Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance is a failure, there's no doubt about it. He's had (and lost) countless jobs - from barista to cleaner; baker to waiter; accountant to assistant. You name a job and he's been fired from it. Despite the seemingly infinite number of interviews he's attended, he hasn't been able to keep a solid job for more than a few months. And today wasn't any exception. On April 11th, Lance was fired from yet another job. Apparently being a mechanic wasn't a good fit for Lance, dropping one too many car parts on his boss's toe. He wasn't surprised though, he only applied for that job because his current roommate and childhood friend Hunk vaguely knew the owner. He had recently lost half of his staff due to a fire in the garage a few weeks prior. Lance completely disregarded the clearly suspicious working conditions, only caring for some sort of income.

It was an understatement to say Lance felt terrible. He shuffled away from the garage with a mopey frown, pink slip in pocket, thinking of what to tell Hunk this time. Just the thought of the exhausted yet pitiful look Hunk was sure to give him was enough to deter Lance from going back to their apartment. And so Lance wandered aimlessly through the semi-familiar town he was in, his already battered shoes being further torn apart as he dragged his feet with each step he took. Lance's fingers absentmindedly ran over the cobblestone wall as he ambled along, fingertips numbed from the scratches from the rough surface. Lance was abruptly woken up from his auto piloted ramble as his fingers suddenly found themselves sweeping through an empty space. He looked up to find himself peering through an empty archway. The archway was almost unnoticeable when observing the surrounding wall, easily standing two metres tall and stretching further than Lance's eyes could see. Inside the arch there appeared to be some sort of garden, without another soul by the looks of it. 

Lance was born stupidly curious and so naturally he invited himself into the mystery garden. It looked abandoned to Lance and it only took him a moment to find a place to settle: a stone bridge that was surprisingly high above the river it transversed. Lance couldn't help but lean daringly over the edge, unable to resist the intrusive thoughts surging through his mind. He and his friends used to jump off a bridge similar in his hometown when the weather got warmer in the spring. However, ashamed as Lance would be to ever admit it, the reason Lance thought of jumping from this bridge was far from the carefree and juvenile adrenaline he craved when he was younger. Of course, Lance wouldn't ever actually jump. He would feel too guilty. He would much rather continue his own miserable life than let his family and friends suffer on his behalf. Plus, if he were to do that now he felt that the sacrifices his friends had made for him thus far would have been worthless. So simply staring over the edge of the bridge, temptatious as it is, is as far as Lance dared to go. 

Lance heaved a heavy sigh, pulling himself away from the edge and dropping down to sit on a wooden park bench a few steps away. He closed his eyes, doing the breathing exercises his old doctor showed him. The technique wasn't perfect, it sort of had a 50-50 chance of working. Or maybe Lance was just doing them wrong, it had been a long time since he was able to afford a session with her. Thankfully it seemed to be doing its job this time.

"Afternoon." A foreign voice chimed, so sudden it almost made Lance jump out of his own skin. He did his best to hide the fact that he got the fright of his life, amazed at the fact that he didn't hear the man approach. Maybe those breathing exercises worked a little too well, sending him into a deafening state of nirvana. Lance turned to look at the person beside him: an old, hunched over man wearing a worn knit jumper. 

Lance let out an awkward giggle before flashing the old man an sheepish smile. "Hi. Sorry I uh- I didn't hear you coming..."

The old man let out a chuckle, waving his hand as if to brush away the tension that had been building up between the two. "Are you coming from an interview? You're dressed quite handsomely." 

Lance's head dropped. Usually he would have taken such a comment as an insult, his suit was old and tattered, threads sticking from seams and buttons missing. But after looking at the old man's clearly sincere smile, Lance tried to shake off his paranoia and replied to the man. His eyesight probably isn't the best anyway. "I wish," he started, hopelessness practically dripping from his lips, "but I'm pretty sure there's no more interviews left for me to take. I think I've tried every job this country has to offer."

The old man let out a chesty laugh, a bright grin spreading across his lips. "Well, the world is full of possibilities." Lance lifted his head, surprised the man could have such a jolly response to Lance's depressing confession. "There are endless chances and opportunities, you just have to grab them at the right time."

Lance shook his head, his eyes dropping once again. "With all due respect sir, I think I'm fresh out of good chances."

"Well then," began the old man, "Maybe you just haven't found the right person to give you the right chance."

Lance paused as he tried to debunk the old man's riddle, but who was he kidding, he's never even finished a crossword without help. "I don't know where you're trying to take this, sir. Unless you're my long list uncle about to bestow his multi million inheritance upon me.”

The old man's chest bobbed with hearty laughter as Lance’s comment, his hands adjusting their grasp on his walking stick. “Sorry to disappoint you, son.” 

“A man can dream.” Lance said with a smile. 

The old man sighed, a sigh that sounded as if he couldn't be more satisfied with life. "Maybe you just have to go back and try to make an old chance work again."

Lance couldn't help but find the old man's pep talk - cryptic as it was - surprisingly uplifting. "You’ve got a way for me to get back one of my old chances?"

The old man glanced at Lance, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. "Perhaps I do."

Lance sucked in his breath and stared at the old man with barely contained horror. “You're not trying to recruit me into your cult, are you?” 

The old man’s content didn't fade, but he curtly denied that he was in a cult. Convincing enough for Lance. “Wouldn’t it be nice to go back? To start again. To talk more with those we never really got the chance to talk to. To be more positively involved in the lives of others."

This nostalgic pep talk had Lance in such a drowsy state that when his phone chimed in his pocket he felt like he had been woken by his alarm clock. He couldn't help the guilt that welled up in his chest when he saw who was calling. Lance apologetically looked over to the old man who only smiled, as if granting Lance permission to answer the call, which he promptly did. 

"Hey Hunk-"

"Lance! Thank god you answered!  Where are you?" Hunk interrupted, anxiety lacing his voice. 

"I'm in some park by the garage." Lance replied nonchalantly.

"A park? In the city? I've never seen one." Hunk mumbled. "Never mind. We have to leave for the reunion in an hour , just hurry back."

"Reunion?" Lance ran his fingers over his stubbled chin. He really needed to shave, but with his ridiculously low income he had no money to spare on such privileges as razors, he could barely pay his half of he and Hunk's rent.

"Wow, you seriously don't remember?" 

"Dude I am not following."

Hunk sighed, clearly getting agitated. "Keith? Ring any bells?" Lance fell silent, his chest suddenly hit with a sharp pang of pain and his palms quickly clamming up. C'mon, you seriously didn't forget did you?" Hunk's voice was laced with discontempt.

"No! No, of course not! It just... slipped my mind..." Lance felt himself break into a cold sweat.

Lance figured Hunk was probably nodding on the opposite end of the phone because the line was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up again. "Alright man, just hurry back. I don't wanna be late to something as important as this..."

"Yeah, I know. I can't believe it's been ten years already." Lance's eyes dropped to his collapsing shoes.

"I know." Hunk hummed. 

"I wish I could’ve gotten to know him a bit better, you know?" Lance sighed.

"I wish we could go back in time. I would have acted so differently." Lance's heart felt tight in his chest, his eyes slowly roaming over to the old man who sat a few feet away, a peaceful look across his ageing face as his fingers tapped on the knob of his cane. He thought back over hi previous comments. 

"Yeah," Lance said, quickly diverting his eyes. He could almost feel the gaze of the old man burning on the side of his face. He fought with every nerve in his body to keep his eyes straight ahead, "if only."

"Anyway, why were you in the city?" Hunk asks. Lance's legs began to quiver nervously.

"Oh you know..." He scratched his neck. "Work stuff..."

"Oh yeah!" Hunk begins, "How’s the new job going? You've already lasted a week in this one!" He sounds proud as if it's a wonderful achievement for Lance to keep a job for such a short amount of time. It wasn't exactly a boost for Lance's self-esteem.

"Oh, it's going just... swimmingly."

Hunk seemed to be distracted by something on his end of the line before quickly muttering back to Lance, "Oh man I bet that's the food I ordered. Gotta go Lance."

"Dinner at noon?" Although Hunk is a total foodie, even this was a stretch for him. 

"Hey, its a two hour drive back home and the food there will probably be stale tuna sandwiches. A hard pass for me, so I'm filling up now." Hunk defended. 

"Alright I'll be home-" Before Lance could even finish his sentence Hunk cut him off with a hasty 'later man' before hanging up. Lance shrugged, guess he didn't want to keep the delivery man waiting. Lance drops his arm, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"You say you wish you knew him better."

Lance looks over to the old man again. His hands rest on his knees, his eyes still resting on a pair of chirping birds. Lance nodded. 

"An old friend?"

"I guess..." Lance spoke, swallowing back a lump him his throat. "I guess I never let us get there."

"What would you say to him? If you could go back."

Lance shrugs. He hadn't really thought of that. Not recently, he thought up an almost endless list of things he would have done differently when he stood beside Keith's coffin at the funeral. There was a rumour that Keith wasn't inside, that his body was never found. It didn't matter to Lance. All that mattered was that Keith was gone, and although nobody knew how he died, Lance couldn't help but blame himself. 

"I don't know." Lance admitted, his eyes darting around different things in the park before stopping on the birds again. They had stopped jumping around, standing almost still as statues. 

The old man hums. "I could recommend some icebreakers for you."

Lance shot the old man a confused look. He decided to brush off the odd comment, his brain growing too tired to attempt to decipher any more of his riddles. Lance let out a grunt as he mustered the strength to pull himself to his feet. "Well," Lance began, brushing creases out of his trousers, "I gotta go. But I enjoyed the company." Lance grinned graciously as the old man whose eyes remained fixed in the same spot.

"Ah yes, I understand your hurry. You wouldn't want to be late for class now, would you?"

Lance's smile faltered, the corner of his lips tugging downwards in the uncomfortable remains of a smile. The only plausible explanation he could think of was that the old man was deranged in some way. He only gave an awkward nod before beginning to walk away. But he didn't go very far, in fact he only got a few steps away before he froze, leaning closer to the bridge wall/ 

He walked over to the birds, the subjects of the old man's attention. He hadn't noticed from the bench, but now as he bent down to really get a close look he realised the birds weren't just not moving - they were frozen still as if they had been turned to stone. "Holy crow..." His jaw slacked in pure astonishment, turning to ask the old man if he was also seeing this. However, only adding to Lance's shock, the man was nowhere in sight. Lance quickly straightened up, frantically looking around him to see if he could spot the old man walking away. Lance wasn't too sure why it was so important to find the old man, maybe to prove Lance hadn't been hallucinating the whole encounter, that he wasn't going insane. But he was nowhere to be seen, and Lance only further questioned his own mental state.

Lance took a step back, reaching behind himself to try to stabilise himself on the stone wall. But his hand made contact with nothing, only sailing through air as his body fell backwards and off the edge of the bridge. His heart sank to his stomach, his brain becoming so light his thoughts became a blur, too shocked to even let out a cry. He didn't even question how the wall of the bridge vanished, he couldn't piece together a single coherent thought before he felt himself become completely engulfed in the freezing cold.

It wasn't even a second after Lance had been  swallowed by the cold that his head slammed against a hard surface, a loud bang immediately following. His brain throbbed at the sudden contact and his hands quickly shot up to cradle his aching head. "Mother of..."

"Ah, thank you for joining us again. Lance. This time please try to stay awake until the end of class." An old, wildly familiar voice chimed.

Lance forced his eyes open, squinting as he took a moment to adjust to the brightness. He had just closed his eyes yet he felt like it was his first exposure to light in years. It took him a while to finally be able to see his surroundings, yet that only caused the pulsing of his headache to get worse. 

Lance could feel his blood run cold and drain from his face, his eyes widening so much he wouldn't be surprised if they rolled out of their sockets. He slowly looked around the room scanning each face, finding each one familiar yet his brain was too scrambled to pinpoint any of them. And then it hit Lance like a punch to the gut. He saw Hunk, his closest friend for as long as he could remember and also his roommate; Pidge his best friend who was always happy to give Lance a reality check; Allura, his high school crush that he struggled to ever have a normal conversation with; Shiro, Lance's idol throughout highschool; and Matt, Shiro's friend who was equally as intelligent as his comrade but only a fraction as wise. Matt and Pidge are siblings and, weirdly enough, have two years between them. It was odd to say the least when they ended up being in the same class when Pidge skipped a year thanks to her ridiculously high IQ and Matt, not being any less intelligent, took a year out with Shiro about two years before senior year to take part in some advanced space programme. Though Pidge didn't find the move very difficult. Pidge naturally gravitated towards Hunk and Lance, making the several year old duo evolve into a more more balanced trio (which also resulted in a massive average IQ increase).

Lance's head was spinning with the pure uncanniness of what was happening, wondering how in hell he ended up in a room with all of his old classmates. But his inebriated state was quickly washed away when a pair of dark eyes locked with his own.  The emotion Lance felt in that very moment would be difficult to put into words, but it was something similar to terror. In the seat in front of him, that pale skin and dark hair, those dull violet eyes sharply glaring in his direction. When Lance was eighteen that look would have evoked some sort of cataclysmic reaction, like a volcanic explosion. That look always set him off, he got it every day in school. And for the last number of years it haunted him every night in his sleep.

"You..." Lance managed to force out of his mouth, only intensifying the look from the other boy. 

He spoke back, but Lance couldn't process any words. It all hit Lance way too fast, and it was way too much to process. He debated whether or not it was a dream, but wasn't the fact that Lance was considering it already a clear answer? Lance knew what had happened, but right now he couldn't think about anything. All he could do was sit there, his voice caught somewhere in his throat, and stare at Keith who, in only a few weeks, was going to be dead.

Chapter Text

April 12th, Tuesday

29 days

"Lance?”

“ Holy… ” 

“Are you alright?" Lance’s head snapped towards the source of the concerned voice. Coran, he was always Lance's favourite teacher. He always had a deep level of understanding when it came to his students. No matter how many times Lance was late or fell asleep in his class, Coran never gave out. The only times he did give out to Lance was when he picked a fight with Keith which, unfortunately for Coran, was practically every day. But he never held it against the boys, it was more like he was scolding his own children. Apologise. Shake hands. Now, we’re all friends again. 

Lance opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. The girl to his right frowned as she leaned closer towards him. "Maybe he hit his head too hard..." She said. Lance shifted his gaze to lock into her honey coloured eyes. Just the sight of her young face again was enough to hit Lance with a wave of joy. Pidge, she had moved out of the country as soon as she graduated, and ever since had been studying something to do with robots in Europe. It was beyond refreshing to see her face again after so many years, but the circumstances were far from favourable.

Another person scoffed. "I'm pretty sure he was dropped on his head as a baby." The voice was cocky, each word dripping with sarcasm.

Lance's head craned around to the source of the voice, his eyes locking on a smug grin long lost from his memory. Though Lance's mind had been racing his body was completely frozen. His chest suddenly felt heavy with guilt, an emotion he had become all too familiar with over the past few years. Lance hadn't realised it before, but after hearing that distantly familiar voice it was as if all of the blood had completely drained from his body. 

Had Lance forgotten the sound of Keith's voice?

Of course, he couldn't really blame himself. Lance didn't have any photos of Keith, let alone videos. The only picture he did have was a group photo in his high school yearbook. Though, in the photo Keith's face was small, it was impossible to discern much detail (it was a group photo after all). While Lance would force himself to stare at it, inevitably cracks in Lance's mind grew into canyons of memories gradually lost to time, so slowly and carefully it went unnoticed like a plant withering in the sun. After a while Lance had lost the will to look at his own face, let alone Keith's. Looking at either always filled Lance with a suffocating sense of aching remorse. 

When Lance failed to snap back with his usual snarky comment, Keith's smirk faltered. It was unusual for Lance to not have a comment prepared in a fight, whether it was a good one or, more often, a painfully bad one. But Lance was too wrapped up in his own horror, the realisation terrifying. The fact that he had forgotten the sound of Keith's voice. But now that Keith was sitting in front of him once again, cold grey eyes staring into his own, the guilt was so overwhelming that Lance felt nauseous. 

Finally able to push out some words, all Lance could muster was: "I have to use the bathroom." Lance didn't wait for permission, jumping to his feet and hurrying out of the room. The class was silent as Lance rushed out, bewildered by the scene he had caused. 

Despite everything, Lance was momentarily able to revel in his surprise that after a decade he still remembered the layout of the school, muscle memory kicking in as he navigated his way to the toilets. Has his school always been so small? It always felt so big to him, though maybe he had just gotten used to working in oppressively huge company buildings. Once he found the toilets, Lance rushed to the row of sinks and clutched the porcelain edge, attempting to steady his footing. He stared at his own reflection for a few seconds, hands numbly floating up to rub over his face, marvelling at how soft his skin was, at how smooth and wrinkle-free his eighteen year old self's face had been. He looked at the bathroom mirror, looking past the stains and scrawled messages on the mirror surface to look at his reflection.

There were no stress lines, no wrinkles, no uneven stubble and no dark bags under his eyes. Just a young, worry free face Lance thought he would never fathom seeing in the mirro ever again. His lips unconsciously pulled into a dazed smile, his shaky hands reaching up to lightly poke at his cheek, a pleasantly warm brown in comparison to the sickly grey undertone his adult self adopted after a decade of practically constant exhaustion. 

"I'm dreaming. Tell me I'm dreaming..." Lance muttered to himself as he lost himself in the inconceivable image before him. 

"What is up with you?" 

Lance lost his footing once again as he spun round to face the intruder realised who it was, slipping and bumping into the sink behind him.

"K-Keith..." Lance choked, struggling to force the name out as if it had been lodged in his throat. Keith kicked the bathroom door closed behind him before trudging towards Lance. 

Lance sprung forward in a state of panic and rushed into one of the stalls. He slammed the stall door shut and locked it, his shaking hands hovering over the lock. Lance's eyes ended up resting on a messily scrawled note on the back of the door, the ink smudged but still comprehensible. 

KEITH IS A POSER . 

Undoubtedly one of his works. It would be impossible to count how many insults about Keith Lance had left around the school, most of them residing in the bathroom stalls. Lance knew the stalls were where people would most likely stop to read the unsightly graffiti. He also knew of places that the teachers would never find them. He wasn’t stupid, he just used his brain in the most useless of times. There were probably some still littered around after ten years.

"Lance, get out here!" Keith yelled, kicking the door. The flimsy lock snapped easily from the kick causing the door to swing back too fast for Lance to react, hitting him square in the forehead. The second hit he'd gotten today. Letting out an unflattering squawk, Lance tripped over himself and landed awkwardly on the toilet with a clatter. He couldn't think straight before, the second smack only adding to Lance's inability to comprehend what was happening around him.

"Wait- wait a second-" Lance rushed to say, trying to scoot back on the toilet to get as far as he could from the raging bull before him.

Keith cut in, grabbing Lance by the scruff of his shirt, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. But Lance barely noticed how on edge Keith was, and he didn't notice how hard Keith was holding back from swinging his fist, he didn't even notice that he began crying until Keith's expressions stiffened and his grip loosened. 

"Hey, what-" Keith began, pure confusion shadowing over his previous irritation. Lance lifted his hands up to bury his face in them, his throat aching from his attempts to conceal the sobs threatening to break free. Keith was frozen in place, watching Lance in an expression bordering fear. "What is wrong with you?"

Lance found himself jumping to his feet and, before he could comprehend his own movements, captured Keith in a hug. Lance could feel Keith’s body grow stiff as a statue in his arms, the sound of the sharp breath he sucked between his teeth right beside Lance’s ear. Despite himself Lance tightened his hold around Keith’s shoulders, not caring about how strange this may seem, how out of character this is for him. Lance held the greatest regret of his life in his arms again. 

Lance pushed Keith away again, the boy stumbling back stiffly as Lance dropped back down onto the toilet seat, grateful it was closed. Lance continued to swallow sobs, struggling to form a sentence. "My uh-" He attempted to inhale but it came out more like a choked gasp. "M-my pet... my hamster died." 

Keith let out a sigh, anxiously rubbing the palms of his hands against his trousers. It was evident that Keith didn’t know what to do. Keith probably never cried himself, let alone saw Lance cry. No matter how rough Lance and Keith’s fights became, neither boy allowed themselves to shed a single tear.

"That's... that's rough, man…" 

Lance shakily nodded as he hurried to wipe his cheeks dry, too overwhelmed to even consider feeling any shame. "Sorry..." Lance attempted but Keith shook his head dismissively.

"I understand. It's difficult losing someone close to you, and pets are equally as important as people are... I think so anyway... " Keith muttered.  He assumed his comforting had some level of effect because Lance eventually stopped letting out weird, strangled noises.

It was then that the bathroom door flew open, a panicked yet furious Coran in the door. "IF YOU TWO DON'T STOP- oh... you're crying." 

Keith looked back with a desperately lost expression to Coran who swooped in and scooped Lance into his arms like a panicked mother. "Keith! What did you do to make Lance cry? I've never seen him cry!" Coran cried before turning to coo at Lance who was being smothered by his tight, almost motherly grip.

"I did nothing!" Keith yelled defensively, throwing his hands up in surrender. "His pet hamster died."

Coran's face fell and some tears began to well up in his own eyes. He let out a sniffle and flicked away a tear before returning to cradle Lance's head. "Ah yes, I remember when my first pet died. My beloved bullfrog Sparky. My best - and only friend - for many years. The pain was incomparable. However Lance,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        I am here for you if you would like to share your pet related woes." 

"I-I'm fine just... I just need a minute? I'll be back to class soon." Lance spoke, his voice shaking.

Coran hesitantly nodded, backing out of the bathroom before slowly closing the door behind him, his neck craning to peek through the crack as long as he could. Once Coran was gone, Keith turned back to speak lowly to Lance. 

"Are… you okay?" Keith spoke in an awkward and hushed tone. 

Lance sniffled, looking down to his shoes. He was wearing a pair of fresh, clean sneakers. They were his favourite pair of shoes, and a godsend in comparison to the shoes he was wearing before he was transported to this mess. He lifted his arm to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his old blue and white shirt before nodding his head. He mentally scolded himself. 

Come on Lance, you're a grown man.

"I'm fine." Lance forced out of himself. 

"Lance, I'm not an idiot. You're crying like a baby." Keith scoffed. 

"Seriously? That's what you're going to say to me right now?" This is the first conversation we're going to have after ten years? Lance glared up at Keith, but his look quickly softened. He wasn't able to stay mad, not now. It's not like he knows it's been ten years for Lance. 

"Well look at you! You're a mess!" Keith gestured to Lance's current appearance, which was completely understandable.

"Well you-" Lance stopped himself and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he thought before speaking. This isn't how he should be acting, he shouldn't interact with others too much while he's like this. So instead Lance heaved a sigh and pushed his way past Keith. "Sorry. I'm just gonna go." 

"Lance..." Keith attempted, but Lance continued out of the stall and out of the bathroom, taking off towards the closest flight of stairs. He leapt up the steps and snook into a deserted hallway, hearing the pounding of Keith's footsteps pursuing him. This only made Lance speed up, unable to appreciate his newfound speed and stamina that he was granted with his newly returned youth. Lance was in shock, but he needed to gather his thoughts and get back to his regular high school self. If he didn't sort out himself soon this would only get more difficult for him. 

After hiding in an empty classroom for a few minutes to compose himself, Lance eventually returned to class, relieved to find Keith already in his seat, his eyes sharp and unmoving from Lance as he shuffled in slowly. Coran gave an empathetic nod in acknowledgement as Lance sheepishly slipped into his seat and looked up to the whiteboard. He glanced up at the date written neatly in the top left corner of the board.

12/04/1X

Lance buried his face in his hands and began to think. It was strange travelling back in time ten years - well it was strange travelling back in time at all - and now Lance found himself exactly a month before Keith died. The date was engraved in Lance's brain. Once he had composed himself and deduced that this was in fact not a dream, Lance took the opportunity to look around him and really take in his surroundings. In a sort of role call fashion, Lance swept through his classmates. It had been years since he had seen any of them and weirdly enough getting to see and these young faces again was pretty refreshing to Lance. A much needed break, even if it was much more of a break than he ever could have bargained for...

The person sitting to his right was Hunk, his best friend for longer than he could remember. Despite Lance's hot head and often egotistical ploys, Hunk never got annoyed or fed up with Lance. He had always seen Lance for the truly selfless and empathetic person he was, even though it often didn't come across that way to others. They had an unbreakable bond, Lance always knew that Hunk would have his back no matter what. That's the reason they ended up being roommates after high school. It was also the reason Hunk felt obligated to take care of Lance after multiple career failures. Hunk was the most honest and reliable person Lance had ever known. He still is, the only thing changing about him being the beard he grew out in his late twenties. Lance was always jealous that Hunk was able to grow out such a full beard. No matter what Lance tried, all he could achieve was a pathetic and patchy stubble. 

Sitting directly in front of Hunk was Pidge. Pidge was actually her nickname, Matt first using it when they were kids. But when others heard the uncannily fitting nickname it spread like wildfire throughout the class, and then the entire school. Eventually Katie was no more, and some people wouldn't even know who you were talking about if you mentioned 'Katie Holt'. She actually changed a lot in recent years. She grew up in dresses and skirts, her waist long hair neat and well kept. But after she jumped grades at fourteen she practically reinvented herself. She completely chopped her hair so it was as short as her brothers, and ditched her contacts for a pair of circular spectacles that Lance couldn't picture her without anymore. She told Lance she suddenly needed the glasses because she sat too close to her computer screen for too long. Lance was too scared to sit within six feet to a screen for months. 

Allura sat to Lance's left, much to Lance's elation back when he was eighteen. Coran was practically her uncle so she always behaved in class, whether she wanted to be so well behaved or was obliged to Lance never knew. However everyone behaved in Coran's class, nobody wanted to get on his bad side. Not that he would be very intimidating if you did, it was simply because Coran was too nice to be cruel to, you would just feel  guilty. Nobody wanted to make such a genuine and kind teacher mad. He was more of an uncle than a teacher. Allura's father was also the headmaster of the school, but she was never really prissy about it. She was always just a kind, sweet and beautiful person. She never had a biassed look at anything. She even tolerated Lance throughout his terrible attempts at flirting. He had always admired that.

