably Keith was on the couch, silently listening to their conversations, making a comment from time to time. Typical.

Lance loved dancing.

It was funny, liberating, a way to just forget about his own problems, his worries. A way to just disconnect his brain and let his legs work and talk for him. Dance was a language where he could express the words he couldn't say with his voice.

He had a lot of insecurities about himself and his abilities, but with dancing he would always try to think otherwise: he was good at it. His brain could just go off and leave him with his dance moves that he and his siblings had studied better than the actual school subjects where they were weak- mama was so mad when Lance had wasted an entire afternoon trying the choreography of a Shakira's song instead of preparing for an important test he would have had to take the day after… but after seeing the good grade he had managed to obtain – honestly, even he didn't know how – and the result of his efforts with the dance, mama had smiled and ruffled his hair. Not to mention their parents' faces when all the siblings together had prepared a special performance to show at the big Christmas dinner with all the McClains! Hilarious. Papa had dropped his spoon, his jaw nearly following it right after.

After moving to Altea, the opportunity to dance with someone else rarely presented: when his siblings visited him they could just stay there for some hours, and if they stayed for the night they were usually too tired to dance, except some infrequent occasions.

And then Keith had abruptly appeared with his stupid mullet and his frustrating sexy moves dancing to Single Ladies- that motherfucker knew the exact choreography! He couldn't believe that even if he had just witnessed it… and really well.

Almost too much.

Had Hunk and Pidge noticed his hungry eyes while Keith was shaking his butt and he was staring a little too intensely? He hoped not, or else he would have to handle a full session of mocking and dirty jokes- and if Pidge was feeling particularly inspired, maybe even a song about him and Keith kissing under a tree.

How could they blame him, though?

Um, hello, a handsome boy had just danced like Beyoncé, rotating his hips, shaking his butt and even made a twirl while holding his hands, fingers intertwined included?!

And not just a casual boy. Keith. The “perpetually pouting and ready to fight anyone” emo guy. He fucking knew the choreography of Single Ladies and he had danced it flawlessly.

It was a miracle Lance had managed to hide a boner just looking at him- biochemical events, blood flow… it was a natural reaction, okay? Just- a natural reaction to Keith- okay, that sounded worse than before. Point is, that guy never stopped to amaze him.

The heart-warming smiles were directed towards Lance, and no one else. That silly laugh where his nose wrinkled a bit and one of his eyes was more closed than the other, caused by a stupid move Lance had done just to actually hear it.

To wallow in knowing Keith's giggles were because of him.

Maybe it was exaggerated, but… Lance hadn't feel that happy and free in a while. And this surprised him too, due to the fact he had been stressed all day just for their proximity- no, even worse… his anxiety had reached its maximum levels as soon as Keith had walked in his apartment. The image of their “almost-kiss” – even if… in fact it really wasn't, but he hadn't been able to find a better name yet – had made its way in his mind like a direct slap on the face, and no matter how hard he had tried to get rid of it, the scene had stubbornly continued to repeat. Therefore, there had been two options in front of him on how to act: the first was to freak out, stutter and continuously blush every time they were too close to each other. Not so convenient, if you asked him.

The other one, his obvious choice: to play it cool and pretend their “bonding moment” never existed. Almost-kiss while playing the piano? Nope, don't remember, didn't happen.

It wasn't going to be that difficult, since there was a high probability Keith didn't struggle as much as he did- it probably didn't mean nothing to him.

In spite of his worries and the continuous memories of the day before, Lance had really managed to turn off his brain once again, like he would always do back home with his siblings- and perhaps a little too much, self-indulging in “casual touches” attributed at the type of dance they were making, taking advantage of it to feel Keith's hands in his, their fingers intertwined.

It felt perfect.

Tanned skin against pale skin. They looked completely opposite, but somehow perfect together. He wasn't sure if he had to regret his action or jealously treasure this fact like a precious secret just for himself, knowing that nothing was never going to happen.

Regret… hurt. A lot.

Especially when the reality was there, in front of his eyes, as he looked down at the seats of the car where his and Keith's hands were leaning, close but apart from each other.

Close, but not touching. Like it was always going to be.

Lance wondered if it would have been better to not know how good their joined hands looked.

“Um, Holt? Matt Holt? I'm his sister.”

Altea's hospital was huge, scary, white and… like all other hospitals were. Exactly the same. The infinite corridors, only interrupted rhythmically by the doors of the bedrooms, were so many that Lance couldn't count them- did they all were useful? All of them had a purpose for something?

Hunk tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. The – uhh, really pretty, well hi gorgeous – nurse at the counter had explained to Pidge where Matt was, warning them about the hospital's policy: to avoid gridlocks and slowdowns in the work of the nurses, they couldn't stay for too long since he had been put in a shared room with other people. Pidge had nodded and started to walk fast, and Hunk had to physically restrain her in order to avert incidents with other visitors. She was looking straight in front of her, but Lance wasn't sure she was really seeing anything apart from her aim. Pidge acted like a careless sister sometimes, but she loved Matt, and the thought of him getting hurt was torturing her as though it had been her fault. It wasn't an emergency for sure, or he would have had a private room and an operation as soon as possible, plus his parents would have called her immediately, so more or less they were all calm- except for Pidge, obviously. Lance would have reacted like her if one of his siblings had been in the hospital, no doubt. And knowing Matt, he really hoped everything was okay: they had been friends for many years, since Pidge had introduced him to Hunk and Lance. In fact, they shared a lot of passions, such as bad puns and memes. Pidge always said she regretted to be the responsible of the start of this strange friendship, especially when they would go out together spending most of the night looking at their phones to share new memes and funny videos, constantly screaming “me”, “same” and “mood”.

Speaking of, did he have some new stuff to show Matt? That would be perfect to cheer him up. Memes were the best medicine.

“Why are you laughing to yourself?” Hunk muttered, nudging him with his elbow. “Stop it, you're creepy!”

Lance faked a cough and shook his head. “Uh, nothing.”

Yeah, maybe from outside a guy laughing while walking in the corridors of a hospital was a bit creepy.

Room 245 appeared at their left after some minutes and too many stairs, and finally they stopped in front of it. Pidge took a deep breath and reached the handle of the door, but stopped when Keith stuttered, trying to get her attention. “A-are...”

He fidgeted with his black gloves – Lance really liked them, but at the same time he thanked the fact that Keith had had to take them off for the pizza, so he had been able to feel his soft skin and not the rough fabric – looking down the floor with a pout.

Stop being so cute, goddammit!

“Are you sure you want me to enter? I'm- I'm a stranger.” Keith finally muttered, the embarrassment audible in his question. He looked so… vulnerable. Lance almost had the impulse to reach some of his rebel locks to put them behind his ear.

Pidge shook her head and smiled at him, fondly. She put a hand on his shoulder, “You're not.” They shared a direct glance, “You're my friend, and I want you to meet Matt.”

Keith nodded, appearing more relaxed already. Did he still have doubts about his friendship with Hunk and Pidge? Lance could understand if those uncertainties were on their own, but Keith knew those two since last year… It was- strange? But also comprehensible coming from an almost fully devoid of self-confidence boy who winced at the minimum touch.

The conversation with Shiro shortly replayed into his mind. Maybe Keith was afraid to be abandoned again, therefore before trusting someone completely and risking to lose them later he needed to be a hundred percent sure they cared about him enough to consider him a friend? And maybe, he didn't open a lot with other people to prevent the possibility they could decide to leave him, so he could leave before being too attached?

Okay… “maybe” you can just mind your own business instead of trying to be a psychologist.

The door finally opened, and a large room full of beds and patients welcomed them. They were all talking to their relatives, not extremely injured or in need of instant medications – some of them had a bandage around their hand, some other were describing the pain in their leg – except for one, who was idly scrolling through his notifications on his phone with a neutral expression, his glasses reflecting Instagram's main page. His other arm was folded in a sling secured to his neck.

Pidge made an impressively quick bee line towards her brother as soon as she saw him. He heard her heavy steps and raised his head with a lopsided smirk, laying down his phone to wave his hand- but the greeting was interrupted by a punch on his good shoulder, causing him to yelp, surprised. “What the-”

“YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME, ASSHOLE!” Pidge hissed, shaking her hand still clenched in a fist. A nurse winced and politely asked her to lower her voice to not disturb the other patients, followed by Hunk and Lance that reached the bed to hold back the beast, who was now letting out a long breath. “Don't ever do that again, you hear me?” She whispered, calmer this time.

Matt briefly snickered before nodding, massaging the shoulder hit by her. Two injured shoulders in a day weren't exactly the best. “I'm sorry. Isaac wanted to try some tricks with the skateboard and I… got a little carried away.” He started to explain, looking anywhere except for the disappointed face of his sister, now sit in the chair near his bed. “I fell, dislodged my shoulder, sprained my wrist aaand here I am.” An icy glare made Matt shiver. “… Sorry?” He offered, smiling unsure.

Lance stepped in before Pidge could strangle her brother, exclaiming “Buddy! I'm glad you're alive!” with a fist ready to be bumped at Matt's eye level. He silently thanked him, gaze alternating between Lance and Pidge as though he was asking permission to greet the others before her reprimand. She grumbled, rolling her eyes. “I'm not going to bite you, stop that!”

“Well, that one time...” Matt started while fist-bumping with Lance and Hunk, but she raised a finger to stop him immediately.

“You'd eaten all my peanut butter, I swear to God-”

The mix of angry screams and stifled giggles obliged the same nurse to ask them to lower their voices, again. They already had not so much time to stay there, better to not make things worse- that poor woman was trying so hard to not kick them out from the hospital… Pidge finally gave up with the fight over her precious peanut butter, and smirked at Matt before ruffling his hair, like he always did to her. A little revenge for making her worry.

“And who is that cool guy behind you?” Matt, after adjusting his shaggy hair sticking his tongue out towards Pidge, curiously looked over Lance's shoulder, who followed his gaze to find that yes, Keith was really on the sidelines staring at the pavement, hiding behind him.

What a waste, his purple eyes had to be seen by everyone, yet he insisted to keep them concealed behind his long eyelashes.

“Oh, right!” Pidge clapped her hands and excitedly waved at the 'cool guy' – humph, Matt never called me cool! - to make him come closer to the bed. He hesitated for a few seconds and then started to walk, trying to smile confidently. “Matt, this is Keith, a 24h/24 emo who plays the piano at the Academy! Keith, this is my careless brother who never listens to me, Matt.”

They shook hands greeting each other, ignoring her kind custom definitions. Matt rubbed his finger on the fabric of Keith's gloves, completely in love. “Man, these gloves are lit! You look like a badass biker.” He pointed at him with a fake serious glance, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed. “So my obvious question is, do you own a motorcycle?!”

Lance rejected the strong desire that Keith really did with a jeering: “Ah! As if!” that… sounded extremely unconvincing in his ears, but no one commented or teased.

The other three turned towards Keith, excited. He stretched his lips, probably feeling uncomfortable for all the attention, and then shrugged. “Yes.” He shook his head. “But I don't… use it that much.”

So… there was a reason for his gloves.

Keith owned a bike. Got it.

Totally uncool. Lance didn't want to see him zooming through the streets of Altea with his hair disheveled by the wind.

Hunk let out an amazed “Wow...”, admiring him with wide eyes and mouth agape, while Pidge nodded, impressed. Lance crossed his arms and looked away, faking a neutral expression as if he wasn't daydreaming to be chauffeured around on his bike, embracing his waist with both arms and leaning his head on Keith's back. Lance, if you dare to blush…!

Matt took his phone and opened the call log. “Anyway, mom and dad had to go back to work but they said that you called me, what did you want?” He asked and turned to look at his sister, but before she could answer four hands surrounded her. Lance and Hunk both pointed towards Pidge with pride, bringing their faces so close at hers that their cheeks were touching. She had to use all her strength to hold back a growl, but her bloodthirsty expression said it all. “Well Matt, as you know, your cute little sister is a genius, but now she'll be able to show it to the world!” Lance began, his voice sounding like a reporter's. Hunk nodded, and quietly added, to clarify: “The world means that tech company of the school's stage.”

Lance heard Keith giggling behind and immediately got rid of any mention of a blush on his cheeks, bursting the little bubbles of happiness in his chest for succeeding in making him laugh again.

Matt gasped and tried to raise both of his arms, whining right after for the pain in his shoulder. “No way!” He exclaimed as soon as he recovered, “For real?!” His eyes were shining.

Pidge rolled her eyes, but smiled and give him a confirmation. The happy reaction of Matt was almost ridiculous to witness: his brows shot up not reaching his hair line for just a few centimeters, his eyes widened so much that his glasses slightly slid from his nose, not to mention his efforts to lift himself from the bed with just a good hand. At the end, Pidge decided to end his suffer standing up to hug him, paying attention at the sling.

“Can you leave already?” Hunk asked, clearly hopeful.

Matt nodded. “Yes, they discharged me before you arrived, but I wanted to wait. Aand I don't have a ride to go home, thank you my friends I love you so much.”

“Opportunist...” Lance muttered, then smirked. “That's why I love you, my meme queen. Speaking of-” He tried to take his phone out, but Hunk was faster to firmly block his hand. “Lance, no. At least wait to be in the car.”

“I started to hate memes because of you two.” Pidge huffed.

Matt and Lance shared a disappointed pout accompanied by a high pitched whine that was surprisingly coordinated- they were used to complain together, so it had become easy to do it in perfect unison, like a choreography. Hunk and Pidge, instead, were used to ignore them and just let it go.

Keith wasn't, though.

“What are memes?”

Two opposite reactions happened at the same time: Lance and Matt turned towards Keith with a horrified expression, as though he had just offended their child, also adding a loud gasp to better show the mortification; simultaneously, Pidge and Hunk screamed: “Don't ask!” at the top of their lungs, nearly assaulting him.

And that's how they were all kicked out.

Worth it. (Lance promised a lesson about memes to Keith, who was a little confused but accepted the offer anyway.)

Matt was informed that they had made pizza, and it was probably still hot enough to eat- Hunk had left it in the oven to be sure. They couldn't waste their – delicious, proven when they finally tasted it – pizza, after all their hard work and infinite dedication. Yeah, yeah, a minor inconvenience with the flour and the tomato sauce on his and Keith's faces, but nothing too important.

All those little details were insignificant when he looked at Pidge and Matt smiling together, at Hunk while he proudly listed all the ingredients, at Keith that was laughing and staying close to them more comfortably.

That had been really… a funny day.

Jake didn't like dancing.

That wasn't a problem, really: Keith wasn't a fan of it either, so he never pushed him to try and go to a club or a disco. They, as a couple, preferred to stay at home watching TV and commenting from time to time, eating popcorn. It was chill and easy, not pretentious, so Keith liked their relationship as it was.

Even if, sometimes… it was almost too chill. He didn't understand this strange feeling of something missing since he wasn't the person who always wanted to do crazy stuff, dancing, go out, talk for hours… yet sometimes he felt like he could want these moments with his boyfriend, as cheesy as it sounded.

Maybe they could have talked about their emotions, their feelings, be honest, listen to the other to find out new things….

But Jake didn't like to express himself out loud.

And Keith didn't have enough confidence to start a conversation.

So they spent time just… kissing on the couch until their lips were swollen and red, and then returning to watch TV or scrolling through socials on their phones.

Maybe they could have done something different from the usual, just for fun, like go to a party, ride with Keith's bike in the middle of nowhere and get drunk, go on a trip in a place never seen before, camp for a night out and look at the stars...

But Jake didn't like to do futile things.

And Keith didn't want to suggest activities he could find too stupid or childish.

So they kept the same routine until their breakup. They would go out once in a while to take a walk in the park, buy something from the supermarket or eat in a restaurant if Jake was in a particular good mood that day; but other than these rare occasions, they would see each other in their respective houses – with the addition of Jake's friends, occasionally – and at the Academy in the days where their turns were close.

Maybe they could have turned on the music and just… dance and laugh lightheartedly in the middle of the room. Like Keith and Shiro did when they were little.

But Jake didn't like dancing.

And Keith… was okay with that. Right?

Was he?

The reality had always been there, in front of him, patiently waiting to be accepted by Keith even if he was clearly reluctant to do so. But he had already understood: the thing that was missing was the possibility to be different. He was shy, not so confident, afraid of abandonment, scared of change and life challenges, but to have at least the opportunity to choose was a little spark of hope that just needed someone who could light it.

And that someone, wasn't Jake.

Keith depended on his decisions, on his mood, on his liking. He knew it wasn't healthy, but what if he had refused to obey? Jake would have broken up with him immediately, leaving him alone.

Looking back to this little part of the relationship, Keith felt silly and almost laughed at himself for being so obsessed with Jake to literally forget about his own needs and desires.

And after accepting this reality, Keith faced another one: his relationship with his ex boyfriend had damaged him more than before, making him distrustful and jaded by love- he didn't trust the concept from the start, and his breakup was just a confirmation of his doubts.

But a year had passed, and he was healing. He was detoxing from all the intrusive thoughts, from all the unhealthy habits he had developed by staying with Jake. Yes, it was difficult to avoid him completely, since they were in the same academy, but Shiro had organized their turns so that they could meet and awkwardly wave at each other the least possible.

Therefore it was okay for him. He just needed time.

But Jake didn't like to wait.

And Keith wasn't strong enough to just ignore the name on the screen of his phone, when he finally had the time to check his notifications in the warmness of his blankets.

So he opened the messages Jake had sent him in the afternoon, when he was with his friends, and read them. And read them again, and again, and again.

jake: hey keith i know its kinda unexpected

jake: but its been a while since i thought about this

jake: i need to talk to u, can we meet?

He read them until his eyes hurt as much as his chest did after the burst of his newborn bubble of happiness.

Jake didn't like to be forgotten.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“Still here?” Shiro asked, leaning on the door frame of the piano classroom, a pained expression on his face, “Keith… it's not healthy.”

After all, he already knew the truth would come out, one way or another. He couldn't stand Shiro's prying eyes in the first place, let alone when they were briefly watery from the tears he always held back for Keith's sake, since they were little. Shiro didn't like to cry in front of him, he had to be the strong brother.

Keith instead, despite constantly trying to be emotionless in front of others, had been unable to stifle his tears with Shiro- he was the only one who could see him, and had seen him before, in that miserable state.

When the short story had finished, and his desperate cry had stopped, leaving him with dry patches of water on his cheeks, Shiro had stayed silent for a few minutes, as though he was trying to recollect his thoughts. His gaze was darting from Keith's phone to his owner, who didn't have the courage to look at him. Finally, the man had sighed, shoulders hunched and lips stretched. “I don't like this, at all.”

“Oh, what a shame,” – Keith had deadpanned with a husky voice due to the previous weeping, rolling his eyes, – “I love it.”

Shiro had ignored his sarcastic remark and continued with his dad speech. It had to happen anyway, he just had to change the subject. Not that he was planning to cancel the other one about the performance on Saturday night- Keith had had to sit through both. “I can't just… ignore the fact that Jake, knowing you don't want anything to do with him, tried to contact you after one year.”

“You have to.”

Another sigh, more defeated. “Keith...”

“If I ignore him, he'll stop. You know he doesn't like to beg.”

Shiro had stared at him, torturing his own lower lip. He had seemed in an internal battle with himself, where on one side he agreed with his little brother, and on the other he wanted to act to help him, following his protective instinct.

Keith had raised slowly his eyebrows, leaning forward to get closer to Shiro. “Please? I'll be okay.” His voice had sounded exhausted, like he had just run- when in reality, he hadn’t moved from his bed since the prior night. His legs had started to go numb.

Lastly Shiro had given up, nodding silently in agreement. “But- promise you'll tell me everything that happens. I won't act, I just want to know and support you. He already ruined your mental health, don’t let him do that again.”

From that conversation, Keith had decided to isolate himself once again- well, at least he had dressed himself and went out to reach the Academy. That was a good start… even to just shut himself in the piano classroom alone for hours, or with Shiro, who surely wasn't okay with his behavior: not only because he barely ate between exercises or even properly function as a human being, but also because by wanting to escape the problem, aka Jake, Keith was subconsciously chasing it, as though he wanted to avoid seeing him, yet he couldn't completely suppress that little voice in the back of his mind that whispered “Maybe Jake really changed. Give him a try”. There was a possibility, something he had desired from their previous relationship but didn't receive, then perhaps… this time he would. Right?

In any case, Keith had learned Jake's schedule by memory, he knew when to stay silent in the class- and Shiro, of course, didn't have the slightest intention to mention they were in the Academy at the same time – also Jake knew not to involve Shiro in their private issues, so he would never ask about Keith – therefore he was covered...

But, there was still a but.

The door of the classroom wasn't totally closed as it used to.

Ugh, Keith didn't think it was possible to hate himself more than before. Guess he was wrong.

The worst part of it was to see his friends excited for that evening together, and not being himself. They would sometimes visit him in the class, – a little heart attack every time the door opened behind him – to just chat casually to keep him company, or talk about their plans for Wednesday.

For example, Hunk was a little worried because he had never skated before, but was curious to try. Plus, apparently there was a cute girl named Shay at his job that loved to skate, so he wanted to impress her in a potentially future date- Hunk didn't say it clearly, but the blush on his cheeks was obvious.

Allura and Coran loved to skate. The latter didn't even try to spare the details on his “really tight tracksuit” that he used to wear when he skated competitively as a young adult. Allura had to gently stop him and take him away with an excuse when he started to describe the commodity around his lower parts.

Pidge couldn't wait to try all the junk food at the bar, and race against Lance- “To win, obviously. He can't skate but also can't refuse a challenge. It'll be easy.”

Oh, yes. Lance.

The excitement, when absent at the Academy, was found on their chat where Keith had written more or less three messages since two days before, after his miserable reply to Lance. It was too late to apologize and honestly embarrassing since he couldn't explain what had happened- “Oh, sorry, my ex boyfriend was online and I freaked out for no reason, treating you like shit.”

This time Lance was giving him the cold shoulder for real, it wasn't an impression. No one, however, mentioned it in order to avoid awkward situations, or simply didn't notice because of the small amount of Keith's messages- that seemed even more little compared to the almost too many Lance's ones that nearly drowned Keith's replies to the point that only a few lucky could read them. Not that they were losing much, besides some snarky remarks from time to time.

He was still in time to cancel and tell them he was sick. They were still going to have fun without him, and wouldn't certainly had to deal with awkward moments between Keith and Lance. Whatever... it wasn't like he was “the life of the party”.

“Keith, no. We want you with us.”

Shiro was really stubborn when he wanted to persuade him from acting impulsively. In all honesty, Keith couldn't even explain to himself why he had confessed his intention to flake, knowing the obvious reaction he would have received from the older brother.

“I don't know…” he shrugged, crossing his arms.

He really didn't. It was like the idea of escaping from a social event gave him relief, but at the same time… a deep feeling of regret, knowing he would have lost the opportunity to have fun with his friends, to just distract himself for once- to just turn off those upsetting and repetitive thoughts, instead of listening while complaining in bed all day, or trying to drown them with the incessant sound of the piano.

The only explanation he could find was that his own mind had boycotted him precisely to see that exact reaction from Shiro to have a little push. To hear words like “no, you have to come” and actually believe in them, to make them his own. He had to go.

He wanted.

But… “You say you all want me, but that's not true. You know it.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, confused for a moment, until the subtle message finally reached him. “Ooh, that.” After a few seconds of hesitation, like he was trying to find the right thing to say, he leaned with his back on the side of the piano, a hand to support himself and the other one used to mildly gesture. “Okay, listen. It's not, like, an unsolvable problem. You just have to apologize.”

It was easy for him to simplify issues when he wasn't involved. “I can't explain him why, he'll want to know more, duh.” He replied, almost too harshly even in his own opinion. He was tired.

To occupy his hands that were shaking from anxiety, Keith started to fix the sheets of papers on the lectern, briefly revising the various notes written on them- like he hadn't already memorized all of the songs after being a recluse in the classroom for hours and hours. Speaking of, he was wasting time on superficial matters when he had to exercise on three more songs… he couldn't fall behind other students- Nathan was improving quicker than expected, Shiro had said, and Jenny had decided she had to win the piano competition at all costs, so she was exercising everyday.

And Jake? Maybe Jake was already better than him because he wasn't struggling against the ghost of their relationship as much.

That was something Jake used to scold Keith for: always too worried, always wasting time being afraid about stupid things… never getting anything actually done in the end.

It was kind of true.

He sucked at playing… who was he kidding? He couldn't just have fun for a night and forget about the fact he was still not enough as a musician, that was impossible.

Playing was his only fucking life purpose.

“Keith- Keith calm down, you're ruining the music sheets...”

Two strong hands on his to stop him from crumpling the papers. He looked up and saw his older brother's concerned face, eyebrows furrowed and wary eyes. Shiro slowly distanced Keith's hands to save the poor victims of his anger – or stress, or anxiety… or all of these together – and finally put the sheets back in their place. They were all wrinkled and slightly wet in some points due to the sweat on Keith's fingers, certain notes now unreadable. “What's wrong?”

Everything. Nothing.

He slowly sighed, the breath accompanied by his whole body tightening up and then hunching on the seat. “Shiro, I'm a mess.”

The other nodded unsurprised. “Nothing new, what else?”

Despite his internal situation, Keith found himself snickering weakly, even throwing a playful punch to Shiro's arm, who retracted laughing affectedly.

“You're an asshole.” Keith commented with a low voice, but a soft smile stretched on his chapped lips, that felt almost out of shape since they weren't being used other than talking in monosyllables and releasing long sighs, like in that moment. “I don't even know what I'm thinking. I want to go out with you guys, but I also don't want to because… maybe I'll ruin the night for Lance, for all of you. And- maybe I need more practice with the piano. Fuck, it feels like my brain has a mind of his own, and I can't understand it half of the time.”

Shiro's shocked face confirmed what the rational part of his mind had already understood: there was no need to be afraid of not being “good enough” at playing the piano. He was amazing, everyone always said that, even people that listened him for the first time- like Lance, for example. Everyone had figured out, or rather considered obvious, that Keith was born to play the piano. It wasn't only hard exercise, – even though that still had a big relevance – it was talent.

Why was he the only one that could not believe it?

“I'm going to ignore the last part. Are you serious?” Shiro stood up and grabbed Keith's shoulders, staring him in the eyes. “I don't accept these doubts from you. I'm not talking only as your brother, but as your teacher. Even if you can't see it, everyone else can. You are incredible.” Lowering both voice and head, he then continued, “Don't beat yourself up with problems that don't exist… you don't deserve it.”

Keith nodded, not fully convinced, but Shiro's words had always a particular effect on him: they worked instantly, at first leaving just a small hope inside Keith, taking more and more meaning over time, then lastly won over, changing his thoughts, so- somehow he was already feeling better, encouraged.

“You're right.” Shiro finally released his shoulders, visibly heartened to see a new light in Keith's eyes, even though all the issues were not solved yet. “I'm sorry, I always make you worry for silly shit.”

Shiro huffed, smiling. “That's what I'm here for. Anyway, come with us, okay? I promise it'll be fun, and about Lance… you just have to apologize, he will understand. As far as I know him, he seems really comprehensive.”

He was, indeed. Keith, since their friendship had started, had treated Lance badly a lot of times, getting angry for no reason with him. Despite this, Lance had tried to understand, even helping him, giving advices, for example with the piano competition.

He had patience with him. Not many people had it.

Keith was about to nod, accepting to go out with their friends, when a creak behind them captured their attention.

The door opened, revealing two smiling Hunk and Pidge who waved their hand to say hello- Keith, not even noticing it, released the breath he was holding, quickly replacing his worried expression with a more relaxed one, hinting a little smile towards them. “Hey guys! We heard you talking. Are we bothering?”

Shiro reached Hunk to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “No, don't worry. We were just chatting. What's up?” He asked with his usual calm tone. Keith mentally thanked him: he wasn't sure he was in the right place psychologically to reply with the same nonchalance- a slight glance to the wrinkled papers reminded him that… his suppressed anger was really a problem when it came to the surface.

“I'm just excited, that's all! I was waiting summer to do these things, oh my god.” Pidge exclaimed, getting so hyped she even clapped her hands and widely smiled, teeth showing through her thin rosy lips. They all giggled and she became red for the embarrassment. To see her like that was unusual, because she tended to hide this “cute” side, feeling too exposed.

“Anyway,” Hunk intervened, ogling at Pidge for a moment before continuing, “Ready for tomorrow?”

Keith stiffened and, obviously, Shiro noticed right away, but didn't comment and simply ignored it, while nodding gently. Pidge however seemed to notice as well, so she went forward a little, tilting her head to the side, but adding her usual smirk, just to make things lighter. “Keith? You still in?”

A simple question without deep meaning. Nonetheless, Keith decided to still give it significance, as though Pidge had asked because she really cared about his presence, not just for pleasantry.

A smile, finally genuine, appeared on Keith's mouth.

“Count on it.”

The one time Lance had tried to be gentle and more open about not really hating Keith, he ended up fucking everything up with his typical “too much gene”. He always did too much, without even realizing it most of the times, because to him it was normal, but for others it wasn't, apparently.

Saying it didn't hurt, was a lie. Keith had already received those compliments from him, so why had he acted so awkwardly this time? And, in a chat with everyone else! Lance had looked like a total idiot, and even if no one made a comment, he knew all the members had thought it.

Miserable as always. He was just trying to help, fuck!

That guy was so frustrating. Lance honestly didn't know what else to do, since everything he had done before always seemed the be the wrong thing.

It wasn't the first time he had felt without hope for a crush, but… somehow, this one hurt the most. Because there had been some times when he had almost seen the same light in Keith's eyes that he had in his own when they looked at each other.

Instead, he had to realize there were just cold glares, annoyed huffs and, most recently, dismissive responses in chat.

Maybe Keith was like Charles. He was okay with gays, bisexual and LGBTQ+ members in general, until they were too close to him. Then it was a problem.

“Lance, think about it for just a second. Do you really think that, one, Keith is that type of person, and that, two, we would be his friends?” Pidge had said, growling for the hundredth time after Lance had complained for mostly the same amount of times. She had also looked amused when Lance had talked about his theory, but there was no time to investigate further.

She was kinda right, but how could he know for sure?

There was no turning back, however, since Pidge, Hunk and he had just arrived at the skating rink. Wednesday nights were usually calm since people were busy in the middle of the week, but thanks to the summer and to the special offer at the rink, there were teens, adults and mostly children all grouped in front of the wide glass door, excited to enter and have fun.

Lance was too, but the anxiety of seeing Keith was so intense that it almost overcame his joy. (Almost- skating seemed awesome, so his spirit animal couldn't be totally suppressed, even in these situations.) He was a bundle of emotions, to the point that Hunk had to gently stop him from bouncing nervously on the spot, by putting a hand on his shoulders. They shared a look, where his best friend smiled encouragingly, and Lance just swallowed and nodded. Whatever, alright? If Keith wanted to be the asshole, he was welcomed. Lance had to be the mature one.

Thankfully the conversation after Hunk and Pidge had found him smiling and blushing while chatting with Keith hadn't been too bad: they had just joked about it without asking anything else, like what Lance felt, if he liked him as a potential guy to hang out with more frequently- strange, but reassuring, as though they didn't want to interfere or urge him to do something.

The atmosphere after Keith's last reply, though… hadn't been as light as before. They both had decided to leave Lance alone on the couch, with the phone weakly kept between his joined hands, after making sure it was all okay and he didn't need them to stay with him. It wasn't okay, they knew, but Lance had no desire to vent in that moment, and maybe never. He felt pathetic.

He guessed there were worst things in life than an unfriendly message from a crush, so he just had to… let that go.

(It still bothered him like a motherfucker.)

After they finally found a park among the chaos of cars in the parking next to the rink, they reached the entrance where Coran and Allura were waiting them. The former was bouncing from one feet to the other, like he was preparing himself for a marathon. He had a baggy orange suit that hopefully didn't hide his infamous “very tight coverall”- Allura would have never let him wear that, so there was a high chance Coran had just normal clothes on.

They all waved and greeted each other, moving aside to not hinter the door while they were waiting for Shiro and Keith- Lance silently sighed hearing the last name. He was glad they were not there yet, so he could take time to prepare himself and just peacefully chat with his friends for a bit.

Aaand then a familiar voice behind his back exclaimed “Hey, sorry for being late!”. Shiro made a little run to get to them while waving his hand, a big smile on his face. He hugged Allura – how could Lance not see their heart eyes at first? Unbelievable – and gave a fist bump to everyone else, adding a typical ruffling to Pidge's hair. No one could resist to do that, mostly to see her annoyed reaction.

Well, Shiro was cool. The problem was right behind him, silent and moody as usual, joining them at the last moment like he had all the time in the world. It was a miracle his gaze was not fixated on the ground, props to him.

“Hi everyone.” Keith said, a forced smile to be convincing.

Okay, Lance was already bothered, but damn if he was angry now.

Keith… was so frustratingly handsome.

He didn't know if he was always that hot, or if it was because Lance was looking at him with different eyes now that he constantly thought about having a crush on him, or if he was just going fucking crazy- the reality was still there: Keith didn't even have to put an effort in his look. A red tank top that showed a glimpse of his biceps otherwise fully covered by his typical leather jacket, this time black, but always cropped at the height of his slim waist; a pair of loose sweatpants of the same color that still complimented his legs, – how the fuck does he do that?! - black and white vans, and lastly his “cool biker” fingerless gloves.