Behind Lance was Matt, Pidge's older brother. Though physically appearing very similar when they were younger, Matt and Pidge's personalities are almost totally opposites. Matt was always outspoken, opinionated, confident and above all else a total lovebird. Matt had a crush on practically every girl he set his eyes on. Every time he got rejected Shiro was forced to become his shoulder to cry on, though it was clear that Shiro never really minded. Lance had to admit that he related to Matt on that level when he was a teen, but sadly neither of them ended up winning the heart of the class princess, Allura. Lance never forgot the defeat he felt when that wedding invitation came in the mail. However it came with a bittersweet relief too, like that thread he always held onto finally snapped.  

Behind Allura sat Shiro. Nobody could really pronounce his real name correctly, so the class all just settled on that nickname. He always seemed like an old soul trapped in a young body, just a bit out of touch. He never understood any of the jokes or references Lance or his friends threw his way, but he always tried. If anyone ever needed anything from a band-aid to love advice he could always provide it. Though his partner in crime was the opposite. Matt was the class clown, the jester, while Shiro was the quiet, motherly type. Lance wouldn't ever announce it but he always had an unspoken admiration for Shiro. Just getting Shiro's praise was enough to have Lance buzzing for a week.

And then there was Keith. He sat right in front of Lance, never speaking to any of them outside of the occasional request for a pen. Lance was immediately drawn to him because of his good grades and how attractive he was. Lance was simply jealous, there was no point beating around the bush. Not that Lance would never admit it. But Lance didn't realise how attached he was to this rivalry until Keith wasn't there to rival anymore. Keith had always been mysterious and edgy, every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. Well, straight guys and girls, but you get the point. Lance was desperate for the attention he was getting so he began to pick on him and bicker with him, Keith always quick to snap back. Lance had always enjoyed their little fights, but he wasn’t sure if it ever held the same appeal for Keith like it did for Lance. Lance only felt worse when he himself became a target of beratement in his first job, without the ability to stand up for himself. Keith always bit back, so Lance never saw an issue with his behaviour, but he couldn't help but wonder if Keith back then felt similar to how he felt in those moments. 

Keith's grey eyes were a dull blur, just as Lance remembered. The only time his eyes showed a bit of life was whenever Lance tried to jump down his throat. Lance couldn't help stare in Keith's direction, his eyes locking on the back of his head in a daze. Lance always hated that mullet, probably because he knew only Keith could pull it off. It always seemed to look good, effortlessly good while Lance had to battle his hair with a comb for several minutes in the morning to make it barely presentable. Lance could feel his eyelids begin to droop in his reflective state when he was startled awake yet again.

"Lance!"

Lance flinched, snapping out of his Keith induced trance. Pidge turned in her seat to raise a brow at Lance, Hunk to his left was also giving a curious stare. When Lance looked around he realised everyone in the room was staring at him yet again. 

"Is the lesson really so boring you're falling asleep again?" Coran quipped.

Lance's face flushed as the class erupted into hushed giggles. "No Coran, I just..." Lance wasn't exactly sure how to finish that sentence. "I just spaced out I guess."

"Well the only space I want in this class is the one we're studying. Regardless of your circumstances, please try to pay attention!" Coran snapped, though it was more of a chirp than anything else. He wasn't exactly disciplining Lance, it was more like he was simply asking. Lance found Coran's gentle encouragement much more pleasant to experience than his old boss's thunderous spluttering. If there was one thing Lance would definitely not do in this second chance at life it would be applying to that job again.

Lance hadn't exactly been present for most of the class, and for the portion he actually was here, he had mainly just been spacing out so it was safe to say that he had no idea what was happening. Coran was rambling on about something to do with comets, using exaggerated gestures and terribly scrawled diagrams to teach. Lance decided since there was only a few minutes left of class, and the fact that he had already studied this and passed quite easily in his final test, there was no point in starting to pay attention now, but he would at least try to look like he was. He flicked through his notebook, looking at past notes he had taken down and- damn was his handwriting always that bad? Anyway, he flipped through the pages of his notebook until eventually reaching the back. On the back page of his hardback notebook was a Calendar for the year, almost every day crossed out leading up to today. His eyes scanned the page before pausing on a specific date. Just one month from now. Lance grabbed a red pen and drew a large red star in the box. May eleventh. D-Day. Lance didn't know why he was thrusted back in time, but considering the timing and the riddle-like conversation Lance shared with that creepy old man, he had a feeling it was something to do with Keith. Maybe not, maybe he was given a second chance to turn his shipwreck of a life around, but even if that was the case, there's no way Lance wouldn't try to stop whatever was about to happen to Keith. There's no way he couldn't.

At last the bell rang, much louder than Lance remembered. With a flinch, he quickly gathered his things, shoving them carelessly into his bag not unlike how he always used to before throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

"Lance!" 

How many times had his name been hollered like this in the past twenty minutes? 

He spun on his heel to face Coran whose face was painted with concern. His arms were crossed over his chest as a deep frown pulled on his lips. Lance smiled and shuffled over awkwardly. It was weird being treated like this by someone so close to your own age, even if Lance was now in an eighteen year old's body. 

"Lance, I know you think I'm some old geezer who doesn't understand your problems. But I was your age once, you know!" 

I was your age once too. "Thanks Coran, but I'm fine. Really." Lance replied, an insistent smile forced over his face.. 

Coran wasn't slightly convinced but sighed in defeat, quickly shooing Lance away. "Alright then, go on. I know you don't want me keeping you. Off you pop!" 

It was in that moment that reality finally sank in. That's right, it's time to go home. His home, with his room, his family, his mothers cooking... How long has it been since Lance got to visit home? Lance could feel his face lifting into what he could only assume was the most excited look Lance had ever held in his life. Lance didn't need to be told twice, spinning so quick he almost got whiplash before scurrying out the door. He probably looked insane as he practically floated out of the classroom towards the school exit. 

"Going somewhere?" Lance paused in his tracks as if he had stepped in a glue trap, face scrunching up into a frustrated frown. He slowly craned his neck to find his two buddies standing by the classroom door. Pidge stood with a scowl, her little arms crossed over her chest while her eyes narrowly stared at Lance. He could almost feel his soul being scorched with her gaze. Meanwhile Hunk, while towering over her, wasn't even half as intimidating. He rather looked more like a lost puppy, staring at Lance with helpless concern.

"What happened to you today?" Hunk asked, showing the same amount of worry he always did. It actually made Lance feel more at home in his old yet new surroundings. Hunk seriously never changed.

"Good question." Lance laughed, scratching his arm. 

"You're acting weirder than usual. What's up?" Pidge muttered, her arms folded over her chest. 

"Oh you know..." Lance uttered nervously. 

Pidge sharpened her gaze. "No, that's the thing. We don't know, but something's definitely off." 

Lance chuckled nervously, averting his gaze. "I'm just a bit scrambled. I-I need to get home."

"You didn't even go to your locker." Hunk spoke, his gaze never leaving Lance.

“I'm not feeling well!” Lance called as he scurried away, “I'll get my mom to write a note or something!"

With that Lance spun on his heel, sprinting away to find the back exit of the school. He couldn't face Pidge and Hunk right now. Especially that he was so used to their older selves. Pidge was just so short. And Hunk so... soft. He needed to set himself straight before he thought out a plan of attack

Chapter Text

April 12th, Tuesday

29 days

With weak legs threatening to crumble beneath him Lance made his way out of the school, gasping for air as he dashed out the door. He was exhausted, his mind was spinning like a carousel - yet despite his bewilderment he couldn't help but take a second to revel in the fact that he was in his young body again. No back pain, no inexplicable exhaustion and Lance couldn’t remember the last time he was able to run for this long without doubling over and heaving. However his returning youth could do nothing to protect him from the cold, Lance tucking his hands under his arms to try ease the stinging of his frozen fingertips. 

Lance's mind was in an elated buzz just at the thought of his next destination. 
Home. 
Not the shabby old apartment that he struggled to pay his half of the rent for, where the shower water was cold and tasted strange if it managed to slip into Lance’s mouth whenever she showered, where the electricity was out every other day causing Lance to spend most of his time messing around in an old circuit box. Instead of depressing grey highrises, Lance drifted along suburban cul-de-sacs accessorised with flower boxes and shrubbery, shaking legs directed by muscle memory down streets in distant memories. He was going back home, with the ubiquitous mumble of conversation and his mother's home cooking and his father's old, repeated stories that he insisted was being told for the first time every time. He was going home for the first time in almost a decade. He could already imagine his family - his mother's soft smile that would make the strongest man crumble; his father's strong hugs that would crack every bone in Lance’s body; Veronica's ability to turn everything into a competition; Rachel’s late night gossip; Marco’s spontaneous karaoke; Luis, Lisa and the kids’ chaotic visit. He didn't pay attention to the passing cars and buildings, he didn't hesitate once, every turn engraved in his mind. His heart raced as the picture perfect white-picket fence came into view, the cream paint that coated the house chipped and scuffed from countless bike accidents just as he remembered. The wooden door was old, scratched and worn yet the driveway was fresh, trimmed and prime thanks to Marco and Lance’s fathers constant fussing. Lance let out a withered whimper, trembling lips curling into a grin as his trembling fingers extended to undo the front gate’s latch. He fought for the patience not to just jump the gate, but after a few seconds of fumbling Lance succeeded in getting the gate open, stumbling up the driveway and opening the door to be hit by the delicious aroma of home cooking.

"I'm home!" 

Suddenly Lance felt nervous, stomping strides exchanged for tentative tiptoe, as if the floorboards beneath Lance’s soles would shatter if he didn’t tread lightly. Lance shuffled through the hallway with walls adorned with neat collages of family portraits, past the table littered with silly trinkets that Lance’s parents collected for no good reasons. He brushed his fingers over the shade of the lamp that he and Marco knocked over when they were testing Lance’s rollerblades one Christmas morning. Now it was held together by a clever contraption of scotch tape and glue. He paused to look through the french doors to his left into the living room. Where he and his siblings would play board games when the power was cut and where the horribly decorated tree would stand proudly at Christmas. 
Blankets and throws were littered about the colourful room, not tidy but not dirty either, the type of comfortably lived in that Lance craved whenever he returned to his barren apartment. 

He drifted to the kitchen, with white tiles and sage green walls. With the marble countertops and the dining table crowded by six wooden chairs patiently waiting to be seated on. The dining table was littered with magazines, random papers and a ceramic bowl overflowing with fruit. The fridge that Lance often raided for late night snacks was littered with magnets from the family’s travels, Lance’s lips twitching into a smile at a drawing done by one of Luis’ children. Silvio and Nadia often swarmed Lance’s mother with awful drawings, yet every time she somehow managed to whip up an act of amazement. The pantry where Lance once dropped an entire box of eggs on his head, the microwave where Lance once hid chocolate but was disappointed to find it melted after his father accidentally switched it on, the toaster Rachel almost blew up when Marco told her to stick a fork inside, the oven where Lance's mother would cook the most delicious meals he had ever tasted. The same place Rachel would attempt to bake her terrible cupcakes but nonetheless the family ate them. The radio was propped in the corner of the counter. That very radio, ancient as it was, was the source of countless childhood memories for Lance. They would dance to the music played on a specific Hispanic radio station every morning as everyone bustled around the kitchen getting ready for their day.

Lance drifted over to the glass doors leading to the garden. It was a pretty big garden now that Lance was seeing it in person again. The grass was a vibrant green, flowerbeds exploding with colour and the trio of apple trees stretching proudly into the sky. Though the apples were usually quite sour and Lance never found himself with the urge to pick them. Marco would be out there for hours at a time, catering diligently to the garden he worked so painstakingly hard on. 

And, of course, the only thing Lance could think about the entire trip home: his mother, Rosa. Wavy locks of chocolatey brown hair tied up in an unkept knot atop her head as she swayed absentmindedly to the music drifting through the room. She worked fluidly by the oven, tending to some form of baked goods. She turned around, her face lighting up at the sight of her son's ridiculous grin.

"You seem happy today, mijo." She laughed, wrinkles appearing by her eyes as she watched Lance. 

Lance could feel his heart race as he rushed over to wrap his arms around his mother, his eyes squeezing shut as he held his mother tighter than he ever had. Lance's mother seemed surprised but smiled nonetheless, patting Lance's back as he hugged her. Lance could feel himself melt into his mother’s embrace, her soft voice and gentle hands lulling him into a long forgotten sense of security. Lance never wanted to let go, and as much as it pained him to do so he figured he should let his mother get back to whatever she was doing. Not to mention Lance had to come up with a reason to get out of doing homework, though that was the least of his worries right now.

"Are you alright Lance?" His mother hummed, turning back to tend to the muffins she was making. Lance stepped back and took a seat at the dining table. Lance's mother peaked back before smiling and busying herself once again.

"Never better." Lance said, his grin still slapped stupidly across his lips. 

Lance's mother craned her neck round, at first a look of suspicion on her face. But at the sight of how stupidly happy Lance was she softened. "Any reason why you’re so bubbly today?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't know…” Lance frowned, fingers drumming against his leg as the cogs turned in his head. Of course, he’d love to tell his mother everything, but that didn’t exactly seem right. Was he even allowed to tell anyone? Did he want to impose the burden of such heavy knowledge upon anyone else? “Uh- well actually, I had this dream in class today…"

Lance's mother's expression soured. "So you were sleeping? No wonder you’re so breezy." She shook her head and tutted with a scowl that made a giggle bubble up in Lance’s throat before turning around and pulling her batch of muffins from the oven.

Lance shook his head. "No, no, I was visited by... something..."

Lance's mother hummed, any negativity disappearing as she turned to face Lance with wide, curious eyes. "Like what? An angel? A ghost?" Lance’s mother, Rosa, had always been a very spiritual person. She believed in destiny, in fate, that ‘life will find a way’. She believed in blessing her home, blessing new mirrors and doorways. She also firmly believed that she and her husband were soulmates and that her children too would find theirs. Safe to say Lance was not so firm a believer himself following his disaster of a life. But now…

Lance's brows knitted together as he pinched his chin, "I don't know exactly... but I was talking to this old man. He was talking to me about second chances and getting to know people I wish I knew better..."

Lance's mother nods, deeply intrigued. "Is there someone you wish you knew better?" 

Lance remained silent for a moment. He stared into nothing as his mother took off her apron and draped it over the kitchen counter. Eventually he let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back to his mother. "Yeah, I think there is."

His mother smiled, going over to her son and placing a warm palm on his cheek. "Well then, that's all there is to it.” She craned over and placed a small kiss atop Lance’s head. “You want to get to know this person better and this dream is telling you to go for it. What else is there to worry about?"

“I don’t know…” Lance let out a strained chuckle. Oh if only you knew.

"I always knew my little Lance was special." His mother began to hum gleefully, twirling around to tend to the trail of dirty dishes left behind her amidst her baking.

”Please never say that in front of Rachel. Or Veronica, for that matter.” Lance groaned, slipping down to hunch over in his seat. 
Lance was happy at how sincerely Rosa listened to his every word, believing each statement as the gospel truth. Though, it was unbelievably rare that Lance ever lied to her anyway. Having someone that so thoroughly trusts you no matter what you say was something Lance missed so much he couldn’t put it into words. Sure, he had Hunk, but nothing really compares to his mother. 

"So who is this mystery person you want to get to know better, mijo?"

Lance paused for a moment. The image of indigo eyes flooded his mind, the image of Keith’s fierce and sharp glare he would have remembered before was now replaced by that anxious and awkward gaze Lance was met with in the bathroom earlier that day. It made Lance’s heart ache in a way that he didn’t care to linger too long on. "I guess... well, just someone in my class…”

Like a meerkat, Rosa’s posture shot upright and gaze slowly swept towards her son. “Oh? Do you have a crush? I won't tell anyone!" She said with a mischievous smile. 

Lance groaned. "Mama..." 

Lance's mother smiled. "Is it that lovely lady you’ve always admired?"

Lance rolled his eyes, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head. "No Mom, it's not like that. It’s a guy."

Rosa’s lips puckered as she regarded Lance with a wide eyed stare.. "Oh, mijo… Well, you know I'll love you no matter what." 

Lance stood abruptly. "I'm leaving."

"The muffins are ready if anyone wants one!" 

Ridiculous. Who would reject a muffin? Lance wasted no time doing a 180, scurrying over and snagging a muffin for himself. Blueberry muffins, his favourite.

"Tell your father and Luis, will you? They’re in the garden" Lance's mother asked, bending down to check the next baking batch in the oven. 

"How many are you baking?" Lance asked, backing up towards the French doors leading to the garden. 

"Oh you know... about twenty." 

Lance smiled, stepping out into the back garden. He took a deep breath, taking in the nostalgic scent of countless flowers and plants in the garden that bombarded his nostrils. He called to his brother and his father, excitement filling his body when they all straightened up, stretching with almost identical groans before making their way over to him. He couldn't help meet them halfway, interrupting their mutual groaning about their back pain, engulfing them both in a giant hug before heading inside.

Lance wriggled in his seat as his family gathered around the dining table. Rachel had lazily changed into some baggy clothes, not very uncommon unless her friends or guests were over. Veronica was still dressed in her 'school uniform' - not that she had an actual designated uniform, she just made sure to keep to a strict dressing plan which she changed out of when she came home, which the family called her uniform. Both Luis and Marco were dressed in flannels, apparently the go-to outfit for gardening. The only difference being that Luis was already coated in dirt while Marco was dressed with the intention to be covered in dirt. Marco retrieved a spare chair folded up by the door, everyone shuffling to accommodate the extra person.

"Get a shower once you've finished that, Luis. You too! I wont have you stinking up my house." She spun around to point an accusing finger at her husband who only gave a grunt in response as he devoured a mouthful of the freshly baked goods.

”I’ll get a shower when I go home.” Luis grunted dismissively as he snatched up a muffin and collapsed into a seat by the dining table.

“Not smelling like that, you won't!” Rosa scolded, “Poor Lisa would die if she could smell you right now.” She then took her seat at the table and took a bite out of her own muffin. Lance was still in awe at the scene around him. How did he ever take this for granted? Veronica peeked up through her glasses and gave Lance an odd look. 

"Are you going to eat or... just stare at us?" She spoke, the rest of the family looking up to Lance. 

Lance's smile shifted from overjoyed to embarrassed, letting out a shy chuckle before tearing off a chunk of muffin and popping it into his mouth. Upon tasting the muffin Lance nearly melted on the spot, turning to face his mother with an expression which could only be described as pure euphoria. 

"Dif iv so goog!" He cried in a muffled voice. Lance's father and Luis laughed while Rosa shook her head, handing him some tissue she kept in her pocket with a fond smile splayed across her lips. 

"Gross..." Rachel muttered as she ate her own share in a much more presentable way. 

Marco snickered, kicking his legs and she took an inhumanely large bite from his muffin. He beamed at Lance, both of them bonding over their shared sloppiness. Veronica glanced up from her own muffin before continuing to eat away in contention. 

Lance cleared his throat, looking to his father who ate with a fading smile. "Papa, how's the garden going?" 

Carlos perked at the sudden question, a tired smile appearing once again. "Well it's alive for now.”

“But that's probably not gonna last long, the plants have been withering recently.." Luis spoke, scratching his chin which was prickling with hair. Lance remembered that spring - most of the plants died, his dad and brothers were devastated. 

"Well didn't you guys change the fertiliser? Maybe that's the problem" Lance suggested, plucking a blueberry from his muffin and eating it, sucking the crumbs off his fingertips like a vacuum.

Luis and his father glanced at each other, considering Lance's suggestion with pensive nods. "Maybe that could be the problem." Luis said. 

"It wouldn't hurt to check." His father agreed with a smile. "I didn't think you paid so much attention to the garden."

Lance smiled as he shrugged and continued to eat away. He remembered Lance's father suggesting it the following summer, but nobody had to know that.

Rachel leaned over the table to look at Lance with a frown. "Lance, you're being weirdly happy and I hate it. Usually around this time of month you're a lump of depression."

Lance snorted at the remark, looking to Rachel who was sucking on her own fingertips. "You're talking as if I'm a girl." 

Veronica's eyes snaked around to shoot a glare at Lance as he scrambled to add, "I-I mean.. you know what I mean and I'm not saying it out loud."

Marco groaned as he swallowed the last of his muffin. "Please let me enjoy my muffin in peace!" Lance couldn't tell if Marco was uncomfortable, or whether he wasn't in the mood for a debate. But whatever one of the two it was, Marco would have to suck it up, both are a part of the life he's going to have to live with this family.

"You're finished anyway!" Rachel replied snappily as she returned her attention to Lance. "So why are you so happy?"

Lance's mother perked with a wide smile as her hands excitedly clasped together. "Lance has a crush!"

Lance's eyes darted to his mother, her grin quickly slipped into an innocent pucker as Lance shot her a betrayed look. She smiled apologetically as Lance's siblings laughed and shoved each other, his father crossing his arms and his eyebrows lifting so high they almost hit his already receding hairline. 

"I thought it was common knowledge." Veronica droned. 

"Yeah, I thought he liked the headmaster's daughter. What was her name again?" Marco added, looking at Veronica as everyone usually did when they needed an answer for anything. She was like their own personal walking encyclopaedia. 

Of course, Veronica supplied said answer. "Allura." 

"His princess!" Rachel cooed, earning a flustered scowl from Lance. 

"Ah right." Marco puffed out as he brushed himself free of crumbs. 

"No, no, it's somebody new!" Lance's mother almost spewed even more propaganda to his family. Lance quickly hissed at her, doing a ‘zip-it’ gesture with his hand. His mother only giggled at his exaggerated expressions. 

"Well Lance was always below her standards anyway, he's better off moving on from her." Rachel snickered, earning a stabbing glare from Lance. If this was the original, eighteen year old Lance he totally would have snapped back with something along the lines of 'I could date Allura if I wanted to', but now after living his future and watching Allura get married off to someone who was - in fact - not him, Lance figured there was no point in arguing with something that was unfortunately not wrong. Thus he simply huffed and slunked back in his seat, nibbling on his nearly finished muffin. 

“I do not have a crush.”

"Well whoever this mystery crush is, make sure you treat her well." Lance's father started, his wife cutting in quietly with a 'or he', to which Lance's father followed with a dismissive 'yes, yes,’. Lance’s eyes shifted to his father before quickly flicking away again.

"Yeah, because personality is all you've got going for you, really.." Veronica teased earning an enthusiastic high-five from Rachel. Lance wanted to be mad, but just the sight of his family interacting in a way he hadn't seen in years was providing him way too much joy to feel any negative emotions at all. 

Luis was the first to take his leave, insisting he take a shower at home before planting a kiss on his mother’s head and making his way towards the door. Of course, he lightly smacked the back of Lance’s head on his way making Lance’s face split into a grin. Luis had two kids to take care of, and despite his wife insisting it was fine for him to go help his father with the garden, Luis would never leave her to take care of Silvio and Nadia alone all day. After finishing his muffin Lance excused himself, kissing his mother's cheek before skipping up the stairs. He made his way down the hallway of his house before stopping in front of a blue door. Words would be insufficient to describe the excitement that Lance felt standing in front of that door, seeing the scratches and dents and the chipping paint Lance never bothered replacing. It had been when he was just eight and it was never redone since, just left as it was. Seeing the door to his childhood room right in front of him made Lance want to laugh and cry. Finally, after standing for an awkwardly long amount of time outside, Lance pushed open the door to his room.

As soon as the door opened Lance's mouth split into a grin so wide it hurt his cheeks. He stepped inside, gazing around the room like a child in an aquarium for the first time. It was a tight space, he did have four siblings after all. His two sisters had a room in the attic, Luis and Marco sharing a room until Luis moved out, letting Marco get a room to himself. Lance was lucky enough to be the only boy to get his own room from the beginning, the catch being that it was the smallest bedroom in the house. Not that it was a very small room in the first place, besides, he never cared - he'd choose having his own tiny room than sharing any day. His single bed tucked was in the back left corner, the light blue wall above adorned with various prints  of him and his friends stuck in a far from orderly collage. His desk was opposite his bed, the walls above filled with shelves packed to the brim with different trinkets from Lance's childhood. And his wardrobe fit snugly on the wall to the left of the door. Probably the feature of Lance's room that he missed the most when he moved out was the ceiling which he had embellished with glow in the dark stars when he was about thirteen. Miraculously they still worked over ten years later. He kicked his door behind him after he stepped inside, his insides warming as if someone had lit a fire within him.

"My room!" Lance cried out, running and diving onto his bed with a grunt. He lay in the soft hold of his bed, rolling over onto his stomach and stretching to stick his arm under the bed to palm around to try to find something. Due to the tiny size of his bedroom, Lance had to resort to boxes under his bed to store everything. Eventually he grabbed hold of a box, clawing around inside and whipping out something that felt like a book. Lance let out a triumphant cheer once he successfully pulled out what was, as expected, a book - a marine biology book to be exact. Lance had a fascination with marine biology when he was younger (especially sharks), so he ended up with a collection of books on all sorts of sea life. Unfortunately, once Lance moved out he didn't have room to keep the books, so they ended up in some closet or second hand shop, coated in dust. He smiled as a painfully nostalgic wave washed over him like a kick to the gut, abandoning the book to jump to his feet once again to admire the shelf of knick knacks above his desk..

"My swimming trophy, my archery trophy... Oh, my Dancer of the Summer trophy from cub camp!" Lance sighed.

I was a jack of all trades, no wonder the girls loved me.

Lance smirked. He had always been a ladies man, so he never understood why he couldn't get a girl to stick around.

Jack of all trades, master of none. 

Lance looked away from the shelf, turning around to open his wardrobe doors and peer inside. It was packed to the brim with all of his old clothes. He grinned, picking out his old band t-shirts and shirts, his jeans and sweatpants. He looked good in anything really, but his favourite jeans and shirt were currently on him, an old pair of sweatpants and a worn shirt tossed at the end of bed. He was probably wearing that this morning, or planning to wear it when he got home. It was weird to think that past Lance had plans before future Lance came and interrupted everything. Inside Lance's wardrobe, hanging on the door was a full length mirror vandalised with peeling stickers of stars and planets. He took this opportunity to really get a good look at himself. It was surreal really, seeing yourself ten years in the past, not through a photo but in your own reflection, making every microscopic move you make. His limbs were long, though more lean than the lanky and almost malnourished appearance his future self would have. His face was glowing thanks to the daily skin routine he never skipped, and his hair was soft and healthy (though ridiculously untamed in the morning). 

Eventually Lance found himself returning downstairs, sauntering back into the kitchen where Marco and Carlos stood by the back door, talking quietly to each other as they sipped on coffee while Veronica typed on a laptop, something she was doing most of the time, and Rosa sorted through some of the papers absentmindedly abandoned on the dining table. Rachel was hunched over her phone, just about sparing Lance a glance as he sauntered in. 

"What're you smiling about?" She spoke as she straightened up, tearing her attention from her phone.

Lance shrugged. "Can't a guy just smile?" 

Rachel raised a suspicious brow. "Not really." She stated. “You're probably smirking because you were skipping class today." 

Lance's mother gasped, head shooting up to gape at Lance. "You skipped class?!"

Lance scowled, glaring at Rachel who stared smugly. "I wasn't!"

Rachel shrugged. "Well when I was getting stuff for Professor Montgomery I saw you running through the halls."

Lance blushed slightly but retorted quickly. "I had a bathroom emergency!" It wasn't exactly a lie, he was in the bathroom, he just took a detour back to it.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Sure, Lance."

Lance scoffed, his lips twitching up into a smirk as he spat back. "Oh yeah? And when were you gonna tell Mom and Dad about the math tests you keep failing?"

The room fell silent, even Veronica's tapping halted, everyone staring at Rachel in shock. Everyone was expecting her to deny it and continue to bicker with Lance, nobody taken aback when her cheeks flushed and she seethed at her brother. "How do you know that?" 

"Really, Rachel?" Their mother gasped, Lance's father springing into an upright position and hurrying to address the situation too. 

"It's true? Why didn't you say?" Carlos’ voice was gruff but far from angry.

Rachel almost cried, throwing the cloth which she was drying with onto the counter and lifting them up to her face. "I didn't wanna tell you because I didn't wanna get you mad!" 

Lance's mother sighed. "Rachel, we wouldn't get mad unless you didn't tell us. We-" Rosa looked to her husband who nodded, not exactly knowing what his wife was going to say but agreeing anyway. It always tended to be that way, they rarely disagreed so they never really needed to consult on anything anyway. "We'll just get you a tutor." 

Lance froze, reality coming back to him all at once he almost fell over.

What happened?

It was as if his natural teenage self came back to him. Just a few hours in his old body and already he had been totally absorbed by his hot-headed teen tendencies. 

"A tutor? Maybe she should just study harder." Lance mumbled, not really intending for it to sound so pointed, only causing Rachel to get more upset. He mentally scolded himself again.

"Don't you think I've been studying hard?!" She yelled, causing Lance to flinch and mutter a hushed 'jeez' under his breath. Rachel was always snappy with Lance but it had been a while since he was the target of her moodiness. Rosa sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before speaking up. 

"Rachel, don't worry we'll get you a tutor." Carlos began, "And Lance, instead of using this as a way to target your sister you should have told us privately, or not told us at all." 

Lance had no idea what had come over him at that moment, probably being so overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the last few hours that he had lost all self control. He had just travelled back in time ten years. Either way, he didn’t quite enjoy being scolded by his parents again after so long. Lance quickly uttered an apology before making his way outside. He didn't really know where he was going, but he was exactly worried - it's not like he would get lost in his hometown. So he just took off, walking in any random direction and letting his body choose his destination.

Lance ended up walking around his old home town and visiting old hangouts he and his friends used to frequent. He visited the old park where they would usually sneak out late at night to order junk food and watch the stars (and listen to Pidge's never ending rambles about all sorts of quantum stuff Lance never understood). He saw the corner store Lance would spend all of his childhood pocket money in, and also where Lance got his first part-time job. He promptly left that job, the start of his terrible luck in the working world. He walked past his old elementary school, he passed the barber where Shiro used to work part-time and give him haircuts for a discount. Lance almost went to get haircuts every week just to get to talk to Shiro (his parents had to force him to stop wasting all of his money). Thankfully, Shiro decided the barber’s life was not for him. Lance also saw the bridge he and his friends would jump off at the end of every school year. An old tradition of sorts, but they also did it frequently during the summer on random warm days.

Soon after wandering for at least two hours Lance came back home and made himself familiar with his things again. He glanced over his school timetable and got his mom to write him a note for the lack of homework he did that day. After preparing himself, he decided there was no point in staying up and coming up with a plan of attack now, not while he was fighting for his life to keep his eyes open. So instead, he lazily changed into pyjamas, tossing his worn clothes into a corner and slipping into his bed. 

One thing that made Lance frustrated in the future was his insomnia. He wasn't able to afford medication to help him sleep, which usually resulted in multiple restless nights. Most of the time Lance only got three or four hours of sleep - and that's if he was really lucky. Sometimes he would lay restless at night, his mind buzzing for no apparent reason. It was odd, being a grown man and crying himself to sleep. He had always thought men were supposed to be strong like Luis, or never cry like his father. It was a total stereotype to say that men don't cry, but Lance always assumed that when he grew old he would be just that stereotype - never crying or worrying. He assumed he would have kids, he would have a loving wife and a job and a huge family that would surround him and love him forever. It wasn't that he was ever lazy or an underachiever, it was just that after multiple years of attempts that led to failure Lance had lost motivation, something he never saw himself running out of. 

Ten years prior, Lance could sleep without a single worry weighing him down, without guilt crushing his chest every night as he trained himself to breathe. And now, as he wrapped himself up in a warm duvet and curled up on top of a mattress that was soft and forgiving against his body, Lance had no trouble forgetting his future self and drowning himself in the charade of the carefree Lance who didn't have a single care in the world, whose head was filled with planets and stardust, whose brain was void of any worries and whose sleep was blessed only with pleasant dreams.

Chapter Text

April 13th, Wednesday

28 days

The following morning Lance found himself laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated what he could possibly do. He had been up for an hour already just thinking about what had happened, replaying each moment like an obsessive detective, certain he would find something in the next few minutes that he senselessly rambled to himself. Lance had done everything to make sure he wasn’t dreaming from pinching himself to looking at clocks, even searching online how to make sure you were awake. Suffice to say that everything he tried has only proved what he already knew to be true. What was certain so far was that Lance had been sent back in time, and he was pretty sure it was that strange old man in the park who did it. He didn't know exactly how he was sent back, but as for why, Lance definitely wasn’t short on guesses. Considering the first thing he saw upon waking up was the eyes of (the very alive) Keith Kogane, Lance figured it had something to do with him. Though Lance had been completely left in the lurch, unsure whether he should be planning his rescue mission in risk of having that strange old man show up and telling him not to be meddling in Keith’s life. Something about the image in his mind of that only man appearing at the foot of his bed made Lance’s skin crawl. Plus, by now the excitement and spunk had long left Lance’s body, now just leaving him a pitiful ball of confusion mixed with hormones Lance had believed he would never have to experience again. 

Nonetheless, Lance found himself sitting in homeroom the next morning, leg bouncing anxiously under his desk as his pounding heart created a rapid yet consistent beat that reverberated around his skull. He stared at the door, having arrived earlier than his teen self could have ever fathomed, just to be here when Keith arrived. What was he planning on doing once Keith did arrive? He hadn’t decided yet. Apparently an hour of frozen panic in bed accompanied by a twenty minute, stress powered walk to school wasn’t a good environment to come up with feasible solutions. Lance chewed on his thumbnail to try to calm himself. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. 

The classroom door creaked open catching Lance's attention. He perked up, heart leaping to his throat as his leg finally came to a rest. Lance’s eyes met a honey coloured pair that dissolved his anxiety away so swiftly, it was as if it had never been there in the first place. Hunk shuffled inside, shortly followed by Pidge. Not exactly who he was hoping to see, however Lance realised that they may have been exactly what he needed in that moment. He couldn’t stop his smile as the two grabbed their chairs and spun them around to more comfortably scrutinise him.

"Morning guys." Lance hummed, the sight of his friends in their returned youth leaving him melting in his chair. His chin fell into his hands as he admired the two before him, Pidge’s eyes narrowing suspiciously while Hunk’s face held a confused sort of concern, though evidently fighting his own smile. Lance figured he and Pidge had discussed Lance’s intervention before they arrived, or maybe they were planning on discussing it now only for Lance to have come to class earlier. In the time Lance spent admiring his fellow teens, he noticed the puffiness of Pidge’s face, the dark bags under her eyes looking extra heavy on her small face. 

"You okay Pidge? You look kinda..." Lance trailed off, struggling to find a way to put it lightly. 

"Terrible?" Pidge filled in for him, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing her head back, a muffled groan vibrating in her throat. Lance’s chest bubbled with warmth seeing little Pidge act just the same despite the decade time difference. 

"Well I wouldn't say terrible but... yeah terrible." Hunk craned his neck to try to get a thorough peak at Pidge's face himself. 

"You jamming out all night?" Lance teased. He was expecting to have a harder time acting like his younger self, yet weirdly enough he didn't even need to think. Just by being in his teen body, surrounded by scenery of his childhood, staring into the carefree eyes of his teen friends, Lance found himself speaking just like he always had back then. The change was as easy a switch as changing the channel on a TV. Or maybe his brain had just undeveloped. Either way, pretending to be himself wasn’t exactly a difficult task. 

Pidge groaned, pulling herself up and holding her head up with her hands. "No, I've been trying to recode a drone my dad found in a dumpster. I wanted to add some new features, maybe even give it some artificial intelligence. I want to find a way for it to make it's own decisions, kinda just go on about its day. And if it encounters something new it can come up with its own reaction without me having to code for every possibility. I was actually also considering giving it-"

"Okay so you were up doing science stuff. Got it." Lance cut in, his mind static. Ten years wasn’t nearly enough time to make Lance understand Pidge’s rambles when she had them. Not even twenty years could.  

Pidge shot an unimpressed look at Lance, though she wasn't surprised. Her rants were often met with interruption. Her interests were just too advanced for her simple-minded friends. Though Hunk could keep up half of the time if he was really interested. When it came to Matt and Shiro she could go off for as long as she wanted, of course, only if she was willing to listen to the guys' own input which would be just as long, if not longer than her own rants.

"So Lance, you gonna fill us in on what happened yesterday?" Pidge asked, trying to shift the conversation to something the boys could actually take part in. 

And then the realisation crossed him. Should I tell Pidge and Hunk the truth?

It goes without saying there are just as many downsides as there are upsides to confessing to his friends. On the upside, he would get a substantial weight lifted off his own shoulders, though it would be by shifting that weight onto their shoulders. He would be able to handle the situation much more efficiently too, getting ideas from two different people with two different perspectives. However, on the other hand, what sane person would take him seriously if he told them he was from ten years in the future and Keith was going to die in a few weeks from now. Though realistically, if anyone were to believe him it would be Hunk 'trust-literally-anything-that-comes-out-of-Lance's-mouth' Garrett and Katie 'science-can-explain-literally-anything' Holt. But Lance didn't really like the idea of freaking the two of them out. It wasn't Pidge or Hunk that was sent back, it was him. When he thought about it, what if Hunk and Pidge were also from the future. If they were, they were acting very casual about it. Neither of them cried the second they saw Keith, so maybe not. Or maybe Lance overreacted? He doubted it, seeing a man who’s been dead the past ten years was no small thing. Either way, there was no need to rope his friends into the problem of he was the only one who was sent back.

"What d'you mean? What part of yesterday? There was like… a whole day of it." Lance joked, though really he was just trying to avoid having to explain what happened, or rather having to conjure a lie about what happened.

"You know what part I'm talking about." Pidge replied, clearly not latching onto Lance's bait. 

"Right, you and Keith just disappeared for like, ten minutes. But when you guys came back neither of you were bleeding or bruised. What happened?" Hunk added, leaning towards Lance with clear anticipation. Hunk was expecting there to have been some juicy confrontation, all verbal, all drama. Lance wasn't sure if he would be amazed or disappointed at the fact that Lance had just cried. 

"Well..." Should I tell them? 

"Lance, come on. You've never been secretive with us before." Hunk frowned, drawing away from Lance. They both were frowning at Lance, Lance guessed they were worried about him. He had always been such an open book. Why did he have such a big mouth? Lance sighed, shoulders sagging. 

"Well… D'you guys think I've been a little too, i don't know, aggressive when it comes to Keith?" Lance finally answered, catching the others completely off guard. 

" Do we what ?" Pidge and Hunk spoke in freakish unison.

"I mean I've always thought our rivalry was just that, a rivalry for us to let off steam. But that's just what I think, do you guys think it's about time we kinda … grow up?" Lance said, finally feeling looking at each of his friends to judge their reactions.

"Lance..." Pidge started, not entirely sure where to go. 

Hunk scratched his chin, lips twitching as he fought to contain a smile. "Lance, hearing such a mature thought coming from your mouth is honestly a little scary." 

Pidge quickly nodded. "Agreed."

Lance let out an exasperated sigh, scowling at his two friends. “Come on you guys, I’m being serious! This is our last year in highschool, don’t you think we should all try to be friends?” Lance insisted, desperately looking between his two friends. Hunk and Pidge glanced at each other with contemplative frowns. 

“Did your prefrontal cortex develop overnight?” Pidge asked. 

“My what?”

Before the conversation could progress anymore the subject of conversation himself sauntered in, just as roughed up and edgy looking as always. He tossed his bag on the floor by his desk before collapsing into his seat. He and Pidge naturally exchanged short pleasantries, them sitting beside each other and all. Shiro arrived shortly after, coming over to Keith's seat with his signature warm smile, the two of them beginning their own short conversation. It wasn't like they could continue talking about Keith with him sitting just a few feet away. Instead, after sharing understanding looks, Hunk began raving about this new brownie recipe he found that only had two ingredients. Lance was not even microscopically convinced that it would work. Though Hunk wouldn't be able to win Lance over either way, he wasn't even paying attention to the conversation. Lance was too busy staring at someone else, still overcome with a sense of melancholy at the sight of a dead person once again breathing right before his eyes. He was lost in thought, staring at the back of Keith's head for so long that he didn't realise Shiro had been watching him. When Lance finally did catch Shiro's eyes he seized up and quickly turned away, pretending he was actually listening to Hunk’s failing debate about his suspicious recipes. He had been caught staring, there was no doubt about it. But Lance still had a sliver of dignity he wanted to preserve. He then busied himself by getting involved in the brownie debate until Coran had arrived to take roll call.

Lunch came in the blink of an eye. Time really flies when you're having fun, and Lance hadn't had this much fun in years. While class was just the same repeated routine every week, it was pure ecstasy in comparison to the desperate slavery Lance found in failing adult jobs. He would choose geography over being a busboy in a bistro any day. And for the very first time in his life Lance actually enjoyed maths, much to Pidge and Hunk's horror. He was easily the happiest high school student in the country. Lance, Pidge and Hunk made their way to the canteen, all the while engaging in conversation that was much easier than Lance was expecting. Much to his relief, it was as if not a single day had passed since the three had spoken. Well, it hadn't for the others, but for him it had been way too long. They got their share of food before making their way over to the table they always occupied. It was a good seat, close to the doors leading outside but not so close it was cold. It also had a good view of the entire hall due to the bench being nestled in the corner. And thanks to this feature Lance was able to keep his eye on a certain someone.

Lance watched Keith so closely it was as if he were a scientist observing a newly discovered species. He watched as Keith got his food, exchanging small talk with the lunch ladies and showing a rare and small smile. Lance was surprised Keith could engage in basic human interaction. Once he got his food Keith made a b-line for the doors. Lance almost jumped to his feet, but quickly caught himself and only straightened his back like a ruler, clearing his throat as if it would clear any suspicion along with it. He sighed in defeat. How was he supposed to do this if Keith was just going to disappear as soon as they left the classroom? 

A sudden loud slam caused Lance, as well as most other people in the cafeteria, to jump out of their skins. Lance spun around to be met with a practically vibrating Matt and a much calmer Shiro. "Hello Lance." Matt began, shifting his lunch tray forward a bit before shoving Pidge down the bench so he could take a seat directly in front of Lance. Pidge groaned, unhappy her conversation with Hunk had been so rudely interrupted yet scooted down nonetheless. "A little birdy told me about a conversation you may have had earlier this morning in relation to a certain someone in our class..." Matt began coolly as he took a sip from his carton of grape juice. 

Pidge shot a betrayed glare at Matt. Just as always, it appeared Pidge had difficulty keeping gossip from her exhaustively drama-thirsty brother. She and Hunk sat quietly, listening to the others talk as if it was their own personal podcast. 

Lance looked between the two before his eyes landed on Matt. "If you're talking about Allura you don't have to worry, I'm not interested in her anymore." Lance answered, oblivious to the fact that Allura was not who he was referring to. 

Everyone at the table choked on whatever they had been eating or drinking in the moment of Lance dropping his jarring confession. Lance having a crush on Allura had been his personality for the past several years. For him to drop his crush so quickly, it was safe to say nobody expected it. Of course, nobody knew it had really taken Lance multiple years to come to this point of acceptance. He had cried the day he received her wedding invitation.

Being the hero that he is, Shiro cleared his throat and sent a warm smile in Lance’s direction. “How are you feeling, Lance? I heard uh… I heard about your hamster.” Lance felt as if a black hole had opened in his stomach and was draining the blood from his body. 

“Hamster?” Hunk repeated, not unlike one himself. 

“Yeah, my hamster… It died yesterday morning, you guys.” Lance forced a sigh and sent a worried look in Hunk’s direction. There was a slim chance he would catch on. 

“Lance, you don’t-” He began, Lance hurrying to butt in. 

“I didn’t have the heart to tell you guys! Just thinking about it… it just made me cry again.” Lance desperately shot a look at Pidge who had been staring at him with an unimpressed glower. 

She sighed, “I am so sorry Lance. I can’t believe Pidge Junior died. It must have been heartbreaking… Our beloved PJ has ascended to hamster heaven.” She withered melodramatically, laying the back of her hand against her forehead as she gazed towards the sky, watching the imaginary soul of Pidge Junior.

“Wait, Lance named his hamster after you? Why haven’t I heard about this?” Matt quizzed. “There’s no way you wouldn’t brag about that.”

Hunk was silent from confusion. 

“Seriously, Lance’s hamster died and you’re telling me you didn’t even know she existed ?” Pidge scoffed. 

Matt stared at his younger sister in utter disbelief for several seconds before shaking off the confusion and turning to Lance. “Well, we’re not here to discuss that - but I am sorry for your loss, hamsters are really beautiful creatures. So much love in such tiny bodies -”

Shiro cut in, "Well it's just that we've noticed you kind of... we’ll you’ve been acting different since yesterday and we thought there might be something going on." Shiro said, taking his own seat beside Matt. He spoke more calmly, now the whole encounter sounded more like a conversation now rather than an intervention. "Of course we could be wrong -" he shot a look at Matt who made it a point to ignore said glare. 

"I don't get it..." Lance muttered, hoping that his feigning ignorance could scare them off, or even buy him some time to come up with literally anything to defend himself in this moment. He could feel his skin prickling under the harsh stare of Matt and Shiro.  

"You know, you’ve been a lot quieter lately, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s also nice when you’re loud. Believe it or not, hearing your yelling in the morning is quite refreshing." Shiro spoke with a tone so much more mature and thoughtful than commonly seen from people his age, of course flashing his signature smile. Lance could feel himself warm up from Shiro’s words, a quality that Lance never realised how much he had missed. 

"Not to mention the longing gazing towards Keith this morning." Matt chimed in.

Hunk's cheeks were stuffed with bread resulting in an absolutely priceless expression. Lance probably would have taken a picture to treasure the image for the rest of his life if not for the fact that he was being accused, all because his looking at Keith had been taken completely out of context. He could feel his ears burning in embarrassment. He tried to take a deep breath before calmly replying. 

"I wasn't gazing lovingly at Keith!" Okay so it came out a lot less calm than Lance intended but whatever. 

"I never said lovingly ..." Matt hummed, the heat rising now to Lance's cheeks as he fisted his hands in frustration.

Matt snickered, reaching over to grab a chip from Shiro's tray and taking a bite out of it. Shiro seemed unphased, probably conditioned to not care anymore.

"Seriously, I was just zoning out..." Lance muttered like a scolded child. 

Everyone stared at Lance, but before Pidge could call him out, someone's phone loudly chimed. Lance broke out in a cold sweat, silently thanking the universe for the perfectly timed interruption. Everyone checked their phones, Shiro ending up being the one to actually take his out. He quickly typed something before rising to his feet and returning his phone to his pocket.

"Duty calls." Is all he said before stepping out from the bench and picking up his lunch.

Matt looked up to Shiro with a frown. "Where are you going? A date?"

"In school?"

"You never know!" 

Shiro scoffed, "No, it's just some student council stuff I gotta take care of."

Matt hopped up to follow Shiro, but not before he sent a smug, all-knowing look in Lance's direction. Shiro quickly sent Lance his condolences about his hamster before the two walked away. To say the air was tense after the others left was a major understatement. Hunk and Pidge continued to stare at each other, as if discussing Matt and Shiro's accusations with their minds. So Lance sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, "So stupid, ‘gazing longingly at Keith’, so stupid."

Pidge shrugged. "Well you were giving him puppy dog-eyes when he was in the lunch line." She giggled as she tapped away on her phone concealed under the lunch table. Lance scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

"I was not giving him puppy dog-eyes ..." He muttered. He had to do a double take on what he just did, realising he was slipping into his eighteen year old self's persona again. Seeing himself grow more and more teen-like made Lance internally weep and mourn for his lost maturity. He tried to convince himself that it was normal to revert back to his old ways considering his surroundings.

"I don't know man," Hunk started, taking a bite out of his sandwich before continuing with full cheeks, "maybe you weren't but it totally looked like it to us."

Lance was about to go into full-on defence mode, but he did something he had never done before: he thought before he spoke. He took a few moments to think to himself, consider the possible approaches he could have to this situation. Okay Lance, he thought, let's really think this through. You could keep defending yourself because you definitely were not giving Keith 'puppy dog-eyes’, you would never. But you've got to get close to Keith. How else are you supposed to figure out what happened? Plus, you've only got a month left before ‘it’ happens…

"Well... maybe I kinda was." Pidge and Hunk froze, Hunk's mouth hanging open mid-bite, Pidge's thumb hovering over the send button about to send what looked like a picture of her dog wearing shoes. "Not necessarily in that way but, you know..."

"Uhh can't say I do, no.” Hunk admitted, his mouth shutting before he set his sandwich down, no bite taken. Wow, I really must have surprised him if he stopped eating. 

"How hard did you hit your head on the desk yesterday?." Pidge still stared in bewilderment at Lance's sudden confession. He rolled his eyes. 

"So you think I'm crazy. Fine, I shouldn't have said anything!" 

"Lance, of course we believe you!" Hunk cut in, his eyes dropping to his food which he had half eaten. "We're just sort of... surprised."

Pidge silently nodded in agreement, finally pressing send on that pending message before placing her phone down to give Lance her full attention. Hunk took another bite of his sandwich, probably to help him pay better attention - if he didn't he just would have been thinking about eating his sandwich and not giving Lance his full attention.

”We never did get to finish that conversation we started earlier.” Pidge began cautiously.

“Right…” Lance began, and when met with continued silence he kept speaking, "I suppose... I wanna get to know Keith. Seize an old chance and… get another… chance or whatever." 

“What?” Hunk blurted. 

Yeah Lance wasn't surprised that Pidge and Hunk were confused. He was still confused, really. 

"Get to know him?" Pidge repeated. 

"And maybe even become… friends with him." Lance added.

"Friends with him?" Hunk echoed. 

"Am I sitting at a table with two parrots or..." 

"Where did this all come from?" Pidge started, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Hunk nodded, "I mean, just last Friday you almost set the lab on fire because you tried to burn Keith's homework on a Bunsen burner!" Oh, that was last week? "You just about avoided a suspension thanks to Coran being so soft on you. And now you want to be friends with him?"

"I'm a changed person now!" Lance put his hands up in surrender. 

"You taped a piece of paper saying 'kick me' on Keith's bag two days ago." Pidge deadpanned. 

"Well it was an overnight transformation, okay?" Lance grumbled, turning to face away from Pidge. He should have expected they wouldn't take this as easy as he had hoped. 

"So… why the sudden change of heart?" Hunk asked, shoving the final bite of his sandwich into his mouth and watching Lance expectantly.

"Well... we're adults now..." Lance wrung his hands together anxiously, the thought of what could happen in just a few weeks an omnipresent shadow in the back of his mind, "I mean, highschool is supposed to be the best years of our lives. I don't want it to end with me on bad terms with anyone, even Keith." Especially not since I've gotten another chance

Chapter Text

Lance ran through the school hallway, dodging other students as he hurried to get to his homeroom. That's where Keith usually stayed during lunch breaks, Lance remembered that - specifically he remembered how weird it was he spent lunch alone every day (it's not like Matt and Shiro wouldn't spend it with him). Lance also remembered his lunch breaks being only thirty minutes long in the morning, which never really felt long enough, and now that Lance's time to interact with Keith was limited it felt shorter than ever.

Lance had spontaneously decided to try to break the ice with Keith sooner rather than later and left Pidge and Hunk hanging very soon after. Safe to say they were both completely gobsmacked from his sudden change of heart, but Lance didn't have time to reassure his friends with another person's life on the line. Lance began to worry that he would end up with no time to talk to Keith. Picking up the pace he spun around the corner, slipping slightly from the sudden turn but nonetheless soldiering on. Just as he made it to the hallway that his homeroom classroom was situated in, the sharp shriek of the school bell rang through the speakers.