Not a single fuck put into that outfit, obviously. It looked like he could have slept in those clothes.

He was just… breathtaking naturally.

So how could Lance not stare at him all the time?

Oh my god, that night already sucked.

“Don't worry! We already took the tickets, so… let's go!” Allura announced cheerfully, gesturing towards the skating rink with a wide movement of the arm. The group started to walk and chat about this and that, not caring too much; someone wasn't sure about his foot size for the rolling skates, someone – being Pidge – wondered if there was a game room like you could see in movies, and someone else was already asking where was the bathroom.

Keith wasn't one of these someones. He was barely paying attention. And yeah, maybe it was hypocritical when Lance wasn't really listening as well, but… it was hard to focus on more things at the same time, okay? He had to stare at Keith just to see if the asshole would notice and finally say something, like uuh, “excuse me if I'm a piece of shit”?

But nothing. Keith just gazed around with an unreadable expression, not being curios nor annoyed. Just… impassive.

It was irritating.

His eyelashes were long and flattering for his pretty purple eyes.

The flush on his freckled cheeks was more noticeable on his pale skin than usual… it was cute, but strange? Was he always this pale? And why was he blushing for no reason?

Also, his walk seemed off, like he was already tired.

Don't ask anything.

Lance opened his mouth and tried to say something, but only some stutters got out, luckily covered by all the noises that screaming children and wheels on the rink were making.

They gave you another opportunity. Don't. Say. Anything!

Another try, this time he actually approached Keith and prepared a simple question, deciding in that moment if a pat on the shoulder was too much. “Keith, are you-”

A child cut him off by sprinting between them, nearly making him fall on the ground like an idiot. Was someone trying to warn him that talking to Keith wasn't a good idea? Message received, then.

They arrived to the benches where a lot of people had already chosen their foot size for the skates, and were putting them on- some parents had them and were now on their knees tying their children'. Coran trotted faster than them to claim the last free bench, slightly far away from the other ones, by throwing his duffel bag – where he kept his personal skates – like he was competing with someone else and absolutely had to win.

Allura arrived right after, leaving her bag close to Coran's with more grace, appearing unaffected. She was used to his extravagant behavior by now.

“Oh, look! There are lockers to put personal stuff in.” Hunk noticed, pointing to the row of silver lockers at their left. They all had a number, some of the keys to close them were instead missing, indicating they were already taken. They decided to use two lockers in total for everyone to not occupy too many unnecessarily.

Coran and Allura put on their skates, since they were not hungry at the moment, and decided to start without the others. Even though both had said they were out of shape, they were pretty good and in balance. Allura even succeeded in doing a spin on one leg.

“Be careful!” Shiro had urged, but who knows if they had heard him among all the noises. Being a dad must have been hard.

Pidge couldn't resist a second more without going to the bar – she also had to drown her sorrows in food after seeing there was no game room – so she had asked to be accompanied and eat something before skating, “just a little snack”. At the end her endless pleas convinced – or rather forced – everyone to follow her, so they found themselves all seated at the circular counter of the bar with a white basket full of fries and various sauces. The stools, coated with a thin layer of black fake leather, were a little uncomfortable but not in an unbearable way; what was making Lance uneasy, however, was the proximity of Keith.

Of course Pidge and Hunk had to sit next to each other. Shiro was on the other side of Keith, as though he was an accomplice of those two. Remember when Lance was heartened by the space his best friends were leaving him? Yeah, he should have known better. Their actions were not obvious, but still noticeable after a little of experience with their “evil plans”.

Keith almost had to fight with Pidge to receive a very smaller portion with no sauces, because “he wasn't really hungry”.

Shiro instead had won instantly over her, even though he still had to promise the two of them would have eaten something together later in the night.

“You didn't have dinner, Keith, are you sure?” Shiro asked slowly, observing his brother picking up fries and then putting them back in the basket, over and over.

Lance knew that sometimes being the older sibling meant worrying excessively, often resulting in bickers and tantrums, – especially when your brother was Keith Kogane, Lance imagined – so Shiro was clearly trying to not be pushy.

But, at least Lance was glad the question had been asked by someone else, since he couldn't firsthand.

Keith raised his oddly swollen eyes to look at Shiro.

Brace for impact… the moodiness was about to arrive…

He simply shook his head. “Don't worry, I'm fine.”

Was Lance the only one who was holding his breath until that moment? Yes? Okay.

Shiro hesitated a few seconds before nodding, still unsure, but his hypothetical next sentence was interrupted by a feminine voice behind them, followed by noisy wheels and a whistle.

Coran and Allura waved at them from the barrier of the skating rink, not too far away from the bar, so they didn't even have to loudly shout to hear each other. “Guys, hurry up! We're having a blast here!”

Allura leaned on the railing with her arms folded and her legs crossed, totally at ease on the skates like they were daily shoes. She had tied up her hair in a high chignon that surrounded her head like a shiny silver crown. With comfy purple leggins and big white sweater she almost looked like a competitive skater who was just casually exercising, yet keeping her typical elegance.

Coran appeared instead like a sweaty, agonizing mess.

That was the best description Lance could give.

“Shiro, you're not even eating! C'moooon!” Allura begged with a high-pitched voice, even stomping her feet to the ground. And Shiro, being the hopelessly lovesick he was, couldn't resist anymore, excusing himself to rent a pair of roller skates.

Lance honestly didn't even blame him, it was kind of impossible to refuse. He probably would have done the same if he had that type of attention from Allura. Pidge didn't agree, though.

Shiro now had two promises to maintain for her.

Thus, the four of them remained seated, chatting while eating fries for a little more time. “Eating” was perhaps exaggerated while talking about the rummage Keith was making with the plastic fork- and also “chatting”, since he wasn't talking at all, maybe not even listening while Hunk vented about his fear of skating.

“What if I fall? What if I look stupid?” He was ranting, stuffing some fries in his mouth from time to time, barely chewing them before swallowing. “What if Shay wants to skate with me and I can't!”

Lance shook his head and flashed his best smirk. “Buddy, you can do it, okay? And if you can't, listen closely: she can teach you! How romantic would it be?!” He gestured wildly with two fries between his fingers. Pidge, almost absent-mindedly being used to Lance's sudden arm swings, moved her head away when his hands were too close to her face, preventing potential hits, while continuing to eat calmly.

Hunk shrank on his seat. “R-romantic? I wasn't...” He whispered trying to justify himself, but a grumble interrupted him.

“You have a crush on her, Hunk, duh. We got it.” Pidge declared with a monotone voice, like it was evident.

(It kinda was. Lance would have teased him if he had been in a place to critique other people.)

The big guy flinched, taken by surprise, but didn't try to deny it- like someone else, yeah, I know. He just sighed and nodded, admitting defeat to a triumphant Pidge who faked a half bow on her stool, forcing the rotation of it to be acclaimed by everyone- being just Lance, Keith still wasn't paying attention.

“Okay, okay, cut the chatter guys. What should I do with her?” Hunk continued, with a courage that Lance frankly envied. It wasn't the first time he had heard his best friend talking about love stuff and crushes, but now that Lance was so into his own, he couldn't even imagine talking freely like that about Keith, begging for advices. It was… too odd, man, they were friends before Lance had met him! It felt almost like he was an intruder during their time together as a squad.

He just hoped to never reach that desperate point where he would have hadto confess everything to them and ask for help.

It would have been embarrassing- their amused faces when he was chatting with Keith were enough to understand that this pathetic crush couldn't go on.

Enough with myself. This is about Hunk.

“Well, first, you have to introduce her to us.” Lance interjected with a grin, already expecting a glare in response. He flapped his hand back and forth to cut the joke and actually try to help. “I guess you just have to be yourself. She seems really nice and kind, you wouldn't like her otherwise, right?”

Pidge agreed with a head nod. “Yeah, even if you were really bad at skating I don't think she would judge you. Lance had a point with the romantic shit and all that jazz.”

“I know she wouldn't. Shay's too sweet and caring.” Hunk sighed, hunching his shoulders and blushing a little. The fries were gone, so he couldn't even let off his steam on them anymore. “That's why she seems out of my league. Like, she's almost too much for me.”

“What the fuck, man?”

“Hunk, stop, I'm going to punch you.”

Lance and Pidge shared a knowing look, bumping their fists together instantly. It was cool when they talked at the same time and said almost the same thing, like they could read each other's minds. The other huffed, rolling his eyes, but smiled right after, shaking his head. “We'll see.”

The sudden scratchy noise of the stool legs against the creamy-white tiles didn't drown out Hunk's voice, being stronger and louder, but it still startled them a little. They looked over and noticed that Keith was standing up, leaning on the counter with his hand, his eyes narrowed.

“Is… everything okay?” Pidge tried to ask, on guard.

Keith chewed on his lips for a moment, as though he was considering the options he had. What was wrong with him, tonight? He was weirder than usual, if possible.

Lance was starting to really worry for Keith's health.

And that was infuriating.

“Yeah, wasn't hungry. I think- I think I'll go rent my skates.” He finally answered, throwing a look towards the other end of the building, where a bored guy in uniform behind a counter was distributing pair of roller skates to a line of children who were emitting ultrasound noises for the excitement. “See you there.”

Don't let him go.

Lance couldn't move.

Keith was already starting to walk away, he couldn't even reach out with a hand if he wanted to. Something in his gut was telling him to stop Keith, but he just… couldn't.

“Hey, wait! I didn't finish my fries, and I want to give some piece of advice to Hunk. Maybe Lance can accompany you?”

Lance had to really focus on Pidge's words to catch their meaning. When they finally made sense, he nearly chocked on his spit.

W-what?!

The two of them… alone? Again?!

Oh no no no, red alert, this was going to end sooo bad.

He didn't need another rejection in front of their friends, thank you very much, he had had enough for the next century.

“Uuh, maybe Kei-”

“It's okay for me, if he wants to.”

Okay, did they know Lance was there too? Why were they talking like he wasn't-

Wait a second. It was okay for him?

Keith was standing in front of Lance, gloved hands in the low pockets of the sweatpants, his gaze not quite fixated to the ground nor to the other's face but in a sort of a middle point, like he didn't have enough force to actually look at Lance's eyes, but the desire of doing it was present. One side of his mouth was lifted in a sheepish hesitant expression. Was he- waiting for his reply?

“It's- It's okay for me too. I'm… let's go.”

Lance had to gather all the bravery in his body in order to actually stand up and reach Keith. His legs were trembling.

Before he was too far away, he turned around while walking, making sure the other boy wasn't aware of it, to look at Pidge and Hunk. Sure enough, a malicious grin was decorating both faces.

He didn't flip them off just because there were too many children.

And maybe also because he wanted to thank them.

That Wednesday morning had started with a coughing fit.

Keith had woken up all groggy and sore, struggling even to just open his eyes without feeling like the world was spinning around him. It was freezing… and then it was like being in hell. Then… cold again. What the fuck?

Later in the day he had felt “better”, being he hadn't the persistent urge to vomit every second anymore, but his body was still weak, any limb weighed five kilos more. However, he had fought against himself to go out that night with his friends, so there was no way he could cancel now, just for a little pain. When Shiro had asked him if he was okay, he had said it was a momentary headache- and then proceeded to hide himself to avoid further investigations. Fortunately, even though Keith had no explanation, lately Shiro had tried to leave him more privacy. There was still concern in the looks he threw sometimes after their conversations, but no persistent questions were asked.

And then… it was time to meet with the others.

He had just put on the first things he could find in the wardrobe, hoping no one would judge him for his questionable sense of style. Lance would have done it, but… honestly Keith didn't know if they would talk at all, or even look at each other.

It wasn't difficult to look at Lance exclusively for the embarrassment Keith felt seeing him after what had happened, but also for the bizarre blurriness of his vision, although not the type he always suffered of because he didn't want to wear his prescribed glasses- everyone looked cooler and clever with glasses, while he just looked like an idiot. Insert Shiro saying “You don't!” here.

His stomach was making funny noises, but just the thought of eating disgusted him. Keith had felt like shit when Pidge had proposed to go to the bar to order fries, but after a long battle he had managed to win against her- imagine to eat and vomit right after in front of all the clients, your friends and your crush.

Your crush who is sitting next to you.

“You didn't have dinner, Keith, are you sure?” Shiro had asked. He was still his worried older brother, after all, even if more controlled than usual. He simply had shaken his head, “Don't worry, I'm fine” because energies to reprimand him for his excessive concern were not available, and honestly he didn't want to start a discussion in front of the others after all the problems he had already caused, starting from the coldness in the group chat.

Lately Shiro had abandoned them for the love of his life, leaving Keith with the duty of listening to his friends instead of just agreeing sometimes with his brother, or making sarcastic comments. Also, he was sitting next to Lance, so he couldn't throw desperate looks from time to time in search of a silent help from Shiro, like a knowing smile or a thumb up as an encouragement.

Keith tried really hard to listen to what Hunk and Pidge were saying about… – what was her name again? Shay? – but his ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't even stand the noise of the plastic forks against the basket of fries. It was like hearing an endless echo of everything that made the slightest sound.

Focus. Patience yields focus.

His hands were really sweaty, and looked horribly pale against the black of his fingerless gloves, more than usual- that had always seemed impossible, but apparently he was wrong. They were almost dead white.

He needed to just go. Breathe for a second.

The sound of his heartbeat thumped so loudly in his ears that it overcame the chair when he suddenly sat up. Unfortunately, everyone else could perfectly hear, so he caught their attention without wanting to do so. He needed to calm himself, alone, sitting somewhere else. There was no point in staying beside his friends and not being able to listen to their problems, trying to help with advices, so he was just useless there.

“Is… everything okay?” Pidge's voice cut through the noise.

He weakly nodded. Making up excuses was starting to be a lot easier, lately. Not sure if that was a positive thing. “Yeah, wasn't hungry. I think- I think I'll go rent my skates.” Keith cringed at his own monotone voice. It was hard even to stand straight, so he had to lean on the counter with a hand. The world was still spinning. “See you there.”

He started to walk, until Pidge talked again. “Hey, wait! I didn't finish my fries, and I want to give some piece of advice to Hunk. Maybe Lance can accompany you?”

Lance. And I. Alone?

This was something he had tried to avoid all night: it was already kind of embarrassing to stand there while hanging out with all the squad, then sitting right next to him with also other people, but… just the two of them? It sounded terrifying, and a foreshadowing for one of their usual fights he hoped would never happen again after their few “bonding moments”. Guess he was wrong for the umpteenth time- certainly not surprised, however. Could anything go at least decent? Of course not.

He threw a quick look at Lance, who had his eyes fixated to the ground, probably rather disappearing than spend even a few seconds alone with Keith. Honestly, most of the times, even he didn't want to spend time with himself.

Keith heard himself saying, “It's okay for me, if he wants to.” assuming a cool pose, to actually look “okay with it”.

That was not… what he thought to say, but… okay. His subconscious had taken over his mouth once again, letting slip his real thoughts- he wanted to stay alone with Lance, to have an opportunity to apologize in a proper way and just cut off the tension between them, because he frankly didn't need to stay away from someone who always made him smile, even giggle sometimes. The problem was the intention needed to be mutual, so he couldn't give for granted Lance's acceptance of yet another apology, let alone even wanting to talk about it in the first place.

Lance just had to refuse and they could go on with their lives-

“It's- It's okay for me too. I'm… let's go.”

Oh.

Lance frantically got up and followed him without adding anything else. The moment before he was sitting there, a quizzical expression on his face, his leg bouncing nervously on the footstool, the moment after he was standing up behind Keith, no comments or puns added.

And then, as they reached the benches far away from anyone of the friends group, silence dropped on their shoulders like a heavy weight that was dangling over them, waiting to fall. They sat down, awkwardly keeping distances, making sure to not even breath the same air.

Why did everything needed to be so difficult?

Keith just wanted to hear Lance's laugh to feel lighter again. He didn't want to address the situation, and by looking at Lance he seemed reluctant as well, so why did they have to deal with it?

It sounded like something serious adults did: confronting problems with other people. Keith didn't feel like one, he was just… a stupid teenager who sometimes made mistakes.

Man, growing up sucked.

The weight on the other end of the bench shifted, capturing Keith's subtle gaze towards Lance. Impeccable hair as always, tanned skin that looked almost shiny under the artificial lights of the building; the light blue t-shirt he was wearing had a large neckline, exposing his tapered clavicles- Keith lingered a little too much on that detail. His hairless smooth legs, covered at the height of his knees by a pair of black shorts, were crossed and bouncy, as though he was trying to free some of his anxiety using tics.

Indeed, he looked handsome, but that was needless to say.

“Well?”

Keith almost chocked.

Hoping he hadn't been caught in the act of staring, he tentatively raised his eyes to meet Lance's. Guess… it was time to talk.

“Listen, Lance-”

“No, I-” Lance waved his hand in front of himself. “I meant, didn't you say you were going to rent your skates?”

Look, okay, he was not saying he was disappointed, but he was disappointed. Lance wasn't even going to acknowledge the fact they hadn't talked all night until that point, deciding it was better to just remember him he had to rent those fucking roller skates? Well, better this way then.

If he wanted to ignore the problem, Keith did too.

Did he? Ugh, just a moment before he would have agreed with Lance, and now… he was the one wanting to face it. It was like, voluntarily or not, Lance was playing with his mind.

How do you call it? Reverse psychology?

“Uh, yeah. What's your foot size?”

“Six. Thanks.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Keith felt like he had put the autopilot while he went to the bored guy at the counter that had the typical face of someone who would have preferred to be everywhere but there, – honestly, mood – asked two roller skates, took them between his shaky arms and finally came back to the bench, where Lance was in the same position, looking distressed, the lower lip caught and chewed by his teeth. It seemed painful, but Lance was probably too focused to actually feel the ache.

He sat down and began to remove his shoes, putting them under the bench so none of the crazy running children would trip and fall- he really didn't fancy a reprimand from angry parents. Lance mirrored his actions and lay his own next to Keith's.

Funny that their shoes were closer than them.

“So.”

Okay, that was the second time Lance had began the conversation, introducing himself with a casual start; Keith now hoped he was more prepared to another awkward pleasantry just to avoid the silence between them: knowing Lance, it wasn't a big surprise he couldn't stand the absence of conversations for too long.

“Gotta go, uh?”

It turned out… Keith wasn't prepared.

Lance's voice was nonchalant, almost cold. There was- not anger, but certainly hostility, like he was trying to sound tough but he couldn't force himself to be completely.

“I…” Keith's breath got stuck in his throat. “I'm sorry for that.”

Someone, most likely a group of children, was singing happy birthday to the guest of honor. That was strange, but many liked to have their birthday party at the skating rink- maybe they wanted to feel the thrills of danger by bringing a cake and risking, with a high percent of possibilities, to splatter it on to the floor.

Lance shrugged, huffing. His brows were furrowed so much that some wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “You could have just said it, you know.”

“Said what?” Frankly, Keith didn't know where this was going.

Lance looked more and more frustrated, also judging by his tight grip on the white boot between his hands. The words seemed difficult to come out of his mouth.

“That you… are uncomfortable with me saying stuff like that, or… I don't know.”

The song had finished, followed by happy cheers, moms screaming “And now time for the cake!” and begging for composure. Keith hadn't celebrated his birthday in a proper way in… how many years? Before Shiro and he had moved in their own apartment their parents would always try to invite some of Keith's classmates, but he knew no one, so the four of them would always end up sitting at the kitchen table with a cake prepared by their mom, some drinks and a movie chosen by the birthday boy.

Now, since Shiro sucked at cooking sweets, – no one could explain why just those, and not other things – Allura would substitute their mom, and then it was pretty much the same, just without their parents but with his older brother's almost-girlfriend.

Sometimes he missed knowing how legit birthday parties felt, with friends, funny hats, music, dances, his parents alive and happy.

“What-what do you mean? I'm not.”

Ugh, noises were so loud in his head. The skate, when Lance released it from his hands, almost sounded like a gunshot, even if it had just landed normally on the ground.

“Then, what was the problem? Did I say something wrong?”

Keith wiped off a little drop of sweat that was falling down from his right temple. He was too tired for this shit, and too tired to lie and come up with a fake story- at the same time, he couldn't say the truth, at least not now. It was still a touchy subject to talk about with himself truthfully, let alone with other people who could blame him for making a big deal out of nothing. “No, no… of course you didn't. I can't really explain, I'm sorry.”

Lance huffed again, bitterly smiling while looking away. “You can't. Okay, I guess.”

It wasn't okay, and you could see it from the disappointed expression he had. Keith understood him, it sounded more like an excuse than an apology, but… what else could he do?

How would Shiro act?

Probably saying dad things or giving emotional speeches.

He was not like Shiro, but… he was like Keith.

Yeah, the normal Keith usually got angry for no reason and prefer to just “scream the problem away”, but this Keith? He was, again, too exhausted for that.

So tiredness, apparently, meant he was calmer and somehow more thoughtful, wise. And sweatier, what the hell?

“Lance.” He sounded like Shiro. Oh no. “Thank you so much for your words, you didn't have to compliment me again, yet you did just to cheer me up. I'm really glad to have your support.”

Lance turned towards him, his eyes comically widened, his brows almost reaching his hairline. His cheeks were softly flushed.

“This is what I was going to say in the group...” Keith shook his head and huffed, lifting one side of his mouth. “Okay, not exactly like this. Maybe more abbreviated and with some typos.”

The other boy hesitated for just a moment, probably trying to understand what was happening to Keith, – if he was the real one, or if some alien had abducted him while he had been distracted – and then exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head. “Indeed.”

“I know this sounds like a crappy apology, but I really didn't want to treat you like shit for the hundredth time. I just… can't explain, for now. But that's not your fault, I promise.”

Lance stared at him for what felt like an eternity, with wide blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Then, without any warning, he threw his head backwards and let out a loud sigh, fortunately covered by the already present noise surrounding them.

“I swear, when we came here I was like 'I'm gonna be so chill, so mature, it was just a message after all'. And then boom, I was so nervous I turned off my brain and… you! You reply like that!” He suddenly pointed at him, “Are you the real Keith?!”

He laughed, shrugging. “I had the same doubts, but… yes.”

Lance lowered his index finger, but still looked shocked. “Not even a trace of anger. That's impressive. And scary, you sure you're not a clone?” His suspicious expression, as soon as he finished the sentence, melted in one of those breathtaking smiles he always did after a joke- thank god Keith was already sitting.

“Yeah, I'm not... in the mood.” He sheepishly muttered with an uncertain smile, running a hand through his own hair.

Lance's face changed again, now appearing worried, one side of his lips upraised and eyebrows knitted together. He slitted closer to Keith, not going all the way through, but enough to have his hand almost touching Keith's thigh. Don't blush, don't blush.

“I noticed it. You don't look very healthy. Are you okay?”

He noticed it? Lance had kept an eye on him the whole time without him realizing it?

It- it was highly probable Keith hadn't figured it out, since his vision wasn't excellent – a combination of bad sight and… whatever was going on within his body – but still… Lance cared about his welfare even though they didn't even talk, let alone look at each other. No one had asked him to do it.

Aaaand now he was blushing. Wonderful.

However, he had gone through a long and painful debate against his mind to be here tonight, so there was no possibility he was going to say he felt awful, just to return home, be miserable and sleep alone while the squad was having fun. Not when Lance was there, looking beautiful and especially looking at Keith, now that everything was cool again between them.

“I'm fine, don't worry. Just tired.”

Lance frowned, not convinced. He was going to say something, maybe suggest to go home and rest, when Keith abruptly took his roller skates and began to put them on as fast as he could- missing at least three lace holes, but who cared.

“Tired of your slow ass with those skates. Don't we have a challenge to do?”

“W-what!” Lance recovered instantly at the mention of a challenge, not wasting another second to put on the boots like his life depended on it. It was easy to gain his attention with words like “challenge”, Keith had learned. “Oh, it's on, mullet! Just you wait, you're sooo screwed-”

He made a double knot with the laces and raised his eyes, finding Keith's hand with the palm up, waiting for him. The sentence died on his lips, while his cheeks became more flushed than before. Keith, meanwhile, hoped that the red on his own wasn't as visible. He couldn't justify his action… Lance was there, sitting, and Keith was there, standing, so… he looked like he needed, you know, a hand? To stand up from the bench.

And Keith, again, was in front of him, standing- he couldn't just stay there like a pole and do nothing, no?

Lance didn't comment and just took the hand, raising himself up with his eyes fixated to the ground.

Since they both had skates on, Lance was still slightly taller. It was obvious, but Keith would have lied if he said there hadn't been a little sparkle of hope, just for a moment.

Their hands lingered a second too much before they broke the contact, faking coughs and throat clearings.

“So, uh, yeah!” Lance cleared his throat one more time, then pointed at the entrance of the rink. “Last one is a loser!”

From outside seeing Keith and Lance racing against each other was ridiculous, and a show you had to consider yourself lucky to witness: they run as fast as they could, wiping out everything on their path like a cattle of beasts, sometimes making the other one trip or fall, just for a stupid challenge- and Keith wasn't even a competitive person, but when Lance was involved…

However, this race was, if possible, even more amusing to see, since they had roller skates and neither of them had an idea on how to skate without potentially breaking their necks.

And the floor had moquette.

This still wasn't enough to stop them from at least try- failing, but you know, you have to start somewhere in order to fail and try again, maybe succeeding next time.

They finally arrived at the little silver gate in a bundle of sweat, labored breaths and curses, both holding onto the shoulder of the other for dear life. Keith, already breathless from the start, was now sure he would have died at the end of the night. His legs were trembling so much he actually felt surprised to still be upright.

Future Keith would have damned himself later, but Present Keith just wanted to have fun- and rub his victory in Lance's face.

If he… had won. Did he?

“I… I won.”

“No, I did.”

“Sure, mullet. My foot… is more forward than yours… see?”

“You moved it now.”

“I'm gonna punch you… when I recover.”

Two minutes in restoring energy thrown on the railing like dead bodies, they finally felt better – or at least Lance appeared full of life, while Keith was ready to see the Grim Reaper waiting for him somewhere in the crowd – so now was time to finally skate. Their friends were on the other side of the rink, all reunited after Hunk and Pidge had finished their chat about Shay, and Coran was showing his skills from his “golden times” with a concerned Allura behind, ready to take him if he fell. Shiro was right next to her, grabbing her shoulder, visibly scared to move even a fraction of an inch. Despite this, they all seemed happy.

Was Keith the only one feeling like he was in a hot oven?

“Hey, shall we go?” Lance leaned a hand on his shoulder, recalling his attention. He simply nodded, but that hurt his head.

He saw Lance slowly putting one foot in front of the other, trying to move forward on the wheels by sliding on the floor. To keep his balance, he extended his arms at the height of his shoulders, hands parallel to them so they looked even longer than usual. He was so focused he probably didn't notice his tongue was sticking out from his lips. Cute. Keith would have smiled and blush if he hadn't been too busy trying to not pass out.

“Look mullet, I'm doing it!” Lance screamed excitedly, turning his head towards him and smiling like a little baby proud of himself. “C'mon, it's not difficult!”

He was so pretty and adorable, even surrounded by black spots and a sort of opaque frame at the sides of Keith's peripheral vision.

Keith put a foot forward, but suddenly there were two… and then three feet all aligned in the same spot. What?

Lance was already starting to get the hang of it, sliding with more confidence, making wobbly turns from time to time… he was too far away and Keith felt like his voice was trapped in his throat. The only thing he could do was speeding up hoping to reach him in time before dying there. The thought of finally saying the truth wasn't alluring, but in one way or another Lance would have noticed there was a problem with him.

He attempted to glide on the floor, focusing his attention on his feet, but every step felt like his back was hunching more and more forward, like his own body couldn't bear his weight.

And then, a sharp pain through his hand made his vision vivid, crystal clear for just moment before he saw black.

“...eith-”

Two arms lifted his torso from the ground, one hand took his.

The touch hurt a lot, like a spark of electricity had passed through his whole body up to his brain and back to the hand.

His hand. No. No way.

It was impossible… if his hand was broken-

“You're burning up, Keith!”

Please don't say anything to them. I don't want to ruin our night.

If those words were just in his mind, or if he actually managed to say them, Keith had no clue. He blacked out the minute after.

He knew it.

He fucking knew it!

Keith wasn't “okay”, and now Lance was feeling so stupid and neglectful because he could have prevented all of this. He could have prevented Keith from feeling more and more awful, from falling and especially… from hurting his hand. My god, his hand. Shiro was going to kill them! No, not just him, everyone!

It was like… a dancer had hurt his leg.

Like a surfer had broken his board. Like a- okay, you get it.

The piano was essential for Keith, that was indisputable, so it was like… taking away his only joy in life. His only purpose.

And whose fault was that? Lance.

He was so tired of making mistakes with Keith, from the recent stupid fight he had tried to start that night for no fucking reason. Luckily, Keith had been calm and things had seemed awesome at first. They were themselves again: Lance and Keith, neck to neck, ready for their infamous challenge. And now Keith was between his arms, sweaty and pale, passed out with an aching hand- Lance was holding it, praying with all his heart it was not broken nor fractured, but just sore from the violent impact.

He could have not lived with the weight of Keith's cut short promising career on his shoulders.

Yeah, it could have healed perfectly so he would have been able to play again, but what if the shock was too strong? What if it was broken? What if Keith wanted to abandon the piano forever?

He didn't know what to do. Panic was making him useless.

Perhaps if he called his friends they would help… They were far away so they weren't aware of the situation, but if Lance had called someone…

“Please… don't say...” Keith flinched, struggling to keep his eyes open. He tried to move his other hand reaching out for Lance, but it dropped like a dead weight on his lap. “I don't want… to ruin...”

He passed out again, furrowed eyebrows and face scrunched in a distressed grimace.

Lance huffed, incredulous. What a dickhead.

Almost dead on the floor, burning hot, probably with a high fever, and still caring about ruining their night together.

He looked around checking if someone had noticed anything, but everyone was too busy with their own thing: some were eating at the bar, some skating, someone else just chatting, others were going away. That probably meant it was starting to be late, but… the hospital was still open.

The first thing he needed to do was free himself from extra weight: skates off. He felt a bit embarrassed when he had to take them off for Keith, but there wasn't time for emotions and crushes and blah blah blah.

Lance took advantage of the lack of attention from people to pick Keith up, – only some moms threw concerned looks towards them, quickly reassured by Lance smiling and nodding – careful to not touch or pull his hand while putting his arm around his own shoulders. Yes, walking was so much easier now that they didn't have skates, so the path from the rink to the bench was less of a pain in the ass. He took their shoes and put them on- Keith was probably half-awake at this point, because he was sitting sustaining his body with one hand behind him, yet he didn't look like he was processing what was happening.

Surely he wouldn't have stayed silent if he had seen Lance putting his shoes on for him.

Before starting his car, Lance sent a message to Pidge, hoping the squad would return to the bench at some point, noticing Lance and Keith's absence. He couldn't let them worry, so he simply wrote “pidgeon, keith forgot something and asked to go home to take it. brb! don't have too much fun without us”.

Poor excuse, they were not coming back so it was going to be obvious, but for now it had to work.

Keith had his head thrown backwards, leaning on the headrest of the seat, eyes closed and an expression slightly more relaxed than before. He held his hurt wrist with his other hand, sometimes rubbing it.

Lance almost surrendered to the urge of moving one of his longer black locks to the side of his forehead, just because it was in the way of those pretty eyelashes… ah, his hair still appeared soft at the sight. How?

Not now, you creep.

The car turned on with its usual obnoxious noise- Hunk had tried many times to fix it, with no results unfortunately. It would go away for some days, giving them hope, to then return louder than before. The car was pretty old, after all: it was a Hunk's parents' gift for them when they had moved out, since they needed one but hadn't had a job to buy it yet.

The lights on the streets sometimes lightened Keith's profile features, that somehow appeared both smooth and sharp. It was a weird combination, apparently impossible, but there was no better way to explain the contrast of his pretty nose, thin and upturned with his thick black eyebrows or pointy chin.

He looked almost peaceful.

“It'll be alright, Keith.” He heard himself muttering.

Maybe it was an impression, but his brows, knitted together just a moment before, relaxed instantly hearing Lance's voice.

“Thankfully the wrist has just a mild sprain, that can be healed by keeping a brace for two weeks maximum.”

Lance let out his breath, already relieved. Good news. “So he'll play the piano without any problems, right?” He asked, casting a look towards the subject of the conversation, who wasn't responding since they had reached the hospital- second time there, in not even a month. That sure meant something.

The nurse, a young woman with blonde hair up and a pair of purple glasses on the tip of her nose, nodded gently while preparing the mentioned brace for Keith's wrist, which was red and a bit swollen, but as the nurse had explained that was absolutely normal since he had fallen from a high height.

Skaters were disadvantaged indeed: a fall that seemed tolerable normally would become instead really dangerous when roller skates were involved, she had explained after the hasty report Lance had provided as soon as they had entered in the room.

“For the fever, I suggest you to take him home and put him in bed to rest. He needs lukewarm towels on the forehead and a lot of care- oh, and make him eat, he's very weak. But don't worry, nothing too serious. He'll heal quickly, okay?”

She put the brace on, securing the straps around the wrist to make it stable yet not excessively tight to avoid muscle rigidity, then she leaned a hand on Keith's forehead to control his temperature, moving back his hair. He didn't even wince from the touch.