How did lunch pass so quickly? What class did Lance have now anyway? He racked his brain trying to remember the schedule he tried to study the night before. History? Maybe? Lance always thought history was pointless, he didn't really care about some random people who died a hundred years ago and invented some new voting system or whatever. He'd choose literally any other subject over history really, even math.

His heart began to race, realising he was running out of time. He took off once more, the door to the base room just in sight. At last he spun around and darted into the class, eager to see if Keith was still there. 

Fortunately, Keith was in the classroom. 

Unfortunately, Keith was directly in the doorway when Lance bounced in. 

There was a very uncomfortable knocking sound as the two collided, and then an even louder bang after the collision. Lance stumbled backwards, stunned from the impact. He quickly reached out, groping at the air until he got hold of the doorframe to steady himself before he could fall over. Once he came back to his senses Lance looked in front of himself, eyes slowly drifting down before they landed on the very person he was looking for, lying on the floor, groaning in pain. Lance's eyes widened so wide he thought they could pop out, his heart jumping up to his throat. 

"Keith! Are you okay?" Lance cried, scrambling forward to help Keith. 

Seeing Lance approach, Keith kicked out his legs in what seemed to be a desperate attempt to stand before Lance could try to help him up. Lance only ended up tripping over Keith's sprawled out legs and, as Keith tried to hall himself off the floor, Lance came tumbling right back down on top of him, his nose driving right into Keith's shoulder. A red hot pain shot through Lance’s face, spreading behind his eyes and wrapping around his skull. Keith collapsed again, cradling his throbbing head in his hands while Lance rolled away, cupping his nose in his hands. Both boys were making similar long, pained groans.

"You idiot..." Keith groaned, slowly sitting up and holding his head in his hands. "What the hell were you doing?" 

Lance didn't respond, completely droning out Keith's voice and he tried to meditate the pain away. His toes curled as he mustered up all of his strength to not cry. There was no way he was going to cry in front of Keith. Not again, anyway.

"Lance!" Keith seethed, grabbing Lance by the shoulder and turning the whimpering man to face him. But once Keith caught sight of Lance's face his anger shifted to disgust. "You- you're bleeding..." Keith spoke. Lance's hands drooped for a moment, face dropping in horror at the sight of his hands completely coated in his own blood, trickling down his wrists like a stream. "A lot."

"Jeez I feel like my face was hit by a bus..." Lance groaned, cupping his nose with his hands again to hide the dizzying amount of blood. It was beginning to seep through his fingers, running down the back of his hands and down his knuckles. The two boys watched the increasing flow as it travelled down Lance’s arms, Keith’s disgust gradually melting away into acute panic. Unsteady without the support of his hands, Lance made a scrambling attempt to stand up. Keith jumped up, grabbing Lance by the arm and helping him to his feet. Lance muttered a quick 'thanks' as he struggled to stop blood dripping onto the floor.

“Well my head feels like it was hit by a bus." Keith hissed, “Why the hell were you running into the class like that?” 

"I was in a rush!" 

" For what ?"

"I uh..." Lance trailed off. What was he supposed to say in this situation? I came looking for you because I need to be your friend before you disappear off the face of the earth? "Well, I don't really remember..." 

Keith's angered expression extinguished, taking a step closer to Lance's hunched figure. "You don’t remember?"

“Uh… no.” Lance lied. 

Lance watched in stunned surprise as Keith inspected him, his hands coming up to grab each side of Lance’s head and tilt it up. 

"Uh, sore ." Lance whined with a grimace.

Keith hummed quietly to himself, looking deeply into Lance's eyes. "Do you feel sick? Dizzy?" Keith asked. 

Lance was frozen in place as he watched every one of Keith’s movements. Each twitch of his finger or flick of his wrist seemed to be done with precision and intention, careful and gentle while firm. Keith seemed seriously concerned, and Lance couldn’t help but wonder if Keith had always been this way and if younger Lance was simply oblivious to it all. Lance felt his chest warm and his lips threatened to twitch into a smile if Lance lost control of them. He realised seeing this side of Keith was quite pleasant. 

But he soon snapped back to his senses, “forget it, I'll be fine. I just need some tissue for my nose." Lance shrugged, attempting to turn around to go find something to stop his gushing nose. Before he could make any move however, Keith’s hands snapped Lance’s face back to face his own. 

"No, you should go to the nurse." Keith almost ordered, Lance scoffing. 

“It’s not that big a deal-” He attempted in vain as Keith was quick to interrupt him. 

“You hit your head and all of a sudden you’re in a daze and forgetting things? That’s not normal, Lance.” Keith insisted, the sudden care so foreign to Lance. He felt numb as he watched Keith secure his arm around Lance's shoulders and guide him out the door. Lance could still feel the warmth of Keith’s hands on his cheeks. Lance didn’t even notice the odd glances he received as Keith directed him down the hallway. 

This isn’t necessarily a bad idea. Some alone time with Keith to sort out my plan… 

Some schools don't have a nurse. Luckily for Lance and Keith, their school did. And they were regulars to her office. By the end of their first year in Altea High, Mrs Balmera was scolding Lance and Keith like they were her own children. She would lecture and give Lance a light slap upside the head, other times she would send him warm, motherly smiles across the corridor or offer him a sherbet lemon from her apron pocket as she passed. In theory, if they didn't have the convenience of such a pleasant school nurse they probably would have fought less. The visits to the nurse’s office were always more like visiting an aunt, visits where Lance just so happened to have a scuffed cheek or, in this case, a profusely bleeding nose. 

After hauling the swooning Lance down the corridor, earning countless odd yet unsurprised looks from passing students, Keith kicked the nurse's office door open and dragged Lance inside. He looked around before calling out, "Mrs Balmera?"

Soon enough the ageing face of the school nurse peeked out from behind a white curtain, not needing her glasses to know who had entered her office. "I'll be there in a moment, dear, pick a bed." She spoke, her smooth voice showing no sign of surprise. She spoke without thinking, the whole charade becoming routine for her. 

Keith guided Lance over to the bed furthest from the door, gently laying him down before pulling the flimsy curtain around them. It wasn't long before Mrs Balmera shuffled over to the boys, a damp cloth in hand which Lance assumed was for his nose. He took it gratefully and immediately lifted it up to cover his nostrils. She then huffed, reaching up to slap Keith over the head with a scowl. Keith let out a yelp of pain, reaching up and sourly rubbing his head. 

"I thought I told you boys not to fight anymore! Now look, one of you is gushing like Niagara Falls!" Mrs Balmera scolded as she shuffled over to a cabinet to fish out some medicine. While she was a truly warm and compassionate person, Mrs Balmera had the mouth of a sailor. Her words now were surprisingly tame, she could use some truly colourful language when she was truly agitated.

"But we weren't fighting this time! Lance just ran into me!" Keith spoke, his voice raising an octave in defense. "He hit his head pretty badly, I’m not sure if he’s concussed. He was dizzy and nauseous on the way here, showed some confusion when he first hit his head, but he's speaking clearly and his vision seems to be fine." 

The nurse nodded, asking Lance short questions like where he was and how many fingers she was holding up. She flashed a light in Lance’s eyes before making her way behind her curtain to return with a small plastic cup of water and a couple pills. "Here you go, dear. You'll feel fit as a fiddle in a while."

Keith stepped over to help Lance sit up, taking the empty cups and tossing them in the trash when Lance was finished. Mrs Balmera took the time to assess Keith too, though he was quickly given some painkillers and dismissed. She then fetched Lance a fresh towel, bringing the bloodied one away. After a while she pulled the curtain open again, stopping before the boys and placing her hands on her hip firmly. 

"Now boys, I've called your teacher and told him the situation. Mister McClain, you rest up here. Don't look at your phone or any screen." She turned to give Keith a stern look. "And you, Mister Kogane, best watch over him. I don’t think he’s got a concussion but if he gets any worse, even the slightest bit, you call me. Alright?" 

"Yes, Mrs Balmera." Keith and Lance droned in unison like machines. 

“Mrs Balmera!” The nurses room crashed open and a duo stumbled inside. They were no older than fifteen, roughed up and wet eyed after a scuffle. A shorter boy with a bird’s nest of hair and watery eyes scurried over to the nurse.

The other boy stomped in after, hands shoved into his pockets and a sour expression on his face. His own eyes were threatening to spill over, and a bright red spot on his cheek was beginning to darken into a bruise. His eyes flicked over to Lance and Keith for a moment, observing the two before skulking away to Mrs Balmera’s desk. Mrs Balmera tutted, looking the two boys over before she shuffled her way over to her desk. Lance listened intently as Mrs Balmera scolded the two boys, Keith seemingly eavesdropping too as the silence between faded from awkward to static with intrigue. Mrs Balmer then suddenly turned to Lance and Keith, the older boys flinching and immediately flicking their eyes away, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that they were completely wrapped up in the drama unravelling before them. 

“You two will be fine if I leave you here alone, won't you?” She asked, lifting herself from her desk once more. “I’m bringing these two to the headmaster, this is a job for him, not me.” He scowled down at the boys, though true anger was nowhere to be seen in her eyes. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Keith said, back straight as a pole. 

Mrs Balmera flashed the two a warm smile. “You know where everything is.” She gave Lance a stern look. “And you, if you start to feel any worse, no matter how little it seems, you let me know. Alright? Press three on the phone on my desk and it’ll dial my phone, you hear?” 

“Y-yes ma’am.” Lance stuttered back. 

In the absence of the nurse, Lance felt the atmosphere grow thicker and thicker. He wrung his fingers together awkwardly, risking a quick look in Keith's direction. He was avoiding eye contact at all costs, eyes fixed ahead, posture rigid and upright like a soldier. Lance felt the urge to examine Keith with this rich opportunity. So he did just that, inspecting every hair on his head, every pore on his skin, every loose button on his worn shirt, every crease of his perpetual frown. 

Lance remembered how Keith was always hunched over as he stomped around the school. He always seemed to be irritated, as if his sour expression was frozen on his face, as if trying to tell people to leave him alone without speaking. He didn't have any friends besides Shiro and Matt, and he didn’t seem to want any either. Lance remembered the first day of highschool, how Keith took everyone’s attention with such ease. Keith naturally attracted people’s interest, him being so cool and mysterious. Lance was different; Lance had to work to get people’s favour. Keith had the natural appeal that Lance wanted, which of course made Lance exceedingly jealous. Lance always had issues holding back his emotions. Though after the first few weeks the attractiveness of Keith’s mystery had worn off, and people just began to see him as some stubborn kid who didn't want to talk to anyone. Meanwhile Lance continued to pump all of his energy into getting others to like him. When Lance thought about it, Keith was completely abandoned after those first few days. Lance sighed at the thought, teenagers are so depressing, really.

"Quite the show, huh?" Lance asked. 

Keith pulled his cold gaze from the door to shoot Lance a confused look. "What?"

"You couldn’t take your eyes away from the drama. You were enjoying the show, weren’t you?" 

"Don’t be stupid," Keith scoffed, avoiding Lance’s eyes.  

Lance snickered, “Well I enjoyed it. They were a bit on the dramatic side but-“ Lance caught an expression flash across Keith’s face, “what?”

Keith glanced at Lance. “Huh?” 

The corner of Lance's lip twitched into a smile. "What was that look?"

Keith shot a glare at Lance before shrugging nonchalantly. “Well I just think that’s pretty rich coming from you. Calling those guys dramatic.” 

Lance’s jaw dropped and a scoff choked its way out of Lance’s throat. “You’re saying I’m dramatic?” 

Keith’s eyes were nothing if not unimpressed as he regarded Lance. “You’re saying you’re not ?” 

Lance scowled and rolled his eyes, though the shadow of a smile on the corner of his lips betrayed him. 

“They’re kinda like us, don't you think?” Lance pushed to add, urging the other boy to help him fill the silence. “I felt kinda nostalgic looking at them.” He cooed. 

Keith snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t say I felt nostalgia. More like deja vu.” 

“Same thing.” Lance puffed. 

“Not really,” Keith began, eyes drifting around the room as he spoke. “Nostalgia means you miss the past.” 

“Don’t you miss our past?” Lance asked, satisfaction oozing from his smug smile. “Don’t you feel a sense of longing for our old fights?” 

Keith’s face remained indifferent, “Our ‘old fights’? You almost set the lab on fire last week because you tried to burn my textbook-“ 

“Let the past stay in the past!” Lance interjected, shooing Keith dismissively. Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, slouch finally returning to his posture. It brought a sense of familiarity that made Lance feel more at ease. The swelling satisfactions in Lance’s chest shrank as he watched Keith carefully, the sinkhole in his chest growing and swallowing everything in its path. Maybe it was nostalgia that made him feel this emptiness, maybe it should be more accredited to guilt or regret. No matter what it was called, Lance hated it. 

Keith only nodded, the conversation dissipating and the room shrinking to silence once again. Lance chewed the inside of his cheek, itching to find a new conversation topic, another way to try to break the ice between him and Keith. But before Lance needed to, Keith spoke quietly. 

"Do you..." Keith muttered, his gaze flicking to Lance before quickly darting away when their gaze met. He sighed, "do you feel any better?" 

Lance looked at Keith expectantly, as if he knew that Keith wasn’t saying what he really wanted to say. Lance dismissed this feeling, "yeah, a bit." He mumbled, a smile appearing on his face as he thought. "You know, you sounded pretty smart earlier when you were talking to Mrs Balmera. I don't know, you sounded like you knew what you were talking about." 

Keith glanced over to Lance. "Yeah... my mom taught me first aid just in case..."

"She a doctor or something?" Lance asked, slowly climbing to sit up straight again, intrigued by this new topic of discussion. Keith twitched as he watched Lance move, settling back into his seat one Lance had sat back against the wall.

“A nurse. She was always a real carer at heart. She even quit her job for a few months to take care of my grandma when she got sick.” The rare warmth that began to grow on Keith’s face froze, as he sucked in a deep breath and averted his gaze once again. It was as if every time he found himself opening up to Lance he would shrink back again. 

“She sounds great. Sounds like my mom, she’s a real carer too. Though she does all her caring at home. She’s got five kids and two grandkids to take care of, though if we weren’t such a handful I think she’d make a good nurse. My dad is the breadwinner.” 

“What’s he do?” Keith asked, shifting his body to face Lance by an extra fraction. 

“He’s a mechanic, though he sells the food he grows in our garden in the local market for some extra cash. I’m probably biassed, but I think the food we grow at home tastes way better than the stuff you buy in the store.” The light in Lance’s eyes seemed to spread to Keith whose own face grew softer. “What about your dad?”

Keith paused for a minute, a flash of pain flickering on his face for just a moment before it was replaced by his usual monotone. "He was a firefighter. The chief, actually. He died a few years ago." 

Lance froze, his stomach sinking at the realisation. He knew that Keith’s father had died, it had just been so long before he had recalled these details. Forget his dad, Keith had died a few years back. Lance cursed himself and his forgetful, careless tongue. "Sorry Keith, I shouldn’t have-”

"It's fine. It was a while ago, I don’t go around crying about him every time he’s mentioned." Keith looked down to his hands which were balled up in his lap. 

“I mean… it’s okay if you do.” 

Keith cast Lance a sideways look, barely a glare.

"Just- it’s fine if you want to cry whenever he’s mentioned. I understand how it feels to lose someone." Keith looked to Lance again. Lance suddenly couldn't find it in himself at that moment to look back, so he stared at the wall instead. "To lose someone unexpectedly." 

"Your… hamster?"

Lance choked on his own breath as he attempted to swallow the laugh, attempting to disguise it as a cough. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry in this situation. "Well, yeah I suppose, but uh- besides the hamster… I also lost…” Lance danced around the word in his mind for a moment, “a friend.” 

Keith shifted on the edge of the bed, turning so he now faced Lance. “Oh.” 

"Keith." Lance said, eyes meeting with Keith's. Lance’s eyes were bright with sincerity, earnesty. Keith seemed to freeze under his intense eyes, but Lance watched him squirm under his words. "I might be the last person you want to hear this from, but it’s okay, you know… to cry. The more you cry, the happier you know he made you." 

Keith's mouth remained clamped shut, his dark eyes unmoving as if he had been frozen in time. But Lance could hear Keith shakily inhale and exhale, he could see the muscle twitch in his jaw and the mist clouding his eyes. He abruptly jumped to his feet, fishing his phone from his pocket to check the time. 

"It's been a while now, I think we should head back to class." Keith said as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Sure, nothing much is gonna happen if we just stay here." Lance swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his feet onto the floor. Keith awkwardly shuffled over to Lance to make sure he could stand up, a hand hesitantly hovering over his shoulder as if it were scorching to the touch. Lance accepted the help to his feet, though he wouldn't let Keith help him walk any further than the door. There was no way Lance from the past would be caught being escorted by Keith, and he didn't know what he would do with himself if the word made its way to Matt.

Chapter Text

That night Lance closed his eyes and opened them to find himself laying down in a patch of lush grass. He sprung upright, looking around himself. The grass was soft and bright, sprinkled with different wildflowers. He looked up, the sky a vast blue without a single cloud in sight. Lance stumbled to his feet and began looking for any form of other life besides himself in acute panic. The only thing he found was a great oak tree that stood in the nearby distance, branches stretching high and wide into the sky, sprouting bushes of healthy green leaves. At this point Lance had realised he must be dreaming so, it being the only thing he could think of, Lance lifted his hand to pinch his cheek, more unsettled by the idea of being aware he was dreaming than excited to explore the possibilities of it.

Before his hand could make contact with his cheek though, a familiar voice chimed from behind him. "I wouldn't do that just yet."

Lance flinched, spinning around to see that face that had been haunting his mind for the past two days. He sat comfortably on a wooden bench, and Lance wasn’t sure if he was being presumptuous but it seemed identical to the one he sat on when the two first met.

“You!" Lance seethed, stomping over to the old man who carelessly held his cane and gazed over the enchanting landscape.

"Take a seat son, why don't you enjoy the view?" He hummed, patting the bench beside him. Lance sighed, figuring he had nothing to lose, and plopped himself down beside the old man. "It’s likely you won't get to see a view like this ever again in this life."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Lance asked, nervously leaning a bit away from the old man. He only laughed softly.

"I mean what I said. This view is unlike any other. It's truly a once in a lifetime opportunity." He shot a smug look over at Lance. "Though I suppose that doesn’t apply to you anymore. You’ve dodged the whole “once in a lifetime” thing, haven’t you?

Lance scowled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared into the endless distance. "Yeah, all thanks to you."

The old man smiled, clearly being quite proud of this accomplishment. "Ah yes, I suppose I am to thank for this."

Lance groaned, turning to face the old man. "Why did you bring me here if you were just going to ramble on about nothing?"

"Weren't we just discussing the view?"

Lance gave up, exasperatedly turning away from the old man. The old man let out a chuckle before bending over and picking a flower. "Life is fragile, you know. Even the slightest change can alter the entire course of the universe." He held the flower up the Lance who only stared in confusion. "Take this flower, for instance. I could have left this flower, left it for someone else to pick. But I decided to pick it. I may choose to put it in a vase. I may choose to press it and preserve it. Or I may choose to give it away. There are endless possibilities for what I could do. And depending on which I do choose to do, my future adjusts appropriately."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Lance asked.

The old man released the flower and no sooner after did a gust of wind appear, lifting the flower and carrying it off into the distance until it was nothing more than a speck in the endless distance. "In your life each and every little choice you make leads to your future.."

"Right..." Lance droned.

“And the decisions you made lead to a future I think we can both agree you found… unsatisfactory.”

Lance scoffed, “that’s putting it lightly.”

"So I granted you the opportunity to try again in life, find yourself. By changing your actions now you may be able to give yourself a future more to your liking."

"Why me?"

The old man looked over at Lance. He then hummed and turned away with a troubled expression as if he were really contemplating his next answer. Finally he turned back to Lance, flashing a careless grin before saying, "Why do you think I chose you?" Lance wanted to explode.

"Who are you? God?" Lance asked, earning a hearty laugh.

"Goodness no, I'm just a bored old man who likes to get involved in other people’s business."

Lance sighed, he gave up on trying to decipher any of this old man's riddles. Though when he really thought the situation through he figured that he really ought to be grateful rather than be complaining. There are plenty of people who would kill for a second chance like this. But Lance still found ways to complain.

"You could have given me more time..." Lance muttered.

"For what?" The man inquired.

"Well I only have about a month to try to stop whatever's going to happen to Keith! You could have given more time to figure out a plan, you should have picked Shiro or Hunk, they’re much better people than me."

"You don't have to stop anything."

"What d’you mean?" Lance quickly looked over to the old man. "Is that not the whole reason I'm here?"

The old man shook his head. "The only reason you're here is because I wanted you to. However everything else that happens is entirely your choice. It's your job to shape your future, I've just reset it." The old man slowly rose to his feet, muttering under his breath about his aching joints. Once he got to his feet, cane in hand, he turned to Lance. "You are here to find yourself, not to stop anything else."

Lance sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "It's not like I've got a choice. I mean I do but... how could I just abandon him like that?"

The old man smiled almost affectionately at Lance, as if he were looking at his own grandchild. “And that’s why I chose you Lance. Not Hunk or Shiro." He lifted his cane and pressed the end of it against Lance’s chest, Lance watching in silent confusion. “You have a great heart Lance, even if you don’t realise it. Give yourself the future you deserve.”

With that, the old man walked behind the bench and out of Lance's sight. Lance didn't bother turning to see where the old man would go, he already knew that by the time Lance would have turned around there would be no sight of the weird old man. So Lance continued to stare into space, taking in the scenery he would apparently never see again. Lance took this opportunity to think of a plan. It wasn’t an amazing plan, nor was it very detailed, but Lance just felt secure knowing he had some sort of plan - somewhere to start. The rest he could make up on the way, it's what Lance did best.

So when he was ready Lance braced himself, a solid pinch being all he needed to jump him awake the next morning. And as he washed his face in the bathroom he gave his reflection a sharp nod.

This time it would be different. This time he’s prepared. This time Lance would start to shape his future - a future where Keith Kogan will live.

Chapter Text

April 14th, Thursday

27 days

"You wanna get closer to Keith?" 

Lance puckered his lips, swaying back and forward as he glanced around Shiro at the vacant hallway again. He figured that his best bet in beginning his investigation into Keith would be to acquire the help of the only person Lance has ever seen Keith give his time to. Plus, Shiro is the type of person who puts his entire soul into what other people ask of him, no task is ever completed half-heartedly. That must be one of the reasons Keith actually gave Shiro the time of day; Shiro’s every action just screams how purely selfless he is. 

"Yeah..." Lance hummed, looking to the side nervously.

"So - just to get this clear - are you trying to just get close to Keith? Or do you want to get close to Keith?” Shiro emphasised sending Lance into a hot panic.

Lance’s face dropped and a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. “No, no, no, it’s nothing like that! I just want to get to know him a little better.” 

“Lance! Don’t worry, I’m not going to judge you if you are interested in Keith. And - obviously - I’m not going to judge you if you’re not.” Shiro smiled reassuringly at Lance, a smile similar to his big brother Luis’. He felt himself immediately calming down. “Of course, I’d be in no place to judge you.” Shiro added, and Lance could have sworn there was a quiver of nerves in his own voice. 

“What do you mean?” Lance’s eyes met with Shiro’s as he asked. 

“Well, this is something I haven’t told most people, but I trust you Lance. And I think that this might help both of us steer ourselves in the right direction.” Shiro’s wandering eyes returned to Lance’s with a sheepish look to them. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, not at all.” Lance shook his head keenly. The amount of times in his life Lance had rambled to Shiro outweighed the other way a hundred times over. Lance was more than happy to be the listener between the two for once. 

“Well the point of the speech is that if you are interested in Keith that way I would be more than understanding. In more than one way. Because…” Shiro puffed out a sharp breath, steeling himself.

Lance, seeing Shiro weighed down by so much pressure, snorted out, “you don’t have a crush on Keith, do you?” 

Lance was relieved that his joke wasn’t completely inappropriate, watching the worried frown on Shiro’s face soften, brow smoothing out to welcome a small smile and an affectionate gaze. “No, you don’t have to worry about that.” 

“Worry? I-” 

“I’m gay.”

“Wait,” Lance’s head felt so light it could float from his shoulders, “you’re completely gay? You don’t like girls, like… at all?” Lance blurted, unable to contain his shock. 

Shiro laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he replied. “No, just guys for me.”

Lance was frozen to his spot, fingertips tingling and numb. Something like this should be of no surprise for someone from the future. But this was very new to Lance. Lance thought his knowledge on the future was endless, he figured the only surprise he was going to receive was how Keith died. But now? Lance couldn’t control his expression of pure horror as the truth wrapped its slimy fingers around his throat and squeezed the air from him. Lance had to take a moment to train his breath and calm himself. 

Isn’t Shiro quite happily married to a woman? Well, not so happy apparently.  

Shiro got married fresh out of college to a cadet from his class, most people not surprised by the match. Shiro was class president, clean and well kept, while his wife was an equally neat genius, not to mention beautiful, funny, kind - who couldn't love her? When Shiro got married it caused a lot of bitterness between Matt and Shiro. At first Lance assumed it was because it was due to some love triangle or some other similar scandal, but now after this sudden discovery, the real reason came to light. 

Lance thought to himself, he had already changed two variables in the future. He's talked to Keith (while maybe giving himself a concussion) and he's given Rachel the honour of getting a math tutor. It probably wouldn't hurt to assist Shiro in his love struggles while he helps Keith, would it? The mysterious old man said it was his choice.

Shiro patiently observed Lance’s internal debate for a minute before reaching a brotherly arm out and squeezing Lance’s shoulder. "What I mean to say is there's no need to pretend you're someone you're not. Especially not in front of me. And I can keep it a secret if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

Lance almost felt himself jump out of his own skin. "No no no, wait a minute, I'm not gay. I like girls..."

Shiro nodded slowly, "so you... like both?"

Lance looked up at Shiro who smiled encouragingly at him and he almost swooned. This was not the conversation he came here for. “I uh… I don't like Keith like that.” 

Shiro let out a puff of laughter and clapped Lance on the shoulder. “Loosen up Lance, I’m not interrogating you. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m not uncomfortable! I’m very comfortable with you!” The surprise in Shiro’s expression was enough for Lance to leap back from Shiro’s touch and frantically swish his hands around as if swatting a swarm of bees. “In a completely friendly way, or course! Not in a- in a romantic way or anything.” 

Shiro smiled, pulling Lance into an abrupt yet welcome hug. Shiro was bigger than Lance, in terms of both height and width. The hug practically engulfed Lance and it was incredibly comfortable. Lance immediately felt the meaningless words he was about to blurt out dissipate within Shiro’s arms.

“Don’t worry Lance. Tell me everything when you’re ready. Or don’t, I’ll be here for you either way.” 

Shiro seemed to know exactly what Lance needed at any given time, giving him a firm pat on the back as if to jumpstart him back to life before steering him down the corridor. The two made their way into the cafeteria, grabbing some lunch and sitting at Lance’s usual table together. 

"So, Lance…" Shiro began, slowly peeling an orange. "Why the sudden interest in Keith?" 

Lance hummed to himself, breaking out in a cold sweat as he thought. " Why ?" He repeated.

"Yeah." Shiro gave him an encouraging smile. 

"Right... why..." Lance tapped his foot under the table. 

"Well I suppose you don’t always need a reason to want to get to know someone…” Shiro mumbled. 

The way Shiro phrased that sentence didn’t sit right with Lance, the need to defend himself clawing its way up Lance’s throat before spilling from his mouth in a hurry of words. “Well it’s sort of a New Year’s resolution. Tie up all of my loose ends and stuff.” 

Shiro smirked, “In April?” 

Lance shrugged. “You know me. Always procrastinating.” 

“That you are.” Shiro laughed. 

“And what about you?” Lance asked, happy to avoid the previous question. Shiro perked up at the new topic. “I mean, do you have someone you’re interested in?” 

Shiro suddenly began to laugh quietly, however his face was struck with pure embarrassment. Lance couldn’t help but crack up at the foreign reaction on Shiro’s usually calm and collected face. 

“That's a yes.”

Shiro shook his head and his fingers worked to unpeel an orange. Lance remembers his mother soldering him when he was a child for eating too many oranges, telling him his skin would turn orange. Lance didn’t eat an orange for years. “I don’t think it’ll go anywhere. I don’t think he’s interested in me.” Shiro admitted, popping an orange slice into his mouth. 

“Do I know him?” Lance asked. 

“Probably, he’s uh,” Shiro lowered his voice so it barely registered above a whisper, “he’s in the student council.” Shiro muttered. 

“Wait, it’s not that guy that’s always asking you to meet him at lunch, is it?” Lance whisper-yelled across the table. 

Shiro’s cheeks began to heat up as he straightened his back and continued to eat his face with a strangely stoic face. It was like looking at one of the Easter Island statues holding in laughter. “Curtis.” 

Lance scoffed. “Dude, he’s asking you out on lunch dates every day . He’s interested in you.” 

“Not dates, we’re both on the council.” Shiro corrected him with a matter-of-fact tone, orange slice tucked into his cheek. “ Of course we have to do work during lunch sometimes.” Shiro argued, the slice of orange consumed in the process.

“ Right , and what did he need help with yesterday?” Lance hummed, leaning his chin on his hand with a sly smirk. 

“He didn’t know how many sheets he needed to print for Professor Oldman.” Shiro immediately defended himself with a face so proud you would almost believe the innocence and earnestness he tried to convey. 

“Couldn’t you just tell him over text?”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to be sure.” 

“Sure, that’s reasonable.” Lance teased and for once Shiro was the awkward one. 

Quick to fight back, Shiro pointed an accusing finger at the boy across from him. “Hey, you’re no love doctor. Don’t forget whatever you tried with Allura.” Lance scoffed and kicked Shiro’s foot under the table, Shiro letting out a surprised yelp. Lance would have been offended if he didn't already know how bad his own flirting skills could be. Though he thought he had some good lines...

"Did I hear my name?" 

Oh no... One of two people Lance wouldn't want to be present for this conversation appeared just in time, taking a seat beside Lance. 

"What're you two talking about?' Allura dropped down to sit at the lunch table with the other two, eyes shining and smile bright. 

Lance could feel the heat rising to his cheeks once again, Shiro’s face lighting up with a pleasant warmth. "Nothing much, just having a… casual conversation."

Allura looked suspiciously between the two before turning to her food. Her eyes still jumped between the two others at the table.

"How was your test earlier, Allura? You were pretty stressed about it." Shiro asked, always reliable when you want to weasel out of an awkward scenario. Lance mentally thanked Shiro, promising that one day he would repay him for the countless times he's helped him. 

"Oh you know... I never really understood those weird equations, no matter how many times Coran sat me down and explained." She then cast a puzzled look at Lance, frowning and leaning down to try to meet his eyes. "Lance, are you okay? You don't seem like yourself lately." 

To be fair, usually when Lance came across Allura he would greet her with something along the lines of "Hello there princess" or "Oh hey Allura, I haven't seen you since my dreams last night" or something else that is now in hindsight very much humiliating. 

"I'm fine, just I've had a lot on my plate lately..." Lance muttered, scratching his chin nervously. 

"How so?" She pressed, visibly concerned yet she couldn’t hide the glint of intrigue in her bright eyes. Lance had gotten so used to spotting it. She was always like this, always wanting to know every detail, every little secret. And she always got the answers, nobody could escape her sneaky investigations. 

Lance let out a nervous laugh, rubbing his neck as he returned to his new and awfully convenient excuse. “Well my hamster died for one…’

Allura frowned. “I’m so sorry Lance, I didn’t even know you had a hamster.” She reached out and placed a hand on his upper arm, offering a sympathetic smile. “If you’re ever missing the company of a little furry creature, you can always come visit the mice.” The mice of course refer to Allura’s four pet rodents. When she wasn’t divulging in the latest gossip, Allura was gushing about and showing off the latest photoshoot she had done with them. They were always weirdly cooperative. “Oh! Speaking of the mice, I got them little straw hats! Of course we had to have a little show yesterday, let me show you!” 

However, as if the universe was in a loving mood today, Hunk and Pidge arrived just in time to distract Allura. They were rambling on about their sandwich building robot once again. As Allura chimed in to Pidge and Hunk’s conversation Lance just so happened to notice a familiar figure making his way into the lunch room. Spotting Lance’s sudden concentration, Shiro turned to follow his eyes and - Lance had no idea how he had never noticed this before - almost imploded on himself at the sight. Shiro’s body seemed to tense and melt at the same time and he was clearly doing everything in his power to look at anything but Curtis.

Lance almost had to swallow a sob as he suddenly felt his chest swell with a bittersweet melancholy as he wondered what was stopping Shiro from pursuing such simple happiness.  Lance covertly tapped Shiro’s foot with his own and upon meeting eyes with the other boy sent him a smile that he hoped wasn’t as depressed as Lance’s heart felt. Shiro smiled back, his smile full of confidence and undeniable relief. Relief to have gotten his secret off his chest to just one person. 

Lance attempted a steady breath but it came out choked and ugly. His heart ached in a strange way at the thought of Shiro forcing himself into a life he wasn’t comfortable with, marrying a woman he doesn’t love because he was too afraid to take a chance on his own feelings. Lance wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life in peace knowing his role model was lying to himself and everyone around him. 

"What’s wrong?"

Lance flinched, his head snapping to face Allura as her eyes danced between Lance and Shiro. "What?" Lance asked, unable to keep a cool and guiltless facade like Shiro could. Lance was sure Shiro was cursing him silently.

“You two were looking…” Allura’s lips pulled down into a calculating frown. 

"No, it was no-one, just someone from the student council." Shiro shrugged, attempting to brush away the conversation. However, unfortunately for him, Shiro just so happened to misinterpret Allura’s incomplete sentence. Even Lance figured that Allura hadn’t caught Shiro’s ogling.   

“You were looking at someone?” Allura’s lips immediately cracked into a grin, and Shiro’s breath audibly hitched in his throat as he caught his own mistake.

"Who?" Pidge’s eyes lit up, grabbing onto Shiro's arm and shaking it in an excited frenzy, eyes darting around the room to try to spot the cause of Shiro's shifted attention. 

"Shiro, you don't have your eye on someone in the school, do you?" Allura hummed, her eyes shining with even more mischief than they were before, joining Pidge in her interrogation. 

Lance broke into a sweat, gritting his teeth as he debated what to do. The last thing he wanted was to be the cause for Shiro’s untimely exposure. “Oh, well you guys, sometimes you just zone out and end up staring at someone without thinking. Me and Shiro just happened to be looking in the same direction!” Lance forced a laugh that did not convince the others in the slightest. 

"Yeah, it's nothing like that, really.” Shiro insisted, his usual calm demeanour gradually melting away into a flustered panic. 

“I mean, me and Shiro were just talking about him earlier, and then he just so happened to walk in, but it doesn't mean anything like that ." Lance said, shrugging off the panic.

"Him?" Allura mumbled, fading from the conversation to try to process the information that was just thrown in her face. 

Now Shiro broke out into a nervous sweat, unable to stop his eyes from flicking over to Lance in an expression Lance could only imagine was as a result of Shiro using every muscle in his body to not punch Lance. 

“Y-yeah but it’s not like that. Shiro doesn’t like him like that, right Shiro?” Lance scrambled to correct himself. Shiro looked helplessly back at Lance, mouth open but not making sound.

"Like who?” Hunk whispered, spinning to Lance. 

"I..." Lance trailed off, his eyes landing on Shiro who sat defeatedly. At this time, rare as it was, Lance began to actually contemplate his next move. He figured if every move he made would change the future he should contemplate such big decisions when they came, even though his time now was quite limited. He knows that if nothing is done there's a good chance he'll end up in a not-so-happy marriage. The last thing Lance would want to do is to do something that would make Shiro in any way unhappy right now, but isn't one unhappy moment now better than an entire life of regret?

“Sorry people, sorry for being late. I’m sure you guys were missing every moment I was gone!” Announcing his arrival was none other than Matt, who took a seat beside Shiro and stole his customary chip from his friend’s plate. “What’d I miss?” 

The table was silent, Lance and Shiro in a silent panic while the others bit their tongue out of respect for the victim of the conversation. 

“Whoof, well I missed something .” Matt added, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around the table, an awkward grimace growing on his face.

And so Lance's decision was made. "Shiro don't you think..." Lance whispered, leaning forward and speaking low enough that he’d like to believe nobody else would hear even though they clearly could. “Don’t you think it’d be better to get something like this off your chest?” 

Matt’s smile fell and, turning to face the silent Shiro, spoke lowly. “Is this what I think it’s about?” 

“I mean, it felt good to tell me didn’t it? Imagine how you’d feel if the whole group knew.”

Shiro nodded. Matt’s eyes bore so deeply into the side of his best friend’s head that Lance was sure it would begin to burn. After a few moments of silence Shiro let out a long sigh and, with anxiety clear in his voice, he spoke quietly. 

“I have… feelings for someone in our grade.” Shiro confessed, his anxiety spreading to Lance.

“Who?” Allura asked, trying her best not to seem too eager but ultimately her unsettlingly wide eyes and white-knuckled fists atop the table gave her away. Shiro pointed silently over to a nearby table. Everyone at the table’s heads inclined in an instant, staring like a pack of meerkats. Curtis was immediately recognised seeing as he was the only guy at the table at that time, everyone cooing and letting out their own sounds of approval.

"The one eating sushi? Neat, Shiro, you like sushi! You've got so much in common." Hunk gushed, unable to contain his joy. 

"He's on the council isn’t he? I think I recognise him..." Allura didn't finish, looking at Shiro as if she were waiting for Shiro to confirm her thoughts. 

Shiro sighed defeatedly. "Curtis. His name is Curtis." 

There was a wave of “aah”s and “ohh”s around the table. It was a pretty big deal, Shiro had never shared any of his crushes or secret admiration of anyone, especially not guy related. And while the decision itself may have been one of the most difficult and consequential Lance had ever made in his life, the result definitely seemed like it was the right decision.

Pidge suffocated Shiro in countless questions about this newly discovered news. Things like "how long have you liked him", "does he like you too'" and "Matt, why didn't you tell me sooner". 

Allura had dove across the table, cutting Lance off as she held Shiro’s hands in her own. Her eyes were misty and bright with excitement as she beamed. “This will be so fun! And you know we will always support you, Shiro! I can get gossip from Romelle in his class and see if he’s seeing anyone!”  

Lance's stomach knotted at the sight of Shiro's expression, holding his breath in the hopes that it would contain the embarrassing noises that forced their way from Lance’s lungs. He had no idea why he was so emotional all of a sudden, maybe it was because he was going through puberty again, but the thought of Shiro forcing himself into an unhappy marriage to live by societal norms made Lance want to burst into tears. The thought of Shiro, his idol and one of his closest friends, spending the rest of his life like that?

"You gotta make a move Shiro!" Lance announced, his fist slamming onto the tabletop so abrupt that it made Allura jump back into her seat. 

"Yes! Exactly, Lance is right!" Allura cheered, her bubbly self thriving in the face of a match-making opportunity. 

"It appears we have some work on our hands..." Pidge adjusted the glasses on her nose with a joker-like grin.

"It'll be a dangerous mission, but it must be done." Hunk announced, extending his arm into the middle of the table with determination. 

"It’s a pleasure serving with you men." Allura added, placing her pristinely manicured hand over Hunk’s, soon followed by Pidge.

Lance felt his heart flutter with excitement, leaning over to slap his hand on top of Pidge’s. “Loverboy Lance to the rescue!” 

Everyone’s eyes drifted to Shiro and Matt who sat silently at the end of the bench. Matt had been almost completely silent since his arrival, turning to look at Shiro with an unsure frown. “Are you… Do you want this?” Matt spoke, fidgeting fingers on the tabletop. 

Shiro looked back at Matt, expression complicated but his relief was evident. A sheepish smile crept its way onto Shiro’s lips before he reached out and added his own hand to the pile. Matt took a deep breath before nodding sharply, determined. “Then I want it too.” Matt added his hand to the pile.

Pidge and Allura immediately began to discuss plans for their new project, excitedly laying out possible ploys. Their chat didn't get to last very long before the lunch bell chimed and they were unwillingly pulled away from their talk to get ready for class. Lance was a lot less unhappy to finish lunch, hopping up from his seat and saying a quick goodbye to the others before hurrying out of the cafeteria. 

As much as Lance enjoyed lunch, and thoroughly enjoyed helping Shiro jump such a significant hurdle in his life, Lance couldn’t stop his mind drifting throughout the hour. He couldn’t help but wonder what Keith was doing. Was he in the homeroom? Lance didn’t see him come into the cafeteria. Did he eat at all? As Lance was swapping books at his locker Shiro approached him once again. He quickly greeted Lance, placing a hand on Lance's shoulder and flashing him a soft smile that could melt any heart. Lance thought that surely Curtis couldn’t resist Shiro’s charm. Lance swooned even when Shiro lectured him, if Shiro actually flirted with him Lance knew he would become a puddle on the floor. Curtis stood no chance. 

“Thanks for that. I really needed it.” Shiro spoke quietly to Lance with a smile that made his heart soar. 

“I just want you to be happy, Shiro.” Lance replied, Shiro taken aback for a moment, but his big-brotherly smile returned instantaneously.

"And about Keith,” Shiro began, “just be yourself. Really. Oh- and try not to get too upset when Keith's being kinda… moody. He's just got a lot of emotions and doesn’t really know how to deal with them." Shiro reassured Lance, a smile glowing with sincerity on his lips. “He's a great guy, it just takes a while to understand him. And he could really use someone like you in his life, Lance." Lance could feel his chest swell with pride at the sincere statement. 

“Someone like me?” Lance repeated. 

Shiro nodded and Lance wished he could record the moment and rewatch it whenever he wanted. “A beacon of joy.”

Lance hadn't really seen Shiro since they graduated and although he didn't get to show it often, he really admired Shiro. He couldn't help but overflow with joy as they exchanged simple conversation, let alone when Shiro praised him and called him a beacon of joy . As they made their way towards their classroom Shiro paused their conversation, averting his gaze to someone behind Lance's head. 

"Hey Keith, you wanna walk with us?" Shiro called, Lance spinning around to look at Keith just as Keith looked at him. Lance felt his stomach clench in what felt like nerves as they both met eyes. Neither of them had spoken since the previous day in the nurse’s office, and every time Lance saw Keith walking around alive and well he felt like he was being his with a fresh wave of incomprehensible emotions. Lance searched Keith’s eyes for any hint that something was different between them, but Keith’s eyes quickly grew cold and a scowl painted his face. 

"You two go ahead." Keith muttered before slamming his locker shut and stomping in the other direction. This only added a new layer of unease to Lance's emotions. Shiro was left gawking in surprise at Keith's sudden outburst, shooting a sympathetic look in Lance's direction. 

"Look Lance, he's probably just had a bad day. Like I said, don't worry about it too much." Shiro patted his shoulder, though Lance was only watching Keith's figure make its way down the hall. 

"Sorry Shiro, I gotta go. Uh, tell Professor Montgomery I'll be a bit late to class. I gotta go… do something..." Lance said, eyes eventually tearing themselves from Keith and turning to Shiro as he finished talking. 

Shiro’s face settled into a smile. "Alright, but I'll come up with a better excuse for you." He teased, patting Lance on the back before turning on his heel and continuing to class. 

With a quick nod at Shiro, Lance spun around and hurried after Keith. He tried not to run, he didn't want to seem desperate, but it only resulted in Lance travelling down the hall in a strange looking power-walk. Keith hadn't made it very far, only making it up a few flights of stairs before Lance spotted him.

"Keith!" Lance called out, taking the stairs the two steps at a time. Keith seemed to hear as he began to pick up his own pace as he climbed. Lance scoffed, quickly gaining on Keith thanks to his longer legs and the blessed teenage agility that Lance continued to marvel at. "Keith, I know you can hear me!" 

The halls had almost emptied, most people already in class, so Lance's yelling was all the more obvious. Keith cringed at how loud Lance was being, immediately spinning around and beginning to stomp back down the steps. Of course Lance wasn't expecting Keith to just turn around like that and continued to take bounds up the steps. Just as Lance spun to set off up the final flight he came nose to nose with Keith, letting out an ugly yelp as he dug his heels into the ground to prevent yet another collision. 

"Oh- Keith.'' Lance choked between deep breaths, fighting not to keel over as he gathered his breath. Running up four floors was not for the faint of heart. Keith watched Lance expectantly, eyes sharpened into a glare and arms crossed over his chest. Lance noticed as he straightened up that Keith was slightly taller than him. That’s not right… He glanced down and saw that Keith was standing on a step. Keith caught Lance’s stolen glance and his frown deepened, stepping around Lance and attempting to go back down. Lance sidestepped to cut Keith off, the two standing silently at the intersection between two flights of stairs. One up to the roof, the other back to class. Keith watched Lance wearily, expectantly. Lance watched Keith curiously. 

Keith couldn't wait any longer, letting out a frustrated scoff before turning to continue up the stairs. Lance could feel words pushing against his throat, fighting to get out. “We have class now, you know.”

Keith spun around again and glared at Lance. “No Lance, that seemed to slip my mind.” 

“Why are you going to the roof?” Lance continued, taking a slow step towards Keith. 

“Why are you chasing me?” Keith argued back, stepping backwards as though if he were to turn away Lance would attack him. 

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but found that he didn’t actually know what to say. He really didn’t know why he followed Keith either, but seeing him walk away like that made Lance spring into action before a thought could form. Keith scoffed and went to turn around again.

“I’m sorry I acted like that." 

Keith froze, eyes snapping to watch Lance cautiously as if it were a trap. "Like what?" 

"Like- well I don't really know but you clearly didn’t like it. You totally snapped at Shiro back there, and he was just trying to be nice." 

Keith scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sorry, did I ruin the atmosphere for you two?" 

Lance gaped, "What? No, what're you talking about?"

Keith shuffled back, edging up a stair but not fully committing to his movement. "The two of you seemed pretty cosy today. Hugging in the corridor before lunch, giving each other looks during lunch and then… then after lunch too..." Keith trailed off, his ears beginning to glow a light shade of pink. 

And all Lance could gather from that was, “So you were at lunch. I didn’t see you." 

“That’s all you have to say? You’re not denying it?” Keith spat, and Lance hoped that no teacher was walking by to hear. 

"There’s nothing happening between me and Shiro, he likes someone else!" Lance scoffed in frustration, face dropping as he took in Keith’s reaction, eyes widening and scowl dropping into a frown. 

Lance had no time to think of what else to say before Keith marched around Lance and practically ran down the stairs. Lance didn't run after Keith this time, watching in wordless confusion at Keith’s disappearing figure, head lowered and hands shoved into his pockets as he stomped away.

Chapter Text

April 15th, Friday 

26 days

Friday morning Lance spotted Keith at the vending machine, hurrying over while the other boy pushed some coins through the slot. Lancee dove in, pressing the button on the machine before Keith had the chance before graciously reaching down to retrieve the product and placing it in Keith's hand with a princely flourish.

"Your order, sir." Lance announced.

Keith only scowled.

"You... didn't want the milk?" Lance asked, glancing back to the buttons. 

"No, I wanted the muffin." Keith spoke through his teeth. 

Lance began to shuffle away nervously. "Well… it never hurts to try something new?"

That encounter resulted in Lance darting away with a yelp, just barely dodging the milk carton that shot in his direction, it instead bursting against a pillar in the cafeteria. He was about to turn back to Keith and jeer at him for missing but not a second later he slipped on the newly formed milk puddle and tumbled to the floor.

"I'M LACTOSE INTOLERANT!" 

Before class, Lance tried to greet Keith at his locker. Keith in response hurried away without any books. He was later scolded by the teacher and sent to get his books in the middle of class, but it was clear that he wasn’t unhappy with this outcome. Keith and Lance met eyes as Keith reentered the classroom, this time with his books in hand. 

Lance gave him a glare as if to ask, ‘was that worth it?’

Keith gave Lance a challenging nod as if to say ‘absolutely.’ 

Any time Lance finally did manage to pin Keith down to say something, Keith would either answer lazily with one-worded sentences or act as if he had somewhere to go. Lance would flock to Shiro, who would shower Lance in encouragement.

"It's okay Lance, he's just a bit shy! He's just trying to get used to the new situation!" Shiro would say, patting Lance's back as he sulked in the corner. 

"You sound like I just adopted a new cat..." 

After this lunch’s failed attempt Lance found himself sitting behind Keith and simply glaring at him. Maybe Keith would be able to feel the ferocity of Lance’s gaze and turn around. Maybe not. Either way, Lance got a sliver of satisfaction from doing it. If Keith would just stop being so evasive this would all be so much easier.

"Hey Keith, you should come over to my place after school." 

Lance gaped as he watched Pidge lean to her left with a wide grin, eyes burning into Keith's. Keith sat frozen for a second, struggling to find a reply to Pidge's sudden invitation, suspicion clearly swimming in his gaze.

"Right, we were planning on going to Pidge's to play this new video game she got." Hunk added, leaning forward from his own seat. 

"It's not just any game! It's the new Killbot Phantasm I: Journey to the Depths of the Demonsphere !" Pidge retaliated, whipping out her phone to reveal a photo of the game's cover art. 

“Did you already have that picture pulled up?” Lance scoffed and was completely ignored. 

”Shiro and Matt will be there too.” Pidge added, hoping that would urge Keith to accept. 

"He’s not gonna go." Lance muttered, narrowing his eyes accusingly at his two friends who continue to ignore him. 

"I'll go." Keith said shortly. 

"You will?" Lance asked. 

"Great!" Pidge chirped back, buzzing with excitement as a grin split across her cheeks. 

"Just like that?" Lance continued, words dissipating in the air.

"So… when're you guys having this... killer robot… get together?" Keith asked. 

" Killbot Phantasm I: Journey to the Depths of the Demonsphere. " Pidge corrected. 

“Right…” Keith murmured.

“And we’re doing it today.” Hunk chimed in.

"Today?!" Lance hollered. This time he was not ignored. 

Hunk raised a brow at Lance. "Yeah man, we've been planning this for weeks. How could you forget?"

Lance sighed, slumping back in his seat and crossing his arms in defeat. "Sorry, I just traveled back in time ten years so I'm trying to catch up." 

"You know, from the way you’ve been acting lately I wouldn’t be surprised if you actually were a time traveller." Pidge puckered her lips with narrowed eyes, Hunk nodding along with a chuckle. 

"Right?" Lance replied, his lips lifting into a painfully fake smile, his eyes threatening to show how much he was suffering on the inside.

"I am gonna ask Shiro if he’s coming too though, I don't trust you guys." Keith muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

Hunk's eyes lit up as Keith's lock screen appeared, immediately scooting his chair closer to Keith as he gasped. "Aww man, is that your dog?" He asked, catching the attention of Pidge who quickly stretched over to have a look. 

"Let me see!" Pidge gawked. 

"Yeah, his name's Kosmo. I've had him since he was a pup. Found him in the woods." Keith replied. 

Hunk's face suddenly became stoic like an Easter Island statue. "I love him. I must meet him." 

"I would travel the seven seas to give that beautiful creature a pat on the belly." Pidge added with a serious nod. 

Keith shot Pidge an amused look, but his lips still remained in a frozen deadpan. "I could just bring him out to meet you guys some day." 

"Yes please!" Hunk cheered. 