It was strange seeing him unresponsive to whatever happened, but mostly sad and discouraging. Lance sighed, nodding.

“I'll do it. Thank you.”

The nurse kindly smiled and opened the door, patting Lance on the back before closing it again with a “Good night, boys.”

Keith was leaning against his body, supporting himself by the arm around Lance's shoulders. He would have lied if he said that proximity wasn't making him nervous, and a little hot, but that could be connected to Keith's warmness from the fever.

Trying to be positive, the sprain wrist was the left one, so the possibility Keith was right-handed was higher… but, with their luck, he likely had to be part of that 10% of left-handed people.

“Earth to Keith? Buddy, you there?” Lance muttered, trying to capture his attention without moving his face too close to the other guy's, in order to avoid awkward events. He wasn't really picturing a scene like that while walking in a hospital, you know.

Not- that he pictured it at all. Of course not.

Keith slowly blinked, keeping his eyes to the ground, but that was enough to understand he was listening.

“I was wondering, are you right-handed? Because, since it's the left one, at least you can write… and eat with a fork, and… uh, draw? Maybe use the mouse?” He looked around to find other things he could add to the list, but was met with only white walls and some wheelchairs.

Keith shook his head. Obviously, because the universe couldn't just take a pause from being an asshole, right?

“Okay, okay, but… uh, maybe you can still do things, it's the wrist, not the hand!”

It hurt to be positive when in reality he just felt guilty for what had happened. Seeing Keith so hopeless was really getting to him, no matter how much he tried to find the bright side.

The automatic doors of the entrance opened with a subtle swoosh and closed again. “Ambidextrous.”

Lance stopped right before the key of his car entered in the lock, turning to face Keith. “Sorry, what?”

He repeated, raising his voice. “I'm ambidextrous.”

“For real?!” Lance got excited, his jaw nearly dropping. “That's so cool, dude! I've never met an ambidextrous!” He finally opened the car and got to the passenger side to help Keith sit, while throwing himself in a useless rant about the only time he had met a left-handed and thought that was already rare. He then recalled Hunk could do some things with both hands, but not writing for instance, and finally wondered what he would do if he was ambidextrous- Keith huffed exasperatedly when the list started to get too sexual. At least he was listening.

The drive started in silence with Lance maneuvering to get out of the hospital's parking lot. Usually, when he went out with Hunk and Pidge, loud music of every genre played in the background, accompanied by the three of them singing at the top of their lungs, even “trashy songs”, as Pidge called them. Keith, however, didn't look in the mood to listen to eardrum-busting music, therefore silence so be it.

“Alright! I need you to be my personal sat nav, and guide me to your house. Can you do it?” Lance asked pulling over at a red traffic light. They were alone in the road.

When Keith's reply didn't arrive, he turned to check if he was still alive, finding him slightly tilted towards the window with his head resting against it. His eyes struggled to stay open.

“My head is killing me.” He finally managed to utter, “I can't… remember where it is.”

Perfect. Neither of them had an idea of where his house was located, and he couldn't even ask him to search the address on Google maps, who knows if he even remembered it, nor he could do it himself because he was driving… and he didn't know it.

He couldn't call their friends, he couldn't-

What he could do, though, was… going home.

Keith could sleep there.

In his bed… it was just a night and Lance could sleep on the floor with a pillow and some blankets.

He threw away the images of them sleeping together in the same bed. I'd rather throw myself out of the window.

“Okay, mullet. We're going to my apartment.” A sigh at the end of the sentence, to force his appeasement out in some way, felt unavoidable. He was screwed.

Although Keith appeared skinny, therefore easy to carry around, Lance soon discovered it was just an assumption based on his appearance, especially when he had to drag him from the parking lot to his apartment, that was on the second floor of the building- they were not too distant, usually, but when you had a dead weight to move while climbing the stairs, then history changed.

At first he refused to accept the only possible resolution to simplify things for both of them, being... – Lance sighed again at the thought – bridal carry.

There was no way he could handle it, mentally and physically.

Be damned the day when, searching for an apartment, they had chosen quantity versus quality, giving up the elevator to save money on older buildings without it. “Oh, it's nothing!” Lance had said. Yeah, Past Lance, it was nothing when you were alone and young and full of life, but lacking of passed out guys.

Approximately two seconds more were needed to abruptly stop in the middle of the hallway, nearly stumbling on the last step, find a way to keep Keith standing, hug his waist with one arm and his legs with the other, and finally lifting him up in a perfect cliché TV show manner. He could almost hear the typical “Friends” laughs from the public.

Lance struggled for a few minutes with the lock of his apartment, hoping Keith wouldn't fall from his arms, but they finally made it inside. He pushed the door with a foot to close it and went straight towards his bedroom.

Well, at least the situation wasn't as embarrassing as he initially thought, given the fact he was too busy focusing on five other things at the same time. He still somehow found the time to blush, thinking about his hands touching so intimately Keith's body, their skin separated by just a thin layer of clothes. He could slightly feel the shape of every rib in his side, not daring however to trace the outlines with his fingers.

After putting Keith in his bed – still clothed, obviously, this time there was really no way Lance could find the courage to undress him – he remembered the nurse's instructions to make him eat, since his body was so weak he struggled to stay awake. How could this boy be still alive, if he didn't even properly eat?!

Shiro. The only possible answer.

When Lance was little and sick, his mama would always prepare the infamous chicken soup that seemed basic and obvious, but something in that particular broth tasted so good he almost forgot he felt awful. Mama always found a way to make things positive, that was a trait Lance had inherited from her. Unfortunately, he wasn't gifted with the talent of preparing a perfect soup for ill people, but at least he knew the receipt. Keith had to appreciate the effort, okay?

Fifty minutes after the soup was ready. Fuck, he didn't remember this took so long- poor mama, she had to prepare it twice if not more in the weeks where he was ill. He had done it once and was already feeling exhausted. It had to taste good or else he didn't know what to do if not throwing away everything and give up.

Can't wait to have children. I'm gonna be a good dad.

The tasting test was, thank god, successful: nothing could compare to Mama Mcclain's original receipt, but it was close. He poured the broth in a bowl and brought it to Keith, who was still sleeping apparently. Lance took the chair from his desk and sat beside the bed, starting to mix the soup with the spoon while explaining the procedure in case “Keith wanted to replicate it”. He knew it was like doing a soliloquy, but he couldn't stand the silence.

The clock attached to the wall, papa's gift for his tenth birthday, sounded noisier than usual, probably because Lance was used to turn on the stereo and listen to whatever CD was in, so other sounds were automatically canceled. Now, instead, Keith's slow breath could be heard clearly.

“Don't tell me I have to feed you.” Lance murmured, exasperated. Okay the bridal carry, okay putting him in bed, okay the soup, but please, not feeding him! Universe, please?!

Ugh, whatever, he knew he would do it anyway.

Keith's temperature was a little high when Lance had measured it with the thermometer, so hopefully the lukewarm cloth he had put on his forehead was working. He lifted Keith's upper body, so he could rest on the headboard, and then, holding his breath as though he was defusing a bomb, he brought the spoon closer to his lips. “You would kill me if you were lucid, but you're not, so… say aaah, little baby.”

No one and nothing could deprive Keith from growling, not even a fever, but he still opened his mouth and drank the soup from the spoon, while Lance struggled to not stare at his lips- failing.

For once, silence didn't bother him as much.

It was relaxing to just sit there in tranquility, with no sounds other than the clock, the spoon sometimes clinking against the bowl, and the brief sound of Keith sipping from time to time.

A soft warm hand on his forehead.

Cozy blankets surrounding him like a loving hug.

The fond voice that lulled him while he was getting sleepy.

His mom would always spoil him when he felt sick, with caresses and tender cuddles, giving as much attention as he wanted even when it wasn't actually needed to help the process of healing from fevers, but just for childish selfishness. His mom didn't mind either way: she loved these moments between them, since Keith usually was more hesitant towards affective gestures.

He was a shy and introverted kid, but oh boy, was he sweet and kind. Mom and dad always teased him because he would get all red and embarrassed, complaining and shouting he hated to hear it- but, needless to precise, he secretly loved it.

They looked so proud of him while saying those words.

The bed where he was laying felt unknown, yet reminded him of home, sweet hugs and his parents. His stomach felt fuller than before, but he couldn't remember eating; at the same time, a blurry sequence of images of someone feeding him with a spoon floated within his mind.

Now, a hand was running through his hair, idly playing with the locks. Slender, soft fingers like his mom's, but not exactly hers.

He couldn't distinguish memories from the reality.

And honestly, the soothing sensations in his chest and head felt so good he couldn't bring himself to care. It was like being a naive child again, indulging a little too much in attentions, but loving every second of it.

His mom also liked to hold his hand, stroking his skin with her thumb while singing lullabies. It was one of the most effective ways to make him sleep.

Reality or not, he felt those fingers again, holding his hand while softly caressing it. And as the fond voice started to hum in a foreign language he knew but couldn't recognize at the moment, Keith closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He felt the same love of many years ago.

Keith's fever started to rise a little after he finished the soup and went to sleep again. By his squinted eyes and the involuntary moans that escaped from his lips, he was having a nightmare. And a really bad one, since he was also fussing and sometimes a bolt abruptly shook his entire body.

Lance reached his forehead to feel the temperature, and Keith melted at the touch right in that moment, letting out a calm breath. When he whispered “Mom...”, it was clear he wasn't having a nightmare, but a flashback from his childhood. Lance felt like an intruder and almost had the urge to look away: he knew Keith didn't like to be seen vulnerable even for simple things, much less for memories about his parents- a topic that, in theory, Lance didn't know about.

On one side he wanted to damn Shiro for telling him the truth about Keith's past; on the other side, though, he was glad he had done it, because if Lance felt in distress now knowing, he couldn't even imagine how hard it would have been otherwise.

Just looking at Keith's pucker face, shaking body and labored breath while he continuously muttered “Mom”, Lance felt his heart in his throat. He wanted to be able to understand the same pain, to support him through it, but he knew he couldn't: it was something that, if not experienced, couldn't be totally understood by others, no matter how many times someone would say “I'm here for you, I understand”.

And Lance felt useless, almost guilty to be luckier than Keith, to have both parents, alive and happy, not worrying about the life of who wasn't as fortunate. Things like that always opened his eyes to a part of the world he had ignored before: this time he wanted to be a better person, learning from his mistakes and his lacks, being able to understand people or at least understand he couldn't always do that, but instead he could be there for them.

Before even realizing it, he reached Keith's hair with his hand and started to stroke it as lightly as he could, to avoid waking him up. He knew for sure, without seeing himself, a fond smile was decorating his face while he touched the black strands which somehow managed to remain soft and clean, albeit his forehead was coated by a thin veil of sweat- Lance had decided to peel off the lukewarm cloth to prevent its fall on the sheets, since Keith was constantly writhing and shaking his face.

Lance, allowing himself to be selfish just because he was alone and Keith wasn't clearheaded, liked to think that his vicinity could really help: every time he talked or touched Keith, he would slightly relax his body and his expression, like in that moment. As soon as his fingers had started to caress his hair, Keith had stopped struggling, his eyebrows raised and not pinched anymore, his pouty lips becoming a thin line, his hands not clenching the blankets but just laying at his sides.

So… Lance indulged a little more in the touch, exploring the wild fringe that always covered those dark eyes, twirling a lock around his finger, – no split ends, how?! – then moving down, where his ears stuck out in the middle of the mess his sideburns were.

Could he dare?

What if Keith woke up and found Lance touching his ears like a fucking creep?

Not able to stop himself before brooding any longer, he attempted a single gentle brush of his fingers, and as expected, the skin was smooth and tender as he imagined just by looking.

If his ears were like that, how about… his face?

Lance had never been this free to touch Keith in an intimate manner before. He could literally… satisfy the question he always had in his mind when he observed him from a distance.

How do his lips feel like?

Oh no, bad Lance. Not going in that area.

Keith was sleeping, calm and vulnerable, and Lance was not going to steal his precious rest just to fulfill a desire of useless knowledge- he could never use that information after gathering it, it was not like he would have a chance to feel them other than… with his fingers, that one time.

So what was the point?

Plus Keith was ill and likely contagious. Case closed.

That, until Lance felt a shift against his hand, still ventured through Keith's hair, and found the latter leaning towards that same hand, his body a little tilted as well, as though he wanted to receive all the cuddles he could.

His heart skipped a beat.

“I hate you, Kogane.” Lance muttered, sighing. “But... you're so gorgeous it hurts.”

His thumb began to stroke the softer flesh under Keith's eyes, while the other fingers idly scratched his cheeks, slow and careful as though Lance wanted to enjoy every little moment of that pleasure he had been granted with, not sure if that possibility would have ever come again in the future. Probably not.

His little brother Tomàs, since he was little, had always suffered of insomnia, sometimes even bursting in tears in the middle of the night because of the exhaustion he had to deal with at such young age. Later on, his family found that the only way Tomy could rest was if Lance stayed by his bed, caressing him while talking sweetly or singing in Spanish, until he would fall asleep. He didn't know why, but apparently people found his touch to be extremely gentle and relaxing, to the point they all risked to take a nap in the middle of the day. Even Pidge, who usually didn't like constant affections and cuddles, sometimes asked Lance to stroke her hair when she needed to free her mind for once after all the work she had done, or just to relax with her friends.

Keith, in Lance's eyes, had seemed the only exception to this strange magic. But he was wrong, and honestly, he didn't care if it meant that even the moody guy had weak points.

Lance... deserved a prize for this victory, right?

Looking around as though he was afraid to be caught right before he committed his little crime, he finally moved his thumb towards Keith's lips. Bit by bit, cautiously, so slow that even his head was screaming “Just do it!” in an angry Shia LaBeouf voice, and finally he reached them.

One of them, or maybe both, shuddered.

No, that boy didn't use chapstick, 100% sure. So how the hell his lips still managed to look and now feel soft, Lance couldn't explain. There were just some insignificant dry patches here and there, but the overall was unbelievably addicting to touch and feel with the pad of the finger.

How would they feel… on my lips?

Lance suddenly jerked out of his thoughts, summing up once again the list of reasons why he shouldn't do that: he's sleeping, he's ill, he's not consensual.

His cheeks were burning along with the rest of his body, his heart jack-hammering against his chest, his mind going wild and pleading him to act, but he couldn't.

Not without Keith knowing. There was no point.

A wet feeling on his finger recalled him from his internal struggle.

Unfortunately, in a bad way.

Lone tears were streaming down Keith's face, not like a waterfall as Lance's – and Hunk, that guy had, like, all the water of the world enclosed within his body – but more in a Keith way, subtle and silent like him, trying to not capture attention but doing it anyway.

Keith… had so much inside.

So much to be discovered, but difficult to be found on the surface.

And Lance craved to dig deeper.

“Hey, hey… calm down, it's okay Keithy.” He put both hands at the side of his face, caressing him in circular motions with his thumbs, trying to get rid of the tears on it. “I'm here.”

Keith let out a low groan, painful to listen to.

“Mom…”

Lance snorted fondly. “Well, I like to be called daddy usually, but with you, I don't mind.” No response, obviously. He thought for a few seconds, clearing his throat and passing a hand through his own hair. “I'm- I'm joking. No one calls me like that.”

He shook his head, perplexed by himself.

Why am I justifying myself if he's not even conscious?

Keith sighed again and tried to reach him with his hurt hand, his fingers motionless as he could not move them well after the trauma. Lance quickly reacted, taking it in his as softly as he could, starting to caress it like he was doing with his face. The flesh of the hand was reddened and swollen, but the wrist was steady thanks to the brace that hugged it.

Lance forced himself to be optimistic, finding little positive things to latch onto – “at least he's okay, at least his wrist will heal well with that brace” – but he knew he couldn't hope Keith wasn't suffering at all, judging by the pain written all over his features and by his tears that unfortunately probably didn't include just the nostalgia for the memories of his mother.

And, knowing Keith not perfectly but well enough, his mind was likely going from “I'll waist time while I recover” to “I won't be able to play ever again”. The fear that Lance shared, but couldn't fully experience on his skin. So the only thing he could do, was stay by his side and be supportive.

He held Keith's hand to his heart, closing his eyes.

As an unconscious reflex from the times Tomy couldn't sleep, a Spanish lullaby began to vibrate in his throat, low and soft. Lance hummed the words rhythmically, slightly swinging from left to right like he was carrying a sleepy infant in his arms.

He stopped for just a moment, the urge of letting out his thoughts too strong to resist.

“I wish… I could take this burden from you.”

A buzz next to him.

Two more minutes, mama, please…

The buzz insisted, sounding more stubborn, until his phone hit his arm by shaking so much.

His phone… wait!

Lance abruptly woke up gasping, looking around to see his bedroom like he left it before, Keith still there sleeping, their hands intertwined.

So it wasn't a dream…

He grabbed his phone and saw two notifications of missed calls, and an incoming one right in that moment, from Pidge. How many hours had passed since they had left the skating rink? Checking again, he saw the little white envelope mark on the left side of the screen, signaling the who knows how many unread messages that were silenced unlike the calls, fortunately: another missed one and Pidge would have killed him.

Was he sleeping so heavily he hadn't even heard the first buzzes?

“Pidgeon, ay yo!” He replied after sliding the index finger on the screen, trying to sound happy and cool but cringing at his own tone, outstretched words and voice strained. Additionally, he couldn't talk loud since Keith was sleeping. “What's up?”

On the other end, a familiar groan welcomed him, four more voices following after, asking what had happened at the same time. Lance recognized Shiro, Allura, Coran and Hunk, but they were quickly quietened by Pidge with a brief “Shh!”.

“Lance, where are you?! Why are you whispering?” She asked without waiting for the response. “I read your messages one hour ago and you're still not here! What the hell did Keith forget at home, the fucking United States?”

Shiro tried to reprimand her for the bad language, but he knew it was a lost case from the start. Lance could practically see him pinching his nose with two fingers, shaking his head hopelessly.

Lance hesitated, humming. In front of all of them, he couldn't just lie again… it was obvious that the whole “Keith forgot something” was an excuse and something else had happened- and honestly, he understood their concern not knowing the reality.

The only thing left to do, therefore, was explaining. Maybe for now, since Shiro was listening as well, it was best to leave aside the part where Keith had sprained his wrist falling.

“Uh, yeah… well, it's a funny story, you know!” Despite his casual attitude his voice failed to seem relaxed, dying in his throat without too much effort.

Hunk's distressed voice sounded closer to the receiver. “Lance? Are you okay?” He asked, needless to add anything to be understood by his best friend.

Lance sighed and finally put aside his cheerful facade, letting out all his anxiety that had been hidden until that moment in order to focus only on Keith's health. He hadn't even realized how nervous he was about the situation.

“Guys, listen, it's nothing too serious, but Keith…” A quick glance to the sleep beauty in his bed. Lips slightly parted, steady and slow breathing that lifted and lowered his chest regularly. “Keith has a high fever. He wasn't feeling well, so I brought him home and now he's sleeping. I didn't want to worry you.”

If it hadn't been for the white noise of the call, there would have been absolute silence for a few seconds. Lance almost checked if the line had gone dead. Then, Shiro probably took the phone from Pidge's hands to be heard more clearly.

“Lance, thank you for taking care of Keith. I knew there was something wrong, but… we all know how Keith is, I can't insist too much or he'll yell at me.” A snort that seemed a sour laugh. “But, thank you, really. I'm coming home.”

Oh, Shiro, wait to hear this.

“Yeah, uhh… The problem is- Keith and I are in my home. He couldn't remember where yours was.”

He normally hated silence, but this was even worse: Hunk and Pidge, needless to say, were surely giggling under their breath imagining how Lance was feeling being alone with Keith. He had to hope Shiro, Allura and Coran had no idea why, not even a remote suspect about the reason of their laughs, because he really didn't need other people to remember him he was pining hard.

Shiro was too busy concerning about his little brother to concentrate on Lance's feelings, thankfully. “I'm sorry you had to do so much, ugh… I hate to ask you this, but can Keith sleep there for tonight? I'll come pick him tomorrow morning.”

Problems with having the possibility to look – and maybe touch again – that adorable sleepy face for the rest of the night, holding hands while napping? Don't ask him twice.

“There's no problem for us,” Pidge interjected, “The only thing is this genius took our car.”

Oooh, right. Lance totally forgot they only had a car to come back home, and he had taken it without thinking about it, since Keith was literally dying on the floor. Even knowing just a part of the full truth, – being Keith with a fever – at least they could forgive Lance for the oversight. I mean, c'mon, what else could he have done? Walk all the way home with Keith on his shoulders?

Speaking of truth… they would find out what had happened, eventually: Keith had a brace on his wrist, they just had to put two and two together. Lance wondered if it would have been better to say it now to get it off of his chest- one problem less, right?

But… Keith didn't want them to know yet. Lance couldn't decide for him just because it looked like the best solution in his eyes. That night was already heavy and stressful, Keith didn't need another weight to bear- especially if that weight was the worry of their friends and Shiro.

The current problem, however, still remained: the skating rink was too far away from home, and Hunk and Pidge couldn't just walk in the middle of the night. Lance felt a little guilty. No matter how much he tried to resolve things without involving other people, troubles would always come up and ruin his plans.

Allura, then, voiced her thoughts. “If I remember correctly, Coran and I live in the same zone of the city as you, while Shiro is on the opposite part. We can take you home, right Coran?”

He had even managed to bother Coran and Allura, great. Someone else? That bored guy at the counter that rented skates wanted to help too? The entire world, why not?!

“Sorry guys. I didn't think I would cause all of this.”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lower lip, realizing he had talked out loud and not just thought those words. Instinctively, his hand squeezed Keith's, searching for emotional support.

“Lance, stop it. You helped Keith and that's what matters, okay? Don't be a emo, we already have one. We're coming home.” Pidge successfully lifted his mood, even making him snicker. He agreed, not quite convinced, but still trying to be for the sake of their friends already worrying for Keith, and then said goodbye.

All his friends said goodnight before she hung up, leaving Lance with a lighter heart.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he noticed it was late and he still hadn't prepared his handcrafted bed on the cold floor, in the living room... alone in the dark and the silence… away from Keith.

Ngh. Why am I even disappointed?

He stood up growling and already complaining about the temperature in the other room – not even knowing if it was actually freezing as he was thinking – when something forced him to stop, slightly jerking back towards the bed.

Keith was holding his hand, not pulling in any way, but their hands were intertwined so Lance couldn't just proceed to walk away without freeing himself first. An idea that… didn't sound really inviting. Despite this, Lance swallowed the bitter pill and tried to separate their fingers, thinking that Keith was probably still unconscious, therefore his actions were not lucid.

Instead, Keith tightened his grip.

Only in that moment Lance realized he was staring at him, tired dark eyes sharp as a knife.

“Please… don't go.”

The pill was so bitter Lance almost made a face trying to drown the dismay he was feeling- but he couldn't transmit it to the just-woken-up feverish boy who needed attention and positivity. He inhaled slowly to steady himself and then, “Hey, you grumpy! You woke up, finally. How are you feeling?” He asked, getting close but not enough to surrender at the desire of just sitting down again, hold hands and caress Keith's face through the entire night.

The pouty boy fixed his posture in order for his upper body to be leaning against the headboard, and cast an unreadable glance towards him. He simply shrugged as a response.

“The others found out, hah, I guess we had to expect it, right? Oh well, I didn't say anything regarding…” Lance gestured awkwardly pointing at Keith's hand, “That, but I explained you had a fever… so you're sleeping here for tonight. If- that's okay for you, I mean. I'll sleep in the other room.”

Stop rambling. Just go. Now.

“I was listening.” Keith murmured, suddenly looking everywhere except Lance. He was kneading the blanket with his hands, resembling a black cat. “Thanks for all. It's not… your fault if this happened, but mine. Don't take the blame.”

Lance tried to use all his strength to suppress his genuine reaction – his eyebrows wanted to reach his hairline, his eyes to widen so much they could fall, his mouth to open, speechless – and to just smile sheepishly and go away, but… it seemed impossible when Keith was staring at him like a curios owl, his cheeks sprayed with a gentle pink, waiting and hoping for something more.

What was happening in that room between them, Lance could not explain. And maybe, he preferred not to have a logic explanation and just give up on understanding. Just… enjoy for once.

Like every single time, what the hell? Lance wasn't an extremely cautious type of guy, he loved to have fun with no matter who, when and in which circumstances- of course safety and consent were important, but… fun was too. There wasn't anything wrong with just loosen up at parties, at work with pretty clients – when Greg wasn't watching – or things like that, because no commitment was mandatory, no future had to be promised, no eternal bonds were created. Lance wanted to explore and experience while waiting for his rightful person.

So why, why was it so difficult to let himself go with Keith? Why was he so scared to even touch him a little, feeling even guilty?

Deep down, the reply was already there.

Lance just… couldn't accept it. Couldn't listen to it.

But, that didn't mean he couldn't try to behave like with every other flirt he had, especially when the guy was Keith, someone who seemed out of his league. Who knows how long that atmosphere between them would have lasted.

“No problem man. Now try to sleep, okay? I'll be in the living room if you need anything.”

Who was he kidding… Lance, for some reasons, couldn't bring himself to treat Keith like a normal person he was flirting with.

He just had to take his phone, turn back, walk outside the room and that would have been the “end”, for now.

“W-Wait, Lance.”

Apparently, the end was still far away.

He turned scratching the back of his neck awkwardly while averting his gaze, failing to look directly towards Keith with the fear of being swallowed again in the whirlpool of his stupid doubts about how pretty the boy in question appeared in every situation and why he couldn't resist to him.

“Please, stay here. With me.”

Lance inhaled, sharply and loudly. He closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, almost feeling incredulous. The Universe had a lot of time to waste tonight if it was really putting effort in messing up every plan Lance tried to make.

Keith threw a last pleading look, puffy narrowed eyes and furrowed brows that made him look like a puppy.

Lance had never seen him making that expression. The fever was definitely still affecting him, there was no way he could have acted like that with a lucid mind. If there had been Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, even Coran, Keith would have probably done the same, just to have someone to keep him company. Maybe he was scared of the dark? Understandable, Lance had to sleep with a soft light at night because who knows which monsters hid in the corners of his room- Pidge always made fun of him for this, but he preferred to be safe rather than just say “oh, monsters don't exist”. Pidge would have been the first to be eaten alive, so screw her.

Repeating the same spiel like a mantra in order to convince himself, – “it's nothing special, he's just really ill, everything will return to normal tomorrow” – Lance finally plunged on the chair and fixed the position of their hands that hadn't separated for not even a second, like they were attached with glue. Against all odds, at least, he had received the chance to admire their fingers intertwined again- and as he remembered, they looked perfect together, made for each other.

“What if...” Keith talked again, his voice almost a whisper. Lance's head shot up, surprised to hear him so suddenly. “What if something goes wrong and… I can't play the piano?”

Yeah, as expected, that was his concern. Lance shook his head and squeezed Keith's hand to reassure him. “Nothing will go wrong. The nurse was positive your hand will heal quickly.”

The other didn't appear convinced, as though he was so used to life double-crossing him he couldn't even trust a medical opinion, but didn't say anything for a few minutes. Despite his silence, Lance knew he wanted to add something else, he could see it from the way he was torturing his lips staring at a random point.

“Hey.” Keith stopped chewing his lip and turned to look at Lance, finding a fond smile on his face. “I can hear your brain working from here. C'mon, what's up?”

A bitter ache in his chest.

Keith had clearly some tears in the borders of his eyes, but was stifling them to not appear vulnerable. It was very, very discouraging to see someone Lance believed was careless and invincible suffering for something that appeared easily solvable, like a hurting wrist. Keith's life really depended on few things, and if those trembled a little, he risked to plummet into a void Lance didn't even want to imagine. In some ways, this made Keith look stronger than before: he had survived a lot. But, in Lance's opinion, sometimes he needed to give himself a rest.

To cry not feeling miserable, to suffer, to let himself be human.

“If I can't play the piano… I'm useless. What-what else can I do other than that?” Keith uttered, voice trembling.

Lance didn't even need to think, to reflect on what to say. He just let out his thoughts, fixating his eyes on Keith and making sure he reciprocated the look. With a resolute tone, but somehow kind, he said: “Keith, listen. You don't have to do something every day of your life to be useful. In fact, you don't have to be useful. Give yourself time to relax, alright? Everything will be fine. I promise.”

Keith's cheeks reddened, and his eyes widened a little, along with his mouth. He stared at him strangely… smitten. After a few seconds, he recovered and smirked, teasingly. “Didn't expect you to be so wise.”

Lance stuck his tongue out but giggled right after, putting a hand on his chest to look fierce. “Told you I'm a man of many talents.” He added a wink, just to bring his common goofiness back, making things lighter. Keith seemed to appreciate, his smile growing wider, his eyes not watery anymore.

“Thanks, Lance.” He muttered finally, fixing his gaze down again. His skin was flushed and he looked embarrassed, but in an extremely cute way. “I mean it.”

Lance nodded, stroking his thumb against Keith's knuckle while maintaining eye contact. “I know. Now sleep.”

“Okay.” Lance was making himself more comfortable on the chair, leaning on the backrest, when Keith cleared his throat. “Uh- you don't have to sleep here on the chair, if it makes you uneasy. You can… go, when I'm asleep.”

He nodded again, a warm and soothing feeling spreading in his chest like a blossoming flower. Lance smiled and blushed, making sure the fact that Keith cared about his comfort cemented in his mind like an eternal sweet memory.

And as he stared at Keith's sheepish smile and drowsy expression while he struggled to stay awake, caressing his hand gently and playing with their fingers, fighting against his tiredness as well but slowly giving up, Lance found that letting himself go with Keith for once… wasn't that bad.

When Pidge and Hunk opened the door of their home, finally throwing themselves on the couch exhausted, Lance and Keith were already sleeping for quite some time.

Pidge, checking them before going to bed, huffed from the door.

Lance sure looked comfortable for sleeping on a chair.

Chapter Text

Pidge's morning routine was pretty much the same, every day. Sure, now that it was summer, meaning she didn't have to go to school, she slept a little more – especially if she stayed up all night – and had a richer breakfast, but she still did the same things: stay in bed yawning, go to the bathroom, turn on the computer, have breakfast and chat with Hunk and Lance for a bit.

Instead of going to school, currently, she just played videogames or watched the TV while complaining about the hot temperature that made her sweat like crazy. That was it, more or less.

That morning instead was really different.

First, as soon as she opened her eyes, she remembered what had happened the night before: they had been to the skating rink all together and Lance and Keith had disappeared suddenly for one hour saying that “Keith forgot something at home”, making Hunk and Pidge very suspicious from the beginning.

Not that there was something wrong if they wanted to…. have fun in private, but at least Lance could have informed them. Also, those two looked exasperatingly unable of understanding they were both pining, so it had been a surprise to finally see them act, but a good one indeed.

When Lance, however, answered the phone explaining the truth, aka “Keith has a fever”, Pidge was kind of disappointed nothing had really happened between them, but glad to know that Lance was there to help their friend- even if Keith deserved a punch in the face for always omit important things like his fucking health.

The best part of the night for Pidge, if someone asked her, was certainly, without a trace of doubt, the end: Hunk and Pidge had come back from the skating rink exhausted and ready to hit the pillow with their head, but nothing could stop them from checking Lance's bedroom… just a look to check how Keith was.

“I already walked on Lance doing… stuff, and it was not pleasant, so you go ahead. But don't look, I don't want you to be scarred for life.” Hunk had whispered, but still following Pidge staying a little behind, already covering one eye with his hand- the curiosity was too strong to remain on the couch.

She had huffed and moved Hunk's hand from his face. “Hunk, Keith is ill. I don't think they're doing anything.” Despite her words, she still had leaned her ear against the door and listened carefully for any ambiguous sounds. When she had heard only silence in response, she had slowly pushed the door and peeked, finding something unexpected: Lance was sitting on a chair next to the bed, leaning on it with half of his bust, while Keith was sleeping peacefully, covered in multiple blankets. Between them, their hands were intertwined.

Pidge had shaken her head, incredulous. “Gross.” She had muttered, but a soft smile was plastered on her face: she felt proud for the dumb boys, even if it was just a tiny tiny step towards something remotely close to some sort of a future relationship.

Hunk had finally found the courage to look, and as soon as he had seen the cute scene, he had released a long “Awww!”, clasping his hands together at the height of his chin.

“You know what we have to do, right?” Pidge had asked, a knowing grin growing wider as Hunk had nodded and reciprocated the malicious expression, taking out his phone from his pocket. Click.

Hunk had stifled his giggles leaning towards Pidge to show her the screen. “Lance is gonna kill us if he finds out.”

“If he finds out. Being never.” There was no worry in Pidge's voice while she admired the photo just taken. Without mercy, she had seized Hunk's phone to send it to Shiro with the caption: “Don't worry, Keith is in good hands.”

“Pidge! That was-” Hunk had started to hush, already panicking, when something, or rather someone, interrupted him.

“Guys?”

They had almost had a heart attack hearing a weak voice from the bedroom. Checking the source of it, they had found out Keith was awake and had heard them- hopefully not their comments on… the whole “hand in hand” situation. He looked sleepy and still out of it, so maybe he had just heard their voices without understanding what they were saying.

“Sorry, we're just checking you. Is everything- what the fuck, Keith!”

Pidge had made a beeline towards the bed in order to not talk too loud risking to wake up Lance – even if he was a heavy sleeper – when she had noticed the brace hugging Keith's hand, partially covered by Lance's, but not enough to be unseen.

Keith had sighed, sheepish smile and shoulders hunched, and tried to explain what had happened, pleading them to not say anything to Shiro, at least for that night.

Speaking of, his older brother had sent a message in the group chat a second after Keith's request, as if he had sensed they were talking about him. He had written “I will pick Keith tomorrow at 9, if that's okay. Thanks again Lance”, simple words that in some way still managed to let on his concern, but no one commented.

So Pidge, being the good Samaritan as always, had set her own alarm at 8 in order to wake up Keith and Lance before Shiro's arrival. She imagined they certainly wouldn't appreciate being found by him in the same bedroom while holding hands- knowing them they would have died for the embarrassment. Sure, that scenario was tempting and really fun just to think about, but c'mon, she wasn't that evil.

First thing different for Pidge, therefore, the early awakening.

Second thing? Going to Lance's room, with also Keith inside it, knocking to advert them but entering right after without waiting and turning on the light, just to speed up the process. (She was hungry and sweaty, so no time to waste.)

The two boys groaned in unison, stretching their limbs while rubbing their eyes to wake themselves up. Pidge was ready to see their reaction, hoping they had forgotten everything during the night- especially Keith, if he was still feverish. Lance yawned loudly and straightened his arm in the air, his bones popping one by one, but kept his eyes closed. Needless to say, his other hand was still holding Keith's. “Piiiidge. 'Morning.”

The other, instead, was more silent in stretching, but after a yawn he murmured “Good morning”, slowly observing his surroundings as though he was trying to remember where he was.

“Hi guys. Shiro is coming.”

Too harsh? Oh well. They were boring.

At first, silence. Lance remained still, his narrowed eyes staring at a random point on the pavement, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a little pout. Pidge could almost see the gears working in his brain. Keith recognized the name, obviously, but he couldn't figure out why on earth his brother was… coming? Where?

Then, something clicked.

Their gazes simultaneously lowered on their hands, then up to their faces, then down again, and lastly up, eyes widening more and more while every moment of the night before replayed in their minds, Shiro arriving at Lance's house finally having a sense in all of this. Their faces became red so suddenly that Pidge worried Keith was seriously ill again and Lance had been infected as well.

But no, they just startled abruptly – Lance nearly falling from the chair – shrieking at the same time, jerking back their hands while looking at each other as though they were both seeing a ghost. Pidge stifled a laugh with her hand on her mouth, leaning on the door. That was the show she was waiting, finally.

After they recollected himself, clearing their throats awkwardly and avoiding meeting the other's eyes, Lance finally exclaimed a bit too loud, scratching the back of his neck: “W-well! I'm going to have breakfast!” to then proceed to get out of the room as quick as possible, leaving Keith and Pidge alone.

The boy cleared his throat for the hundredth time, clearly feeling uneasy staying there in the bed doing nothing after the ridiculous reaction with Lance, but looking like he wanted to say something.

“Uh- anyway,” He uttered finally, voice low and trembling, “Thanks.”

Pidge just smiled and winked knowingly: despite Keith hadn't specified, she understood he was thanking her for both the night before and her effort to wake them up in advance. Understanding his way of expressing his own feelings was becoming easier, over time. She learned that a lot of things had to be interpreted.

Moving her arm as an invitation to follow her in the kitchen and possibly have breakfast, a thought popped up in her mind. Did Lance feed him yesterday? Oh god, that was a scene Pidge regretted losing. And what a good photo to add in her soon-to-be-made scrapbook of embarrassing photos of Keith and Lance. A delight to show it at their wedding.

By the time they arrived in the kitchen, breakfast was waiting them on the table, with Hunk and Lance already seated while chatting animatedly about what had happened at the skating rink- the bigger guy almost knocked down a bottle of milk as he was laughing and swinging his arms too much, describing in details how Shiro had fallen on his ass to the ground trying to follow Allura, nearly running over a child who, for his part, terrified by the older and much taller man, caused a chain reaction among all his friends that looked like pins hit by a bowling ball. Lance was supporting himself with a hand on the table, giggling and wiping off tears from his eyes. Pidge threw a brief look towards Keith, finding a fond smile on his face reserved for the boy who was now chocking on the milk he had just drank as a consequence of Hunk repeating “pins children” in a husky voice.

Man, Keith had to be really invested in this crush to consider Lance attractive even with milk drool at the sides of his mouth…

Finally, the two acknowledged Keith and Pidge's presence- well, Hunk did, while Lance glanced at the girl, smiling sheepishly, to then slowly turn and lower his gaze, avoiding the other guy's eyes, a subtle shade of pink on his cheeks. “Keith! How are you? Did you sleep well?”

“Kind of,” Keith replied hinting a shy smile, hand idly scratching the back of his neck, “I feel better, thanks.”

“Good.” Hunk nodded relieved, smiling back with more confidence. He took a sip from the yellow mug, humming contentedly.

Pidge, in the meantime, briefly glanced at the clock as she walked and sat at the table, grabbing a mug and the milk. She invited Keith to enjoy them with a hint of her head towards the empty chair beside her. “Oh, it's almost 8:30. Shiro'll be here in half an hour. Or, knowing him, in a few minutes.”

“Can't wait to tease him with the pins children.” Hunk commented, sharing a knowing grin with Lance, who snickered a moment after. When he found something funny, he laughed remembering it for like, at least three weeks. The deadly combo was when that something had happened with Matt: the weeks usually transformed in months.

The real matter, though, lingered in the air, thick and heavy, but no one wanted to address it for fear. They all looked at each other, Hunk worried with his eyebrows furrowed, Pidge with her nose scrunched and her fingers fidgeting with the handle of the mug, Lance indulging a little before finally raising his eyes to meet Keith's. That was the first time he looked at him after their embarrassment, and although the hesitance was present, Pidge could also see a little spark of decisiveness in his gaze. When he wanted, Lance could be really mature. Emphasize on “when”.

Nevertheless, him addressing the matter seemed right after all, being the person who had been there for Keith the most, that in some way could comprehend the whole situation the most.

“What are you going to say?”

No need to specify. The worried expression Keith made as soon as he thought about it was enough to know he had understood. Pidge thought, and was sure Lance and Hunk did too, that his real concern was disappointing Shiro rather than make him mad. Delusion was worse than anger, because it meant the person who had put his hope in you would lose it and be hurt. Shiro trusted him and had worked hard to transmit his passion for the piano to Keith, and because of his carelessness, the latter had put his own career in danger.

At least, this was what Keith was thinking for sure. In reality, Pidge could assure him nothing similar was going to go through Shiro's mind: now, he was just really worried about his little brother being ill- and later on, finding out about the incident, Shiro was still not going to think bad of him, because Keith was okay, and that was all that mattered. Sure, no one could take a good reprimand away from him, but that was a standard for Shiro, – and for Keith to receive them – so nothing was going to be out of the ordinary.

“I… don't know.” The boy rubbed both hands on his biceps as he trembled slightly. “I guess we'll see.”

Pidge bit into a chocolate cookie and smiled at him reassuringly, wiping off the crumbles at the sides of her mouth. She nearly chocked when a blue blanket fell on Keith's shoulders, making him wince, terrified. When he turned to see behind himself, Lance was standing looking elsewhere with an annoyed pout, eyebrows furrowed, crossed arms and pinkish cheeks. He muttered something on the lines of “Here. Take this”, and then proceeded to sit again as though nothing had happened, however still embarrassed and unable to hide it.

Before Keith could respond out loud, – since the blush on his cheeks was already enough as a physical reaction – the doorbell interrupted him. Terror shook his features for a second before returning impassive in his silence, sat still without having touched milk nor food. He looked so small tightly wrapped in the blanket, vulnerable as a child.

Hunk hesitantly stood up, fixating his eyes on him while reaching the door knob with a hand. As soon as he opened, his preoccupied expression changed and turned in a happy one seeing his friend's tired face. “Hi Shiro! How's it going?”

He nodded after quickly replying while entering in the house, waving his left hand towards everyone else in the kitchen. Hunk stepped back to let him pass, then closed the door inhaling and exhaling loudly as if he could release the nervousness in a breath.

“Hey guys.” Takashi stared at Keith for a few seconds before smiling fondly, “How are you feeling?” He asked cautiously, voice low as though he was afraid to exaggerate with his concerned-big-brother vibes.

Keith startled hearing his voice but tried to hide it, simply nodding and hinting a smile that wasn't quite convincing, but it could have been connected to his physical status of the moment. However, Shiro could read him like a book, and even though that behavior could have appeared normal for others, for him it was a clear sign that something was wrong: without indulging, he made a bee line towards his little brother, slowing down just when he finally reached Keith, who was still on the chair, wrapped in the blanket that was now his only anchor. “Are you sure?”

Keith strongly nodded again, frown deepening, but he involuntarily averted his gaze when Shiro lowered his torso to look him in the eyes. That was honestly a cheap shot, everyone knew Keith couldn't resist to the infamous “Piercing Stare” for a long time before blurting out the truth.

Then, as Shiro was about to touch Keith's hurt hand, hid by the blue blanket fortunately, a lot of things happened at once: the raven-haired boy jerked back abruptly, clutching himself tighter, Hunk and Pidge both flinched, while Lance stood up and exclaimed, without even thinking: “W-wait, Shiro!”

The above-mentioned almost had a heart attack, and felt so in danger he raised both hands as if he had been under arrest for a crime. His expression was terrified and his eyes darted from one person to another, trying to understand what was going on.

Lance hesitated and fidgeted with the border of his shirt for a little while until he finally found the right words- that, however, didn't mean he wasn't going to rant and stumble various times.

“Please, don't be mad with Keith, it's my fault! I asked him to do a stupid challenge even if he wasn't feeling well, I shouldn't have done it but- ugh, you know sometimes I don't think before I speak, but I swear it wasn't my intention to ruin everything! If you have to be angry, please take it out on me.”

Shiro, if possible, looked even more confused. He seemed to have forgotten his hands were still up, so he lowered them in that moment, remaining still on guard. “Lance- what are you talking about?!”

The other boy furrowed his eyebrows humming for a few seconds. “Oh...” He muttered, tapping an index finger on his chin, “I guess I should have talked after-… you know what, I'm gonna zip it.”

Shiro stared at him a moment more before moving his eyes back on Keith, who was now staring at Lance with a strange expression- halfway between confused and smitten, almost mentioning a small sweet smile.

“Well?”

There was no point in avoiding the truth, continuing the bad-acted farce. Keith loudly sighed, shoulders raising and hunching along, and then let go the borders of the blanket to make it fall on the backrest of the chair, revealing the brace on his wrist.

Shiro gasped as soon as he noticed it.

“Basically- I fell and hurt my wrist,” He started to explain, rubbing the brace absent-mindedly with his other hand, “B-but! It's nothing too serious, I swear. It'll heal quickly, the doctor said.”

Silence.

“The doctor?”

Keith nodded cautiously. “We… Lance took me to the hospital.”

The aforementioned winced and immediately looked down as if he felt guilty for his actions. Pidge could see his tension in the way he was clenching his fists at the sides of his body, his pupils almost shaking. “Uh- I guess now my speech makes… more sense.”

Shiro stared at him for a little longer, still confused, his examiner eyes narrowed, but there was no anger- especially when he huffed smiling, shaking his head incredulously: he reached Lance's shoulder, whose head jerked up, shock written all over his face, and shortly laughed, “Lance, thank you again, I didn't even know you did so much for Keith, really.” He said.

The younger boy visibly relaxed, his body almost melting under Shiro's gentle touch, and then nodded more confidently. “No problem, as I said- it also was my fault.”

Shiro turned back towards Keith, his hand squeezing Lance's shoulder before he walked away to reach his brother. He crossed his arms across his chest. “Don't worry, I know how Keith is. It's no one fault- although, usually, people warn their friends if they don't feel well.”

Keith sighed but nodded to agree, silently apologizing for all the troubles he had caused. As soon as he did, Shiro simply smiled contentedly, in some way looking relieved to have seen Keith was okay and nothing worse had happened.

While the latter struggled to put his shoes on with just one hand, sit on the couch, Shiro reached the doorknob without rotating it and said, “Well, sorry for the disturb, and also, Lance, thanks for having guarded on Keith during the night.” He added as an afterthought a moment later, adding a grin at the end.

Lance reciprocated the smile, already preparing a joke about how Keith snored and moved in the bed, or how the chair was uncomfortable so he deserved an award for “best sleep buddy of the year”, while Keith huffed and smirked shyly towards him, when they both froze in place, as if their minds had united the pieces of the puzzle at the same time.

“How- do you know…” Lance asked, articulating every word, but at each one his head turned more and more straight to Pidge and Hunk, his question not a question anymore, but a silent confirmation of his suspects. Keith mirrored him instantly.

The criminals nervously laughed, looking elsewhere, until Pidge clapped her hands together, “W-well, Shiro, time to go! See you Saturday, alright?!” She exclaimed, her voice almost reaching a frequency that usually only Lance could achieve- without being nervous, that is.

“Yeah, yeah! Keith, get well soon! See you too!” Hunk nodded frantically and stretched a smile, exclaiming every sentence at a speed that, also, only Lance could achieve commonly.

Keith was about to ask for an explanation when his face changed expression, as though he had remembered something: he looked down, his wrist returning the stare as a reminder. “Saturday… I can't play.” He muttered.

Shiro and him shared an intense gaze, their usual eye-conversation that sometimes Pidge wished she could understand, when finally the older one came to a conclusion. “I could… call Jake. You can stay home and rest...”

Lance was clearly confused when he noticed Keith flinched at the name, averting his eyes uncomfortably, rubbing his hand against the opposite shoulder, but didn't ask. It wasn't his business. Pidge and Hunk, instead, knew what was enough to understand his discomfort: Jake was Keith's ex, and they had apparently ended the relationship in good terms, but everything screamed otherwise. Anyway, they did not ask either. If Keith wanted to explain himself one day, they would have all listened gladly.

“N-no, I can come too- to help you! It's no big deal.”

Shiro furrowed his eyebrows, but accepted nevertheless after a silent question, “Are you sure?”, and the silent answer in Keith's eyes, “I am”.

The blush on his cheeks told Pidge that someone wanted to come for someone else, even if it meant he would have to see his ex boyfriend.

Had they all been catapulted in a soap opera suddenly?

She wasn't going to complain for sure, as long as she was not involved directly in romantic shit. She didn't have time.

“Okay, see you then. Goodbye!” Shiro opened the door and waited for Keith, who hesitated a little more. He had his back almost completely turned towards them, but Pidge could see his expression: stretched lips, eyes darting from left to right, nose scrunched. It was a matter of seconds until he ultimately decided to turn with his mouth already opened, but nothing came out at first.

“Uh- thanks everyone. Thank you Lance. For everything.” A shiver run through his body and his usual frustrated pout made an appearance. “Okay, bye.”

And that was the end of that strange, strange morning.

Oh well, if you didn't count what happened as soon as the two brothers left the house: Lance stared at the closed door for at least a minute before waking up from his wet dreams, suddenly remembering he was mad with his best friends. He crossed his arms and frowned, waiting for an explanation, or an apology, depending on what was the case- judging by the guilt marked on their faces, the latter sounded more likely.

“I just wanna say,” Pidge started after having cleared her throat, adopting a resolute stance as if it would give her the upper hand- arms crossed to mirror Lance, chin jutted out almost as a provocation, “After all, you two don't look like you hate each other.”

A blush of pink darkened Lance's cheeks, who however didn't falter and continued to narrow his eyes menacingly. He took some steps forward, stomping his feet on the ground while repeating the question still unanswered, the words said in time with his walk: “How. Does. Shiro. Know?”

They finally surrendered, Hunk pulling out the phone from the little pocket on his yellow pajama t-shirt; the transparent reflection of the chat with Shiro could be seen in Lance's eyes while he scrolled through the few messages until the photo appeared as an obvious proof of their culpability.

He stared at the screen for what seemed hours, blue eyes so focused they could have almost pierced through the glass, and finally he raised them with an unreadable gaze; what, however, was pretty obvious and easy to interpret was the on-growing blush that was coloring his features from neck to forehead, which Lance, at that point, wasn't even trying to hide anymore.

He turned with his back towards them, hugging his shoulders as if he could create a shield around himself and not being exposed to their malicious looks. Hunk looked tempted to apologize and probably delete the photo- even Pidge was really starting to feel guilty, although it was just a joke and she knew Shiro probably hadn't even given it a deep meaning.

But then, the boy cleared his throat and hushed an order.

"Send it to me."

Oh, right. Forgot that Lance was a thirsty son of a bitch.

Keith changed his own position on the bed for the fourth time in less than an hour, fidgeting with the border of his black shirt that was already starting to smell bad after three days of doing nothing but eating, watching shows and being bored as hell. Shiro had proposed him to go for a walk, maybe go shopping since he only owned like four identical t-shirts, but… c'mon, he didn't do those things even when he was totally okay, surely he wasn't going to start now. He wasn't that desperate.

Therefore, with nothing else to do… he had found himself typing his mom's number. No reasons, no explanations, just… he wanted to do it. He had made a promise to Shiro, and especially to himself, so he needed to keep it- and now looked like the perfect time.

When she had picked up, tired voice but always soft, his heart had made a little bounce inside his chest. “Keith? Dear?”

“… Hey mom.” He had replied after a few seconds where nothing sounded like the right answer. At the end, he had chosen to just relax and say the first thing that came to his mind, since this was his mom, and not an important job interview. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks. And you?” She had cleared her throat. “Takashi… told me what happened.”

Of course, he had to expect it- honestly, he wasn't even irritated as usual, she had all the rights to know. Hearing her now, worried but a bit relieved just by the probably very unexpected call, a feel of deep guilt made his stomach twist: he would always get angry with Shiro for invading his privacy, for “not respecting his will”, but the reality was… his mom just wanted to know how he was doing without her help, without the support of his parents- and, well, if Keith always kept radio silence, of course she had to ask Shiro since he was the one living in the same house as him and going to the same Academy- he couldn't really blame anyone but himself.

And then, after the little awkwardness at the start of the call, everything started to feel easier, lighter, happier. He smiled a lot, without even realizing it, while mom told him about the failed career as a self-proclaimed gardener of dad, who had killed all the plants in record time- the funniest part was that no one could explain how. He had watered them, cared for them, but they all had died in a few days. He just didn't have the green thumb, probably.

Keith instead told her about his adventure at the skating rink from his own point of view, since Shiro didn't know everything about that evening, and honestly… Keith needed to talk about this to someone. Ah, he would have laughed if someone had said to him that he would have vented about his crush with his mom. It almost sounded pathetic. Okay, he wasn't being that specific – “Yeah mom, oh my god, I want to fuck him so bad” – but… maaaaybe one or two compliments about Lance had slipped by accident- three. Three compliments.

He just explained what he could remember: he had fell, hurt his wrist, passed out, then went to the hospital thanks to the help of this new friend – first compliment (that was actually a… little more than one): “Initially we didn't get along really well… but he's funny, kind and caring. I always laugh when we're not bickering” – and finally, since both of them didn't know where his house was, Lance (at first Keith wanted to keep his name as a secret, but it had slipped out accidentally… with a little shy smile right after) had decided to take him to his own home for the night, even preparing a chicken soup and some lukewarm towels for him.

“He really did a lot… for me. No one had told him to do so. He always does, even when I'm moody, as you know.” Keith wanted to bury himself alive and never come back after saying so much- to his mom, if it wasn't clear enough, but also smile for the eternity, embracing this new feeling in his stomach. He felt like a young boy again, dealing with his first crush…

Keith wished that was the reality. Lance wasn't so bad as a first crush, instead of… him.

The third compliment probably rang a bell in mom's mind.

Or, the bell was ringing since the beginning and she just couldn't take it anymore.

Keith had finally said goodbye to the last remaining piece of his poor dignity, unable to resist to the urge of revealing that Lance had even slept sit on a chair for the entire night just to keep him company! … Okay, now that these words had left his mouth, Keith wasn't so sure it had been a good idea.

And that little bubbly laugh at the end of the sentence? What are you, twelve? Not cool, Keith. But, since his brain apparently thought he was at a fucking sleepover, why not say everything?

“Sometimes Lance is really dumb, because he cares so much for other people that he forgets about himself. I thought he was a self-centered brat, but… he's not. At all.”

Mom hummed slowly after a few seconds of silence, meaning she was reflecting before placing the bomb- a precise question that you couldn't escape. That was why, usually, Keith and Shiro wouldn't say anything to her that could have sound suspicious. She always caught them nonetheless. Moms' special powers?

For instance, she had been able to understand Shiro's feelings for Allura since day one, through the phone- his brother always swore he had just said “There's this violin teacher at the Academy, she's really talented and works hard.” so it seemed impossible, since he hadn't even hinted a little compliment about her appearance or attitude outside the Academy's standards, but mom had a particular ability to decipher the tone of their voices.

Same thing, unfortunately, with Keith: after, like, one day of relationship with Jake, she already had understood all. And there was no escape in talking about guys as friends, because Keith had come out as gay many years before moving with Shiro.

He, obviously, considered himself lucky for having parents that accepted him, no matter what he was and did.

His heart cracked a little just by imagining them being different, more conservative, finding out their adopted child was defective even after all the love they had given to him.

“What was his name again?” She asked, finally.

Uh. Strange. Maybe she was losing her touch. “Hm. Lance...”

“Well, he seems a really good boy. Congratulations.” She replied, a hint of a laugh in the last part of the sentence.

Keith huffed but didn't falter. She was testing the ground, he knew her techniques by now. “For what?”

“Aah, nothing, nothing. I was just joking, sweetie.”

Before he could retort, a familiar sound interrupted him, simultaneously drawing his mom's attention to it and making him shit his pants, basically: a message.

Was he being too paranoiac? Maybe. But better be ready than being too worry free and have his hopes destroyed in one second.

“One sec.” He said, and his mom remained silent while he checked. When he saw the name, his heart skipped another beat. Today wasn't the luckiest day for the poor guy. Too many emotions.

“It's- uhh...” Keith sighed and gave up. “It's Lance.”

Aaaand as expected, mom let out a whistle and giggled. “Okay, well- you should reply. Don't make him wait!”

“Ugh, stop.”

She laughed again. The line was silent for a moment before she added: “Thank you for the call, Keith. I really appreciated it.”

Her voice was so genuine Keith almost felt tears forming in his eyes. He thickly swallowed and smiled, grateful no one could see him in that moment of vulnerability.

“I wanted to hear you. Of course I would have called you.”

“Then I'll call you next time. Take care, please pay more attention to your body.” Keith tried to reply right after, thinking she had finished, but she quickly added, with a teasing tone: “Say hello to Lance for me. And thank him for the babysitting.” and then finally said goodbye.

“Mom!” He scolded her, his voice strangely high-pitched and strained, but he still quickly reciprocated the goodbye with a pout.

As soon as the call ended he shamelessly opened the chat with Lance, who had written three messages, starting their very first conversation since he had added his number that Monday.

God, it sounded so many years ago… instead, just a week circa had passed.

Lance: hey man! it's lance

Lance: how u doin? wrist and all

Lance: aaaand uh sorry i didn't reply but… you are welcome, even if i did really nothing too crazy

At first Keith was confused, his mind a little too busy processing the fact that Lance had thought about him and finally decided to contact him without a particular reason, but then he remembered his miserable way of thanking him for the help before coming back home with Shiro… three days ago. Had Lance thought about that little episode for all this time?

Now, now, easy. No need to put your hopes up for nothing.

Keith: you did. you are crazy

Keith: btw, it's all good. i'm just bored

Keith: and it's difficult to write with one hand, but yeah

Lance: ah. can't relate, i'm used to it

Lance: ;)

Keith head-palmed so hard his forehead almost hurt. Of course Lance had to transform a simple phrase in something sexual.

(Okay, maybe he had laughed nonetheless. Just a little.)

Keith: alright i'm gonna block u bye

Lance: NO BUDDY PLS I WAS KIDDING

Keith: i know me too

Lance: you… can joke????

Keith: bye Lance

Lance: C'MON i know u are laughing

Keith huffed, but couldn't really deny it: he was, indeed, giggling a bit, covering his mouth with a hand while intensely staring at the phone's screen as if he could have seen Lance through it- that damn gorgeous face which lately literally haunted his dreams in a way that almost worried him. No, no, erase “almost”: Keith was really, really scared of what was happening to him. The infamous butterflies in the stomach, the constant warm feeling in his chest, the pain in the sides of his mouth for smiling too much… this, to him, sounded like- ugh, no. It couldn't be. He had said goodbye to this type of things a year ago, and he was not going back to that state of mind. He had barely survived his first relationship, how could his brain think that… having a new, possible serious love interest, was a good idea? Crushes weren't that bad, you know, natural physical attraction and shit, but this… this was bad.

It wasn't just sexual tension anymore.

He was feeling affection. Romantic attachment, even. He had replayed the night before in his mind so many times he could recite each sentence perfectly. And every time he thought about how easy it had been to comfort him for Lance, he felt up in the sky, untouchable. His wrist almost didn't hurt anymore, because Lance had said it was going to be okay. So it had to be.

Keith felt relieved. Happy, to exaggerate. There was still concern, anxiety, fear, but when he thought of Lance – his jokes, his kindness, his stupid “know-it-all” smirk, his flirty manners – he felt... safe. Because it wasn't a casual guy in the street, ready to have fun and break hearts.

It was Lance.

He also felt curios. Curios of what he experienced every time they met, every time they interact; because, even if he had been with Jake, the things he felt were nowhere near these, in no way intense like these new ones.

Or maybe his stupid fairytale was too “unicorns and rainbows”, destined to end soon. The pessimistic side of him always preferred to stay down to earth, even if, by now, Keith couldn't even see the ground anymore.

Maybe he just had to stop hoping for something different.

As always, his mind was a big tangled mess, and he couldn't untie the knots for the life of him.

Perhaps… he needed someone else to do it.

Keith continued to chat with Lance until both of them fell asleep with the phone in their hands.

He didn't check Jake's status. Not even once.

Shiro closed the door of the Paladin's behind him, making sure it didn't make a loud noise. He looked around, the pub almost unrecognizable without all the neon lights, the people drinking and dancing at the rhythm of loud repetitive songs, the musicians preparing their instruments in the corner of the stage – if you could call it like that – waiting to perform.

It was lifeless, thus nostalgic in a way, but also fascinating: a simple place, a wide room with four plain walls, could appear completely different with just people and music.

Yeah, Shiro liked to observe his surroundings, analyzing particulars and details, but… he would have been a liar if he said that the reason why he was mentally describing each tile was because he cared that much for the Paladin's.

The options were two: to focus on the pretty silver-haired girl he had a huuuge crush on who was standing at his right, therefore sweating and stuttering, or to distract himself with, as poetic as they could sound in his head, useless stuff for what they had come for. So option two was definitely a go.

“Takashi! Allura! Sorry, here I am.”

Greg appeared from behind the curtains of the back store, wearing his usual welcoming smile. He was holding a blue cloth in one hand and a wet glass in the other, meaning he had been washing utensils, taking advantage of the lack of clients in the afternoon. After putting down the objects he quickly dried his palms on the apron to shake hands with both of them. “Thanks for coming.”

They shared a look and nodded at the same time, even if the reason as to why Greg had called Shiro was unknown. He would have come with Keith, but he was sleeping- he had looked exhausted all day, as if he hadn't slept. Turned out he really hadn't slept until four in the morning, but when Shiro had asked why, he had just mumbled something, become red, and finally shrieked “Leave me alone!” covering his face with a pillow.

Coran instead had a lesson with Hunk, so Shiro didn't even try to call him, it would have been a futile distraction.

Therefore, the only person who Shiro could think about was… Allura. (Okay, that was just an excuse to invite her, imagining it was an official date as a couple.)

The reality was he had almost instantly thought about her, but what if she didn't want to come? What if she was busy? What if an invite from a colleague was weird? As always, though, she had accepted right away, without even being suspicious. Of course, she was Allura, the most beautiful and kind girl in th-

“Right, Shiro?”

He shook his head to dispel the clouds. “Sorry, what?”

“I said that tonight there are going to be more musicians, so we'll need a wider space.” She repeated, her voice slightly amused while she looked at him. He probably had a dumb expression.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Greg nodded and put a hand under his chin, humming. “Gotcha. That's why I called you: I have a little project in mind, but I need your confirmation first, obviously. Here, let me show you.” He waved his arm to make them follow him while he reached the empty stage, that briefly trembled under their steps, the heels of Allura's shoes ringing out. “Okay, well! As you know, your shows attract a lot of people, and I'm really thankful for it, so I was thinking- maybe we could change location? The musicians can play there instead of here,” He pointed at a much larger space at their left that was however full of tables and chairs for, of course, clients, “They'll have more space and people from the bar can see them a lot better. I can just move the wooden stage there and the tables here, I notice that many prefer to stand up while listening to the performance rather than sitting.”

Allura brought both hands on her chest, her eyes shining. “That's a wonderful idea! Thanks for all your efforts, Greg. Can we help you move the stuff?”

“Sure! Let me check my phone, Lance should be here soon.” The man chuckled, smiling fondly. He opened the curtain of the back store, in the meanwhile. “That guy is incredible. He offered to come tonight instead of my other barman, even if it was his free day. He said it was just because he was bored, but something tells me he wanted to see his friends play.”

Shiro and Allura, surprised, shared a questioning look, as if one could know about this more than the other. Did Lance mention it was his free day? No, impossible, they would have remembered, or at least one of them. So, he had sacrificed his rest just to be there for his friends, to see them perform.

“I'm so happy we chose the Paladin's. We should thank Hunk and Pidge for the idea.” Allura whispered, filling the brief silence between them while they waited Greg. “And Lance, for working here.”

Shiro smiled, recalling that day. It felt like an eternity ago… instead, how many weeks had passed? Not even two months and a multitude of things had changed, for everyone, but the most noticeable was, indeed, his little brother: Keith was still moody and sometimes peevish for no reason, he still had anger problems, but… he also had improved his social skills, smiled and laughed more, went out with their friends- he had even consider to join a competition, something that one month ago would have seemed impossible.

And all of this was born from a little idea.

From a casual suggestion.

“Me too. We are really, really lucky to have them as friends.”

A chuckle caught their attention: Greg was looking at his phone's screen, shaking his head. “Lance is coming. I told him you were here, and he says hello. Also, 'give a kiss on my princess's hand for me'. Did I miss something?”

Allura blushed, her skin a little darker for the embarrassment. “No, no, really. He likes to call me like that, but… there's nothing.” She replied, smiling. As irrational as it was, and he perfectly knew it, Shiro felt a bit jealous seeing her getting flustered for Lance.

He wondered if he had ever made her flush like that.

“Oh, I figured. I know he's a flirty guy. Also, I thought you already had a boyfriend.” He scratched his head for a second, not realizing what kind of awkward situation he was creating between the two young adults in front of him, that were now getting red while avoiding each other's eyes, “Or girlfriend, my bad. Lance lectured me about these things, and I don't want to assume-”

Greg continued to talk, but to be honest they were not listening anymore. Shiro was too busy burying the jealousy, hoping Allura wasn't already going out with someone, while Allura was praying Shiro didn't get the wrong idea about her going out with someone. As always, the same story over again. Was there even an end to their misinterpretations?

“Don't worry. And no, I don't have a boyfriend. No one. I'm just- waiting. For someone. I guess.” Allura finally responded, her eyes darting from one point to another while she rubbed her arm with a hand. She let out a sigh at the end of the sentence, realizing she had given too many details that Greg probably didn't care about.

Shiro cared, however.

Waiting… for someone?

“What about you, Takashi, if you don't mind me asking?”

He bit his lip, lowering his gaze. “Same as her. Waiting.”

From the corner of his eyes, it appeared like Allura had thrown a brief, astonished look towards him.

Greg seemed content with their replies, and just nodded while releasing a long sigh, “Ah, the good old days.” He finally exclaimed, taking the glass he was holding before and putting it near the sink, next to the other ones.

The door behind them opened, the bell in the corner ringing to, usually, notify clients. Instead, Lance entered while chewing a piece of the tuna sandwich he held in his hand. “Hola!” He greeted them after swallowing the mouthful.

Greg said hello with ease, ready to tell him all about the news for the show. Allura and Shiro, instead, narrowed their eyes and crossed their arms, so in synch it was almost creepy- they weren't even looking at each other to copy their movements.

Lance, they knew, had done nothing wrong. It was just an unconscious reflex for the embarrassment his innocent joke had caused. And also because, as always, being selfless he hadn't thought about his own needs: just by looking at him you could see the bags under his eyes, and his skin wasn't glowing as usual- something really strange for someone that cared a lot about his body. He reminded Shiro about Keith, who was in the same situation (but, in his case, it wasn't as surprising.)

“What?!” Lance exclaimed, stepping back a little intimated.

His voice probably woke them up, because they just shared a glance, realized what they were doing, and started to laugh, leaving him more confused than before.

Inhale and exhale.

Was his apron tight enough?

Was his hair okay?

Did his breath smell bad?

Stop, it's just work. As usual.