Lance's eyes narrowed as he edged forward again, lifting out of his chair and leaning his head over Keith's left shoulder before shooting Pidge a suspicious look. "Why are you three suddenly so friendly?" Lance’s breath hit the side of Keith's neck, his skin prickling with goosebumps.

Pidge scoffed, “Wasn’t it you the other day say you wanted to-” 

“Whatever you’re about to say, that was said to you in confidence!" Lance squawked, clapping his hands over Keith’s ears in a panic. Keith quickly swatted Lance’s hands away, turning to shoot a dark scowl in his direction. Before Lance could awkwardly force out an apology, Professor Montgomery marched inside and commanded everyone to take their seats. 

"Why do I even try." Lance sighed, shrinking into his seat with a sour expression. 

Lance couldn't keep his hands still as he and the others made their way to Pidge's place after school. It wasn't a very long walk, it was closer to Pidge’s house than it was to Lance’s, yet it felt like it lasted for several lifetimes. The group had gotten together after their final class to begin the trip to the Holt household together. Matt, Pidge and Hunk walked in a line together up front, exchanging theories for the game, each one more strange than the previous. The line following was much more sombre, looking more similar to a trio attending a funeral than to a group of highschool students hanging out. Lance felt bad for Shiro, who was wedged between him and Lance, the air between them tense and awkward. However, despite these unfortunate circumstances for him, the entire walk he had a content smile on his face as he ever so often spared a glance at the boys on either side of him.

Eventually he spoke up, “I’m surprised you came along, Keith.”

Lance’s eyes flitted over to Shiro as he suddenly broke the silence. Keith shrugged as he slumped along. “Well I’ve never heard of this Killbot thing so… plus, Pidge said you were coming so I didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, you’ve never even heard of Killbot Phantasm ?” Lance scoffed, leaning forward to stare at Keith from Shiro’s other side. 

Keith’s eyes narrowed with a frown. “No?” 

Lance shot Keith a bewildered look, unable to stop the eruption that was coming. “ Killbot Phantasm is easily one of the most iconic games of the decade! It was the most anticipated fantasy rpg of its year! And you’re telling me you’ve never heard of it?”

Keith's face was flat and his voice monotone. “No.” 

Lance shot an untrusting look towards Keith. Never trust a guy who’s never heard of Killbot Phantasm.  

Shiro hummed in acknowledgement as they continued walking. “Well, it’s nice that you’re here.” Shiro said, glancing from Keith to Lance. “Lance thinks so too, I’m sure.” 

Lance’s heart stuttered at his sudden mention, his eyes flitting between Shiro’s encouraging smile and Keith’s suspicious glare. Why was Shiro suddenly calling Lance out like this? “What? Why would I-” Lance trailed off as his eyes strayed. “Whatever…” 

Keith scoffed at Lance’s reply and tucked his head into his shoulders. He wasn’t expecting much else from that interaction. Shiro sighed with a sheepish smile as they continued forward, eventually Pidge’s house coming into view. The entire walk was in complete silence apart from that short interaction and periodical questions from the chatty group up front.

Lance could feel his body relax as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the Holt’s house, immediately making his way to the livingroom and collapsing on the couch. Growing up, the Holt’s house was like his second home, well maybe third after Hunk’s. He wasted no time in getting comfortable, Hunk following soon after. Lance was always told how easily he made himself at home in other people’s houses, maybe too easily, but the Holts always welcomed him with open arms and insisted he was like a second son to them. 

“Mi casa is also your casa, Keith. Don't be so tense.” Matt teased Keith as he steered him into the livingroom by the shoulders and directed him to sit down beside Lance. Lance’s demeanour immediately shifted upon Keith’s arrival, jumping over to the opposite side of the chair and body becoming rigid. Hunk eyed Lance with a smirk at his sudden shift, Keith himself reflecting the exact same behaviour. 

As if an omen from above came to break the tension, a flash of white tumbled into the living room and bounced right towards Lance in a blurry ball of noise and energy. Lance’s face immediately lit up upon her arrival, his mouth splitting into one of the widest smiles he had shown since he arrived in the past as he threw his arms open. 

“Bae Bae!” Lance cried, wrapping his arms around the squirming bull terrier as she rolled around in Lance’s lap. “Oh I missed you so much!” 

Time travel just keeps getting better and better! 

Pidge ogled, letting out a bewildered snort at the performance Lance and Bae Bae were giving from the couch, the two of them acting like they hadn’t seen each other in years. Of course, that was the case for one of the two. “Wow, it’s been, like, five days since you saw her, Lance.”

“You couldn’t begin to fathom the bond between us.” Lance joked, watching with a fluttering heart as Bae Bae crawled over to Keith, her ears pinned back against her head in a gesture that Lance was told was her equivalent of a smile. Her tail whipped manically as she glided over to Keith, sliding onto her back and waiting expectantly.

Keith’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile as he reached out and gave Bae Bae the scratched she was expecting, her wagging tail creating a drum beat as it thumped against the couch. Lance didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he caught himself staring at Keith, only for Keith to look up to Lance and catch him in the act. Lance found his eyes stuck on Keith’s, unable to tear himself away. It was a strange sensation, wanting to look away but his brain completely failing him. How long had they been staring now? It couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. 

”Your attention, please!” Matt snapped, shooting a stern scowl at Lance as he marched towards the television, switching it on with a sombre expression. “This is no joke. This is a suicide mission, and I need everyone, and I mean everyone , to be on their a-game! I’m looking at you, Kogane.” He pointed at Keith who shot him a scowl.

Shiro sighed, taking a seat on the couch adjacent to the TV. “You know Matt, if you put this much effort into more productive things, your potential would know no limits.” 

Matt scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Shiro. Why would I waste my time on anything other than this?” 

”Plus,” Pidge added, sidling up beside Matt to fidget with a box in her arms, “this shall be no regular gaming experience. Because we have gotten our hands on…” Pidge spun around dramatically, presenting the mystery item she was rooting out of the box, shoving the bright coloured shape in Lance's face, eyes glowing with elation. “Blam! The Mercury Gameflux II, with the new power glove that gives you infinite lives if you touch the index finger to the pinky!” 

Lance tore his attention from Bae Bae to grin up at Pidge and the glove that she was now shoving in his face. Of course Lance had already seen this glove, he had already played this game and lived this day ten years ago. But that was ten years ago , and seeing this glove in mint condition was hitting him with such a strong wave of nostalgia that it was as if he was seeing it for the first time in his life. 

“No way!” Lance cried, shakily reaching his hands out at a snail's pace. He froze, looking to Pidge with a sombre expression. “May I?” He asks carefully, slowly extending his arm. Pidge bowed her head in allowance, slowly pushing the glove onto Lance’s hand. As it slipped on Lance’s face lit up in a grin. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Pidge sighed, admiring it as if it were her first born child. 

“Fits like a glove, wouldn’t you say?” Lance sniggered, earning a dismayed snort from Pidge. 

“It is a glove.” 

Lance sighed and craned his head to his left where Keith sat, brooding. Lance frowned. “Yes. Good spotting.” 

Keith’s brows were knitted together as he shot a look over at Lance, more confused than anything. “Then obviously it fits like a glove. It is a glove.” 

Lance’s jaw slacked in pure befuddlement, dropping his hand and the precious glove that was in it as he turned his body to face Keith. “You know the expression ‘fits like a glove’, right?” 

”Yeah, obviously.” 

Obviously…  

“But it is a glove, so it’s… it’s a joke.” Lance continued to conjure some explanation despite how much of a lost cause it clearly was.  

”But it is a glove. What did you expect?” Keith grumbled. 

Lance’s face fell. ”Nevermind.”

The rest of the evening was rather peaceful, actually. Lance enjoyed playing Kilbot Phantasm for the first time again, even if he remembered everything about the game. Every time they were stuck on the same section for a little too long Lance would offer an inconspicuous guiding word disguised as clueless curiosity and the playthrough would continue its smooth progress once more. The group rotated the controller every so often, only daring to let Shiro have one go after he pressed the wrong button and accidentally killed a peaceful villager. And even though everyone noticed Keith throwing a few too many glances in Lance’s direction (everyone except for Lance himself, of course), it was silently decided that it was best left uncommented on.

April 16th, Saturday 

26 days

Hunk arrives at Lance’s front door by noon the next day. Despite how long it's been since they had done this little routine, it was still engraved in Lance’s very bones to the point that even a decade later Lance was awake, dressed and anticipating his arrival. Lance was lying in the garden, the sun beating down at the perfect temperature. The ground wasn’t usually the most comfortable place to lay down, but the air was fresh and the grass was soft and he hadn’t done this in so long that Lance found himself gravitating towards it. 

With a simple “what’s up” Hunk settled down beside Lance, not needing to ask him why exactly he was lying on the grass to join him. Lance admired the moment for a few extra moments and suddenly felt the urge to tell Hunk how much he loved him. He wanted to jump into Hunk’s arms and burst into tears and thank him for putting up with him all this time. But Hunk would probably think Lance had gone mad, he had been acting strange enough lately. Instead he turned his head to look at Hunk, a rather solemn look on his face as he spoke lowly. 

“You know you're my best friend, right?” 

Hunk turned to look back at Lance, face first surprised before a perfect smile settled on his lips. “Of course, man. You’re mine too.” 

“Good.” Lance smiled, settling back into the grass and watching the few fluffy clouds drift past.  

Something about Lance and Hunk’s friendship that the two always appreciated was their ability to sit in silence and not need anything to fill it. At the same time, if either of them needed someone to talk to until their tongue fell out they knew they could come to each other. They had the perfect balance of tolerating each other no matter what that Lance considered himself infinitely lucky to have found. And yet, knowing they could and having spoken to each other about literally anything, neither of them were entirely sure to approach the topic that they both itched to discuss. 

Eventually, Hunk smacked his lips together. “So, Keith…” 

“Right…” Lance replied curtly and wasn’t exactly sure what else to say. 

“He’s pretty cool.” Hunk added cautiously. 

“I suppose.” Lance watched Hunk carefully from the corner of his eyes, watchung the sweat break out on his brown and the impatient twitching on his fingers splayed out on his chest. Lance could count down the seconds before, three… two… one…

“Oh come one, Lance!” Hunk jumped to sit up, turning over and staring down at Lance. “We tell each other everything but now you’re being all secretive! We’re never like this.” 

And now Lance felt guilty, closing his eyes and facing away from Hunk with a frown. “I know.” He muttered, and though he couldn’t see Hunk’s face he knew what expression was on his face. The same expression Hunk had every time Lance came home from yet another painfully terrible day at work and shut himself in his room, pitiful helplessness. 

Lance sat up, crossing his legs and leaning back against his arms lazily. The air was so fresh and clean, nothin like the sick and dirty air of the city he and Hunk had lived in the other future. “Honestly, I don’t really know what’s happening either.” 

Hunk watched Lance with a troubled expression to which Lance signed and turned to face Hunk. “I don’t know Hunk, I can’t say how exactly, I just woke up one day and I knew things had to change.” Lance hoped he could be honest but still phrase things enigmatically enough that Hunk could interpret it wrong. He couldn’t burden Hunk with the truth, the truth of what his future held. He especially couldn’t handle the shame of telling Hunk how he had thrown his career away to take care of Lance after everything went to the dumps in his life. Hunk was so young and ignorant and excited for the future, it only made Lance want to fix things more. 

“It’s just weird, Lance. One day you’re planning your next stupid prank against Keith - no offense.” Hunk paused to flash Lance a very much no sorry look. 

“None taken, they were stupid.” Lance shrugged and waved for Hunk to continue. 

“See? This is what I mean, last week you would have complained for hours if I called your plan stupid! Now you’re talking like you’re not even yourself!” Lance could see the emotion building up in Hunk as he spoke, eyes misting over and that telltale quiver threatening at his lips. 

“Oh, Hunk. Don’t cry, it’s really not that serious.” Lance began, reaching out to squeeze Hunk’s shoulder with an affectionate smile. Leave it to Hunk to cry over someone else’s feelings, ever the empath. 

“Did someone say something to you? Did someone say something that made you feel like you should act any different ? You know we love you Lance, even when you act stupid- especially when you ask stupid. You’re the reason I’m friends with most of the people I talk to, you know that? If you wanna take this new turn and become super mature all of a sudden that’s fine, but- but- I’ll miss the old Lance, and I-” 

“ Hunk! Hunk, please calm down!” Lance grabbed Hunk by the shoulders and physically shook him out of the thoughts he was spiralling through. “Don’t worry, it’s still the same me. I’m still Lance. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were so stressed over this.” Lance sighed, hands still on Hunk’s shoulders.

“You know you’ve barely hung out with me and Pidge. We’ve nearly finished our robot and you haven’t come over once to help out.” 

Lance frowned as a sudden weight appeared in his chest. “Well I wouldn’t have been much help anyway.” 

“You’ve never been any help, that’s not why we like having you there.” Hunk replied firmly and Lance almost wanted to cry. 

Instead of crying, Lance’s lips curled up into a sheepish smile as he leaned back, throwing a light punch against Hunk’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.” 

“Of course.” Hunk smiled back with blinding earnesty. “Plus, my skin’s felt really dry lately without your homemade face masks. I tried some dollar store masks but they’re not the same.” 

Lance gave an indignant gasp, “Hunk! You can’t use dollar store products on your skin! Are you asking for a breakout?”  

Hunk sighed, laying back into the grass once more. “Well I suppose you’re just gonna have to make an extra special batch next time to undo the damage.” 

Lance gave Hunk a goofy grin before promptly dropping back beside Hunk, lazily watching the clouds drift by. After that conversation Lance made a note to spend more time with Pidge and Hunk. It would definitely seem weird for his two best friends, with whom he was usually attached to by the hip, if he suddenly started sneaking around without them. Besides, he never got to hang out with the both of them at the same time after high school, how could he waste precious opportunities like these now?

Chapter Text

April 18th, Monday 

23 days

Monday morning Lance found himself silently observing an argument between Pidge and Hunk as to how they should complete the level they were stuck on in Kilbot Phantasm. That Sunday Lance found himself at Pidge’s door with a sorry frown and a tub of freshly mixed clay facemask, a recipe he would never forget no matter how many years had passed since he last made it. Pidge had initially put on an act of being aloof and angry, but after putting on the facemask and hearing the story of how Lance had used a fake hamster death to explain to Keith why he had randomly started to cry (Lance chocked that one up to puberty), everything had returned to normal. For Pidge at least, this was far from normal to Lance, but he found himself quickly getting used to the routine of being eighteen again. 

As for the argument, obviously Lance already knew. He remembered being stuck on that level for weeks before they found the hidden window they were supposed to climb through, but he figured if he kept telling them how to complete levels they would eventually grow suspicious. Whether they believed he had found some guide on how to complete or whether they believed he came from the future didn’t matter, he’d rather just avoid it altogether. 

“I’d like to take part in your next Kill Robot day!” Allura chimed in with a bright smile. “I may not look like it, but I’m quite good at video games!” 

That was far from the truth, last time they played a certain car racing game she placed last in every race except one, and that was only because Hunk’s remote had died in the middle of the race and he had to go find new batteries. Even so, it was a close one. 

The classroom door swung open once more, in walking Keith with a strange glow about him that wouldn’t be noticed by the naked eye. But that didn’t apply to Lance, he had been watching Keith like a hawk for the past week and was beginning to notice even the microscopic details. There was less of a crease between his brows and his lips were just a fraction higher than their usual scowl. Lance perked up at his arrival, catching the eyes of the others as they turned to see who had caught Lance’s attention. 

“Keith!” Pidge practically sang as she readjusted her position, having been straddling her seat as she often did. “We were discussing the next level in Kilbot Phantasm. I think we should blow up the door, there's definitely some explosives in one of the crates!” 

Hunk scoffed, “It would take hours to look through all those crates! I think we should put on one of the robo-soldiers’ uniforms and sneak through the main factory entrance.” 

Keith glanced between the two of them helplessly, clearly taken aback by the immediate ambush. This was probably the first time anyone besides Shiro or Matt had said more than a simple “hello” to him in the morning. He tripped over his own words before eventually spitting out a sentence. 

“Well uh- exploding the door makes sense.” Keith muttered as he slipped into his seat. 

Pidge revelled in her victory while Hunk crossed his arms and scoffed. “Of course Keith thinks we should blow things up, it’s Keith.” He muttered. 

Keith frowned and eyed Hunk wearily. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Hunk shrugged. “I mean, the only reason we don’t have any explosives anymore is because you kept blowing up everything you could. You can just open doors, man, you know that, right?.” Hunk’s voice lifted into a teasing tone towards the end, earning a giggle from Pidge. 

Keith scoffed, dropping his bag beside his table before crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s thanks to my explosives that we survived the tree gorgon attack on level six.” Keith announced proudly, earning a nod in agreement from Pidge and a confused frown from Allura. Lance simply sat back and enjoyed the debate. 

“Yes, that is true. However, you’re just letting all of our bombs off at one time, you have yet to master the timing of the explosive application.” Hunk spoke with the calm tone of a monk. 

Keith’s lip curled into a half-smile, nodding in defeat without another word. The group shared a round of bewildered gapes before everyone’s eyes turned back to Keith. 

“Did Keith just-” Allura began, only cut off by Lance himself. 

“Smile?!” 

“Wow. I said something so funny it made Keith smile.” Hunk’s hand rested over his heart as he turned his eyes to the sky. Lance could imagine a lone tear slowly rolling down his cheek. 

Keith scoffed and turned in his seat to glare at the others. “What do you mean? I smile all the time.” 

Pidge smirked, “I’m pretty sure this is the third time I’ve ever seen you smile. The other times were when you showed us your dog and that time when Lance got his head stuck in the school gate.” 

“It was a deceivingly small gap!” Lance interjected. 

Before Keith could get any other input the door was kicked open by an enthusiastic Coran who hopped up to the front of a class like an adrenaline injected bunny. Performing a small spin that would leave a prima ballerina envious, Coran took his spot at the top of the class and cleared his throat. “Good morning children!” Coran sang. “Though most of you are the big eighteen, so I suppose that term is pretty outdated…” 

Everyone adjusted themselves in their seat as Coran began to note absences. He then gilded around his desk to arrive at the blackboard, producing a stick of chalk before writing in huge, impressively beautiful cursive handwriting. 

Final Year Performance, May 12th 

A mixed reaction erupted around the classroom, a rhapsody of compiled groans of displeasure and gasps of elation. Lance himself found himself shrinking back in his seat, face draining of blood as he stared at those words. To Lance, the main connotation that appeared for him with those words was the following day and everything that came with it. Everything which Lance was planning to prevent. Not that he had done much planning, just thoughtless action after thoughtless action. Though, his thoughtless actions seemed to be going well considering Keith engaged in a conversation with Hunk and Pidge today. 

“Now, now, I heard those few groans! But the Final Year Performance has been a tradition at Lions’ Castle High for decades! And we shall not bring shame to our ancient school’s noble reputation!” Coron shook his clenched fist in the air with a concerning amount of determination. He placed the chalk on his desk once more before he clasped his hands together and grinning up to his students. “Any ideas for what our performance could be?” The room was silent for a few ticks before a few timid voices began to arise. 

“What about a talent show?” Shay chimed in, her hand timidly raised.

Hunk flashed her a warm grin. “Oh, that’s a good idea!” To this Shay’s eyes met with Hunk’s and she gave him a small, appreciative smile.

“But they did a talent show last year.” Pidge frowned. 

“Oh, right…” Shay shrank back. 

“What about a game show? Like Garfle Warfle Snick!” Ezor practically yelled, almost lifting out of her seat as her hand shot up, her dazzlingly coloured hair swishing almost hypnotically. Ezor really took advantage of there being no school rules against dying your hair. 

“Aren’t there too many people in the class to do a gameshow?” Nyma spoke from her seat at the back of the class. 

“I don’t know, it seems pretty fun.” Rolo argued with a shrug to which Nyma shot him a glare.

“Let’s have a masquerade ball!” Allura suggested, her eyes glowing simply at the prospect. 

“That would be a cool idea for your end of year formal, but this is a performance for the rest of the school.” Coran interjected matter-of-factly. Allura pouted. 

Of course, Lance was fully aware of what they would do in the end. His eyes strayed from the front of the class to sidle to his right where Lotor sat. He lounged back in is seat with his arms crossed, eyes lazily dancing around the room as people squabbled to come up with the winning suggestion. Lance could feel his eye involuntarily twitch at Lotor’s blatant arrogance and haught. Any minute now Lotor would raise his hand and announce his wonderful idea, to which everyone would fawn and praise him and he would revel. Such a miniscule detail for him to retain in the past decade, but Lance’s mind always found a way to get attached to such seemingly pointless things. 

Before Lance could further process what he was doing he found his hand shooting straight up in the air, any concerns for how his sudden change in actions could alter the future in ways he didn’t expect abruptly flying out the window and being swept away by the breeze. 

“We should do a play.” Lance spoke loudly over the constant hum of students debating. Everyone stopped their speaking to turn to Lance, a mixture of reactions erupting throughout the room. 

“We’re not allowed to do a play. Last time the school did a play we got fined for copyright issues.” Matt interjected. 

Lance glanced over to Lotor, whose face held poorly continued anger. Lance resisted the urge to smirk before turning to face Matt. “Well, what if we wrote our own play?” 

Lance wasn’t surprised to see the class’ reactions transform, suddenly the classroom bubbling with giggles as people threw back and forward various excited ideas for how their play could go. It was Lance’s turn to revel in the praise thrown his way, his cheeks burning and his ego skyrocketing. Of course it was a stolen idea, but how could Lance not enjoy the moment? He couldn’t remember the last time so much genuine praise was thrown his way.

“Wonderful idea Lance! It’ll require a lot of work, so all hands must be on deck!” Coran praised, snatching up the stick of chalk before quickly writing up Lance’s idea. 

“Why don’t we ask the other senior class if they want to join forces with us?”

All heads turned to the source of the voice, Lance’s head snapping so quickly that his head almost spun off. Lance’s eyes were narrowed and sharp as he glared over to none other than Lotor, who continued to hold his regal stance. 

“Don’t you think it’d be a bit too crowded ?” Lance fought with every muscle in his body to stop himself from spitting each word. This is not how it went before…

“Creating a play from scratch will take much more than just sixteen students.” Lotor argued in his signature laid back manner. 

“I don't think it will.” Lance said, people’s eyes jumping between the two boys as if at a tennis match. 

“Why are you so opposed to having the other class involved?” This time it was the usually aloof Acxa who spoke up, her indigo eyes boring into Lance suspiciously. 

Lance scoffed. What he wanted to say was: “I know this play will work out just fine with the sixteen of us, Lotor just suggested this because he didn’t get to suggest the play. He’s just a big, immature attention seeker!” To which everybody would reply: “Wow, Lance has finally lost it” or “ Who’s the attention seeker here?” 

Instead Lance just scoffed, mouth agape as he began to cook up his reply. This time, however, his reply wasn’t his own and as much as it pained Lance to acknowledge this, he knew he wasn’t as smooth a talker as Lotor. “Whatever.” Lance resigned, turning to face the front of the room again. 

Hunk, Pidge and now Keith shot Lance an incredulous look, to which Lance rolled his eyes and sulked. Adding Keith to their little group was just adding another set of eyes to judge him. Coran, much unlike Lance, was quite intrigued by the idea and dropped his chalk back down on his desk. 

“Well, why don’t I drop into Professor Thace’s room and see what his class thinks?” 

Everyone watched Coran leave the room and the second he shut the door behind him the class erupted into eardrum-damaging conversation. Pidge and Hunk immediately spun to face Lance. 

“What was that?” Pidge immediately squawked. 

“What was what?” Lance feigned ignorance. 

“I have known you my entire life man, and I’ve never seen you jump down Lotor’s throat like that!” Hunk said, flashing a nervous glance over to Lotor. 

“Maybe he’s been nice to me for too long. He needs a new victim.” Keith joined in this time and Lance once again guffawed at how easily he was slipping into these attacks.

Lance shot Keith a sneer before shrugging, but no matter how relaxed he tried to act his face still scrunched up like a stubborn toddler. “It’s nothing…” 

Pidge and Hunk exchanged suspicious looks as Lance glanced over to Allura, who sat silently with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes cast out the window, lost in her own mind. Okay, so maybe Lance and Lotor’s previous relationship of careless indifference turned a tad sour after he so cruelly stole Allura from him in their senior year. Lotor and Allura’s romance seemed to come out of nowhere, one day having never spoken to each other and the next so wonderfully in love. For Lance, who had been majorly crushing on Allura for almost six years, it was a devastating blow to his ego and his heart. Not only had the girl of his dreams been taken from him, but everyone else in the school was aware it was happening. And while Lance had no such feelings for Allura anymore, his resentment for Lotor was strong as ever. I mean, if he was going to make a move on Allura did he have to make it so devastatingly public? There’s no way he was going to let that happen again…

Lance frowned and turned away to face the front of the room again, meeting eyes with Keith who had been staring directly at him. Pidge and Hunk had turned back to their own respective conversation leaving the two boys in their own little bubble of privacy.

”What?” Lance said, his voice coming out more defensive than his intended irritated tone. 

Keith frowned, turning back to face the front silently. Conveniently, Coran waltzed back in not long after, and once back in front of his desk, gleefully announced that the second class would be joining them in their playwriting. The first hour of every morning would no longer be their free hour, but would now be dedicated to preparing for the end of year performance. Not only that, but now instead of sixteen students, there would now be thirty two students squeezed into the room so Lotor’s wonderful idea could be carried out.

Great . 