Lance took another deep breath before pushing aside the curtain that separated him from the counter of the bar, already full of clients waiting to order drinks. He put on a fake smile, hiding his anxiety for the night, and greeted the five guys who were chatting about the show. He didn't like to listen people's conversations – okay, he did enjoy doing it sometimes, but that didn't mean he liked to do it, ya feel? – yet the name “Jake” came up a lot and at some point he couldn't ignore the curiosity anymore.

Who was this Jake? Why was Keith so uncomfortable just hearing about him?

“Yeah, Jake is playing tonight. Wonder why. He usually don't like this shit...” One of the boys said, after thanking Lance for the cocktail. He left five dollars on the counter without paying attention, more invested in talking about this famous dude that everyone knew except for him. Even Shiro, Pidge and Hunk did! … Okay, of course they did, he was a student at the Altea Music Academy, but that wasn't the point.

“He said he's covering another pianist. Don't know who, he didn't specify. Or better, he didn't want to.” The other guy visibly shuddered, emptying the glass of his cocktail at the speed of light. “He yelled at me when I tried to investigate.”

Lance would have loved to hear more, but they stood up to reach the tables that were basically at the other end of the bar. Great. So the mystery of Jake and why apparently he hated Keith so much he didn't even want to name him had to remain a mystery for Lance. Maybe he could ask Keith?

He nearly chocked. No way. He had to consider himself lucky if he was going to be able to even look at Keith, let alone talk to him and ask him about this damn guy. Well, at least this time they were not mad at each other – or, uh, whatever their feelings were – but in absolute good terms. The bad part was- everything else.

Lance was going crazy.

He didn't sleep. He wouldn't eat either, if Hunk didn't force him to. Going to work was a torture, because he wasn't able to stay focused on orders and clients. His skin was screaming for help and hydrating creams- he wouldn't have been surprised to see a pimple… ugh. Just the thought made him shiver.

“Do I have to serve myself?”

Lance startled, almost screaming, until he recognized Pidge sit on a stool in front of him, tapping impatiently on the counter with her fingers. She smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Lance already knew what was coming out of his mouth. He stopped her with a hand nearly against her face. “Nu-uh Pidgey, no comments.”

She growled and took Lance's hand off of her, not giving up. “Someone is thinking about his cruuuush.” She chanted with a high-pitched voice, her hands clasped together in front of her chin while she dangled back and forth on the stool.

“Stop it!” Lance shriek-hushed, swinging his arms to try reaching her from the other side of the counter, but she moved back to avoid him. He finally surrendered and sighed, defeated. “I'm hopeless, Pidgeon. Desperate.”

“Noticed.” She pointed at a lemonade bottle on the shelf behind Lance, so he proceeded to take it and pour the drink in a glass. “You refused to eat pizza. Lance Mcclain never refuses a pizza.”

He bitterly laughed, giving her the drink. “Yeah... it's just- uuugh, I don't know! I don't know what to do.”

“You're overthinking. Just have fun, as always. What's the problem this time? It's not like you never had crushes before.”

That was the exact same thing Lance had thought. He could trust her, she knew him like the palm of her hand- maybe she could really be helpful, if Lance was able to express his real feelings. Like “I think it's not just a crush”, or something like that. The problem was saying it out loud, unfortunately.

He hesitated, staring at Pidge, deciding if that was the moment to be completely defenseless in front of his best friend.

“Lance! Pidge!”

Guess not. Their friends entered in the Paladin's, all the instruments on their shoulders while they chatted animatedly about this and that. Hunk waved towards them, a big smile on his face. He had prepared his favorite song on the guitar, so he was really excited to play tonight. Lance, at the thought of his best friend being happy doing what he loved, smiled fondly and waved back, inviting the group to join them at the counter.

Tonight was for their music, their instruments, not for Lance's feelings. He had to put them behind him again, because there was something more important to care about.

When, however, Keith stepped in with Coran who was nearly chocking him with an arm around his neck while describing his plans for the performance, Lance couldn't say his breath didn't get stuck in his throat. It was impossible.

Mostly because their gazes met in that moment, and a sweet, almost sickening smile stretched on Keith's face, making two cute dimples appear at the sides of his mouth, his eyebrows relaxed and his violet eyes shining under the neon lights. And that expression, that exact expression, was reserved only for Lance.

“Woah. Gay.” Pidge whispered, ruining the moment. Lance, in a way, mentally thanked her: if she hadn't spoken he would have probably jumped on the counter, run towards Keith, and- no. No, no, stop. Enough with the gay thoughts.

“A little late, uh?” Lance teased while they sat on the stools, saying hello to Pidge who in the meantime had finished her lemonade.

Shiro, before replying, checked behind him as if he wanted to make sure someone wasn't there to hear. “Yeah, unfortunately. We had to wait Jake, then he said he had an appointment so he left his keyboard to us… a big mess.” He sighed, but quickly recovered himself with a resolute smile. “But, well, we're here! The other students will arrive soon, and then we're ready.”

Lance nodded and observed his friends. Pidge was, obviously, more laid-back than the other time, since she wasn't playing. She wanted to give space to other electric guitarists, so she had decided to not perform- but she still wanted to see the show.

Coran instead wanted to try, so he had brought his own guitar and prepared a duet with Hunk and two of his other students; Allura was ready since the last performance, her violin almost trembling for her excitement. She had even managed to convince Shiro, – although not surprisingly – who didn't want to play, preferring to leave space for his students, but everyone had insisted, so he ultimately gave in.

Keith was there physically, but not mentally. He looked around absent-mindedly, a sad frown that Lance didn't like to see, but could understand: he had come for their friends, but he couldn't play the piano with them because of a stupid incident- that Lance still felt guilty for. At least he was there and… maybe he could cheer him up with one of his silly puns?

Soon the other students arrived – Lance recognized just one of them, a singer named Ezor, from the first night – so his friends, including Pidge who wanted to help, started to prepare the stage that, thanks to Greg, was now wider and more visible from the counter of the bar, so that clients who wanted to order could still easily see the musicians. The owner of the Paladin's was satisfied with how many people the Altea Music Academy had brought to his bar, he had said it to Lance many times, so he obviously wanted to give them more importance, however this wasn't only a matter of business – Greg wasn't the type of person who cared just about money and fame – but also a personal interest: he loved the students, the teachers, their music, and how could Lance blame him, honestly?

Lance took advantage of the brief lack of clients at the counter to wash his hands and drink some water. While he did that, his eyes casually landed on the corner of the stage where Shiro and Allura were discussing about the position of instruments and musicians, judging by how they were pointing things and places with a serious expression on their faces. After a few seconds, however, Allura started to laugh, a delicate pink spreading on her dark cheeks, and Shiro followed right after, messing up his own hair a little embarrassed, yet amused. They looked at each other and Lance could almost see the sparkles in their eyes as they continued to talk more lightheartedly, both of their hands wanting to reach each other but too shy to do it.

Wow. They are so in love without even realizing it .

Lance unconsciously blushed as he imagined himself with Keith in the same situation. One could only dream…

Ah, his mind was so captured by the romantic image that when Lance focused again on the counter he saw Keith in front of him, sitting in silence with his gaze low on the ground. He almost looked real!

Wait-

Lance sputtered, stepping back. “K-Keith?!”

The boy snapped his head up, surprised as well. He nodded cautiously without saying a word, putting his arms on the border of the bar. The brace on his wrist instantly caught Lance's attention, leaving him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. A reminder of one of his many many mistakes with Keith. But also, a vision that took him back to the night where Lance had had the possibility to stay close to him, touching his hair, his face… his lips. His hands.

For the first and likely the last time.

“For how long were you here?! I didn't hear you!” Lance exclaimed to distract himself from, again, his gay thoughts. It was just the beginning of the night and he already wanted to disappear.

Keith shrugged and checked his phone to see the time. “A few minutes. Don't worry, I wasn't waiting to order.” He replied, voice low and gloomy. He clearly was trying to hide his disappointment, appearing careless as always, but the more time passed the more Lance understood him better. He was about to respond when someone interrupted him.

“Hi everyone! I'm Takashi, a piano teacher at the Altea Music Academy. Thanks for coming tonight, we're almost ready! We hope you'll enjoy our show.”

A lot of clients that were sat at the tables, hearing the communication, stood up and got to the front of the stage, already almost full of spectators provided with drinks and some snacks in plastic plates. One of the singers tapped on Hunk's shoulder with excitement, pointing at the public with the other hand, receiving an encouraging smile from the big guy. Lanced looked at the stool in front of him, expecting it to be empty, but Keith was still there, more miserable than before, if possible.

“Don't you wanna go?” He asked slowly, hinting towards the stage with his head. He made sure to maintain his voice as soft as possible, to avoid sounding accusatory.

Keith didn't even spare it a glance, shaking his head while closing his hand in a fist. His eyes darted left and right before he finally replied. “I just- it hurts seeing them playing, knowing that I can't.” A sigh, his grip tightened. “And I feel stupid because it was my decision to come, so it's my fault.”

Always insulting himself. Did this guy even realize how incredible he was? No, sure. He had no idea. Lance huffed and, without asking, started to prepare a cocktail- hoping that his decision on the ingredients were okay for Keith. When it was ready, he handed it to the other boy, who was now visibly confused, but accepted it anyway. “On the house. So you can cheer up.” Lance simply explained, adding a wink at the end.

Keith smiled again. Two in an hour circa, Lance had to consider himself not only lucky to have witnessed them, but also a magician being the one who have made them appear. “Thank you.” He muttered, sipping the drink right after. The complacent grin on his face told Lance he liked it.

A pleasant silence – relatively, since there was everything but silence at the Paladin's – fell between them when Shiro announced the beginning of their performance, starting with Hunk and Coran that had prepared “Shape of you” with their guitars. Ezor was the one singing with the two- she had incredibly improved a lot from the last time, both singing skills and self-confidence on the stage. She held the microphone like she was born to be a pop star, and honestly Lance could totally see it in her near future.

Hunk and Coran, needless to say, were amazing: his best friend had practiced the song almost every day with the help of Pidge; some may have found the constant repetition boring or even annoying, but Lance could never have enough of Ed Sheeran, so every time they restarted, he was already singing again, keeping the rhythm by tapping any object he had in his hands against any surface he had in front of him- forks, pencils, shoes, Pidge's glasses but she had punched him as soon as he had taken them from her face so that was a failed one, bottles… and Coran was a teacher for a reason, so there was no doubt their exhibition was going to be perfect. In fact, they didn't even have the time to hit the last note before the public exploded in a deafening mix of applause, whistles and screams. Lance was the louder one.

“I LOVE YOU HUNK!” He shrieked at the top of his lungs, imitating a feminine voice. Hunk obviously heard and recognized him, getting all embarrassed and red, but happy. Lance almost felt tears in his eyes for the pride.

A chuckle recalled his attention: Keith was snickering with his mouth covered by his hand, looking at him with half-closed eyes and curled nose. Sure, the frontal vision of a screaming guy trying and failing to copy a girl's voice just to compliment his best friend wasn't so pleasing to witness, Lance had to imagine. But at least he was glad he had succeeded in making him laugh.

The next one to play was Shiro, so Keith finally turned the stool to face the stage. He sat in front of the piano, and as soon as he started to play Lance recognized “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. An overwhelming combination of emotions filled his body, his breath almost getting stuck in his throat while he listened to the divine sequence of chords played with such velocity yet remaining precise it would have appeared impossible if Lance hadn't been there to witness it with his own eyes. Even Keith, who surely had the fortune to listen to his brother everyday, seemed captured by the flawless execution. The public was so focused that, unlike with “Shape of you” where everyone clapped their hands, you could have heard a pin drop on the ground until the very last note, where Shiro slowed and ended the performance with a high-pitched b that rang in the silence- a silence that lasted not more than a few moments: the public, unsurprisingly, dedicated him an ovation that went on for what felt like several minutes. Shiro was clearly uneasy with all that attention, but Lance was sure, deep down, he enjoyed it for once. Especially when, turning towards the other musicians, Allura welcomed him by jumping in his arms, screaming compliments in his ears. Lucky guy.

“I could imagine Shiro was good, but… wow. He's mesmeric.” Lance didn't even realize he had said it out loud, but it was the truth. Keith smiled and nodded, pride pouring out of his pores.

Other two performances – two singers, called Acxa and Zethrid, sang “The power of love” with the accompaniment of a violinist, and a drummer that played a solo with a prerecorded base – and then Shiro announced a pause of a few minutes before the “long awaited performance” of Allura, the famous violinist. Behind him the girl blushed and covered her face with both hands.

“Round two of drinks. Time to work!” Lance exclaimed, pulling up the sleeves of his uniform shirt. As soon as he said it the same loud group of guys of before reached the counter and started to bombard Lance with two orders each. With them, two giggling girls asked for a tequila. Lance just hoped they wouldn't ruin the night by harassing people or creating fights.

When he unconsciously threw a glance to Keith, the boy was hunched on himself, leaning on the bar with an arm in order to cover his own face, as if he didn't want to be recognized by the guys. Well, if Jake hated him, and these dudes were his friends, Lance could understand his fear- but he wasn't alone: if they had a problem with Keith, they had a problem with Lance.

Not that… Keith looked like he needed a bodyguard.

That guy was slim, but Lance knew he was able to break your neck with a move. He just gave these kind of… killer vibes.

(Don't get aroused. Oh my god.)

“Yo, Keith! Dude, I didn't see you!”

Ooooh no. One of the guys had recognized him. He didn't sound aggressive or angry, however, so- maybe Lance had misunderstood their relationship?

Keith slowly turned his head towards them, hinting a smile that almost didn't even lift the sides of his mouth. He kept his gaze low, staring at a random point. “Hi Alex.”

Another one patted his shoulder with vigor, making Keith wince and hunch even more. “Oh, so you were the one Jake is substituting! How's your hand?” He pointed at his wrist.

“Yes, it's me.” Keith replied. Maybe Lance imagined it, but for a moment he looked at him as if to ask for help. “Fine, thanks.”

Being delicate wasn't a known quality of Keith, but hearing him replying so coldly was concerning. He looked so uncomfortable Lance started to feel the uneasiness on his own skin. But, of course he couldn't say anything: actually, as a barman, he shouldn't have listened their conversation from the start.

He shouldn't have- nonetheless, when one of the guys got close to Keith, put his hand next to his mouth to cover it from, Lance would have guessed, the two girls, to then maliciously whisper: “Anyway, you're truly a womanizer, you know? A girlsaid she really missed seeing your cute little face on the stage, tonight.”, Lance decided that, for once, his job rules would have been secondary. To be more precise, insignificant.

“Uh- thanks… I guess.” Keith whispered. What disgusted Lance the most was that, even if it was clear as the sky that Keith was feeling uncomfortable, they were still talking to him- some of them even chuckling under their breaths.

He grabbed a glass and started to aggressively dry it with a cloth, to release some of the anger.

“Well, that girl is here,” The same guy, Alex, pointed at one of the two girls, that were now listening to their conversation, “Why don't you have a little fun?”

“Alex!” The girl exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder, but she was visibly amused. She giggled and muttered something to her friend. Lance felt his stomach boiling into rage.

“No thanks.” Keith, who until then was at least trying to be gentle, had no fake kindness in his voice anymore. He sounded pissed off, but still kept calm. Lance would have already exploded.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows and smirked, crossing his arms on his chest. He got closer to Keith. “No thanks?! You're refusing a hot girl like that! What sort of a man are you?”

Enough.

Lance slammed the glass on the counter, pretending he had dropped it by accident. (Luckily it was one of those thick glasses that didn't break with ease. Greg would have killed him, otherwise.) Everyone got scared hearing the sudden noise, and moved their attention on him. Keith looked like a deer in front of the lights of a car, his eyes wide and scared. “Oops.” Lance said, faking innocence, “Sorry. You want to order again?”

Everyone shook their head and thanked him. Alex instead narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and started to analyze Lance from head to toe. He hesitated before replying: “… yes, a beer, please.”

Lance nodded, trying to smile kindly, but he knew the only emotion he was transmitting was disgust. He turned around to find the ugliest and possibly gone bad beer he had on the shelf. In the meanwhile all the guys, except for Alex, stood up and said they were going to the tables. Good for them, less of a pain in the ass for Lance- and for Keith, of course. The problem, though, – being Alex – was still there, unfortunately.

“I was joking, by the way. You know it, right?”

Oh, sure. Now he's joking. What an idiot.

From the corner of his eye Lance could see that Alex was getting closer and closer to Keith who instead was leaning back as far as the stool conceded. He can defend himself. I know.

“But she's right.”

Alex slowly stretched a hand towards Keith's, yet not reaching him, as if he wanted to tease him.

“You got a pretty face.”

He finally leaned his fingers on Keith's hand, which twitched at the unwanted touch.

What.

Lance almost dropped the beer bottle while he was pouring the drink into the glass.

… W-what the fuck?!

Alex was… hitting on Keith?!

Okay, that wasn't what Lance was expecting, at all. Judging by Keith's face, however, the avances were not as surprising. He just looked like he wanted to die on the spot, but not for the shock.

“Uhm- Alex, can you-” Keith muttered with evident panic in his tone, his eyes flickering in search of help. Lance needed to act, to do something, anything to save him, but-

“Maybe I can… help you heal your hand?” Alex tightened the grip of his fingers in an attempt of a reassuring squeeze, while he started to lean closer to Keith, who was paralyzed, defenseless, vulnerable.

Fuck it.

Lance's arm move forward by its own accord. If his mind hadn't been fogged by jealousy and anger, he would have laughed seeing Alex kissing the glass of beer that had been put between him and Keith. When the dude realized what had happened, he snapped his head up and looked directly towards Lance, a mixture of hate, confusion and annoyance written all over his features. Oooh, he was getting seriously angry.

“Uh, excuse me?” Alex asked sarcastically. If he was trying to sound gentle, he was failing: Lance could almost taste the irritation in his voice. But guess what- he didn't care.

Nevertheless, he decided to be the mature one, repressing an obvious ironic response – “Yes, I accept your apologies” – so instead he just nodded, putting the beer between their now detached hands, since Keith had taken advantage of Alex's distraction to separate them.

“Your beer.” He forced a smile, “The concert is restarting.”

To reinforce his statement, as if he had heard him, Shiro announced they were going to be ready in two minutes. Alex hesitated a few seconds more before grabbing the beer, standing up and nodding, all of this still staring at Lance with a perplexed expression. He finally turned and went straight to his friends who were now in front of the stage.

And then… the silence fell again. If it had been for Lance, it wouldn't have never existed in the first place- he had so many things to say, so many questions to ask, so many insults for Alex, but Keith looked still shaken, his eyes fixated on a random point, his fingers interlaced in front of him. So he just waited.

“He was making fun of me. He knows.”

Keith sighed. Lance stopped, confused, about to ask a clarification.

“That I'm gay.”

The concert started with an explosion of instruments. Allura looked like a muse with her beautiful light-blue dress cut on the knees and her violin which played quick high-pitched notes, not the strangled ones Lance used to play on his cheap recorder at school, but the kind that enchanted you and made you want to listen to more- made you wonder how a little instrument could be so hypnotizing, extremely elegant, yet fast and almost fierce.

As a background, Jake played the piano at the same velocity. Not to be biased, but Keith was better. Not like a bit better, but like a ton. And of course Lance didn't know anything about music and instruments and shit, but hell, he could tell right away that he enjoyed Keith's way of playing a lot more. Jake was aggressive, he moved a lot when he pressed the keys, some notes sounded off… it wasn't a mess, he was really really good, but- c'mon, Keith, man! He was from another planet. Another dimension.

Not to mention Shiro, that was obvious.

Lance elaborated what Keith had said just then.

“YOU ARE WHAT?!”

Oh fuck, he was literally yelling. Thank God the concert was loud, so no one had heard him- and thank God he didn't have something in his hands, or else he would have dropped it instantly.

The screams in his mind, though, could continue undisturbed. He'sgayhe'sgayhe'sgayhe'sgay!

“Wait- that was not what I wanted to ask, I just-” Lance started to ramble as soon as he realized that was not the point of the sentence. Maybe Keith thought he already knew from Hunk or Pidge, but those two, just to tease him even more, had probably decided to not say anything and just wait for Keith to come out.

The raven-haired boy, meanwhile, huffed amused seeing Lance's shocked reaction. At least he was laughing again.

“How does he know?” Lance finally asked, sharply inhaling to steady himself. It still felt unreal, but he needed to stay calm and put his own emotions aside, for now.

Keith didn't reply for so long Lance started to worry he had pressed a sore button, ruining a possible deep conversation between them where Lance could have finally understood more about Keith and his past- and honestly, his present too.

Eventually, he found the courage.

“Jake, the pianist, is Alex's best friend.”

Lance was even more lost. The pieces of his mental puzzle refused to fit together. “Sorry if I'm repetitive, but how does Jake know?”

Keith, again, paused. It was like the words struggled to form and leave his mouth, so Lance had to pull them out.

“Jake... is bisexual.” He muttered, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Okay, he's bisexual, sooo? What does that-”

His voice suddenly died in his throat. Something clicked in his mind in that exact moment, and the puzzle finally formed a clear image. Lance regretted trying to complete it.

Now that he thought about it, it made sense: Keith flinching hearing Jake's name, Shiro worrying about his presence at the concert, Jake's friends knowing Keith and viceversa- Alex knowing he was gay… Jake being bisexual and not wanting to talk about Keith with his friends, getting aggressive.

Jake… was Keith's ex boyfriend.

“Oh.”

Lance felt jealous. Offended, almost.

Keith had liked someone else. Maybe even loved.

And that someone had loved him.

Keith had and had been touched, kissed, hugged before, by someone who wasn't Lance.

Yes, it was stupid: he didn't have the right to feel betrayed, since they were not a couple- and probably never going to be. But, since it was his own mind, the only place where he felt totally safe with his sometimes childish thoughts, Lance decided it was okay to not suppress every flaw he had and indulge a little.

“It didn't last long.”

Keith had talked with his head pointed to the stage, where Allura and Shiro were preparing their performance together. Jake had simply stood up from the piano stool and waved his hand for, like, half a second before returning with the other students, who were talking animatedly. He looked out of place, silently standing with his arms crossed and his back against the wall while observing the surroundings with a bored face.

“Mh.” Lance hummed just to let Keith know he was listening. In reality, he didn't really want to talk- a sour taste had flooded the insides of his mouth, making him incapable of opening it without fearing something stupid or insensitive could come out. If Keith wanted to tell him about Jake, he was obviously going to listen to him, just… not with pleasure.

Keith finally turned back. “He joined the Academy two years ago. Playing the same instrument we often had lessons one after the other, so we talked frequently and became friends. Then he started being obvious with me, flirting and asking me to go out.” Keith explained, his eyes pointed to the ceiling while he was recalling his memories. Lance, as hard as it was hearing about a fucking dude flirting with his crush, was flattered: Keith felt enough comfortable with him to talk about his ex. Just some months ago, they couldn't even say “hello” to each other without fighting. He wasn't saying he had hope, but he had hope.

He threw a quick look at Jake: he was handsome, so he could probably have all the girls and boys he wanted. No wonder, though, he still wanted to have Keith.

“At first I didn't want to, I wasn't sure about what I felt for him, but then he kind of insisted… until I gave in. So we got together.”

Wow. That's sad.

Keith sighed, reinforcing Lance's thought. No matter Jake's appearance, he hadn't accepted right in the moment. Plus, the way they had become a couple sounded very forced.

“Eight months.”

“Huh?”

“We've been together for eight months.”

Lance raised his eyebrows, surprised. “For real?”

Keith shrugged and propped an elbow on the counter, leaning his chin on his palm. “You know, a relationship can't work with only physical attraction. We didn't understand each other, we didn't talk about us, he just got mad instead of understanding.” He tapped his fingers on the surface, probably a nervous tick to steady himself. It sure was hard talking about it, Lance imagined. He wondered what was going through his mind in that moment. Was he hiding some bad memories? “I'm not innocent, I made mistakes too. I underestimated the difference between friendship and love.”

For some reason, Lance shuddered at the possibility that Keith could still feel something for Jake. “Love” was a scary word, even with a past verb. Before he could stop himself from asking dumb things, a question escaped his mouth.

“Do you miss him?”

Oh crap, oh fuck. Lance bit his lip as soon as the sentence ended. Not only it was inappropriate to ask, but he also didn't want to hear the answer. Something in his gut told him he wasn't going to like it.

Instead, Keith smiled shyly before saying “Not right now.” looking at him right in the eyes with a soft expression- Lance couldn't believe it was just for him, as if they were the only two in the room. Not right now… what did he mean?

He just smiled back, lacking of better words to express the happiness that was filling his body. He just hoped that the warmness he felt wasn't showing on his cheeks.

The melody of “Your song” played by Allura and Shiro and sang by one of the girls kept them company while they just stayed there, peacefully in silence with their own thoughts.

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide, I

Don't have much money but boy if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live

At the end of the song, Keith had excused himself to go to the bathroom. Lance wasn't clingy – too clingy, that is – but it had been five minutes circa, and Keith still hadn't come back.

He was starting to get worried, but decided to not going to check just because he would have appeared meddler, and it wasn't really the impression he wanted to give Keith.

But then, ten minutes passed. And then fifteen.

What if he had gotten hurt? What if he wasn't feeling well? What if he hadn't gone to the bathroom but run away because he couldn't stand to see his friends play without him anymore?

What if aliens had abducted him?!

… that was it. Lance needed to go check Keith.

He abandoned the cloth in the sink and went straight to the bathroom, mentally thanking the Altea Music Academy for their concert which kept every client in front of the stage instead of the bar. Greg also wasn't paying attention, too busy clapping his hands like an excited fangirl. That guy was his spirit animal.

Fortunately there wasn't a row in front of the bathroom, when Lance arrived. The door was slightly opened and the automatic light was on, as Lance could notice by the blue halo that seeped from the chink, meaning that someone was inside. Before entering he spied through the fissure, finding a very concerned Keith with his back against the chess-patterned wall, his fingers nervously tapping on it. Seeing him like this, Lance reconsidered opening the door: what if he wanted to be alone? But… that face…

Keith, as much as Lance knew, had been alone for many years. Maybe this time, all he needed was company. Lance decided he was going to help, no matter if it meant a possible rejection.

“Keith…?”

The boy startled instantly, with a terrified expression on his face, as if he had been caught doing something illegal.

“L-Lance! I'm sorry. I didn't feel well.”

He went forward, trying to be gentle even with his steps. “Do you have the fever again?” He tried to raise his hand up to touch Keith's forehead so he could feel his body temperature, but with a sudden dash the other receded, hitting the wall with his back.

Lance felt discouraged all of a sudden, so he retracted his hand in silence, failing however in hiding a hurt expression.

Oh no. He had done a mistake. Again.

He didn't understand... they were getting closer, almost considering themselves friends, right? So what was wrong?

Keith excused himself and tried to move away from his position- until Lance stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He couldn't explain what had gone through his mind in order to find the courage to do that, but he just felt he had to act before Keith could once again escape without opening up about his problems.

“Keith? Is everything okay?” He lowered his head, searching Keith's gaze. When the other finally looked at him, Lance noticed his eyes were shiny, as if he was stifling the tears.

“I'm-” His glance fell again. “I'm an idiot.”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “Why? I don't understand.”

“I'm scared.”

Worse than before. Lance was so confused he didn't even know what to ask. If it wasn't for the neon blue light of the bathroom, he wouldn't almost notice the redness that violently colored Keith's face. A drop of sweat slid on his neck.

“Keith, please explain.”

Lance got closer absent-mindedly, just wanting to have some type of connection between them- but in the same moment, Keith raised his head to look at him. They found themselves really close, their noses just about touching. Are you kidding me?!

They winced, and Lance could almost feel Keith wanted to run away. Instead, he sharply inhaled before opening his mouth.

“I'm afraid- of what I feel. I don't want to repeat what happened with Jake, I…” His voice cracked, so he paused for a moment, “I don't want to fail again.”

Even without fully understanding what Keith meant, Lance felt, deep down, he knew what those words implied. He just couldn't accept them- they sounded unreal.

His heartbeat drummed in his ears. The memory of that day in the piano classroom replayed in his mind, their faces as close as they were when their hands had touched by mistake. Lance felt panic crawling in his skin, making him incapable of thinking.

“People always leave me for a reason.”

Lance stepped forward, although his body felt paralyzed, his eyes unconsciously wider, fixated on Keith, his mouth reduced to a thin line for the tension. “It won't happen anymore.”

A shiver traversed their bodies simultaneously as their noses brushed slightly.

Keith exhaled a slow breath, his gaping eyes staring back at Lance. “I'm going to ruin everything.”

“You won't.” Lance muttered nearly on Keith's lips.

Was it a dream? Was it really happening? Keith was there in front of him, pinned against the wall, not backing away but even getting closer as if he had desired a kiss with the same intensity as Lance. A scenario that Lance could have only imagined until then. Just a few centimeters… and those lips were going to be finally his.

Then, Keith frozed, looking over Lance's shoulders.

Without even needing to turn to check, Lance already knew who was standing behind him.

“Oh. Hi Keith, and hi…?”

Keith felt terrified. A violent shudder made his body tremble as he stared at Jake, a mixed look of confusion and annoyance.

Oh no. He knew that expression too well.

All his fears, even the ones he didn't know he had, were becoming a horrible reality at once: Jake talking to him after he had ignored his messages, Lance seeing Jake, Lance and Jake interacting, Jake literally finding Keith with another guy. He hated the guilt that twisted his stomach, making him nauseous: it was like they were still a couple and Keith was cheating on him. And what sucked was that wasn't real at all- they had broken up a long time ago. He thought he was recovering. So why the fuck did Keith still have to deal with these feelings?

For just a moment, with Lance at a few steps from his lips just about to kiss him, Keith had thought he could hope. Could hope to just forget the past, to forgive himself, to try and give a chance to his own heart. He had gone to the bathroom to calm himself after what had happened – Alex trying to hit on him just to have fun – because it had brought back bad memories, and especially some old feelings. But there was Lance in the other room, Lance who had saved him from Alex, who looked almost jealous. He couldn't escape from himself forever. He was honestly tired to run away from what he truly desired deep down.

And then, like a sadistic game, Jake had appeared.

They remained silent, Jake silently searching for Keith's gaze, still waiting a reply from Lance. Why did he care?! Why did he have to know his name? It wasn't his goddamn business!

Why did Keith struggle to say it out loud, though?

Eventually, the boy swallowed and cleared his throat, not meeting the inspecting look of Jake. “… Lance.”

The other nodded without introducing himself, a fake smile plastered all over his face. With his big ego he probably thought a presentation wasn't needed: of course Keith didn't talk about anything apart from him to all the people he knew. What surprised Keith, though, was the fact that his discomfort seeing him with Lance was clear, as if it truly irritated him. That was a win.

When he adverted sudden movement in front of him, Keith realized Lance had stepped back, eyes low on the ground and closed fists at the sides of his body. Great, Jake had managed to also make Lance feel miserable with just his presence.

“The concert- is sick.”

Obviously, Lance couldn't stand the awkward silence even in a situation like this. Where did he find the strength to be kind and sociable even when he visibly felt uncomfortable? Keith had a love-hate relationship with this side of Lance. Sometimes it annoyed him to the point he wanted to physically make Lance shut up, sometimes he loved it and desired to do the same using different methods.

Jake scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest. His expression didn't change, the same disgusted grimace. “Yeah, what a shame you can't really hear it from the bathroom.”

The “make-you-feel-guilty” technique, a classic. Keith felt stupid for thinking Jake had changed, becoming a better person- pft, as if. It almost seemed like he had turned worse.

Lance winced. “We- uuh, we haven't been here long...”

It was like seeing himself. The stutter, the excuses for no reason, the literal fear in his eyes- it hurt. Keith didn't want another victim, especially if the person was Lance. And especially if he had found himself in a bad position for Keith's fault.

Jake didn't even make him finish, however, too busy rolling his eyes and tapping a foot on the ground as if just the existence of Lance in the same room annoyed him, so he cut him off by waving a hand and exclaiming: “Listen man, can you leave us alone for a moment?”, pointing first himself and then Keith.

Us. What the hell.

Lance was surprised, then hesitated before silently nodding, already walking away with his head down.

No, no, no, no! Enough of this shit. Keith couldn't handle it anymore: first himself, now Lance?! Could Jake just get the fuck out of his life forever? Why did he have to ruin everything? It was like he had a sixth sense for when Keith actually felt something other than anger and sadness- of course he hadn't the right to be happy without Jake, don't be silly.

Fuck. Keith had enough.

“No.” His voice tried to tremble, but the adrenaline in his body kept it steady. He couldn't show his weakness to Jake. “Let's go, Lance.”

Without even thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed Lance's hand with a firm grip and pulled him closer while simultaneously walking away from Jake, literally ignoring his existence by circumnavigating him. Lance was shocked but still followed him, turning around from time to time to check Jake's reaction.

Keith didn't have to. And honestly, he didn't even care. He already knew: disappointment, rage and confusion were the only emotions that were painting his face.

And the only ones that could have probably painted it forever. Jake didn't know anything else.

Instead, something surprised him: Jake laughed. A breathy, scoffing laugh pouring disdain from all its pores. “For real, Keith?” He just asked sarcastically.

He just ignored him. Yes, for real, Jake. He couldn't care less of what he had to say: he had had all the time in the world to say all the things he wanted one year ago, and he had decided to ignore the chance, so screw him. It was his fault and his fault only. Keith was fed up of blaming himself for something he hadn't done.

What had changed him on this matter, Keith couldn't quite comprehend. But a feeling told him he had to do with some certain blue-eyed guy who was now holding his hand.

The door closed behind them, and Jake finally disappeared. Keith would have hoped forever, but… too much positivity for one night. He knew he had to keep an eye on his ex boyfriend. Too bad the only person he wanted to keep his eyes on was Lance.

Ew. Cheesy. Don't say that out loud, never.

Keith continued to walk, absent-mindedly going towards the entrance instead of returning to the counter. The concert was starting again, but for some reason music wasn't attracting him in that moment. He just needed air. Freedom. He had forgotten, however, he had a passenger on board who didn't have the same desire.

“Wait K- Keith, wait. Where are you going?” Lance exclaimed, stopping abruptly. He didn't let go of Keith's hand, but used the other one to point at the stage. Hunk was there, adjusting his guitar on his lap to be more comfortable before playing.

He sighed and shook his head, as if words could plummet down like fruits from a tree. Ugh, he hated to lose his friend's concert for that dickhead. “Sorry, I just- please, let's go out.” He started to pull Lance while reaching for the door handle, some steps away from them.

Lance didn't totally refuse to follow him, but he was going slower, still looking back towards the stage even through the now closed glassed door of the pub behind them. “But- Shiro, Allura, Hunk, Coran, Pidge...” He started to name their friends like a grocery list, probably worrying they were going to be confused as to why Lance and Keith were missing… again.

Well, he had a point, but Keith couldn't bear being in that same fucking place a second more. He turned left, going in an unknown side alley, while explaining almost automatically: “Shiro knows about Jake. He had changed our lesson turns so we didn't have to meet, today was an exception because I wanted to come here. But, he also knew that if I was uncomfortable I could just get the fuck out. Hunk and Pidge know something, Allura knows because Shiro can't keep his damn mouth closed. Same for Coran.”

Lance didn't reply until they reached another turn, who took them to the main road again. Keith wanted to get lost and somehow had returned to the most frequented part of the city, nice. While he scanned all the little alleyways he could see, Lance asked, his voice almost a whisper: “Why did you want to come?”

Keith froze in place. His grip tightened around Lance's fingers, his owns starting to get sweaty. The question, however, didn't sound malicious or teasing, but really genuine… so Keith relaxed a bit, throwing a quick glance at him. Lance didn't have suspects about the reason, it seemed. His face was neutral.

“I wanted to stay with you-” You can do it. Just shut up, stop here and you're done. Nope. He chickened out in the last minute, when Lance's eyes imperceptibly widened. “My friends.”

Well, it wasn't a total lie: he wanted to see Hunk, Coran, Shiro and Allura playing, and Pidge, even if she was just making an appearance- like him, after all. A big part of why he wanted to come, though, was because of a dumb gorgeous bartender. Sigh.

Was it disappointment that he was seeing on Lance's face, after his answer? No, impossible. He was probably just projecting his own emotions on the other one. Besides Lance was smiling, so it was all great, right?

The grin quickly turned into a frown. “Keith, we can't stay here until the concert ends and everyone goes home. Plus I'm the bartender, who's gonna serve people?”

Unfortunately Keith knew he was right, – their friends were playing, the bar counter was unsupervised and Lance was working – he just didn't want to go and return to… reality. He started walking again after choosing a random alley, hoping it wouldn't take them to the main road again. Last try, he swore.

He needed to take a deep breath in a lonely street, and then he would have had the courage to confront the Paladin's again. Having Lance's hand in his own was actually helping feeling better, unsurprisingly; although he was usually obnoxious, loud and talkative, his presence could be really soothing, even if that gay nervousness still remained in the back of Keith's head.

Lance waited while he deeply inhaled, his eyes slowly closing and his chin raising up, to then exhale as if he hadn't been able to breath until that moment. His mind felt clearer of those confused thoughts that loomed over him like dark clouds, finally seeing a ray of light behind them. When he looked up, ready to finally go back, another blinding ray hit him: Lance gave him a reassuring smile, one of the sweetest, kindest he had ever seen.

Oooh, this boy. This boy was crazy.

But he was even crazier for him.

“What a night. First I see Jake's friends, then I find out you're gay, then I find out Jake is bi, then...” Lance opened his palm and started to count on his fingers, probably wanting to lighten up the mood with some stupid joke, but Keith made him stop with a sudden gasp, as he realized something. “What?!”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and stared at a random point, elaborating his discovery. “Bi.” He whispered, and it all finally made sense. “Ooooh. Your nickname is a pun for bisexual. Like, instead of bye you wrote bi for-”

Ah. Keith's brain grasped the concept in that moment.

“You are. Bisexual.” He just said in a monotone voice. His mind, meanwhile, was anything but monotone- Lance wasn't straight. He was bisexual. He loved boys too. He loved… boys too. He'sbihe'sbihe'sbihe'sbi!

Keith knew, of course, it didn't mean he now had a chance, or even more hope than before, just because Lance was bisexual- but c'mon! That had to be something, right?! For example, now there was no possibility he could be homophobic, or being uncomfortable with Keith's attention or presence. At least he could breathe a sigh of relief for that.

And he also had more hope. He was just denying it.

“Oh god. Keith, my buddy, my man, my dear friend- sometimes you're really… dense. To put it lightly.” Lance declared theatrically, putting a hand on his shoulder and the other on his heart, as if he was feeling real pain.

Keith warded off Lance's hand, grunting irritated, but he had to admit that yes, maybe he was a little slow when it came to puns. Especially when the puns where Lance's, since he seemed to have a particular sense of humor. “Shut up. You could have told me.”

Now was Lance's turn to gasp, outraged. “I had to tell you? What about you, Mr. I'm Going To Casually Come Out Tonight?!”

Keith sighed, rubbing a hand on his opposite upper arm. “I thought you knew?”

“I thought you knew too.” Lance replied, putting his hands on his sides in a bitchy way. The attitude lasted for about three seconds though, because he started laughing. “As I was saying, I didn't expect this night to be so… eventful. How are you going to surprise me now?”

Keith joined, giggling under his breath, until a quiet thought made its way in his mind: what if he took the question… seriously?

“Can you-” Keith's tongue felt like a sticky gum in his mouth, impeding him to talk properly, “Can you hug me?”

Lance's face said it all: his cheeks became red, his eyes widening almost comically for the shock; at the same time, he wanted to tease Keith so bad his eyebrows were literally shaking with desire, his lips a thin line as if he was fighting to hold back a bad joke- he looked like a big mess was going through his mind. Finally, he just nodded and opened his arms almost automatically, not even trying to make fun of him.

Mom's hugs, Keith remembered, were always warm and soft. She had the most delicate grasp, as if she was afraid of breaking him, but so reassuring and compelling that he always would feel instantly better, no matter the subject. She would, sometimes, rub her hand on Keith's back to make him relax, drawing circles or figures; they had invented a silly joke where she would trace a letter or an object and Keith had to guess what it was. He would always win, although he suspected most of the times his mom was actually cheating, saying it was correct even if it wasn't. She just liked seeing Keith happy.

Dad's hugs, instead, were more funny, dynamic: when Keith was sad, he used to hide behind his back and ambush him, grabbing him from the sides and making him fly in the air until he would hear him laugh. That was an instant way to make him feel better. Dad liked to see Keith having fun, no matter what.

His parents, the Shirogane, loved to do the three-way hug, with Keith and Shiro in the middle that screamed and complained because they were suffocating- but they actually enjoyed this little goofy family moments, together and happy.

Well, Lance was… a combination of familiarity and unknown. He recognized the warmness, the soft touch of both hands on the sides of his body, the feeling of being safe in his arms; at the same time, he discovered that he loved having Lance's chin on his shoulders, his short strands of brown hair tickling his cheeks, his long arms surrounding him as if they were the only ones in that moment.

Jake's? He didn't even remember now.

“Are you cryin-”

“I'm not.” Keith had been a fool to actually believe Lance could resist without mocking him.

After some minutes Lance started patting him on the back, slowly breaking their hug. Yeah, right, real life and shit. He slightly stepped away, meeting Lance's eyes. The outline of his figure was shining thanks to the lamppost behind him, creating a white aura that made him look almost… ethereal. They were as close as before in the bathroom.

Keith blacked out and just- went for it. He put his lips on Lance's for a second, not even kissing him properly. The gesture looked like an affective peck, a casual thing someone would do in a jokingly way. Was it because of the atmosphere, because of the intimacy, or because of some kind of strange muscle memory derived by the few good flashbacks he had with Jake where they actually hugged and kissed affectionately? Or maybe a mix of the three? There was no time to search for an answer, however.

They were both so shocked they just stared at each other for an eternity, that was a minute circa in reality, until Keith started to process what he had done, and that he actually needed an excuse to explain what the fuck had gone through his mind to do such a stupid thing like- like- oh god, Keith couldn't even think about that word. Why? Just why?!

“I- uh, sorry, I just- I didn't mean to, uh, yeah, you know-” He stuttered, trying to apologize being however unable to actually form a sensible sentence. Was there even a believable explanation? Like, how did someone justify that kind of behavior? Was someone that stupid to do such thing, really? Other than him, of course.

Lance nodded knowingly and stopped his miserable attempts by giving him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. “I get it. You panicked for the Jake situation and acted without thinking. Don't worry, okay?”

Not really for him, but let's go with that. “Yeah, totally. Sorry, thanks for… understanding.”

Yeah, he had lied. But… he had done it for Lance. He couldn't just say “No, I wanted to kiss you and oh by the way I also have a crush on you” after all that shit had happened: if Keith had been in his place, he would have thought to be a replacement of Jake, since he was now unavailable. Even if it wasn't right at all, he knew that Lance's mind worked like that, especially now that he had discovered about his sexuality: always not giving himself enough credit to actually believe someone could like him if not for being the third wheel. If only he could realize Keith would have chosen him over Jake- over every other guy.

Oh my god. He couldn't believe their first kiss had happened in such a miserable way.

Okay, he couldn't believe their first kiss had happened, period.

The first… and the last. Perfect. Wonderful. He would have lived with the memory of how he had panicked and tried to kiss Lance, resulting in a pathetic peck that kids gave to their mothers, better than him. What a nice story to tell to parties. And what Lance was even thinking now?! That he was a loser? Well, he was right!

His eyes suddenly caught a movement under his chin, that distracted him from his messy thoughts. Lance had extended his hand towards him, as an invitation to hold it again. “Let's go back?” He smirked, winking as usual.

Keith just smiled and nodded before taking his hand. Being a loser, if it meant he still could hold hands with Lance, didn't suck as much as he thought.

Unfortunately when they came back the concert was already finished, judging by all the musicians that were putting away their instruments while chatting and probably sharing their own emotions about the experience. At least they all had their personal bottle of water, so they didn't need to order something at the bar; some of the clients, instead, were starting to sit at the counter, looking around to check where the bartender had gone. Thank god they didn't know he was literally out of the building with a dude during work… poor Greg, he had put faith in him! Lance hoped no one was going to snitch on him.

He was so distracted thinking about Greg and the Paladin's that he almost didn't realize he was still holding Keith's hand from when they had started walking back- and either of them had made a comment about it.

No matter how much effort Lance was putting into ignoring the questions in his mind, he couldn't. Had he just imagined Keith mouth-kissing him? Had it been an accident? A way of thanking him for the support very affectionately, even if it didn't sound like something Keith would have done? Perhaps muscle memory with – Lance swallowed thickly, still not able to accept the reality – Jake?

Whatever was the reason, they had “kissed”, although it had been so fast Lance hadn't had the time to realize and returned it. Well… maybe it was better like this. What if Keith didn't want him to reciprocate? It would have been even more awkward than it already was, soooo no thanks. He had tried to go with the “Jake situation” as an explanation, since Keith was stuttering and struggling to find the words, and obviously he had confirmed his suspicions. He wasn't even surprised to be a replacement.

For a moment, he had thought he could be someone's first choice. Keith's first choice. Nevertheless, even if that wasn't the case, he wasn't going to turn his back on him just for this: Keith needed his help more than ever, now that Jake had tried to approach him after finding him in a bathroom with another guy… Lance cast out that memory, deciding it was better to ignore it. He could whine about it later in the safety of his room, alone.

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention. Keith pointed at the musicians, trying to be subtle, and luckily Lance understood right away: Jake was missing. Had he returned at all from the bathroom after they had left him alone? Or had he been such a drama queen he hadn't even showed up anymore? Oh my god, Lance couldn't believe it. What a mess. But it also felt a little good.

“Lance! Keith! There you are.”

Shit, their friends were not going to see them holding hands out of context. They both decided to let go without consulting each other first, as if they had mentally agreed it was better to get rid of all the possible incriminating evidences of what had happened during the night. Just in time, Shiro jogged to reach them, a concerned expression on his face. The others were behind him.

“Jake run away as soon as the concert finished. He said some friends were waiting for him, but I'm not buying it. Where were you?” Shiro asked, scanning their faces to find an answer. Good thing the lights were still low and soft, or he would have noticed the remains of redness on their faces.

Keith hesitated before responding, his mouth gaping as he tried to come up with an answer. He was interrupted by their friends' arrival, especially by Hunk, who crossed his arms on his chest, looking really disappointed with Lance.

“Lance, buddy, I get Keith if he didn't want to listen to the concert, but at least you...” Hunk accused, frown deepening as he talked. Lance instantly gasped mortified and flapped his arms – almost risking to hit someone in the face as always. Good thing they were all used to it by now – sputtering so many excuses in a row that they could hardly comprehend what he was saying.

“No Hunk, please forgive me! I swear I heard it all- we were out for like five minutes! Keith needed some air but I swear-”

Hunk put both hands on his shoulders to calm him down, the usual kind smile returning on his face. “Hey hey, Lance, I was joking. I'm not mad.”

Lance breathed out a long sigh of relief and started to praise everyone, throwing compliments that no one could escape from, while the group moved from their place in the middle of the Paladin's to the bar counter, so he could continue talking with them while serving clients- luckily Greg spotted Lance right after, so his little secret was safe.

Shiro and Keith were the firsts to go, since Shiro had the first daily lesson the morning after, so he had to wake up early. They all said goodbye, Allura reminding his soon-to-be-boyfriend about some trip that Lance didn't know anything about, but he just ignored it, supposing it was the couple's secret code or something. Keith was too distracting to actually listen to their friends, sooo…

He would care about Pidge and Hunk's knowing looks tomorrow. Now he just wanted to stare at Keith's beautiful face, feeling a big soft smile on his own that almost hurt his lips, but in a tooth-rotting sweet way. The boy reciprocated with a shy smirk and silently mouthed “Thanks, bye” reserved only for him.

Saying he was gone for Keith wasn't enough.

The morning after Lance woke up so disoriented and numb he almost thought he had been in a coma. After ten minutes circa passed trying to gain enough consciousness by rubbing his eyes and rolling in the bed so many times his legs get caught in the sheets, he finally found the strength to stand up and go to the kitchen to have breakfast. Usually food worked when his senses didn't want to cooperate.

He sat down and babbled “G'morning” slouching every letter as if talking was the hardest thing ever. Pidge replied in the same way, being by now a loyal subscribed victim of rude awakenings, while Hunk cheerfully greeted him with a plate of pancakes just made. God bless Hunk.

“So.” Hunk casually began, pouring cereals in his milk. Lance continued eating pancakes without focusing on him, but nodded to make clear he was listening. “Yesterday night.”

Confused, he chewed the mouthful and just waited for her to continue. His memory was a little confused at the moment.

“What happened with Keith?” Pidge asked straight out.

That name was like a sudden awakening, ruder than the actual one that had woken him up earlier. He almost chocked and started coughing as the flashbacks of the night prior started replaying in his mind all at once, overlapping and repetitive. Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. The feeling of Keith's lips on his own, even for just a moment, had left a tingly sensation that Lance was now experiencing again with an on-growing blush that couldn't be suppressed anymore.

“W-what do you mean?” He tried to ask with an outraged grimace, frantically shrugging his shoulders and fidgeting with the fork, the ferocious hunger now totally gone in a blink of an eye.

Pidge wasn't going to deal with his shit. “Lance, when you came back you were both as red as a tomato. Shiro saw you coming out from the bathroom, and soon after Jake did. He looked mad, as if, I don't know, he had seen his ex boyfriend with another guy. Just guessing though.”

Busted. There was no point in hiding it anymore, but… Lance honestly lacked of words. He couldn't even explain the situation to himself, let alone to others. “I… don't know what to say.”

“Buddy, we're just worried. You know you can say anything to us, we're your best friends.” Hunk translated Pidge's words, making them way more cuter than she had intended- but he knew she actually cared and wanted to help him.

Lance sighed, hesitating. That was going to be the first time he admitted it out loud. Could he do it? Nope. But he had to: the first step to elaborate an event was talking about it with someone.

“We kissed.”

Pidge and Hunk gasped in sync, the latter's little spoon clanging against the mug as he dropped it in shock, the fall causing some drops of milk to spill from it. Well, some may have said the reaction was too dramatic, but they were his friends after all- living with Lance, everyone became a drama queen.

“But- it wasn't really a kiss, you know, he just- uh, put his lips on mine for a second?? And I guess he was imagining Jake so he didn't actually kiss me, ya feel?” Lance rambled, making Pidge and Hunk physically deflating with every word he uttered.

“Okay, put aside your thoughts, what did he say about the kiss? And before in the bathroom? What did Jake say?” Pidge asked almost breathless. She then hunched in her chair and took a deep breath, as if the situation exhausted her. “Oh my god, we're in a soap opera. I feel tired already.”

“He just- agreed with me?” Right. Worst part of the night, Lance preferred when he didn't remember it. “In the bathroom… he said some strange stuff I didn't really get, about… not wanting to make the same mistake and losing someone else, but- I don't know.” He sighed again, an abrupt wave of sadness hitting him so hard he needed to lean on the backrest of his chair. Woah, he hadn't realized how difficult all of this was for him.

“What did you guys decide, then?” Hunk asked, gentle voice as he probably noticed Lance was starting to feel overwhelmed. As hard as it was though, he knew reflecting on it and hearing opinions was therapeutic, instead of just being imprisoned in his own mind.

“We… didn't.” Lance realized. They hadn't really… confronted each other about it? They had just come back and that was all. Not surprising though, they have never really talked about their feelings or their actions- for example, the almost kiss in the piano classroom was still a mystery, as well as their dance at Lance's house and when Keith had the fever. They just weren't the best at expressing themselves.

Pidge finally cracked a smile, a hidden fondness behind it. “It's okay, Lance, don't panic.”

Hunk nodded, squeezing his shoulder. “Yeah dude. There's no need to rush.”

Keith's wrist was getting better. He could move it without feeling pain anymore, but the doctor had said to take it easy and not forcing it too much for now. Being the impatient he was, however, he had decided to go to the Academy and play for some time, just to get used to the routine again. He tried to use the other hand more, playing just some notes to accompany the main melody with the hurt one.

While he was playing, Shiro entered in the classroom, but he ignored him until the song was finished. It wasn't the first time, he usually would enter to check on him or listen to him exercising, commenting and giving him advices from time to time. As soon as he stopped to change the music sheets, though, his brother bluntly asked: “Do you have something to do with Jake running away from the pub?”

Keith froze. He had been too hopeful Shiro would have just let the problem go without asking explanations.

“No...”

Shiro got closer. “Keith...”

He hunched his shoulders and looked around, biting his lips. He tried to sound casual, failing miserably. He couldn't lie to Shiro for the life of him. “Maaaaybe?”

At that point Shiro didn't even need to repeat his name to make him talk out of guilt. He threw the sheets back on the music stand and turned the stool to face his brother. Shiro didn't look mad, just genuinely wanting to understand. “Okay, yes, but not completely. Jake was in the bathroom with us, and- no, you know what? Never mind.” He reconsidered saying the truth when he was reminded about the fact that he was there, with Lance, against the wall, almost kissing while basically saying he liked him to his face, when Jake had arrived.

Trying to follow his mind jumping from an idea to another in zero time was starting to get harder and harder. The only thing he could do was omitting that part, Shiro wouldn't know that anyway. “I didn't feel good, so I went to the bathroom and Lance helped me. Then Jake saw us and got the wrong idea, and asked me if we could talk alone. I said no because I didn't have anything to say to him and left with Lance. That's why he was so mad.”

Shiro seemed surprised by the story and uncrossed his arms. “Woah, I didn't expect you to… actually reply. Well, I'm glad you were able to confront him. I was just worried.”

Keith nodded, ignoring that little sting of guilt in the back of his mind. He needed to relax, it wasn't like he had lied on everything, just that little part where “Jake got the wrong idea”. Shiro didn't have to know that, at least for now. (Probably never, in Keith's opinion, but you never know.)

“Anyway, we were thinking to do a group trip on Sunday,” Shiro said, stopping to wait for Keith's attention, “At the beach?”

The question was implied. Are you okay with that? Well, he hadn't seen the sea for two years, a little concern was understandable. He kind of felt nervous himself, but not as much as he would have thought just some months ago. He simply shrugged and said: “Okay.”

Shiro warily repeated. “Okay?”

“Yeah. It's cool.”

Keith's reaction made him visibly relax, a smile making the dimples at the sides of his mouth more visible, as it happened with Keith's. Even if they weren't brothers by blood they had a lot of features in common.

He was about to start playing again, but it was like he could physically feel Shiro's distress behind him, so he turned once again. “Is there anything else?”

He faltered and fidgeted with his fingers, until he finally find the courage to talk. What he said was something Keith wasn't expecting at all, not even in a million years.

“I might confess to Allura.”

Keith chocked on his spit. Okay, that was a good reason to stop the daily exercise.

grumpypants: hey lance

bi the way: hey!!!

grumpypants: sooo i thought about what you said some time ago

grumpypants: about the competition

bi the way: and??

grumpypants: i joined

bi the way: !!!!! really???? keith i'm so proud of you

bi the way: when is it?

grumpypants: a month, they have to sort the participants

bi the way: good luck, i know you'll rock

grumpypants: thank you

grumpypants: :)

Chapter Text

Shiro and Keith left their place at eight am, perfectly in time as the older always wanted to be. They had prepared their stuff the night before to prevent a delay, and also because Keith's brain didn't function before ten am, so he would have probably put some strange things in his bag. One time they had had to catch a flight at six and, when they arrived to the hotel and opened their bags, Keith found the TV's remote control and a fork… four am himself must have thought they were his phone and a pen. 

After pulling over the car, the two brothers waited in front of Allura's house with the music on as a soft background. Since Coran couldn't come to the beach having to work, Shiro – surprising no one – had proposed to give her a ride. No problem with having another passenger, just the fact that Keith had had to deal with Shiro's constant complaints all morning was a little annoying. Also his silly lovey-dovey face when Allura was next to him- Keith was already starting to regret his choice on the back seat. But at least things were starting to get interesting: Shiro wanted to confess his love, finally , and if Keith had to be honest and cheesy for a little second, he was really proud of his big brother. Almost jealous of his courage.

Allura closed the door of her house behind her, already waving her hand as soon as she saw them waiting. She wore a flowy see-through white dress, ideal for a day at the beach, from which you could catch a glimpse of her neon pink bikini that made a nice contrast with her dark skin. While fiddling with the keys with one hand, she held her large straw hat as if she feared it could fall.

One look at his brother and Keith felt nauseous: Shiro was staring at Allura with wide eyes and his mouth open, his entire face red, almost foreshadowing a very possible sunburn later in the day (when they used to go to the beach, Shiro always came back home looking like a crab, even with liters of sunscreen on to try to protect his skin). Keith couldn't make fun of him though, since he was the second one suffering from it.

“Ew.” Keith whispered, making sure Shiro could hear him by bringing his face close to his brother's ear.

Shiro flared his nostrils and muttered: “Don't you dare.” as a response, just in time before Allura entered in the car and, after saying hello, started to list all the things she had brought.

When Lance, Pidge and Hunk arrived at the beach, the other three were already there, at a perfect time. Hunk put a hand on Lance's shoulder and looked at him as if to say “ You can do it, buddy. ” before opening the door and getting out.

Lance had a tough morning, to say the least.

He had put his hopes too high, perhaps: when Shiro, the night before, had announced that him and his little brother would come to the beach, Lance hadn't reacted as his best friends were expecting. Honestly, it was okay. No big deal, just a fun day with all of his friends at the sea, where he could finally swim.

However, as soon as he woke up in the morning, the first thought that came to his mind was terrifying.

“ I'm going to see Keith in a swimsuit.”  

He could already hear Pidge's exasperated voice: “ Oh my god, Lance.” And, okay, maybe he was being a little too dramatic, but listen up. Keith did things to him, and those specific things were not really appropriate for a pg-14 public - in other words, he could get turned on just by seeing that boy in swimming trunks. Yeah, he was that much gone. 

Ew , it was almost too gross even for him. So of course he wasn’t going to say it out loud in front of his friends, especially because he would have ruined the mood with his complaints. 

Seat belt buckled, car engine started, hands on the steering wheel, radio at a volume that should have been illegal in the early morning, and Lance was ready to start. 

Except…

Keith in a swimsuit. What if he comes closer. What if I stare too much. Oh my god I bet he's a bundle of muscles. He's hot and I'm screwed.

… he wasn’t.

The travel started with “Rather be” by Clean Bandit as a background to Lance singing a little too loud; that was usually normal for him, but Hunk, sitting next to his friend, noticed the first symptoms: shaky hands, strained voice, trembling body. So he lowered the volume and asked: “Are you okay, bud?”

Lance nodded so vigorously that he looked like a Bobblehead. Not convinced at all, but not wanting to be pushy, Hunk just smiled and left him alone.

However, as they took the main road to the local beach, Lance somehow managed to turn up the radio volume even more, (Pidge and Hunk swore it wasn’t technically possible) so high that the car started to vibrate. As he was holding to the steering wheel like his life depended on it, – which, to some extent, was true – howling off-tune lyrics that didn’t make sense, the situation became pretty clear: Lance was using his “emergency songs”. 

“LANCE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WHAT’S WRONG?” Pidge screamed, hands on her ears to avoid becoming deaf.

“I DON'T WANNA SEE KEITH IN A SWIMSUIT! I'M TOO WEAK FOR THAT AND HE'S TOO HOT!”

The boy just exploded at the magic question. Remember when he had promised he wouldn’t mention Keith and the problem with his own lower parts? Yeah, fuck that.

Usually, Pidge was the one that reacted exasperatedly while Hunk provided advice- in this case, however, both of them sighed loudly and exclaimed “Oh my god, Lance ” at the same time, as if they had agreed on it before. To be honest he couldn't blame them, it was pretty pathetic.

The realization came a few seconds later, hitting him as a slap in the face. Pidge and Hunk had just left his complain there, in the air, treating it as what it was, a silly concern- but… saying it out loud helped Lance realizing something deeper.

It wasn't… seeing Keith in a swimsuit. The problem was… seeing Keith.

“What if it doesn't matter to him?” His voice came out as a whisper, almost inaudible due to the car rumbling and the loud music. His friends still heard him, Hunk lowering the volume automatically as he moved on his seat to face Lance. He didn't have to be specific, as if they already knew what he was referring to.

Throwing a quick look to the little rearview mirror, he confirmed what he already imagined: his expression had darkened, his features more serious and vulnerable. He hated this side of himself. He treated it like one of those useless things you would throw in the attic and acted like you could forget its existence just because it would have been covered by dust.

But he couldn't always hide it, not in front of his best friends especially. What appeared like superficiality and silliness, almost not caring, was just the pile of dust over his deepest insecurities, and the self-loathing he had felt for years. Sure, those thoughts never abandoned his mind, but at least Lance tried to not be obvious in front of other people, because who needed irrelevant problems to deal with?

Sometimes, though, it was impossible to ignore his inner turmoil. His thoughts wanted to come out, his mouth ready to spill everything, no matter how vulnerable it may have sounded.  

Lance sighed, knowing he had to have this discussion before arriving at the beach, or he would have risked to explode in front of everyone. “It's just… I'm so confused. We've never talked about this… thing we have. Assuming there is a thing. What if we don't have a thing and I'm just imagining it?”

“You're not, trust me.” Pidge offered with a slight ironic tone. 

Hunk threw a reprimanding look towards her before talking. “Lance, you can't know for sure if you don't ask him. You two have to talk about it.” 

The sole thought terrorized him. He couldn't bear an awkward conversation like that- if you asked, Lance would have said he was good with words, gave pretty nice advices, and – despite what Pidge insinuated – quite able to fascinate both girls and boys with his conversation skills, but for the life of him he couldn't form a sensible sentence in front of Keith, especially if it was about him, them, Keith's body, their bodies, his face, their faces- okay, anything . And what if- what if…

“If I asked him, he could say what I don't want to hear.”

Ouch. Those words hurt more than he expected.

A small hand on his shoulder. He startled a little, using the rearview to meet Pidge's eyes in the backseat. She was smiling encouragingly, a genuine grin on her face. “Or, he could say what you want to hear. Which is?”

Finally, the last curve that would have taken them to their destination. Lance could already smell the marine breeze from the car windows, which were cracked open since the three of them were almost melting from the crazy heat- the temperature was so high that the horizon in front of them looked wobbly as waves of the sea, until those really appeared, only preceded by a vast expanse of sand riddled by some umbrella poles.

Crystal clear water, calm and silent, slightly moved by the fresh wind that thankfully helped feeling a little cooler. Lance missed the ocean so much, it was like he hadn't seen it for years. In his current state of mind, the beach sounded like the perfect distraction.

Lance huffed, somewhat relieved by his friends' words. “I guess if he'll say it, I'll know that's what I want to hear.”

The beach was basically empty, except for a couple lying on their towels and an old lady observing the sea seated on her deckchair, so they could use all the space they wanted without having to perform parkour moves through people, towels, umbrellas and children. There was peace, silence, just the brief noise of the waves and breeze to keep them company while looking at the sea, all feeling different emotions: some anxiety, some others happiness, some hope. None of these feelings were shared with each other, however, because soon after that moment of silence Allura didn't waste time to give orders, as she always did when something had to be done quickly.

Shiro and Hunk, the strongest guys, had to plant the two big umbrella poles in the sand, while the others started lying down their towels and chairs, maybe even exaggerating a little with taking too much space for the group, but c'mon, the beach was empty, it wouldn't hurt anyone for now, right?

As soon as Lance had finished, he started undressing like he was dying to touch the water, which was kind of true. He felt like he had waited forever, and now he could finally swim and feel at home. When he was little and still lived in Cuba, his whole family had the tradition to go to the beach every day as soon as summer started and school ended, even with cousins and uncles that Lance didn't know or couldn't remember. The beach mansion they owned was very big – of course, since it had to contain more than thirty people – and looked like a royal castle to Lance and his siblings. So many adventures, so many secrets and hidden rooms discovered… so many laughs. Living in the USA was cool, but he would have lied if he said he didn't miss those moments in Cuba. Therefore, the beach had a bittersweet taste for him: he loved swimming, playing badminton, sunbathing, the feeling of the sand between his fingers… but he also missed his family and the memories attached to them. 

“C'mon Lance! The water is awesome!” Pidge's voice recalled his attention. The girl, already half-immersed, was dragging Hunk towards the sea, although he looked less convinced of the “awesome water” she was talking about- they had different temperature preferences for sure: Pidge hated the heat and would have taken an ice bath anytime, while Hunk… not so much.

Well… not every moment away from Cuba had to be sad. He had a new family to create fun memories with.

Shortly after, Allura happily placed her towel near Shiro's, hoping no one noticed her content smile- when she turned to finally undress and go swimming, however, Pidge was staring at her with her usual mischievous grin, arms crossed and hip to the side.

“You're unbelievable.” The younger said, holding a laugh.

 Allura grunted and tried to find the right words to shut her up. She stuttered excuses until she just burst out: “Weren't you swimming with your friends?!”

 Pidge walked towards her bag to pick her goggles. “I forgot these.” She put them on and hesitated for a moment, seeming distracted by something behind Allura, “Look who's coming back. Today is gonna be so fun.” And then she run away before Allura could ask what she meant. No explanations were needed, though, when she heard Shiro announcing Keith and he had returned with food supplies- and of course the older brother had to be shirtless, because Allura couldn't have a moment of peace.

 They were both carrying a heavy-looking cooler, each holding one of the two handles at the sides, so Shiro's muscles were slightly tensed due to the weight he was supporting. Sigh, Allura appreciated for sure, but there was no way she could hide her blush at the sight. “Good, thanks guys!” She exclaimed a little too loudly, clapping.

 Shiro smiled, apparently unaware of what Allura was going through, and proceeded to take off his shorts right after putting down the cooler, as if he couldn't wait to swim. As far as Allura knew, he hadn't been to the beach for a long, long time, to respect Keith and his fear, so it was normal he was so excited. She instinctively smiled at both of them: they could finally take a break from their problems, maybe Keith could slowly start to heal and… who knows, overcome his phobia? Seeing him there, so close to the sea, a little uncomfortable but fairly calm, was already a big step.

 “What?” Keith asked, noticing her fixed gaze. He was fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt, not sure if following his friends in the water was a good idea- Lance was swimming like a dolphin, diving and emerging quickly, while Pidge and Hunk had started a vicious water sprinkle battle. It looked like his body was ready to run to the water, but something stopped him.  