April 19th, Tuesday

22 days

While Lance was beyond happy to get to experience his worry free, tax free teenage years again, there was one thing that Lance dreaded every day. Studying. While the original teen Lance wouldn’t be caught dead doing work in his free time, current Lance found himself hunched over his desk too early in the morning doing just that. Shiro sat by his side in the empty classroom mumbling soft words of encouragement as Lance attempted to decipher a math problem. He had texted Shiro the previous night in a state of despair, finding himself painfully behind on the curriculum. One of the few downsides of not having done any mathematical education in nearly a decade. Although, if Lance were being completely honest with himself, his knowledge of maths when he was eighteen and twenty eight really weren’t all that different. But Shiro wasn’t upset by the text and was actually delighted when Lance asked for his help and suggested they come in an hour early the next day for a quick tutoring session. With godlike patience Shiro explained every question and meticulously guided Lance through everything until he was finally able to (somewhat) comprehend what he was supposed to do. Shiro sat back with an encouraging smile as Lance worked through another question himself. 

“You’re already getting a lot better, Lance.” Shiro praised Lance as he watched him work. 

Lance sighed and tossed his notebook shut, carelessly swiping his remaining books into a pile in the corner of the desk. “That is plenty of math for today. If Professor Montgomery isn’t happy with that then the problem is beyond my capabilities.” 

Shiro scooted back a bit to turn to face Lance, a sudden curiosity in the warm expression wore. “You seem a lot more serious about your studies these days Lance. It’s good to see.” Shiro said with a smile too wise for his face. 

Lance smiled sheepishly back. “Well, I suppose it’s about time I try knuckle down a bit more. Exams aren’t too far away, you know.” 

Shiro let out an exasperated sigh. “I know.” A laugh that was no doubt laced with stress forced its way out of Shiro’s mouth as he turned his eyes away from Lance. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re worried about exams.” Lance scoffed, turning in his chair and throwing his arm over the back. “Shiro, I think you know more about these subjects than the teachers do, you are the last person who should worry about exams. If you’re worried then I should be digging my own grave.”

Shiro’s stress melted away, rewarding Lance’s pep talk with a relieved grin and a sheepish chuckle. “Calm down, I’m not that good.” 

“Oh don’t get humble on me now, Shiro. It won’t get you anywhere.” Lance rolled his eyes. 

In Lance’s adult life, the one thing that kept him awake at night was how much he wanted to change the past. If he had just put in a little more effort here, or done one more hour of study there, Lance would have liked to believe that his life wouldn’t have turned out so miserably. He still remembers the day he flunked his entrance exams for pilot school. He remembered not being able to sleep the night before and each time he sat at his desk to study he would find himself blacking out, unable to absorb any amount of words he attempted to read. He remembered sitting in the exam hall, hundreds of other students around him scribbling on their sheets while Lance stared down, unable to even write his own name. 

Lance had lived his whole life in constant regret. He never wanted to feel that emotion ever again.

“Lance?” 

Lance flinched, looking up to Shiro whose eyes were locked on his own. 

“Sorry, did I space out?” Lance spoke awkwardly. 

Shiro let out a small huff of laughter as he shook his head. “It’s fine, I was just going to tell you not to worry. Keep this routine up and you’ll be fine. Besides, I can help you out whenever you need.” 

Lance’s body almost felt lighter at Shiro’s encouraging words as he gave the other a sheepish thanks. 

“So, Shiro…” 

Shiro turned to face Lance with a warm smile, eyes bright with encouraging curiosity, an expression Lance would never grow tired of. 

“Curtis is gonna be helping our class with the play, huh?” Lance hummed with an all-knowing smirk in Shiro’s direction. 

Shiro was rendered speechless for a moment, and Lance could practically sense his growing embarrassment. Lance sniggered, shimmying into a more comfortable position in his chair.

“Right. But I don’t plan on letting that distract me from my duties.” Shiro straightened his back with a firm expression. Lance only snorted. 

“Relax Shiro, you’re the director of a school play, not the president.” 

“Hey, no matter how unimportant an assignment seems, you should put your all into it. I shouldn’t let silly things distract me from the main mission.” Shiro argued with a pathetic attempt at a stoic smoulder. 

Lance let out a snort of laughter and punched Shiro sharply in the shoulder, the two of them promptly crumbling into comfortable laughter. However, as students began flooding inside the classroom, some taking a moment to praise Lance for being so uncharacteristically early, Lance reflected on what Shiro said. While Lance had been bouncing between everything he really was quite disorganised. Routine, that’s what Lance needed. Shiro was putting his everything into organising a school play, and Lance was just winging it when someone’s life was on the line. He needed to come up with a solid plan, a real direction to go in if he wanted to get things under control.

Chapter Text

April 19th, Tuesday 

22 days

Coran waltzed into the room as the bell rang, however this time he was followed by another teacher and a line of students. With his habitual enthusiasm, he commanded the students to move the tables to the edge of the classroom and form a circle with chairs. Once the students had done so, the two teachers standing at the top of the class and overlooking the operation, everyone sat down in a chair. Shiro and Curtis stood at the top of the circle closest to the teachers, each exchanging timid smiles every so often as they attempted to maintain their class-rep poise. 

“Alright everybody, I’m sure we all know each other.” Coran spoke loudly, killing any remaining whispered conversations. “I shall pass control to your class representatives - this is a student project after all. However, Professor Thace and I will be happy to assist you in any way possible!”

Professor Thace stood with his legs slightly spread and hands folded behind his back. While he had the face of a distant but favourite uncle, his body and mannerisms reflected the man he used to be. Apparently he was a marine for over a decade before giving that life up to pursue his other interests (such interests being trying to force a bunch of teenagers to be interested in Shakespeare). He regarded the rest of the class with a reserved warmth to his smile as he allowed Coran to herd the flock of teens before them. Coran nodded to Shiro before he and Thace retreated into the corner of the room, watching over everyone like they were in an inspection.

Shiro was quick as ever to take control of the class, clapping his hands together as he looked over the circle of students in a room. Shiro had the unique ability of commanding the attention of everyone in a room with little effort, everyone instantly turning their eyes to watch him. ”Curtis and I took the time to come up with the possible jobs that have to be delegated around the class. Uh,” he turned to Curtis who quickly handed a small journal to Shiro with a crooked smile. Shiro in turn gave Curtis his own sheepish smile before turning to the piece of paper he was handed, taking a moment to remind himself what he was doing before clearing his throat. 

Lance smirked, leaning over to Pidge on his right. “How did we never realise how stupid they are for each other?” 

“Oh it’s so painfully obvious now,”  She whispered back with a smug, self sure smirk of her own, “I mean, they ‘ took the time’ to work alone.” She spoke, using finger quotations as she warped Shiro’s words in a way he surely wouldn’t appreciate.

“How much of that was working,” Hunk chipped in, leaning around Lance with a mischievous grin, “and how much of it was smoochin’?”  

“I’m sure the tension in the air was electric.” Allura cooed by Pidge’s side and clasped her hands together, eyes glossing over as she lost herself to her overactive imagination. 

“You guys are being really loud.” Keith lurched around Hunk’s shoulder, giving the group a disapproving glare. 

“Buzzkill.” Lance mumbled, crossing his arm and turning his eyes back to face Shiro. Keith’s mouth opened to speak, an offended look on his face, before he shut whatever it was down and turned back to face Shiro too.

“So!” Shiro clapped his hands together again, successfully gaining Lance’s attention once more. Curtis has made his way over to the chalkboard, his own piece of paper in hand as he began writing in block capitals across the top of the board. “Curtis and I will take the role of Director and Assistant Director-”

“So romantic.” Pidge sniggered, Lance only shoved her playfully. 

“Who's the director and who’s assistant director?” Another voice cut in and Lance had to look around the room to see who it was. He followed everyone’s eyes to where a sharp faced boy sat with a sly smirk.

“Uh, I’ll be the director and Curtis will be-” Shiro only began before another voice cut in.

“Does this imply that our class is inferior to yours?” Spoke a girl as she adjusted the glasses on her nose, equally sly grin on her lips. 

“James, Nadia.” Curtis grumbled, his previously wobbly and awkward face now in a sharp glare. “Shiro is the director because he’s chairperson of the student council and so more suited to the position.” James and Nadia only rolled their eyes though it was less spiteful and more like children who had been told off one too many times by their mother. 

Shiro turned to Curtis with a frown. “You’re just as qualified as I am for the job, besides we’ll share almost every responsibility. We’ll manage timetables, schedules, budget and all other logistical stuff I’m sure nobody else would really want to do.” Shiro’s eyes snapped up, eyes glowing with his omnipresent enthusiasm. “Of course, no job is let important than the other, and we plan to take this role very seriously, even though others might think it’s less glamorous than-”

“Nobody thinks you’re hating on the Director role, Shiro. No need to be so noble, man.” Matt hollered from the back of the room. 

A wave of giggles swept through the room as Shiro’s cheeks glowed with embarrassment. “Thank you, Matt. Uh… We’ll need script writers! Script writers and actors, set designers, prop designers, costume designers,” Shiro glanced back to make sure Curtis was keeping up with him, taking a moment to allow Curtis to catch up before turning back to the class. “We’ll need a publicity team to promote the play to the school, but it'd be nice if people outside the school could show up too if we can make that happen. We’ll need a welcoming committee on the night of the show as well as a crew for stage functions like lighting and curtains…” Shiro’s voice trailed off in Lance’s mind as the list continued to grow. Shiro lets out a satisfied huff and looks up from the sheet to smile up at the rest of the class. “Any other roles anyone can think of?” 

Thirty pairs of eyes stared silently up at Shiro. 

“I’m starting to think that they really did just work when they were alone…” Lance whispered. 

Pidge smirked. “They are going to have the most organised wedding…”

Shiro grinned. “Great! Then we can start delegating the roles for everyone!” 

The room erupted into conversation, starting as quiet mutters but soon escalating into a chorus of yelling and shouts attempting to be heard over each other amidst pointing and head shaking. Shiro’s face split into an exasperated smile as he cast a look behind him to Curtis. Curtis almost melted simply by Shiro turning to look at him, eyes wide and brown cheeks turning a charming crimson as an awkward smile made its way onto his own lips. Shiro sighed, turning back to face the circle and clapping his hands once again.

“Alright! I think I ended that a little… vaguely…” Shiro crossed his arms and regarded the circle. “The first thing we need to get out of the way in the script. We can’t start anything else until we have some idea of what our play is going to be about.”

“Good call, Shiro!” 

“Thank you, Matt…” 

Lance allowed himself to deeply contemplate this. The play could go in any direction, really. It shouldn’t be the same old cliché love story, it should be a story nobody will expect. People should come into the room expecting one thing only that has all expectations completely diverted. People should leave the room changed . It should be something never seen before. 

“Why don’t we have a knight rescuing a princess!” 

The room was immediately split into two: the girls plus Hunk deeply in favour of this idea, and the boys plus Zethrid against. 

“That’s so cliché!” 

“It’s a classic!” 

“Everyone’s gonna do that!” 

“What do you mean everyone’s gonna do that? Nobody else is doing a play!” 

“What if-” A clear voice cut through the chaos, an arrogant and pretentious voice that made Lance’s face scrunch up as if he had just bitten into a lime. “We have a knight and a princess, but we can flip the trope on its head and have the princess rescue the knight.” 

Lance’s eyes reluctantly crawled over to where the suggestion had come: a haughty figure lounging back in his cheap school chair as if it were a throne, brown skin blemish-free and silver hair without a strand out of place. His violet eyes met Lance’s, seeming surprised at Lance’s venomous look.

Oh let us all bow down to Prince Lotor, he has saved the kingdom from war once again. Lance rolled his eyes as everyone immediately swooned and sang for Lotor’s wonderful suggestion. Though reluctant he would be to admit, Lance knew that Lotor was good at making compromises. And he knew that last time this suggestion went down quite well with the class too. Very reluctant to admit. 

“Okay, that sounds pretty good. What does everyone else think?” Shiro’s eyes swept over the room. Upon finding no obvious protest (apart from the daggers Lance shot across the room at Lotor), Shiro smiled and turned to Curtis. “Princess rescues the knight it is-” 

“They should be aliens!” Lance was yelling before he could even think about what he was saying, just as confused as everyone else in the room at his own words. Even the stoic Thace in the corner was watching Lance with mild bewilderment as if he were an exotic animal.

“Uh, interesting take, Lance…” Shiro had begun, but Lance could only see Lotor’s smug little smirk from the corner of his eye. 

“I like the idea.” Another unfamiliar voice rang out, and this time Lance’s eyes met with an almost startlingly handsome boy’s, his face angular and stony holding a cool, indifferent look. 

James scoffed from a couple seats over, “Ryan, you can’t be serious-” 

“I agree! We could be really creative with the costumes and the set design that way!” A girl Lance actually recognised as Romelle chimed in, Shay by her side nodding along enthusiastically. 

Curtis smiled along, “It’s definitely a way to stand out from the previous years.” Forget Shiro, Lance wanted to go up to the front of the class and kiss him. Curtis proceeded to write down Lance’s idea and slowly the room warmed up to his strange idea. 

“Who would like to volunteer to write the script?” Shiro announced, allowing the room to explode into discussion once again. Eventually Ezor, Zethrid and Slav were the elected team of writers, Ezor’s impressive imagination, Zethrid’s to-the-point attitude, along with Slav’s tendency to overthink every possible scenario made for a surprisingly efficient team. Pidge, Hunk, Shay and a quiet, freckle dashed girl named Ina were elected as the set and prop designers. Hunk and Shay were also elected to be on the welcoming committee on the day of the show because according to Matt “nobody could resist buying anything off those sweet faces”. Matt’s unstoppable chatter made him ideal for the publicity job, along with Nadia’s knack for technology. 

“I’m glad everyone is so happy to take all these roles, but don’t forget we need to elect actors too!” Shiro cut in, causing the group to halt their enthusiasm.

“Why? Can’t the publicity officer be the knight too?” Matt cut in with a scoff. 

“I’m sure they could , but I don’t think anyone wants to see you as the knight.” Pidge sniggered, causing Matt to yank his shoe off and chuck it at his sister. She shrieked and promptly threw it back, successfully clocking him in the knee. 

“What I mean is,” Shiro yelled over the siblings causing them both to quickly snap to attention, “We’ll need to begin rehearsals relatively soon, so people like set designers, prop designers and costume designers wouldn’t have time to do both. So the roles that would have time would be roles like publicity-” 

“Ha!” 

“- and the script writers. Actors also need to start rehearsing as soon as they can, and they’ll probably have to meet up outside school hours to work on lines as they’re written too. Acting seems like a glamorous role but it’ll be pretty time consuming...” 

Lance perked up, straightening his back and snapping his head towards Shiro so quickly it made Pidge and Hunk by either side of him flinch. An idea - a wonderful idea - came upon Lance. It was an idea so perfect that he found himself in shock.. Lance was so blinded by his hate for Lotor that he didn’t realise how wonderfully his stupid plan could play into Lance’s favour. 

Shiro looked over to Lance and smiled encouragingly. 

“Electing yourself as the knight, Lance?” Shiro asked, though judging by the tone of his voice he was expecting no less. 

“No, Keith should be the knight.” 

The room was silent, a mutual shock coming over everyone as they stared at Lance. 

Why didn’t Lance elect himself? The answer was rather simple: Lance tried last time and didn’t get it, Lotor got it. Allura of course played the princess. 

Why wouldn’t Lance let this happen again? This answer is rather simple too: it was this very casting decision that led Allura to fall deeply in love with her knight in shining armour. Lance remembered everyone else being so happy for the loving couple, while he was the only one who saw the sly smirks and sneaky scoffs sent in his direction. If Keith was Lance’s rival, then Lotor was Lance’s enemy. 

And speaking of Keith, by slotting Keith into the position of the knight, Lance could achieve two things: not only would Allura be unable to spend her lovey-dovey time alone with Lotor, Keith would also be under strict surveillance for the next few weeks, leaving him no time to go off and get himself involved with some murderer or kidnapper. Both Allura and Keith saved with the one manoeuvre.

Keith’s eyes burned into the side of Lance’s face with a such fiery rage that Lance could practically feel his skin prickling. “No way.” He huffed with a scowl as he turned to slump back down in his seat. 

Upon seeing everyone’s fading interest, Lance jumped forward in his seat and gestured wildly. “No, I’m serious! Who is the last person people would expect to play the main role in our play? Plus, having mysterious, emo boy Keith as our headliner would only make more people come in just out of curiosity.” 

“Shut up.” Keith hissed from his slouched tantrum a few seats down, however everyone else in the room began to consider Lance’s wild plan. Lance’s chest puffed out in pride. 

“Then what about the princess?” Pidge asked. 

“I think you would make a ferocious princess, Pidge.” Matt jumped in, earning another shoe thrown his way. 

“Well obviously the princess has to be Allura.” Lance scoffed, crossing his arms casually. The decision was unanimous.

“Why don’t we have someone from the other class be the princess?” 

Lance’s eyes slapped towards the source of the voice. Who other than his own enemy? Lotor, his own arms crossed carelessly as he reclined in his classroom chair throne, his adoring subjects practically prostrating at each suggestion he produced. 

“Why? Don’t you think Allura’s good enough to play the princess?” Lance snapped, the classroom immediately simmering into silence as the anticipation built in the room. A fight? So suddenly? 

“Of course I do, but don’t you think everyone expects Allura to be the princess? Nobody expects Keith to be the knight, so why not have someone that nobody expects be the princess too?”  Lotor retorted with an irritating nonchalance. 

“People want to see Allura as the princess, everyone agrees it makes the most sense.” 

“You mean you want to see Allura as the princess.” 

“This has nothing to do with-” Lance scoffed, cheeks growing warm, “ I don’t like Allura like that.” 

“Oh, really?” Lotor shot him a disbelieving look. Then he tilted his chin up. “ Why doesn’t Romelle play the princess?” 

“Me?!” Romelle’s face had completely turned red in a matter of seconds, “Oh no, I couldn’t-” 

“Why not? I think you’d be great.” Lotor snapped, his words less encouraging for Romelle and more an attack against Lance. 

Before Lance had the chance to explode Shiro swiftly cut in, voice laced with anxiety at the sudden outburst of both boys. “Alright! The decision is with the group! What does the rest of the class think?” 

Allura, suddenly being watched by everyone in the room, flinched as she looked between the two bickering boys. Her eyes were wide and anxious, as if under the blinding spotlight of an interrogation room. Her lips twitched into an awkward grimace, sweat beading at her forehead as she carefully considered her words. 

“I… I think it would be nice for Allura to be the princess.” A blushing Romelle stuttered from her side, a shy smile edging its way onto her lips. “Plus, I don’t think I’d do well memorising all those lines.” 

“And Romelle is wonderful at knitting! I think she’d be wonderful on the costume design team.” Shay added with a warm smile in Romelle’s direction. 

“I think James should be the princess-” 

“Shut up, Rizavi.” 

“Hey! That’s Nadia to you.”  

“No, that’s dead to me - you are dead to me.” 

“Alright you two!” This time it was Curtis who jumped in, everyone from Lance’s class watching with deep interest. “We don’t have all day to make these decisions. We can save the bickering for after class, right?” 

James scowled and stared at the floor while Nadia adjusted her glasses and flashed a sheepish smile in Curtis’ direction. “Got it, captain.” 

Curtis rolled his eyes but a fond smile slithered over his lips betraying his stern facade.. 

“Wow, the Lance and Keith of Class B?” Pidge looked between Lance and Keith with a smirk. 

“Nah, I’m way hotter than that guy.” Lance joked back. 

“You've definitely got a bigger ego than him anyway.” Keith chimed in with a disdainful glower. 

“Shut up, mullet.” 

“Lance, Keith!” 

“Sorry, Shiro…”
“Sorry, Shiro…” The two mumbled in unison. 

Lance and Pidge shared a look, sucking in their lips to contain their laughter. Keith scoffed and turned away from the two. 

“So, Allura for the princess?” And when Shiro’s question was met with no protests Curtis wrote her role on the chalkboard. The classroom erupted in applause and congratulations for Allura who gracefully accepted it as if true royalty.

Hunk glanced over to Keith then back to Allura’s celebration. “Keith didn’t get cheers.” 

“Keith didn’t get asked if he even wanted to be in this play.” Keith cut in with his signature scowl.

“Oh, pish posh Keith. You know you’re glad to get the role.” Lance waved his hand dismissively as if Keith were merely a fly buzzing around his head. 

“No, I’m not!” Keith leaned forwards in his seat so he could have a clear runway to shoot his daggers at Lance. 

Lance turned to face Keith with a frown, scolding him like a child who refused to eat his greens. “Plenty of people would love your role!” 

“They can take it!” Keith threw his hands up, but before he could protest any further Shiro had already lulled the classroom to begin his next area of discussion. 

“Well, now we need to appoint the costume design team.” Shiro read off from his list, tapping his chin contemplatively. 

“The home economics room has a couple of sewing machines we can borrow, though they’re pretty old.” Curtis added. 

“Great, can anyone our age sew?” Ezor scoffed from the opposite side of the room, lounging lazily in her chair. 

“Pretty sure nobody under the age of sixty can.” Zethrid added, her and Ezor exchanging smirks. 

“I can sew.” 

As a silence spilled over the classroom Lance found himself the centre of attention once again, Pidge and Hunk staring at Lance with the most baffled expressions of them all. Lance nervously looked around the room at all the suspicious eyes upon him, wishing he could go back in time one more time just to take back what he said. 

“You can?” Pidge eventually broke the silence. 

“I- Yeah…” Lance answered. 

“Since when?” Hunk added. 

“Since…” Lance thought back. Lance was probably around twenty two at the time. He was only at the beginning of his job testing legacy and his mother had gotten him a job at her old friend’s tailors. Lance actually quite enjoyed that job, repetitive as it was. Lance was actually quite upset when he had to quit the job, though it was either quit or follow his boss across the country so that she could move in with her sister. But now, Lance realised, he technically never worked in that shop and was suddenly in need of an alibi. “Well, a couple of years ago my mom’s friend stayed in town. She’s a tailor, had stuff to fix so she taught me to sew so I could help out.” Lance looked around the room, unsure if his lie had worked. 

“That’s…” Lance’s gaze followed the voice, and as his eyes met with Keith’s he felt urged to speak up. 

“What?” 

Keith’s eyes immediately retreated and he shrank back into his seat. 

“That’s perfect! Lance can lead the costume design team.” Shiro nodded enthusiastically at Curtis who swiftly spun to scrawl Lance’s name under the costume design role. “Anyone else? Romelle? Shay said you could be up for it?” 

Romelle nodded enthusiastically, clearly more in her own element. Lance gave her a smile too, remembering how pleasant Romelle was, though he never did spend much time with her.

“And Ryan, why don’t you help Lance with costume design? You’re pretty good at practical work.” Curtis chimed in. 

Lance followed Curtis’ gaze to land on the boy from earlier that Lance hadn’t noticed before that day - though Lance never noticed anyone from the other class if he was being honest. Lance could tell he was tall despite his being slouched in his chair, and his face was pleasant and angular. 

“I’d be happy to learn how to sew, if,” Ryan spoke as he turned to Lance, straightening up in his seat like a soldier called to attention, “you’d be willing to teach me.”

“I- uh, yeah. Of course.” Lance spoke. It was weirdly unnerving being addressed so formally by someone his own age. Well, someone technically ten years younger than him. 

Curtis smiled at Ryan before turning to write Ryan Kinkade below Lance’s name, then adding Romelle’s name too. Lance looked away from the chalkboard to look at Kinkade again, a pair of deep brown eyes locked with his own. Kinkade watched Lance for a beat or two before simply shooting him a silent nod. Lance smiled awkwardly and nodded back, far less cool and mysterious. 

The rest of the roles were given out until the end of the hour. Lotor and Axca would be stage directors, much to Lance’s dismay. He would just have to keep a close eye on Lotor, knowing the worm would probably find a way to spend time alone with Allura with his directorial privilege.

“Alright, good job everyone! Curtis and I will be reaching out to each team individually, so get to know your team, get a game plan started, and we’ll start work tomorrow.” Shiro called out, appearing so much older than everyone else in the class.

Coran took this as his cue to jump in, physically leaping up to the front of the class once more to address the room. “Right, we still have a few minutes left of homeroom! Use this time to get to know your teams and partners, and use this room however you want! We have the two homerooms reserved until the end of the month!” 

Everyone immediately hopped to their feet, excitedly ushering each other around to get to their teams. Lance's narrow gaze followed Lotor as he meandered his way towards Allura. Before he had a chance to jump in however, Lance was grabbed by the upper arm and jerked to spin around. 

“What was that about?” 

“Woah, Keith. Aggressive, much?” Lance scoffed, pulling himself free from Keith to massage the spot Keith had grabbed. It didn’t actually hurt, but Lance enjoyed milking each interaction with Keith dry. In only a week Lance found it so easy to be swept up in the joy that came with teasing him. 

“Why did you pick me to be the prince?” Keith growled, appearing to use all of his strength not to yell in front of everyone. 

Lance sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Keith with a smirk. “Knight, actually. And didn’t you hear? It’s strictly a publicity stunt.” 

“You just want to make me look like an idiot in front of the school.” Keith scoffed, jabbing a finger into Lance’s chest - which actually hurt that time. 

Lance slapped a hand over the spot Keith had poked, scowling as he hugged himself in defence. “You really think I’d sacrifice the main role in the play just to sabotage you?” 

“Yes!” Keith exclaimed. 

“You don’t think I would suggest you because I honestly think you’re good for the role?” Lance added, putting his own acting skills, skills that really would have made him the perfect prince, wonderfully into play. Lance’s words dripped with exasperated shock, and slowly but surely Keith became unsure of himself, lips slapping open and shut like a fish - a flustered fish at that. 

“I-” Keith cut himself short, studying Lance with a suspicious gaze. “I don’t know.” He muttered, his tone as unsure as his eyes. 

Lance’s hands dropped to his side. It didn’t take a genius to know that Keith was really just nervous about playing the part in front of the whole town. From the emo kid who sulked in the corner to the main actor, centre stage and under the spotlight. Lance could look past the anger and suspicion in Keith’s actions and see the real anxiety beneath. Lance was an old friend with that very feeling, and since he knew that old friend intimately he felt it only right to do something to ease Keith’s mind. “I’m not saying this to mock you, you know.” Lance said, “not mocking you like how you were going to mock me for being able to sew, right?” 