 Allura reached out with a hand and put it on his shoulder. “Don't be afraid, okay? Go have fun.” Shiro, who was listening to their conversation, joined her and squeezed Keith's shoulder as he always did to comfort him. He just nodded with a decisive smile- Allura's words were enough.

 “Yeah, okay.” Keith replied, not really sounding convinced at first, but when he started taking off his shirt, they considered it a win.

 Pidge and Hunk had already had the time of their lives and the day had just started. The best thing of it was having a convenient view from the shore: not too close for their laughter and gazes to be noticed, not too far away to not be able to see every little detail. A bowl of popcorn for both and their little private cinema would have been perfect.

 Plot: Lance – the protagonist – being so distracted by the sea and his eagerness to swim, had forgotten to capture that gorgeous sight, so he had gone back to the beach to pick his phone and take a photo. Meanwhile, with the best timing possible, Keith – the other protagonist, Lance's love interest in their imaginary movie ( but also in real life, both of them agreed) – was finally taking off his clothes to join them in the water. Pidge and Hunk almost held their breath as Lance turned around, phone in his hands, ready to snap a picture, slowly realizing what was happening next to him.

 His face turned red almost instantly, not focused on the sea anymore, the phone threatening to fall from his trembling fingers. Keith had his back towards him fortunately, so Lance could stare as much as he wanted- not that this made him less creepy, but whatever.

 “Ugh- I can hear you, guys! Stop it, you bastards!” Lance suddenly screamed at them, awaken by their loud laughs- well, mostly Pidge's. He took a quick photo, threw a not-so-subtle last look at Keith, and started running towards the water with an angry expression.

 Maybe their spot wasn't completely soundproof…

 “Okay, okay, before you kill me, look at them !” Pidge managed to say as Lance grabbed her arms in an attempt to throw her under the water with his own weight. She pointed at Shiro and Allura, who apparently had become a subplot of the movie.

 Lance later had to admit that, from another point of view, gossiping about their friends was actually pretty funny, especially if everything was in plain sight in front of them, with no filters- was he like that just moments before? Oh god. How could Keith bear the tension on that beach?! Was he just so used to it he couldn't notice it anymore?

 The new protagonist of the cheesy romantic comedy, Allura, was taking off her dress to reveal a light blue one-piece which hugged her body shape perfectly- and it seemed like Shiro had noticed this little detail, judging by his attentive stare. Right after that, she put her hat down and invited the two boys to follow her, finally ready to join the rest of the group.

 Keith hesitated once again – which confused Lance: he didn't look like the type of guy who couldn't swim, or was afraid of the sea – so Allura grabbed his hand and forced him towards the shore while waving her other arm to include Shiro as well, who instead didn't need a physical push. Unlike Lance, he was pretty good at recovering and hiding his blush or any emotions under his usual dad smile. If the object of his frustration hadn't been his younger brother, maybe Lance would have considered asking some love advice.

 "How's the water?" Allura asked, tentatively sticking out her foot to touch it. Keith, now free from her grip, kept on staring at the waves with his eyes wide open, slightly backing up. What was up with him?!

 “C'mon, just go for it!” Pidge exclaimed, splashing some water towards her. Allura yelped and tried to shield herself with both arms, then laughed.

 “Okay, okay, here I come!” She announced before jumping between Pidge and Lance who, caught off guard, managed to move just in time to avoid her, but not the tsunami she created right after.

 Keith's bottom lip could have started bleeding at any time for how much he was torturing it with his teeth. His friends looked so amused, laughing and splashing water at each other, while he… was just there, a silent and useless presence who just occupied space for some reason. Plus, Lance was so beautiful with his hair wet, sticking to his head in a silly but adorable way, his dark skin shining when hit by the sun rays.

 He hated that feeling so much- part of him craved swimming, playing with his group, forgetting about everything for a day and acting like a normal person for once. The other part, unfortunately stronger, imagined the worst possible scenarios: what if he drowned? What if he had a crisis in the middle of the sea?

 And, as if that wasn't enough, something else had tormented his mind in the last days: what had exactly happened that night with Lance? He knew what he had done, obviously, and had regretted ever since, but he wasn't sure about the other's thoughts about it. Damn, he wasn't even sure Lance had understood what he meant. He wasn't really good at expressing himself clearly, so he was hoping the meaning behind his words had come through. Reading people's emotions still was a tricky skill. Besides, they hadn't explicitly talked about what they had – if they had anything, that is – and Keith couldn't even imagine asking, knowing the risk of making things uncomfortable between them and their friends. Even though, yeah, he had a little crush, he also considered Lance a friend he didn't want to lose.

 But... he couldn't say " I'm okay with just this ". Keeping his mouth shut, fully knowing he would have lived with that doubt, or talking with him with the possibility of a rejection? And even if he managed to introduce the conversation, was he ready to handle what would have come next? Was he ready to leave Jake behind and never look back again?

 “Hey, you ready?” Shiro asked him, implying a bigger question between just the two of them. Of course his brother had noticed his strange behavior, it was impossible hiding it from who only knew the story in general terms – Allura, Pidge and Hunk – let alone Shiro, who had lived it on his own skin for years.

 Keith nodded and took some steps further, immediately feeling his toes getting colder. Oh, that sensation was amazing. He missed it.

 Okay, one thing at a time: first, overcome his fear of being underwater. There was no need to rush. Keith could do it.

As soon as the entire squad got used to stay in the cold water, Allura brought her beach ball, immediately initiating a vicious match of volleyball. Everyone had, indeed, their own way to play: Lance, trying to catch the ball, fell underwater more times than he stood up, probably wanting to imitate a professional player- which Pidge made fun of him for. Allura, as everybody knew, was beyond competitive, so her launches were fatal- she didn't miss once. Hunk just enjoyed playing, no matter who won or lost, but his blows were strong, so he could be considered a threat. Keith didn't look really engaged- Lance knew, for a fact, he was competitive, so his behavior didn't make sense. When the ball wasn't thrown perfectly towards him, in a way he could easily catch it, he would just let it fall and faked frustration. Ugh, it wasn't even funny playing against him in those conditions.

 Pidge struggled a lot, being shorter than average- Lance had finally his revenge when she didn't catch his throw, plunging underwater right after. Shiro, who was competitive but didn't show it as much as Allura and remained fairly calm during the match, helped her standing up, so Lance accused him of playing favorites.

 "Just because things don't go as you want, loser!" She replied sticking out her tongue, the only thing restraining her from getting to Lance being Shiro's strong grip on her shoulder.

 Somehow, that little banter between them soon became another splashing water battle, this time more intense since the participants had doubled. Lance slyly ambushed Pidge from behind, shoving her underwater until she managed to get up again and threaten him- it was an hilarious sight for sure, everyone was laughing, but Keith couldn't enjoy the situation as much as he wanted to. He backed up hoping no one would notice, while Lance chose another victim of his tactic. 

Ugh... he wanted to have fun so much, to be like the others, but... just the thought of the water surrounding him like a trap, the deep dark blue that hid secrets from his eyes- that horrifying, sinister, deafening white noise, that same sound that stopped him from hearing the music he produced himself, making him the most useless musician ever, made him shiver uncontrollably. He just couldn't handle it. Hoping to overcome his fear that same day was too optimistic… c'mon, it was impossible. He had lived like that for years, where was the difference this time?

As he remembered his last crisis, a long and thin hand lay on his head and slightly applied pressure on it. He didn't even have time to say something, because the water had already filled his mouth.

The last thing he saw was the shock of terror on Shiro's face as he realized what was happening, and his scream shortly after. Then, darkness.

"Lance, wait, no-"

How could the silence be so loud?

Out of instinct and fear, Keith grabbed Lance's wrist, hoping he could use the grip to rise himself up as soon as possible. Fortunately, at the same time, Lance had stopped pushing down and instead was helping him, probably due to Shiro's reaction.

 As quickly as he had gone underwater, he got up again. Sounds and noises immediately hit him, overwhelmingly loud.

 Shiro had turned pale while he held him up. "Keith, are you okay?"

 "I'm so stupid, I should have remembered!" Hunk exclaimed, panicking. 

"I'm sorry Keith, oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't know-" Lance's voice cracked while he apologized for the millionth time, as if he was about to cry.

 "How are you feeling?" Pidge and Allura, both shocked, asked again, slowly getting closer to him.

 "I'm-" He coughed, the sea water's salty flavor still in his mouth, "I'm fine."

 After a moment of silence, the question Keith was expecting finally arrived.

 "What did you guys have to remember?" Lance gulped, still visibly shaken from the incident.

 Everyone looked at Keith, as if to silently ask permission to talk. Lance deserved to know, and Keith felt comfortable enough to share that secret with him. Mostly because he didn't want him to feel guilty about it, although he probably was already. So he nodded and let them explain.

 "Uh, Keith can't go underwater. He's terrified by the sea, just- sorry, did I say too much?" Hunk stopped and turned towards him, who just half-smiled and shook his head.

 "I'm sorry Keith, I was too relaxed and... forgot." Shiro sighed, putting a hand on his neck. The younger shook his head again, feeling like shit: Shiro couldn't even take a break for a day because he always had to deal with his stupid problems.

 "It's not your-" He stopped and looked around, "Where's Lance?"

 The spot filled by the boy just moments before was obviously empty, Keith didn't even have to look twice. Pidge put a hand over her eyes and scrutinize the beach, until, pointing to where their umbrellas and towels had been put, she shouted: "There!".

 Lance had indeed got out of the water and was now rapidly walking back to their space on the beach. He had been so fast and quiet no one had noticed in time.

 "What happened?" Allura questioned, alarmed. Hunk started swimming towards the shore, but Keith stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. His look was firm. "I'll go."

 And without adding anything else, he got out and made a beeline towards the beach, where Lance was crouching down with a towel around his shoulders, his back facing the sea.

Shiro, meanwhile, recalled everyone's attention by clearing his throat. With a nonchalant expression, he muttered: "Let's give them some privacy." and started swimming into the open sea. No one questioned it, and just followed him.

 Lance didn't move, although he had probably heard Keith arriving. With his head leaned on his knees, which were surrounded by his folded arms, he looked really tiny compared to how he was usually- vulnerable. Delicate.

 Keith realized only then that his impulsiveness had pushed him to follow Lance without thinking about what to say. That meant he had to improvise, something he didn't particularly excel at, especially if it concerned human interactions. So he just... had to act as natural as possible. If it had been Keith behaving like that, what would Lance have done?

 Keith huddled down right next to him, the sand slightly sinking under his weight. He figured, after seeing how similar situations had gone before, Lance would eventually just open to him- instead, the boy remained quiet, staring at a random point in front of them.

 Okay, then… it was his turn?

 “Lance-”

 “Don't talk.” Instantaneous. As if he was waiting.

 He faltered, taken aback by his harsh tone… it was almost like looking in the mirror- so that's what other people felt talking with him. His hand, as an instinct, reached out to move Lance's arm out of the way, at least to try seeing his face, but the other abruptly pulled away from his touch and glared at him. “Don't touch me!” He shouted as his eyes got watery.

 Keith was shocked, confused. He lowered his hand and desisted from touching him, not wanting to cause another angry reaction- but he couldn't giving up on talking. “Lance...” His voice broke midway. Oh, so he was that hurt.

 The other seemed to notice it as well, his eyes wider and almost shaking. Nonetheless, after a moment of hesitation, he suddenly got up and exclaimed: “Just leave me alone!” His tone still rough, but somehow weaker, as if he was forcing himself to keep up the facade. A tear escaped from his eye, and he rushed to dry it with the back of his hand.

 Keith was speechless at that point. Anyone could have succeeded in such a simple task – talking with a friend to resolve things – and he had managed to fail even in that. Keith knew he had his eyes wide open and his mouth half-gaping, but the surprise had been so big he couldn't restrain himself.

 They stared at each other for a second, until, finally, Lance's shield fell down and he came to his senses again, the panic visible on his face. He dropped on his knees, dramatically grabbing Keith's hands- he had definitely returned the Lance everyone knew. “I'm sorry Keith, it's not your fault...”

 He didn't reply, at a loss for words.

 Lance sighed. “I just… I always mess up.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Even now!” He exclaimed, frustrated. “I had the courage to get angry with you when the fault was mine- and before when we were playing in the water, and your hand at the skating rink, and Jake, and...”

 Keith squeezed Lance's hands as if to comfort him, but his gaze was anything but encouraging. It was very serious, almost upset.

 “You got angry because you hurt me?”

 Lance nodded, unsure.

 Keith didn't hesitate a moment before punching him on the shoulder. Lance cried out, immediately massaging the sore spot with a betrayed pout. “Are you fucking crazy?!”

 “YOU-” Keith started screaming, to then lower his voice in fear of being heard by their friends, “ You are crazy! I was worried to death, I thought you were mad at me for something! Instead you come up with this shit?!”

 “Y-you are deathly afraid of being underwater, and like a dickhead I decide to push your-” Lance started saying, getting closer to Keith's face unconsciously.

 “How could you know?”

 “That's not the-”

 “How. Could. You. Know?” Keith enunciated every word, sharply. His eyes were fixated on Lance's.

 The tan boy shut his mouth, dumbfounded. He seemed to ponder a little on that question. “… I couldn't.”

 Keith agreed, “Solved.” He said as he started standing up, ready to return in the water where their friends had resumed the volleyball match.

 “I'll only cause you troubles staying close to you.” Lance muttered again. As Keith was expecting, he still doubted himself. Ugh, why couldn't he understand he was far from being a problem? It was frustrating.

 However, Lance didn't need other anger thrown at him, he had enough self-loathing already. So he gently took his hand, squeezing it with a strength very different from the one he had used to punch him before.

 “Lance. I get in trouble by myself, you're just a more pleasant way to overcome it.”

 Did he say it out loud? Oh shit. Well, too late.

Lance, surprised by his sincerity, smiled softly, his cheeks flushed. “Careful with those compliments, I might get ahead of myself.”

 Keith burst out laughing, the first genuine one since that morning. “As if you didn't already, nerd.”

 And with that, they stood up, still holding hands as if it was the most natural thing ever. Then Keith, realizing it wasn't in fact normal between friends, remembered his thoughts earlier that day- what exactly were they? Did they have something? Was that the right time to discuss it?

 “Listen- can we… can we talk?” Those words came out from his mouth in a rush, not giving him enough time to think.

 Lance visibly tensed and let go Keith's hand, as if that question had made him realize they were still holding each other. The action, despite its meaning being pretty obvious – or at least, from Keith's point of view – was not meant to be impolite, as he could judge by the gentle smile on his face.

 “Of course, later though, okay?”

 And with that they were back in the water, as if nothing had happened. No one asked questions or made comments, they just said hello and updated them on the new activity they were doing: a swim race to the death, two against two, in which Keith took the part of the not-so-impartial referee.

 Maybe Keith wasn't good with words. Maybe he wasn't the best at comforting people with kindness. And maybe it was also thanks to Lance, who could forgive easily and didn't like holding a grudge against anyone for too long.

 But, judging by his beaming smile towards Keith whenever they had the chance to look at each other, maybe he was learning to do these things. Maybe he could really… be better.

Oh boy.

That question.

“Can we talk?”

Lance wasn't ready. At all. He thought he was, after that conversation with Pidge and Hunk, but of course it was easier saying he was ready than actually acting on it, duh .

 He knew what they had to talk about- about them. And, in a way, he wanted as well, but… ugh, the fear was eating him alive. How could he look at that beautiful stupid face and hear “I don't want anything with you”? “I don't like you in that way, let's just stay friends”? Or worse, “I actually still like Jake, bye”?! Yeah, there was a percentage where he could have said he reciprocated his feelings, but- it was a possibility, not a matter of fact! How could he just hope things would go as he wanted? Life didn't work like that for him, ever. What was different this time?!

 Sure, as if the cutest guy in the world could be really interested in you. Keep on dreaming, Lance.

 His heart, whenever Keith and he interacted, hurt so much. Those purple eyes, that little shy smile, the gentle touch of his hand when he noticed Lance was frustrated- he could just dream about giving those gestures a deeper significance.

 He wasn't his first choice, and he was never going to be. Jake just had to appear again and Keith's heart would have been his forever. Sigh .

 “Oh, I have an idea!” Hunk clapped excitedly, sitting on his towel next to Shiro's. “Each one of us has to say a fact about themselves that the others may not know.”

 After changing from their swimsuits to regular underwear – “ Keeping on your bathing suit after going swimming is dangerous!” Allura had said, like the apprehensive mom she was – they had gathered all the towels in a circle around a bonfire, which took twenty minutes to light up, due to the colder night breeze. Not so far from that, they had set up three tents where they would have slept later- although they looked already tempting for the most tired ones of the group.

 The sun had already set, giving space to the enchanting moon which cast the perfect light for a late-night chat between friends. Lance wasn't in the best mood for it, but he wanted to enjoy those days as much as possible, and his feelings couldn't always get in the way. “Get the ball rolling, Hunk.”

 He thought about it for a second. “I got it! I'm allergic to pollen.” Everyone grumbled and voiced their opinion.

 “Hunk, we all know it. It's not a secret.” Keith chuckled, rolling his eyes. Lance wondered if the proximity of their towels had been just a coincidence, or if Keith had put his there on purpose.

 “You say it every spring.” Pidge added.

 “And last week, there wasn't even pollen!” Lance commented, stifling a grin.

 Shiro rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Well, I kinda knew it too...”

 The group started laughing as Hunk scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “It's just that I'm not an adventurous or mysterious guy, and I've done mostly everything with Pidge and Lance! Actually, dude, go ahead!” He looked at the latter. 

He contemplated for a while, mostly because he hoped to remember something cool to impress Keith, until something came up. “Ah, yes! One time in tenth grade I sneaked into my school because my classmates wanted the solutions for a test, and I don't know how I managed to run away as soon as the alarm turned on. To this day, no one knows that it was Mr. Lance McClain to fuck them over.”

 “Lance, language.” Shiro immediately scolded him, albeit hiding an amused smirk for that story.

 “You're crazy. What if they caught you?” Keith asked, frowning.

 “They didn't!” He sing-sang.

 “Yeah, but-”

 “I know how this spat will go, so: it didn't happen, I'm safe and sound and here to tell you this, end of the story, Keithy boy.” He winked at him, who just huffed and rolled his eyes, before turning towards Pidge, “Okay Pidgeon, hit me with your best one!”

 She didn't have to think, probably having her story ready to be told. “Once I hackered this guy's blog because I hated him, changing all of his photos with pictures of dic-”

 “Katie!” Shiro hissed, almost throwing himself to stop her. Sometimes Lance pitied him: being the group's dad looked like a lot of work, especially when they teased him on purpose.

 She smugly cackled, followed by everyone else- except Shiro, who ultimately gave in and smiled, not knowing Pidge's next plan. “Okay, well, since he always acts like a Good Samaritan, let's hear what Shiro has done.” She maliciously smirked.

 The older sighed and tried to find something intriguing. “I once went skinny-dipping with my classmates at midnight?”

 Silence dropped for a moment.

 “Wait- you mean NAKED?” Lance shouted all of a sudden.

 Shiro blushed and lowered his gaze, without giving a reply- at the same time, his reaction was basically the answer to that. Keith immediately opened his mouth, taken by surprise.

 “Are you for real?! Eeeew, Takashi!” He exclaimed, disgusted, but the smirk after betrayed him. His brother jokingly nudged him and shrugged, still blushing a little. To worsen things, they all started a chant of “ Uuuuh”, Allura's slightly more high-pitched and louder than the others.

 “Since you wanna mess around so much, let's hear your secret!” Shiro challenged Keith, raising his voice to talk over everyone else's. He initially nagged, rolling his eyes with his arms folded. Then, he became quiet for a moment, his features more serious, as if he had to concentrate really hard on what he was thinking.

 “I have a phobia of being underwater because the sound of the waves reminds me of my crisis, where I can't hear the sound of the piano. It feels like I'm in the sea and even if I play the keys nothing comes out of them. I've been afraid for years.”

Again, silence. This time, however, much heavier.  

Although everyone already knew it, now Lance included, it was still a shock hearing Keith talking about it so openly. It had been a secret between Shiro and he for many years, then Allura learned about it, then Pidge and Hunk… but they had never known the full story, and didn't want to invade Keith's privacy. It was a big step for him, indeed.

 “I'm sorry...” Lance muttered, feeling bad about it. He knew, deep down, Keith didn't want to guilt-trip him for that morning, but he couldn't help it. He had fucked up and felt horribly.

 “I already told you.” He wasn't angry, nor annoyed. His voice had no emotion, although the realization of having said one of his biggest secrets out loud had started to weigh on him- his back was rigid, his bottom lip shaking almost imperceptibly.

 “Thanks for trusting us with that, Keith.” Allura's warmly smile managed to transmit him the confidence he lacked of, judging by how he slightly relaxed his posture. He had to know he could trust his friends. He could rely on them.

 “I guess it's your turn, Allura.”

 She put her chin on the palm of her hand, looking up to think. “When I was little, I had the biggest crush on Ash Ketchum from Pokémon. I had, like, twelve posters of him in my room.”

 Lance lit up as soon as he heard those words, temporarily forgetting about his inner thoughts: “Really? I had a crush on him too!”

 They all giggled as both started fangirling on Ash, telling each other their favorite memories of him and why they loved him so much- something Lance would have never imagined to do, but well, that group of friends was full of surprises for sure.  

 Gradually, one after another, everyone started to get sleepy. The first one to surrender was Pidge, who got carried in Shiro's arms to her tent. Allura, the one who shared the tent with her, was the second, funnily enough. Dangling a little she rubbed her eyes and said goodnight to all- and then, hoping no one would notice being too tired, she softly stroked Shiro's shoulders, earning the blush she so much loved. She waved her hand, satisfied, and went to sleep.

 Hunk nearly suffocated Shiro when, half-asleep, he fell down on the side where the other was sitting, but he managed to catch him before hitting the ground. “It's time to go to sleep, don't you think, buddy?” The older muttered, to which Hunk responded by vigorously nodding with his eyes already closed.

 “Well guys, goodnight. Keith, don't stay up too late.” Shiro announced lightly to not disturb Hunk's sleep, although it was impossible: not even the great flood would have woken him up. Keith rolled his eyes and waved his hand to brush him off, annoyed by his excessive worry.   

 Shiro smiled at both of them and took leave, carrying Hunk in his arms while he swung like a dead weight. It was difficult to lie him down without risking to hit his head against the floor, but in the end he succeeded and finally went to sleep.

 By then, the fire was the only source of noise remained. The sea was so calm it almost looked firm, not even a wave forming. Keith didn't dare to move a muscle, afraid that if he did Lance could have gone to sleep without talking to him before. To avoid this possibility, therefore, he decided to take the first step.

 “Lance, I wanna clarify that I did not share my fear to make you feel guilty. I wanted to share it because I felt it was right introducing you to a part of me I would like to defeat. You all deserve to know more about me, since I probably come off as a stranger most of the time.”

 Despite Lance remaining silent while drawing circles on the sand with his foot, his eyes not daring to rise, Keith could notice his stupor by the way his hands relaxed, not clenched into fists anymore. That was a start.

 “It's not like that...”  Lance tried to reply, his words slurred from being so tired, to then stop. “Okay, not always .”

 Keith huffed, smiling. “I know. I'm sorry.”

 “I can help you, if you want.”

 Something seemed to miss from that conversation, because Keith had no idea what he was talking about. He shook his head, confused, but Lance kept on looking at his masterpiece on the sand. “With what?”

 “With… your fear of the water.”

 “You-” Keith swallowed. “You want to help me overcome my fear of being underwater?” He asked as clearly as possible, to make sure he had understood. Because if that was the case, he would have had to restrain any muscle of his body to avoid grabbing his face and kissing the hell out of him. That was the most adorable thing he had ever heard.

 Lance asserted carefully. “If you want.” He repeated, shrugging. Despite his nonchalance, Keith swore he could see a spark of some kind in his eyes.

 He couldn't believe it. Lance would have gained absolutely nothing by helping him with his fear- and yet, he had offered his help for one of the biggest problems in Keith's life. Just because he had felt like doing it.

 If Keith still had had some doubts on his feelings, now those had been completely solved. He was 100% gone for him.

 “Tomorrow morning?”

 Lance nodded. “I saw some rocks towards the open sea, we could sit on them between dives.”

 “Okay.”

 Although it had been a pretty short and awkward conversation, on both of their faces a genuine smile had appeared. And speaking of awkward conversations, they still had some unfinished business. Was it the right moment? Maybe Lance didn't want to deal with it.

 “Uh, regarding that talk-”

 Incredible. It was like Lance could read his mind.

 “Yeah, the talk. Yes.”

 “Shall we do it tomorrow?”

 Not gonna lie, Keith was a little upset to postpone it again. It seemed like Lance didn't really want to address it, which made him even more nervous. Maybe he didn't want to talk because it made him uncomfortable, or because he wanted to avoid breaking Keith's heart, something like that. 

On the other hand… he could stay close to Lance one last time before being rejected. He could sleep with him, without having to give that a weight, or a meaning. Tomorrow Lance was going to help him as a friend, then they were gonna talk. And that imaginary thing was going to finish as it had started.

 Quick and painless. Quick and… Keith hoped his eyes were not lucid.

“Yeah.”

Lance would have liked to say he didn't remember that night- but he would have lied. Any little detail was so vivid in his mind that he almost felt a headache. He didn't want to forget anything.

 After a clumsy exchange of “We should go to sleep” and “Yeah, we're in the- the same tent” without actually moving from their towels as though they feared anything could happen, they had finally found the courage and headed to their shared tent, careful to be quiet in order to not wake up everyone. Keith couldn't stop yawning, which was the cutest thing ever- but Lance warded off that thought, reminding himself what was awaiting him the day after. The talk. Everything would change from then.

 He sighed and lay down on his beach mat with his back facing Keith, who mirrored him in complete silence. Their bodies didn't even touch by accident, and that was okay.

 Lance was closing his eyes in hope to get some sleep, when he suddenly felt warmness at the height of his side.

 His eyes widened in shock, his body still as he recognized the warm source was Keith's arm around his hip. Was he dreaming? No, he was completely awake now. Not a trace of exhaustion- on the contrary, his senses were hyper aware: the extreme closeness of their bare skins touching was causing them chills, so he could feel the small bumps on Keith's arm. 

Taking a risk, he reached out a hand and put it over Keith's. As soon as he did, it almost seemed like the other was waiting his permission to act again, because he instantly placed his face into the crook of his neck- a wave of shudders made him twitch, Keith's hair tickling his skin. In that position Lance could smell its natural good scent, albeit the salty undertone of the sea water. 

The atmosphere was so relaxing he started drifting off to sleep- but something missed. Keith had moved closer for a reason, not just randomly or because he wanted some kind of human contact. It just wasn't Keith-like. He was waiting Lance's permission again.

So he rolled over to face the other boy, whose features would have been indistinguishable if it weren't for the moonlight peeking through the transparent tent curtain. Their faces were very close, so close he could see his own reflection into the boy's violet eyes. His arm had not moved.

“Lance...” Keith's warm breath hit against his lips as he muttered his name. He nodded with his eyes closed to let him know he was listening, but nothing was said for a few minutes. For a moment he thought Keith had fallen asleep, until he heard some movements.

“Why didn't you want to talk today?”

There was no need to ask what he meant. Lance froze, stunned by the abrupt question. He extended his arm to reach Keith's raven bangs, slowly caressing them, to then switch to the smooth sides of his face. “This head full of messy hair can't ever stop overthinking, right?” He whispered as a reply, earning a pinch on his tummy.

Keith snorted. “I'm serious, dork.” He tried to sound rigid, but it was impossible falling for it, since he had put his hand on top of Lance's as he kept on playing with his hair. Man, it was hard being sincere when your crush's face was two inches away.

“I'm afraid of- you know, the scary ' I need to talk to you ' kinda thing. It sounds so… official. I wanted to spend this night calmly, just me and you, two bros.” He swallowed down the anxiety, hoping his white lie – although, on one side, it was true – could convince him for the moment.  

Keith didn't react, his arms now resting in the space between their bodies. Thinking he had somehow offended him, Lance stopped caressing his hair and almost put his hand back on the mattress, until the other grabbed him again and got closer, surrounding his hip with his arm like before. He snuggled his face in Lance's neck curve, and the latter was basically struck by his perfume once again, finding his nose and mouth against Keith's hair. Almost as if it could have been out of habit, Lance buried his hand in it, gently caressing the black locks- except, nothing like that had ever happened before.

Wow. What the hell.

“Sleep, McClain.” Keith muttered, his lips lightly pressed against Lance's chest. By the quivering of his body, he figured the other was giggling.

Later, both fell asleep.

Chapter Text

“At the end of the year I'm gonna give them a photo album!”

“Good idea, Pidge. Approved.”

“Can I have it too?”

“Allura?!”

“C'mon Shiro, did you see them? They're so cute!”

“Guys, they're waking up, it's better we leave before they hear us...”

“Ugh, I'm stuck! Hunk, you have to come out first!”

“Whose idea was it to get this close just to take some pictures? Not mine, Katie.”

“You old people are so boring.”

They managed to get out of the tent's little entrance which they had carefully opened to take pictures of the two love birds, who were still sleeping over each other. There was no risk waking up Lance, since he slept like a rock, but Keith, in theory, was a dangerous obstacle- Shiro was impressed by the fact he hadn't woken up just after hearing some steps, but he was probably so comfortable in Lance's arms that he had allowed himself to let his guard down for once.

That realization, as scary as it sounded, made him smile: Lance was a good guy, the opposite of Jake, so Keith was in good hands. Shiro hoped his little brother could be finally happy this time, if their relationship was going to escalate one day. By the way, was he really getting so old he couldn't recognize pining anymore? If his friends hadn't told him, hadn't made him notice little things – like how one always looked at the other secretly and viceversa, how they often vanished together and came back red as tomatoes, or when they talked, even while bickering, they always had a soft expression –, that situation would have slipped through his fingers until… their marriage, perhaps?!

So Keith was right. He was old. Ouch.

When Pidge had woken up that morning, her first thought had been going to peek inside the McKogane's tent, – yes, she already had nicknames she couldn't wait to use with them – after shaking Allura to be accompanied. At first she wasn't prone to wake up quickly, but when Pidge explained her plan it seemed like any trace of sleep had vanished from her face. They stopped by Hunk and Shiro's, finding – not surprisingly – the former occupying three quarters of the space while snoring contentedly, and the latter already awake doing crunches. Allura faltered a little when she saw his muscles stretching, but tried to hide it.

“How did you do that?” Pidge asked as she pointed at the big guy – who was now hugging his pillow –, admiring Shiro as an Olympian God. Whenever she had to sleep with Hunk, she always spent the night wide awake and crushed under his weight. Lance resisted a little more, but ultimately ended up following her in another room after a maximum of thirty minutes. Hunk apologized every time, at least. Poor guy, he just couldn't control his limbs.

Shiro shrugged. “I adapt to any situation easily.”

“Adopt me.” Pidge had whispered with a spark in her eyes, struck by his courage. Allura and Shiro's stifled laughs made Hunk wake up, who raised his bust up in a weirdly robotic way.

“You ready, Hunk?”

The other didn't reply right away. He turned to pick up his orange headband to then tie it around his head. “Damn straight.”

With the gang finally gathered, Pidge started to dictate instructions as if they had been in the military- Shiro was a little surprised by the amount of preparation Pidge and Hunk had for this occasion, but also amused. Allura was super excited, for some reason. She looked so cute, Shiro thought- he had to confess, sooner or later. He couldn't lose his possibility to conquer such a beautiful girl.

“Okay, soldiers. Let's go!”

They all crouched down in front of the two victims' tent. Hunk placed his ear against the fabric to assure there were no odd noises – just the thought of his little brother doing that stuff made Shiro shiver – and when he gave the green light Allura slowly pulled up the zipper, allowing Pidge and Hunk to fit both their torsos inside the tent. The photo shoot started: one panoramic to start, one from above, one from the corner. Pidge then passed her phone to Hunk, who having longer arms could take spectacular close-ups of their faces. You could literally see the trickle of saliva coming from Lance's mouth, magnificent.

“They're gonna kill us.” Hunk muttered, giggling quietly. Despite his apparent naivety and sense of justice, he kind of liked doing these things with Pidge, even though being more scared.

“First they have to bust us.” Pidge replied without hesitation. That was the difference between the two partners in crime. Incredible how much malice could exist in a body that little.

Shiro later made them promise to never mention how they had found Lance and Keith in the tent, as soon as they managed to got out of it after taking photos. This included jokes and innocent digs, he had then added looking at Pidge- that kid had to be monitored, you couldn't leave her alone.

Their little adventure, therefore, had finished after noticing the happy couple was starting to wake up and hurried to leave before being seen. No words on them. As if nothing had ever happened- as if there weren't five photos on Pidge's phone of them sleeping. She needed to put a password for the gallery. Lance liked to mind others' businesses a lot.

The group, while preparing breakfast, just threw a look at the tent when Lance's head popped out of the entrance and looked around with sleepy eyes. He then went back inside, without saying a word. Before making a comment, Pidge waited a few seconds- or at least, she was about to, but her faithful pupil Allura was quicker.

“He's waking up Keith!!” She muttered, giggling excitedly while covering her mouth. Pidge almost shed a tear for the pride she felt.

Shiro furrowed his eyebrows and gazed back at the tent, staring hard as if he could see through it. He didn't understand what was making him so nervous about that situation- Keith seemed comfortable, Lance was by now a close friend in their group, and nothing was serious between them, judging by their clumsiness around each other. He had trust in both, so why was he so insecure about what could happen? Maybe because of Keith's issues and general standoff behavior?

Aggressiveness or not, Keith was old enough to take care of himself, at least in that field, especially since it was something so personal and new, in a way: Shiro had never seen his brother smile that much when he was with Jake, and Lance wasn't forcing anything. They were just going with the flow of the events.

Plus, it seemed like the guy didn't care about Keith's bursts of anger, or better: he did care, to the point of retorting with the same venom, no matter the reaction- and that often kept Keith at bay. He had found someone who could make him calmer, laugh, vent, ponder. And even though Shiro didn't know him as he knew his brother, maybe Lance was learning something too, thanks to Keith.

He sighed and relaxed a bit.

Yeah. They made a really good team.

“Keithy...” Lance whispered in Keith's ear.

He gently started stroking his hair, unable to restrain himself from caressing that soft black mop, and at the touch the other stretched with his eyes closed, idly humming.

“Do you remember what we agreed on doing today?” Lance continued, lying down again next to him. He rubbed his fingers on Keith's skin, just to see the goosebumps appear. He wished to learn every inch of that body by memory, to remember every reaction Keith had when he touched him. Like how chills always made their way on his skin- less pale than usual after a day on the beach, how his now more visible freckles scattered his nose as stars in the sky. Despite Keith wasn't a fan of the sun, Lance thought its effects on him were very endearing.

“Yeah… the immersions.” The boy finally replied before lifting up and stretch his arms once again. This move instigated Lance to reach him with a hand and slowly trace the outline of his figure, from the tensed underarms to the thin hip that stuck out from his red shorts. Keith jerked his arms down, suddenly turning the same color of his slacks, and stopped Lance's hands with his, pouting at first- but when he saw the other's flirty grin, a shy laugh slipped out of his mouth. This instantly cheered Lance up. He had started to notice that when Keith smiled thanks to him, he himself felt happier. He could get used to… this.

“I'm awake. Breakfast?”

“Sure! Let's go.”

As soon as both got out, they managed to catch all of their friends' stares at the tent in time. Everyone turned back and faked nonchalance, apparently more interested in the various foods they had prepared for breakfast. Lance and Keith just huffed and ignored them, too hungry to care.

“Good morning, dearests!”

“'Morning.”

Shiro reciprocated both greetings in a normal manner, although being equally guilty of staring among the nosy group. Allura seemed weirdly excited to see them – Lance, oblivious, threw some typical finger guns at her, paired with a wink –, while Pidge was resting on Hunk's shoulder with her eyes closed and her lips reduced to a thin line, looking like she was feeling physical pain (They didn't know that, but she was just holding back jokes).

The two boys sat down in the same place as the night before, where everyone had left their own towel, and grabbed something to eat as Allura poured hot coffee in two plastic cups from her thermos. Since the morning air was cooler, a hot beverage was ideal despite being summer, so they gladly accepted.

Lance, in the meantime, was trying his best to stifle the smile that threatened to appear in his face for no apparent reason- or at least, for the others. He obviously knew why: he was just… so fucking happy. Waking up next to Keith, having the privilege to caress his skin and be close to him… that was something he had dreamed for a very long time, and he couldn't believe it had just happened. He squeezed the cup in his hands and drank in silence, indulging in some headcanons about what type of couple they could have been.

“Couple”. That word, once sounding thousands of galaxies away, now was simply in front of him, as if waiting for him to grab it and make everything real.

Because he had a possibility, and he finally knew.

“We're gonna go swimming for the last time at about ten, then we'll leave before lunch.” Shiro informed them, and both idly nodded. Lance fixed his posture and realized how embarrassing the next sentences were going to sound out loud.

“Actually- Keith is taking diving lessons today.”

The aforementioned was about to bite his apple until he heard him, and stopped to throw him a glare.

“Diving?” Asked Shiro, curios.

“Yes, he wants to learn to go underwater without panicking.”

“And you're going to be his teacher?”

“Not to brag, but water is my element.” Lance proudly announced putting a hand on his chest. Cuban blood, baby.

Keith rolled his eyes. “You just bragged.”

Lance didn't skip a beat and pointed a finger towards him. “Shut up, or I could decide to drown you!” to which Keith didn't reply with the middle finger just because Shiro was there.

“Okay, but don't go too far away. And be careful.”

Keith stood up with a smirk. “Yes, mom.”

Shiro gave up on replying since the two had already started annoying each other with jabs and jokes while they walked towards the shore.

“Did those two really sleep together without killing each other?” The question came out so spontaneously that Shiro almost didn't notice he had said it out loud. Like, he knew they were “a thing”, according to his friends – and now according to himself, after finding them sleeping so close and comfortably –, but seeing them getting along to the point of sharing a tent and swimming together seemed so anti-climatic: just a month before, they couldn't exist in the same spot without fighting. That was really an improvement for both, so yeah, he confirmed his previous epiphany: they were growing together, learning from each other.

(Yeah yeah, maybe he was taking it too seriously- but it was his little brother they were talking about. He couldn't just take it easy and laugh about it as Pidge.)

The girl in question released her breath as if she had held it since Lance and Keith had arrived to when they went away. Which was very probable.

“The swim coach!” She exclaimed, to then laugh while clenching her belly. Hunk was immediately influenced and joined her.

Allura's blue eyes were glimmering as she turned towards Shiro with a big smile on her face. “I'm so happy for Keith!”

That sincerity floored him.

Lance had convinced Keith to overcome his biggest fear in, like, a day. Something Shiro himself hadn't ever tried to force him to do, already knowing he wouldn't want to. Instead his little brother looked fairly relaxed, almost amused, as Lance pulled him by an arm to reach the water and touch it with their feet.

Lance pushed Keith to dare, to get out from his shell. To discover more of himself.

“Me too.”

“First question: why do you want to learn how to swim underwater?”

Lance had started his self-titled “professional” training with an easy position, the corpse pose, which put the head in direct contact with the water, but Lance made sure to have one hand on his back and the other under his head in order to support him enough to avoid getting water inside his ears. Keith opened his eyes to give him a dirty look.

“Because you asked me. How could this affect my learn-”

Lance used the fingers that touched his back skin to pinch him. “Ah-ah-ah! Never contradict your teacher!”

“You're not- okay, whatever. There's not a particular reason.”

He shook his head, disappointed. “There has to be.”

Because I want to swim with you. I want to see your face underwater and kiss you.

“Because I want to swim with you guys.”

Okay, that was not the full truth, but it was close. Lance's expression softened in a smile, his cheeks lightly darker. Ugh, so cute. How did he manage to annoy him the minute before and be adorable the next?! Was Keith just very weak?

Yes. He was.

After succeeding in staying in the corpse pose without Lance's support, they tried doing short immersions which lasted for a few seconds each. Lance maintained him from the shoulders, and at the end of the countdown they dived in the water and resurfaced right after.

The rest of the group had moved on their towels close to the shore so they could see them a little better, but not too much to make them aware of their looks. They all felt like proud parents.

“Keith… is really doing it.”

“Yes Shiro, it's the fourth time you say it.”

Allura giggled. “Look, they're lengthening the time!”

They tried to stay under for fifteen seconds, but Keith emerged before Lance, completely breathless and a little pale. He seemed scared, but when the other one got out his expression changed in an apologetic smile. Lance stroke his head to comfort him before they tried again until, when Pidge checked the timer on her phone, Keith reached twenty seconds. That was… impressive.

“He's… really doing it.”

“Shiro.”

Keith had understood that the only way to pull it off was fixating his eyes on Lance's face without focusing on what was surrounding him- his eyes stung a bit for the salt, but he preferred it over having a full panic attack. Instead of the sinister noise of the sea, Keith thought about Lance's voice encouraging him.

“You see those?” Lance pointed at some distant rocks in the open sea, “One day you'll be able to go there and stay underwater without being afraid. I'm betting on it!”

Keith hesitated for a moment, an idea growing in his mind. He had noticed that, even though Lance was the usual goofy boy who cracked jokes whenever he could, he also seemed very serious, resolute on helping him. He really wanted Keith to succeed.

“What if we tried today?”

There. He said it. No turning back now.

“Uh-” Lance froze, worried. “Are… are you sure? You don't have to, if you're not comfortable.”

Keith took a long breath. “Yes. I know.”

The other fiddled until, finally, a soft smile spread on his face, “Well, you've been great so far. Why not!” He exclaimed with a new-found confidence, already swimming towards the open sea, then followed by the other one after another shuddering breath.

Although the insecurity, Keith was pretty fast, as long as his head was outside of the water- sure, not as quick as Lance, but duh. He was basically born in the ocean! “I can't imagine being afraid of the water and still trying to swim and being good at it, that takes a lot of courage!” had said Lance, and Keith had barely hid a blush.

They started by being close to the rocks, Keith holding to one with a hand, the other on Lance's shoulder. Hard to admit due to being used to self-deprecation, but he was really doing improvements in a short time. He wouldn't even have believed it one month ago, and now he was there, going underwater and actually managing to stay down for more than two seconds… thanks to Lance. He was forever grateful, especially because his security was growing thanks to the trust the other had in him. Perhaps he could heal from all the trauma he had behind, little by little.

“Let's move a little further, away from the rocks.” Keith affirmed, without waiting for a reply- he had to do it. For Lance, for his friends, for himself. He had to prove a point.

After a multitude of “Are you sure?”, Lance gave up and accompanied him a little far away, but not too much, since both of them weren't completely confident. Keith, however, knew he had to try, to feel satisfied- yeah, maybe he was a little too stubborn and didn't really have to do it since no one expected something from him, but his mind just worked like that: the thing had to be done perfectly, or not be done at all.

So he prepared mentally, both hands on Lance's shoulders, Lance's voice in his head, Lance's face in front of him. Instead of focusing on the sea around him, Keith focused on the one captured in Lance's eyes, deciding that was the safest and most beautiful of all seas, and he would have swam there endlessly.

They counted from five, and at one they went underwater.

Everything from then happened… very fast.

And, at the same time, painfully slow.

He should have known it better, but the more the water was deep, the more noise it made. That meant not even Lance's voice could overpower it. And that meant… panic.

First his eyes, cracked open, began to sting painfully, yet his sight wasn't blurry- on the contrary, he could see everything clearly, like he had put on contacts. Lance looked so limpid it hurt, the borders of his body harsh and cartoon-y.

The loud ring in his ears merged with the sound of the sea, creating an explosion of overwhelming noises. He tried to call Lance, but his voice came out as nothing more than silent bubbles.

His body started shuddering, his palms feeling sweaty even though being already wet. It was like the water had disappeared and he was just floating in the emptiness, surrounded by white noise and darkness.

Although… at some point, he eventually would fall. There was nothing under, just a terrifying black vastness of nothing. Oh god, his feet couldn't touch the ground. Where was the damn ground?!

Oh god, I'm falling down.

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die, fuck.

Blank. His mind went blank, unable to form sensible thoughts.

He needed to… to do something. What? Were was he? The rocks. He needed to reach the rocks. They were too far away. Why were they so fucking away!

Lance. The loudest thought among the others, tangled and nauseously repetitive. He searched for him because for some reason everything now seemed distant, and when he found him in the same place as before he established Lance wasn't feeling like him: his eyes were just wide in fright, his body frozen in place had it not been for the need of moving his limbs from time to time to stay afloat, but he wasn't panicking. So he could save him from the inevitable plummet in the void.

Keith had to grab him.

In his mind, he had just gently reached out and put a hand on Lance's shoulder, but judging by how the latter widened his eyes even more and tried to say something, he hadn't. Instead he had climbed on him, putting all his weight on Lance, desperately trying to hold on to something so he wasn't going to fall down, while flailing his limbs like crazy, hoping to get to the surface quicker. His plan, obviously, had… some holes.

They both plunged down in an instant, and Keith was positive they were going to die, at that point.

“Lance-” He heard himself saying, but again, only bubbles and a strangled noise. However, trying to talk underwater with not enough oxygen already wasn't the best thing to do- he would have known if his damn mind hadn't gone mad. In fact, any remain in his lungs soon finished, leaving him breathless and gasping for air, finding water instead- which just contributed to push him further down, shoving a barely conscious Lance as well.

Great, he had probably hit him while flapping his arms, the trickle of blood coming from his nose and now floating in the water as a distinct proof of the accident. At least he hadn't fainted, but fuck, he was losing blood because of him.

It was too much… too much, oh my god. He felt like ripping his hair and scream, or reaching out to try shaking Lance awake, but his arms weren't responding anymore. Every part of his body felt weak, a dead weight forcing him down.

His lids were so heavy… he was sleepy. But something very far, perhaps his remaining rationality, thought closing his eyes wasn't a good idea. He didn't understand why.

As he decided a nap sounded good, two hands grabbed him from the shoulders and moved him forward. Lance abruptly slapped his cheek, becoming clearer in front of Keith's eyes: he looked more awake than before, only a faint stain of blood under his nostril, already washing away with the water. Well, if they had to die, at least the last image he would see was Lance's gorgeous face. His only regret… not telling him his feelings.

Then, out of the blue, Lance kissed him.

Keith didn't even have the time to process it. And even if he tried, it didn't make sense in his mind, despite the chaos inside it: a kiss at the point of death sounded romantic, but not very logical… until Keith understood why he was starting to feel better, more alert, and the sleepiness didn't threaten his eyes to close anymore.

Lance had shared his oxygen with him to help him breathe. And now that Keith wasn't flapping his limbs frenetically, he could grab his wrist and swim towards the surface, rescuing both. Keith attempted to move his legs, not wanting to cause any more problems than he already had, but the new oxygen wasn't enough to regain strength. So he closed his eyes, hoping Lance could forgive him.

Meanwhile Allura, Hunk, Pidge and Shiro, after having established the two lovebirds were doing okay and didn't need supervision, had decided to relax on the shore- who read a book, who sunbathed, who played tennis. As the morning before, the beach was pretty empty aside from some people far away from them. The breeze was soothing, the sea very calm, everything screamed peace.

Until Pidge stopped, almost risking to get hit in the face by the tennis ball, and threw a look at the sea, “Guys… last time I checked, Lance and Keith were underwater. It was like two minutes ago.”

Shiro immediately dropped the book he was reading and stood up, concerned. He searched around with his gaze, maybe hoping he could see them behind the rocks, but nothing. They had disappeared. What if...

“What do we do?” Allura asked while the group made a beeline towards the sea to take a better look, “Should we call 911?”

As she said it, Lance suddenly appeared between the waves taking the biggest gasp of air, Keith in his arms. He dragged the other on top of the closest rock, laying him down while he tried to make his breath steady. From that distance they couldn't really understand the circumstance, but they assumed a dive had gone wrong- at least they were safe now. Keith lifted himself up on his elbows and although looking rough, he was conscious and breathing.

“I'm going there.” Shiro announced and almost jumped in the water, but Hunk stopped him pointing at the rocks.

“Wait! They're talking.” He whistled. “Uh-oh, Lance looks mad.”

Allura nodded and put a hand on Shiro's back. “I think we have to give them time. You can kill them later.”

“But...” Shiro began, but everyone stared at him until he gave up. “Fine. They'll hear me!”

“Keith, are you okay? Are you breathing?”

Lance had used all his strength to carry Keith's body up to the rock, hoping he hadn't passed out. Hoping that bit of oxygen he had given him had helped him at least a little… it had been an action so instinctive that he realized he had kissed him just in that moment. Their first decent kiss… in that situation. Wow. With Keith, anything normal could always take an unpredictable twist that Lance never even got close to guess. It was fun in some ways- well, not the almost-died part, of course.

Oh, speaking of. They were alive.

Barely. But they were alive!

Oh my god I almost died. If mama knew, she would end me.

Noticing Keith had lay down again with his eyes closed, Lance made an effort to get close and check on him. To then kill him. That bastard.

“Hey?” Lance sat at the height of Keith's hips and leaned on his hands at the sides of Keith's head, so he could properly look at his face. “Are you dead?”

Keith nodded and Lance took a sigh of relief at first, before remembering he was super angry with him. “Keith, it was too dangerous and you knew it! We could have died. I was SO scared for you, don't ever do this again!”

The dark-haired boy didn't reply and put both hands on Lance's shoulders, squeezing them. After a long pause, he opened his violet eyes and just muttered, “I almost died.”

Lance grumbled. “Yes, you idiot, that's what I just said.”

“I almost died-” Keith repeated, pulling him closer from the shoulders. “And you saved my life.”

“Well, I'm not gonna deny it...”

“You risked your life to save mine.”

A blush made its way on Lance's cheeks, suddenly feeling self-aware and embarrassed. He couldn't look at Keith's face anymore, not even realizing the aforementioned was wrapping his hands around his neck. The moment of weakness passed and Lance tried to deal, for once, with what had happened moments ago- they couldn't ignore this too. Sure, focusing was hard with that beautiful face at a few inches. Okay, okay, enough! “Keith, we can't just pretend-”

“Let's play that game from yesterday.”

Lance squawked, attempted to form a sensible sentence various times, but was completely baffled by the randomness of the propose. Like, what?! He was the one that had got hit in the face, not Keith, right? “Okay, did the water get inside your brain?! You just risked to die and that fucking game is your first thought?”

Keith ignored him and announced, “I'll start.” and took a breath as if Lance had accepted- who hadn't, in fact, and was about to scold him again, but was stopped when:

“I want to kiss someone so bad.”

As the weak pining guy he was, he completely forgot anything else and gasped. “Who?!”

Keith made a suggestive nod towards his arms around Lance's neck, furrowing an eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Seriously, Lance?”

It could have been a misunderstanding… maybe he was just reading things wrong. It was impossible that he was that “someone”… Right?

“It's me? You want to kiss me, for real?” He asked, his voice cracking at the end. He swallowed, feeling his throat drier than the desert despite the quantity of water he had swallowed by accident.

“Sometimes you're really dumb.” The other whispered, the closeness of their faces allowing them to talk softly. Despite the insult, his smirk was gentle, affectionate.

What is happening. Am I dreaming.

“Well, Mister Let's-drown-in-the-deep-sea, I don't think you're in the best place to call me dumb.” He sentenced, stifling a laugh.

Keith chuckled, eyes rolling to the sky. “Yes Lance, for real.”

And without even thinking, Lance lowered his head and kissed him on the mouth so quickly he wasn't even sure he really did. He recovered and processed it, face-palming in his mind. “S-sorry, I don't know why I did it! We already had to talk about us, about… that other kiss-”

Keith kissed him back, leaving him in shock. “And now… about this too...” He whispered, uncertain.

Another one. “And this...”

Keith was starting to giggle but didn't refrain, and planted one last kiss on his mouth, making a pop sound with his lips. Lance sighed. “It'll be a looong chat.”

At that point, Keith couldn't take it anymore and started cackling like crazy, his voice slightly raspy due to the previous strains. Lance declared it the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had never seen Keith laugh so hard, and it always felt so good knowing he was the cause, good or bad. He joined him, realizing how silly his anxiety was making him sound.

“Are you going to talk after every kiss?” Keith managed to utter between snickers.

“I mean, if you want I can do it...”

Keith rolled his eyes and grabbed both of his cheeks.

“Lance, just kiss me and shut up!”

He went still, hesitant, realizing that it was really happening. Everything he had ever imagined was there in front of him. Keith under him with his hands on his face, asking him to kiss him. He just couldn't believe it.

But it was real. So real he was almost afraid to think about the aftermath, because in dreams he could just wake up and go on with his day. Here, if he kissed Keith, there were going to be consequences. And they really needed to deal with their previous situation already.

… Maybe later, though.

He nodded and crashed his lips against Keith's, too eager to taste those lips to think of a more romantic way to have their truly official first kiss. Something, warm and soothing, bloomed in his chest as soon as he did. It couldn't be exactly placed, but it was there, growing in silence while surrounded by chaos- that was his mind right then. I'm kissing Keith.

“Sorry-” Keith took a breath between kisses, “For your nose.”

“Don't care.” Lance replied, the pain of the hit completely disappeared. Forgotten. The only thing he needed to heal was feeling Keith's lips on his. (And probably disinfectant.)

Despite the sloppiness, the uncertainty due to the new experience, their teeth which sometimes clasped, everything was perfect and as Lance had imagined many times. Keith didn't look like a soft kisser, and in fact, he wasn't at all. He liked to bite Lance's lower lip, drag it a little towards him until he felt the need to kiss him again. He also had the habit to grab some strands of Lance's hair in the back of his neck and pulling them lightly, while stroking his jaw with the his free hand.

Who decided to open his mouth first wasn't clear- maybe both at the same time, maybe not. What they knew was that, without even hesitating, their tongues simultaneously found each other, making them more desperate to feel the other than before.

And, as many other times, the action seemed so natural it was like they had done it already, like it was usual for them to make out. They knew how to move and how to treat each other, how to cause a moan with a certain touch or kiss- it would have been weirder if they had said that was their first time.

And Lance, while dreaming about this moment right there, always had assumed that he would have found a specific thought in the back of his mind: is Keith thinking about Jake? Because that was… normal, he guessed. Thinking about his ex after meeting him recently, still confused and uncertain about the end of their relationship- he wouldn't even have minded being used as a replacement.

But now, as Keith was holding him as his life depended on it, like he craved Lance and nothing or no one else, he could almost bet Jake hadn't even appeared for a moment in his mind.

That felt good.

That situation, however, from the beach, seemed… a little different.

Lance was still looking angry as he talked with Keith, but their friends couldn't hear what he was saying nor see Keith's face to better understand their discussion. Shiro started getting concerned again, wanting to interfere, but Allura stopped him to point out that Keith had his hands around Lance's neck- so, that didn't look like a fight, or at least, not completely. Pidge and Hunk were confused as well, unable to read between the lines… they couldn't imagine what was happening, of course.

“Is he feeling weak?” Hunk suggested. Maybe Keith was so tired after the multiple immersions that he had to hold on to Lance, or else he would have fallen down or pass out.

They continued observing – throwing the “let's give them space” out of the window because who could resist, honestly –, until Lance's face changed in a surprised one, to then scream something with what looked like hope. They could hear his voice, thanks to the loudness of it, but not make up the words.

Pidge growled. “What the hell are they talking about?!”

His features shifted to one last expression which they couldn't name- a mix of stupor, confusion and embarrassment. He stared at Keith and talked again, while their faces got closer and closer.

“I can't see Keith, it's impossible to understand w-” Allura froze, her mouth gaping in shock.

“… Oh.” Hunk muttered, toneless.

Lance had kissed Keith on the mouth, pulling back right after. Now that didn't make sense at all.

What didn't make even less sense, however, was that Keith kissed him in turn, getting away with the same speed.

“Maybe they're doing CPR…?” Shiro offered, more to himself than to the others, who just looked at him keeping their appalled expression, speechless.

“To each other? With kisses?” Pidge widely opened her arm, her finger pointing at the two boys.

“… A new technique?” He replied, hopeful.

They couldn't prepare themselves for what came next.

Lance, after happily nodding, just lowered his head and… kissed Keith again. This time, without backing away. Oh boy, the oppositeof “backing away”- they were really going at it!

“… Oh.” Hunk repeated, more bewildered this time, his mind slowly processing what they were witnessing.

Allura turned towards Shiro, incapable of forming sensible sentences, just looking like she had seen a ghost.

Pidge, although disgusted, couldn't stop watching and found the strength to even order to Hunk, “Quick, take your phone, we need a photo- no, no, a video. This footage is ESSENTIAL!”

Shiro gasped when he noticed the two boys were basically on top of each other, kissing like their life depended on it. And if, from that distance, you could see there were some tongue action, perhaps continuing to watch wasn't really appropriate, especially if there were minors involved.

“Okay, the show is over!” He announced and covered Pidge's eyes, who yelled and complained but gave up as she realized it was impossible to fight Shiro.

“As soon as they'll have the decency to come back, we'll have a little pep talk.”

“Keith.”

Oooh god. Keith knew that tone like the back of his hand. The scold was starting, and not the typical “apprehensive big brother” one: he was severe, but more exasperate and worried about him, if that made sense- like, after all those years together, Keith had become quite god at recognizing Shiro's various tones of voice. At the end of these speeches, he would usually give up on reprimanding him and offer some advice instead.

This time, though, his brother's eyes were on fire. There was no trace of hidden concern, or the hope of him just relaxing and forgive them easily. Which was understandable, since they had risked to die because of Keith, not surprisingly. Despite being afraid of the consequences for both, Keith just hoped Shiro wouldn't get angry with Lance, who had saved his life while trying to stay alive himself with a bloody nose. He had made sure to point this out when telling the whole story to the group as soon as they got back to the beach. Which wouldn't have taken so much, if they hadn't been… busy.

“I've always had so much patience with you, you know it- but I'm deeply, extremely disappointed in you this time. You knew it was dangerous from the start, but you wanted to go your own way as always, forcing another person to follow you. Putting in a life-threatening situation not only yourself, but Lance too.” Shiro was mad, but still managed to keep his voice firm, his tone loud but not exaggerated. Screaming was not his style.

“Do you understand the gravity of this? That you could have drowned and died? And all because you're stubborn and don't ever think about your health. You must stop treating your life as a constant search of perfection in anything you do. Sometimes, you may not excel.”

Those words really hit him. Shiro had never been that sincere and direct, but he knew it was for his own good- nevertheless, it hurt a little to… realize how much his perfectionism was noticeable from outside. And it hurt to realize how that same perfectionism he'd always run behind, desperately, hoping it could save him from not having a purpose at all, could have killed him one day.

“And that's okay, Keith.”

Keith didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it sounded as if something had changed in his brother's voice, his worry shining through the steely armor he had put on. Keith dared to raise his eyes up, praying to find the only gaze that always believed in him, when no one else did.

“I'm sorry, Shiro.” He whispered, careful.

Shiro slowly relaxed his shoulders with a big sigh, before closing his eyes. “Keith, please, don't ever do something like this. I wasn't the only one in concern, everyone almost had a heart attack when we couldn't see you anymore. I feared the worst.”

Keith shuddered.

“For a moment, I though I lost you.”

His heart was pulsing in his throat. It was in that moment, he knew he had fucked up. He already had understood they had risked their lives when Lance had carried him on the rock and his mind could finally calm down, but just right then he had realized how bad their friends must have felt looking at that scene, without knowing anything. However, he couldn't express his feelings because Shiro turned towards Lance.

“Lance.”

The boy slightly flinched taken by surprise. He hadn't talked at all since they had come back, unable to look at Shiro. He was probably feeling guilty because doing swim lessons together had been his idea.

“Thanks for saving Keith.”

Lance widened his eyes, still not feeling comfortable enough to raise his head up. He just shook it, without replying.

“But, please, you too… be careful. Don't always follow Keith's ideas, if you're not sure of your safety.”

Lance looked at him, a little uncertain, but nodded and stretched his mouth in a shy smile.

The weight on Keith's chest finally vanished as Shiro reciprocated the smile gently at both, ruffling his brother's hair. Thankfully he hadn't gotten angry with Lance, since he didn't deserve it. He personally wasn't even mad for the hard reprimand, like, he totally understood and felt responsible for everything. Just the thought of possibly losing Lance… living the rest of his life with the knowledge of having killed such an important person for so many people… He shivered and warded off the image.

“Oh, one last thing.”

They sat down again, worried. Everyone surrounded them, crossing their arms with a scowl that soon turned into a malicious grin after seeing how much the two were preoccupied. Keith had a suspect, but hoped it wasn't what he was thinking. Don't tell me...

“The next time you want to make out, find a more private space.” Allura exclaimed, laughing immediately after.

Both gasped, turning red at the same time. Keith covered his face, a low and long whine muffled by his hands. Lance giggled nervously, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding everyone's gazes- especially Shiro's.

They all had seen them kiss, those nosy assholes! Shiro had seen him kiss someone, ew! If he dared to tell mom, he would have been the next one risking his life.

“Oh my god. I wanna die.” Keith grumbled as one by one walked behind them and patted their shoulders before going to swim.

“You had the chance to, dude.” Pidge snickered, running away.

Shiro was the last to pat him, but left his hand there for a moment. Oh no, another great piece of advice was coming. “It's better you two stay here until we come back and go home, okay?” Keith just nodded with his face still hidden, not even peeking through his fingers. He didn't want to go again for sure- almost drowning once was enough for a day, thank you.

Lance instead cleared his throat, “Yeah, agreed. And- thank you Shiro. For… worrying about me. I'm sorry for all of this.” He gestured around, not really pointing at something. That made Keith lift his head, just to see the face he had had the pleasure to kiss just minutes before. Lance was just… so precious for him. He always knew what to say, even when he was embarrassed.

He really, really… really liked him. A lot. Kissing had seemed like the most natural thing to do for them, as if they had had done it multiple times before- and that was, instead, the first time. So he couldn't wait to kiss those soft lips again and again, to take that sensation and transform it in something true.

Shiro smiled at him and shook his head, shrugging. “What are you talking about? Why would I not be worried for you too? You're part of our family as much as everyone else. Don't mention it.”

Lance's face brightened ten times more, blinding Keith with a gleaming, genuine smile. It was clear he did not expect that response. He just nodded vigorously, and Shiro joined the others after a last wave of his hand. Yes, he was part of their group, and he wasn't going anywhere. Lance had to realize his value was equal to everyone else's.

“So...”

Oh. Now that they were alone, they could talk about… everything. Aaand now Keith was suddenly nervous again. Why did Lance always start conversations with “so”? Did he enjoy seeing Keith getting anxious for the suspense?!

“I think I have to agree with you.”

Confused, he turned towards Lance and furrowed his eyebrows.

The brown-haired boy huffed, a crooked smile appearing immediately. “You do actually get in trouble yourself.”

“Fuck off!” Keith burst out laughing, nudging him in the shoulder. “You're the worst.”

Lance hummed and faked a look on his imaginary daily planner, running a finger on the palm of his other hand as if he was looking through entries. “Uh, last time I checked, though, I saved your butt. Am I really?”

He couldn't stifle a smile in front of his goofiness. “No, you're not. You're actually the opposite of worst.”

Lance probably didn't expect that sincerity, because he stilled, taken by surprise, as he became more and more red. After a few seconds of fake coughs and failed sentences he managed to recover, “A-anyway!” He exclaimed loudly, putting his hands on the sides of his body in a sassy way, “Next time we're gonna try again and succeed, promise?”

Next time. He still wants to help me.

Keith smiled softly. “Promise.”

Chapter Text

Hello everyone!

Yes, all the rumors are true: I'm still alive and STILL shipping Klance. In the year 2023!
But... well, if you're here too, it means that both of us are still too attached to these lovey-dovey two dorks :)
This "update" may come as a surprise to you- it's certainly a surprise to me, but I got around reading Klance fanfictions again, and, just out of curiosity, I re-read mine too.
It felt so nostalgic, as Klance always does, but also in a personal way. I stopped writing a looong time ago after this last fanfiction and never found the courage to do it again... until now.
I feel kind of bad that I left this story without an ending, without any explanations to you- or to myself, to be honest! I want to give "If I lose myself" another chance.
There aren't as many fans of Voltron and Klance as there were before, obviously (and for just reasons, I know), but I still feel the need, the motivation to rewrite the story from the beginning and hopefully finish it. So I'm not doing it hoping to have a famous fanfiction with thousands of kudos... let's consider this as a writing exercise.
But I still wanted to let my old readers know, so hopefully the notification arrives in your inboxes and, maybe, who knows, gets you excited? I really hope so!
If you're on board with this crazy plan, stay tuned! I will create a new fanfiction and publish it... Some people may already know, but I'm a slow writer, so my apologies in advance.
Okay sorry for this infinite rant but I'm now finished... you're free to go my children!!

See you on the other side, hopefully :)

Chapter Text

Hello dear readers!

Haryuu here :)

I REALLY hope this isn't against the rules, but I searched through the FAQ of AO3 and didn't find anything about it.

Please let me know if this is not accepted on the website and I will remove it.

This pseudo-chapter is to let old and new readers know that the new version of the story, If I Lose Myself (2023 rewrite) has been posted!

You can find it here. 

Here's the new summary of it:

At this point, Keith can’t take it anymore and starts cackling like crazy, his voice slightly raspy. Lance declares it the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He’s never seen Keith laugh so hard, and it always feels so good knowing he’s the cause, in a good or bad way.

“Can you ever shut up?” Keith manages to utter between snickers.

“I can, I just don’t want to! What are you going to-”

Keith huffs and grabs his face, squeezing his cheeks to stop him from talking.

“Lance, close your fucking mouth and kiss me!”

 

Keith is a pianist haunted by dark thoughts and an even darker past. He attends Altea's Music Academy, but has never performed in public before; that is until his brother Shiro, who's a piano teacher, decides to promote the school with concerts at the Paladin's, the trendiest pub in town. His colleagues and friends, Pidge and Hunk, are excited: he can finally meet their best friend, Lance!

Their first encounter is... not good.

No one expects Keith and Lance to fall in love at first sight. Not even them.

(They also dance Single Ladies together. You're welcome!)