Keith’s mouth snapped shut promptly before slowly opening once more, brows knitted. “What?” 

Lance crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “When I said I could sew, you were about to say something. I know you were gonna make fun of me.” Lance shrugged with a smug grin, “I know, it’s hard to believe that a manly man such as myself can also have such domestic traits about me. I’m full of surprises, Keith.” Lance flashed a wink at Keith for some added pzazz. 

Keith’s face scrunched up, eyes flitting away. “I wasn’t gonna make fun of you.” 

“You totally were.” Lance cut in. 

“I wasn’t!” 

“Oh yeah? Then what were you going to say, huh?” Lance leaned it, putting on his best interrogative face as he watched Keith squirm.

“I was going to say that it was kinda…” Keith mumbled, eyes stuck in their lock with Lance’s. 

“Kinda…?” 

“Lance.” 

The two boys tore their attention from each other, both snapping their eyes to look at the boy who approached. Kinkade, arms tucked rigidly by his side and posture more proper than a soldier’s. Lance’s lip twitched into a strange thing between a smile and a grimace. 

“Yes?” Lance slowly turned from Keith to the tallest of the three. 

“Sorry to.. interrupt. Ryan Kinkade, pleased to work with you.” Kinkade extended his hand in a way that looked like he was doing a segment of the robot dance. Did his arm not move at the elbow? 

“Lance McClain, and uh, same here.” Lance hesitantly extended his own arm and took Kinkade’s. As their hands clasped together it was suddenly very clear that Kinkade wasn’t a robot, a thin layer of sweat having built up on his palm. Lance had to force himself not to reflexively wipe his hands upon releasing Kinkade’s to save the poor boy from humiliation. Lance felt his mouth tug up into a smile, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Kinkade carefully. Sympathy bubbled up in his chest, not entirely sure why this Kinkade kid had worked up so many nerves. “You can relax, you know. I know sewing can be scary, it is pretty dangerous. Especially since you’ll be learning from an expert like me, but we’ll take it one step at a time.” He teased, pleased to see the tension in Kinkade’s shoulders ease up a pinch. 

An awkward smile edged its way onto Kinkade’s own face. “Yeah… right…” 

“Sweet.” 

Lance blinked, turning his head to where Keith had broken his silence. “Huh?” 

Keith looked to Lance for a number of seconds, the two suffocating in the thickness of their own silence. Yet no explanation came. Keith only looked away, eyes jumping from scuff to scuff on the floor as they avoided Lance. 

“I’m gonna go.” 

Lance hadn’t even finished taking a breath before Keith had taken his swift exit, hands buried in his pockets and head lowered. Lance watched him with a lost expression, unsure of how to feel about the sinking feeling in his chest, unsure of what he had done or what he could do. But then Kinkade called his name again, and then they were talking and exchanging numbers and Lance quickly forgot Keith, swept up in the rush of the present.

Chapter Text

April 20th, Wednesday

21 days

Everyone soon realised that an hour in the morning was far from enough time to get everything done on time and an extra few hours every evening were arranged for the senior year to cram in as much preparation as they could. Hunk’s fingernails had been stained a wonderful yellow colour, Pidge’s glasses were splattered with little dots of green paint and Shay’s hands were cramping from the obscene amount of measuring and cutting they had already done by that evening. Ina was inexplicably unscathed, and Lance doubted she was entirely human. 

Shiro and Curtis had been huddled together at Coran's desk, copious amounts of papers and folders about themselves as they continued to do whatever the director and assistant director do. To anyone else they would look consumed in their work, but for Lance, who was aware of both their workaholic tendencies as well as their infatuation with each other, the quiet and bashful exchanges were constant and obvious between the two. 

Allura was guiding Keith through some acting exercises, stretches and other things Keith surely thought was nonsense. He was struggling to look like he was paying attention to Allura, but was blatantly distracted by two other cosy figures across the room. 

Ryan was hunched over a sewing machine, Lance leaning over his shoulder and carefully guiding him around it. The machine had been produced from the home economics classroom and likely hadn’t been used in about a decade. Romelle sat across from them, paying them no mind as she scribbled possible costume designs into her notebook. 

“So, you call this a spool. You put the spool on the dowel – this is the dowel here, like this…” Lance was explaining as he reached over Ryan, “and you wanna make sure the spool is facing away from you, that’s important.” 

Ryan sat so rigidly that Lance thought he was replaced with a mannequin while he wasn’t looking, but the periodical hums of comprehension that Ryan every so often let out said otherwise. Lance stepped away from Ryan and slipped into the seat between him and Romelle. Ryan watched him with a concerned frown, but Lance smiled at him reassuringly. 

“Why don’t we take a break? There’s no point in trying to sew anything if we don’t have any designs yet.” Lance turned to Romelle, who upon hearing the mention of designs perked up with a grin. 

“I’ve got a few ideas, let me know what you think!” 

She put her notebook down on the table and spun it around to reveal a number of sketches in just as many colours as her multicoloured nails. Lance and Ryan lean to closer inspect Romelle’s drawings, exchanging a sheepish look before slowly reclining again. Romelle’s eyes shone with excitement as she showed off her sketches, though at the expression on the others’ faces her joy shrank. 

“What? You don’t like them?” She asked anxiously as she pulled her notebook back to herself. 

“No, no, no, it’s not that at all! It’s just…” Lance trailed off as he looked around the room at the group of actors already rehearsing in the corner and then back to his two partners. 

“It’s going to be a busy three weeks.” Ryan’s tone was a tad morbid for the subject material, but Lance always did have an appreciation for melodrama. 

“I’m gonna go get another sewing machine.”

Lance was on his way back from the home economics room with an awkwardly heavy sewing machine cradled in his arms when his ears picked up a noise that he definitely didn’t appreciate. There were two voices speaking: one male, one female and both British. Lance’s nostrils flared at the sound, following the scent like a bloodhound until he came across the scene of the crime. Lance rounded the corner to see Allura and Lotor alone in the corridor and Lance had to actively work not to exclaim his disapproval lest he sound like his ideologies had gone back two hundred years. A woman alone with a man without a chaperone! A scandal! 

Instead he marched over, ancient sewing machine in hand, and fearlessly inserted himself into the conversation. “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing?” Lance called loud enough that Lotor and Allura could hear him before he was even remotely close to them, yet close enough that Lance could see the disdain spreading on Lotor’s face. 

“Lance? We were just getting drinks for the others.” Allura replied with a smile as Lance approached, gesturing to the stack of water bottles in her own arms. 

“Shouldn’t you be off knitting a scarf or something?” Lotor sighed, eyes sharp with cocky sarcasm. 

Allura frowned, turning to scold Lotor before Lance interrupted again, her head jumping between the arguing boys as if she were spectating a tennis match. 

Lance scoffed, puffing out his chest and putting his sewing machine on full display. “Please, you’re just jealous that me being able to sew got me more chicks in one class than you’ve ever had in your life.” Was it petty arguing with someone ten years younger than him? Yes. Was it worth it? Absolutely. Lance never did grow out of his rather immature need to defend his ego. 

Lotor bristled, tilting his chin up and looking down at Lance as if he were no more than a crushed bug on the sole of his shoe. “You seriously think that? And where are these chicks you speak of? The closest thing I see is you, cradling that machine like a child.” 

“What, is Allura a dude now?” Lance snorted.

“I wouldn’t dare call Allura something so crude as a mere chick . See, I hold for her something called respect , a word perhaps too complex for your vocabulary.”

“Dude, why are you talking like it’s the eighteenth century?” 

Lotor’s cheeks were beginning to burn with frustration and the bottles of water in his arms were close to being thrown to the floor before they were interrupted by yet another passerby. This interruptor came in the form of a boy with a burning gaze and a fiery temper, approaching the scene with a lot less rage and a lot more simple suspicion than Lance had, but nonetheless captured the attention of everyone else. Allura seemed to be relieved at the sight, a smile gracing her lips and taking a step through the shrinking space between Lotor and Lance. 

“Oh Keith, thank goodness. These two are kicking up a pointless argument, perhaps you can help diffuse the situation.” 

Keith gave Allura a frown before looking up between the other boys. “What was the fight about?” 

“Well, Lance was telling us how he has more chicks than I, now that the world knows he can sew. I, on the other hand, was expressing my dislike for a word so demeaning as-” 

“Well he’s right.” Keith interrupted with such a beautiful indifference that Lance just about swooned. So there were social advantages to befriending Keith too?

Lotor paused, choking on the proud monologue that was once streaming out of his mouth to stare incredulously at Keith’s unbothered face. He scoffed, baffled by the situation, before quickly collecting his composure and putting back up the princely perfect persona. 

“Excuse me?” Lotor began, but Keith paid him no mind. 

“I have to talk to Lance.” He stated firmly, now only looking at Lance who suddenly wished he was anywhere but that corridor. This now felt like an interrogation and suddenly Lotor’s presence was quite the peaceful thing. But after receiving such a devastating blow to his ego Lotor was quite happy to oblige, haughtily spinning on his heel and gliding away. Allura soon followed, but not before shaking her head disapprovingly at both Keith and Lance. 

“Boys,” she huffed before marching away. 

Lance tried to enjoy the glee of winning against Lotor, reveling in the brief glimpse of a rotten scowl on his handsome face as he disappeared around the corner. Finally a score for Lance after the several scores against him in the past decade. However, with a certain pair of stormy violet eyes burning into the side of his face, said victory was difficult to relish. Lance slowly turned to face Keith again and felt as if he had been punched in the gut just by doing so. Keith’s eye contact was always so intense, and coming from someone that Lance had grieved just made the sensation so surreal. But Lance pushed himself through that winded, breathless feeling and mustered up his most casual smile. 

“I’ve never seen Lotor worked up like that before, I could get used to the view.” Lance hummed with a smug grin yet Keith’s face didn’t exactly show the same satisfaction. Maybe that came from always winning your arguments - the verbal ones anyway. 

Keith watched Lance with a suspicious frown before vaguely gesturing to where Lotor had just left with a slight jerk of his head. “What’s your problem with Lotor anyway? You never really had a problem with him before.” 

Lance puckered his lips in thought for a moment before shrugging, he didn’t really have a reason in this lifetime, did he? “With a name like that who wouldn’t have a problem with him?” Lance joked which did anything but appease Keith. “Just- it’s a long story, I don’t have time to get into it right now.” 

Keith shrugged. “I’ve got time.” 

Lance sighed with a dramatic role of his eyes. “Yes, but I don’t. If you haven't noticed, I'm holding a stupidly heavy sewing machine and have several outfits to make in three weeks.” To add emphasis to his point Lance adjusted his grip on the machine in his arms, feeling the discomfort in the flexing and relaxing of his muscles after being stiff for so long without him realising. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“You said you had to talk to me?” Lance cut Keith off with a tone he hoped didn’t sound too impatient, though knowing himself and his expressive tendencies, that probably wasn’t the case. 

“Right,” Keith sighed, rocking from foot to foot with a scrunched up expression. “Look, you have to tell Shiro to get someone else to play the knight.” Keith finally puffed out, frustration evident from every angle from his scowl to the hands firmly on his hips. 

Lance frowned, that’s a no brainer. “No.” 

“Why!?” Keith yowled, and Lance actually flinched at the sudden shift in his voice. Wide eyed, Lance watched as Keith’s fists balled by his sides and his breath shallowed. Was Keith about to hit Lance? Lance debated using the sewing machine as a shield, though it would probably break after one hit. “Why did you suggest me in the first place? I know it wasn’t a publicity stunt, so tell me the real reason. And tell me why you’ve been… like this lately!”

Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest, anxiety creeping up to choke the air from his lungs. “Like what?” He responded though it was clear through his tone that he was well aware of what Keith was referring to. 

“Like this ,” Keith said as he stiffly gestured to Lance standing quietly in front of him, “how am I yelling at you right now while you just stand there and take it? Why are you talking to me during lunch? Or showing me how to play video games? Or- or telling Shiro you’re trying to get closer to me?” 

The blood drained from Lance’s face. “Shiro told you!?”  

Keith’s own face dropped in horror. “It’s true?” 

“Of course it’s true! Why would I react like this if it wasn’t?” Lance hissed and his arms ached from holding that damn sewing machine for so long. 

“Do you like Shiro?” 

Lance nearly dropped the sewing machine then, knees buckling as he scrambled to catch it before it toppled to the ground and Lance lost half of his pathetic little team’s equipment. “What!?” 

Keith’s hands were fisted by his sides again and he glared up at Lance through his brow, though his face was more anxious than angry. “You like Shiro so you’re trying to be friends with me to get on his good side, is that it?” 

“No! Jeez, Keith, it’s not like that at all! Is it really so hard to believe I just want to be your friend?” 

Keith’s lips remained sealed but his breaths were short and quick and Lance’s stomach was suddenly knotting itself. Keith’s silence was a pretty solid answer.

“Alright, fine, and I cannot describe how much I hate that I’m admitting this to you right now, but if it’ll stop you from looking at me like that then I’ll say it.” Lance puffed and Keith’s scowl had already softened significantly with hesitant curiosity. 

“What?” 

“Keith, even though admitting it makes me wanna throw up, I was so jealous of you growing up you have no idea. When we first met and everyone thought you were the coolest person they had ever met I felt so jealous that the only thing I could think of was fighting you, which-” Lance cut himself off with a snort of laughter, “is the stupidest idea now that I think about it, but have I ever not been stupid?” 

Though Lance had sort of paused to let Keith have some input, a clever remark or anode insult, but Keith remained silent with an earnest and eager look on his face that just told Lance to keep talking. Whatever he was saying was the right thing.

“And I regret it now, and when I think about what might happen in the future, what might happen to…” Lance's chest tightened impossibly at the memory that always sat at the back of his mind, waiting to bite him whenever he met the gaze of Keith. Lance took a steeling breath. “So I’m trying to be normal with you. Though, by now I guess my normal is the furthest thing from normal to you.” Lance trailed off, a hot wave of embarrassment washing over him after his considerable monologue. 

Keith didn’t bask in his silence for too long though, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, it is weird,” he murmured, eyes dropping to the scuffed tiles under their feet, “but I could get used to it.” 

Lance almost felt lightheaded then, but he felt his face melt into a relieved smile. “Yeah?” 

Keith only shrugged, attempting to hide his bashfulness as he casually turned to walk back down the hall. “We should probably head back, everyone’s probably awaiting their noble knight .” 

“Right,” Lance replied, sliding into step with Keith with a smirk, “they’re probably looking for you too.” 

“That wasn’t funny.” Keith scoffed with a disapproving sideways glance. 

“Oh, but you love it.” Lance teased and was sure he imagined the glow of Keith’s cheeks as he turned away.

Chapter Text

April 21st, Thursday

20 days

One thing Lance had to be careful of since travelling back in time is pop culture. It was painfully easy to reference something that hadn’t happened yet, like referencing a movie or some viral video, even apps that hadn’t been made or celebrities who hadn’t yet made their debut. For Lance, the hardest thing was music. Too often he found himself breaking into song, as he so often did either way, only to realise that the song he was singing wasn’t going to come out for another couple years. To dodge this issue, Lance had been listening to older music. Music from the nineties to the sixties, and he realised that he had really been missing out. 

So Lance had made it a habit to have music almost always playing in his idle moments, like Thursday morning when he was teaching Ryan and vaguely Romelle – though she was preoccupied with her sketches – how to do someone’s measurements. Ryan stood a step away from Lance, eyes narrowed in concentration and notebook in hand as he watched Lance measure a disgruntled Keith. 

Keith’s eyes were thrown to the heavens as Lance manhandled him, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him to face away. Lance unrolled the measuring tape over Keith’s shoulders, giving Ryan a glance every so often as he spoke to make sure he was paying attention. Not that Lance ever expected Ryan to not be paying attention, he always watched what Lance did with impressive sincerity. Lance could tell Ryan to watch a wall of fresh paint dry and Ryan would observe it like a football game.

“When you’re measuring the shoulders you wanna follow the natural curve starting from one shoulder joint to the other,” Lance was explaining, pausing to give Ryan the measurement which he dutifully dotted down, before moving onto the next. 

Lance was quietly singing to himself as he turned Keith back around, not turning as he spoke and snaked the measuring tape around Keith’s neck. “You should really measure the neck first, I forgot. You wanna have it snug, but not too tight,” Lance explained, adjusting the tape around Keith’s throat and feeling the burning heat of his skin under his own fingertips. “Sorry if my fingers are cold,” he muttered.

Keith’s eyelids fluttered like he was trying to blink a speck of dust out of them. “I- uh, no. They’re fine.” 

Lance flashed Keith a small smile, releasing the tape from around his neck and moving to take the notebook off Ryan. He made a short comment about excusing his inability to draw before sketching out a crude rendition of a shirt and scribbling in Keith’s measurements, all the while mumbling along to whatever song was playing at that moment. Some old Spanish song he remembered Luis having an obsession with at some stage. Lance couldn’t listen to the song for years, but after living away from his big brother for over a decade it became one of Lance’s favourites. 

“You have a nice voice.” 

Lance looked up from his sketching to Ryan whose face was stoic as ever, maybe too stoic. He didn’t look at Lance, only staring quietly at the notebook Lance was holding. Lance let out an awkward huff of laughter, flashing Ryan a sheepish smile before returning to his notebook. He drew a dreadful pair of trousers, but it was only really an outline anyway. 

If it was Hunk or Pidge or even Allura complimenting him, Lance would be quick with the sarcasm and the boasting. But now, with Ryan standing there so awkward and robot-like, Lance suddenly had no such motivation. “I’m no professional.” Was all Lance replied, handing the notebook back to Ryan who took it with a small nod. 

“I think it’s nice to listen to.” Ryan spoke quietly, finally lifting his eyes to look back at Lance. “I’ve always liked the sound of the Spanish language.” 

Lance thought for a moment, almost wanting to turn to Keith just to say, “are you seeing this too?”, but he refrained from that and instead responded to Ryan. “I do think Spanish sounds much nicer than English. Though I am pretty biased.” 

Ryan managed a small, bashful smile as he nodded in agreement. “I actually studied Spanish for a while. Not much, and I was self taught too.” 

“Oh? Why don’t you show me some of your Spanish?” Lance mused, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to face Ryan. 

Ryan looked like he regretted mentioning his basic Spanish knowledge immediately, an anxious expression consuming his features. “I don’t really…” 

“Oh come on, nobody else in this room speaks Spanish so even the bare minimum will impress me,” Lance insisted, waving nonchalantly and hoping his smile was casual. 

“Uh…” Ryan hummed before eventually mumbling, “ Eres un gran profesor… ” 

Lance nodded enthusiastically. “ Gracias, your pronunciation is actually really good. Estoy impresionado, I’m impressed.”

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, seeming to debate his words again before continuing, “ Tienes una voz encantadora .”

Lance’s lips split into an awkward grin, delivering a lazy punch to Ryan’s shoulder as he giggled out, “ Qué halago, ” He gleamed, and upon seeing the buffering expression on Ryan’s face he laughed. “Sorry, I’m flattered, me siento halagado .”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully. “ Me siento halagado …” He repeated slowly. 

“Am I still needed here? Or is this a Spanish lesson now?” 

Lance turned to Keith and was rather ashamed to realise he had almost forgotten he was there, and judging by his expression Keith seemed to realise the same thing. Keith scowled, but Lance only scoffed before dropping to his knees in front of him. 

“Oh stop whining,” Lance grumbled without malice. He flashed a smirk up at Keith to make sure Keith realised he was playing, but Keith only glanced down at Lance for a moment before jerking his head right back up, cheeks glowing red and a mean glower on his face. 

When Ryan excused himself to join James who had been yelling at him from across the room, Keith turned to Lance with a suspicious frown. “What did he tell you? In Spanish, I mean.” 

Lance almost felt shy sharing it, but after he and Keith’s breakthrough it felt right to share. Friends shared secrets, even if it wasn’t exactly a secret what Ryan said, even if it was in the confidence of another language. “He said I’m a good teacher…” 

Keith watched Lance knowingly. “And?” 

“And,” Lance droned, “that I have a lovely voice, I guess.” 

“You’re making that up.” Keith scoffed, but his eyes roamed almost offendedly towards Ryan. 

“Please, I know my voice is amazing. I don’t need to make up conversations to prove it.” Lance gloated, but he shimmied closer to Keith with a thoughtful frown. “You don’t think he…” 

“ No… no…” Keith shook his head adamantly and Lance nodded along, though neither of them seemed sure of themselves.

April 22nd, Friday

19 days

Lance watched the sky slowly fade from a cool blue to a cosy red through the window of the Holts’ living room. Matt was clutching the controller so tight his knuckles were white, Pidge and Allura clinging onto him from each side. Hunk was huddled behind a blanket, peeking through a gap in his finger as Shiro snored peacefully on the couch beside him having long given up on trying to play the game. He probably had an early morning, taking his directorial job way too seriously. 

Lance sat at the end of the couch, not fully invested in the game despite himself. Maybe he was tired after such a hectic week, juggling between keeping Keith happy, preparing for the play and catching up on school work he hadn’t had to do in a decade. And now that he thought about it, how long had Keith been gone? He had been in the bathroom for easily ten minutes now. 

Lance frowned, pulling himself from the couch and edging his way out of the room. He left completely unnoticed thanks to the tense scene on the TV, slipping out of the living room before making his way to the bathroom. Not surprisingly, the bathroom was vacant. Lance glanced around the hallway, checking the kitchen and peering through the French doors to the yard to still find no sign of Keith. Finally Lance made his way outside, opening the front as quietly as he could before poking his head outside. 

Lo and behold, Keith sat on the steps to the front porch, staring ahead into the quiet street. Every so often a car would drift by and while Keith’s head didn’t move, Lance figured his eyes did, following each one. Or maybe he was watching the sky, it was pretty amazing. Lance found himself watching for a while, simply taking the sight in before tentatively stepping out into the evening. 

“You sneak out here to jam out?” Lance joked, almost guilty at how Keith flinched and spun around. 

“Lance,” he replied simply. Keith’s eyes followed Lance as he stepped over and took a seat beside him, leaving a gap that felt all too noticeable even though it really wasn’t all that big. 

“You never came back,” Lance said as he hugged himself. The air wasn’t exactly cold, but it was crisp and definitely nipped at Lance’s skin which had been wrapped snugly in a woollen blanket only moments ago. 

“Right,” Keith breathed, eyes casting themselves back out onto the street. 

Lance continued to watch Keith, his pale skin capturing the soft glow of golden hour. Lance had to admit that he was quite beautiful in that moment, though he’d never speak that truth aloud. “You okay?” Lance spoke in a voice so soft he surprised himself. 

Keith swallowed, and Lance studied every twitch of every muscle, highlighted by the shadows cast by warm sunlight, as if one of them could give him all the answers in the universe. “I’m fine.” 

Lance pursed his lips, turning to watch another car pass before looking back to Keith again. “I mean, I’m no expert, but I don't think people who are fine disappear to the porch for ten minutes when they say they’re going to pee.” 

Keith’s eyes flit back and forward, a frown on his brow. He doesn’t speak, but his gaze was distant, as if he was trying his best to come up with something. Lance understood the feeling well, shrugging and leaning back on his elbows on the porch steps. He let his head drop to the side as he looked to the sky, admiring the watercolour splashes across it. 

“Where do you see yourself in the future?” Keith finally speaks and Lance’s head lifts to attention again. Keith still hasn’t looked at him. 

Lance hums, throwing a few optimistic ideas around in his head but ultimately coming up empty. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Nope. But I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be pretty terrible.” Lance sighs and then he’s lost in thought, staring mournfully out on the darkening street. His eyes no longer process the passing flash of headlights, his chest tightening as his mind drifts away into memories past which have now become things yet to be. 

“It won't be.” 

 “I don’t know,” 

“Well I do.” Keith cut in, turning his body with his head as he levelled Lance with his eyes. “Because if someone like you has a terrible life then there’s absolutely no hope for me.” 

Lance looked over to Keith who had finally torn his eyes from the empty street. His face, half cast in shadow, was twisted up into a scowl and Lance wondered just how he had upset Keith in his own self depreciation. 

Lance watched Keith carefully. “Someone like me?” 

Keith nodded. “Yeah, someone like you.” 

Lance waited for Keith to elaborate but it never came. He scoffed, lolling his head to the side again. “What about me?” 

A flash of hesitation passed over Keith’s face and he turned to face the street again. Lance was about to dismiss the topic altogether, but Keith began to mumble, “Someone so shamelessly persistent maybe?” Keith began, and now that he had begun it seemed the words couldn’t stop spilling. “How many times have I run away from you, avoided you, insulted you, and you still keep following me around and bothering me.” Lance wanted to jump in with a playful quip, but Keith continued to speak. It seemed that even if he found the breaks he wouldn’t be able to stomp down on them. “And you’ve got a terrible sense of humour. I mean, sometimes you say things and I think that everyone just laughs out of pity. But you still say it, and you’re never embarrassed or ashamed, you just try again. You like to make people smile. And you make people happy.” 

Lance felt the tightness in his chest slowly unravelling, every muscle in his body relaxing but his heart, which inexplicably began to flutter in Lance’s chest. Lance felt himself get emotional, he felt the telltale prickling behind his eyes and he quickly reached up to swat at them as he watched Keith. Keith’s fingers laced together and his eyes dropped as he continued to mumble, a warmth so faint spreading over his cheeks that Lance wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t just the sunset’s light. 

Keith’s fingers laced together and Lance noticed his hands were shaking. “You know, when we had that… rivalry going on between us, you were the only person who really looked at me, even if it was only to rile me up.” A laugh slipped from Keith’s mouth, biting down on his lip to trap any following ones. “Honestly, I don’t care why you’re trying to be my friend. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be in the school play, I probably wouldn’t have talked to anyone this week except my own mother.” Keith swallowed, eyes fluttering as his gaze stayed cemented on his hands. “So someone… Someone like you is going to have a great life. Someone willing to give me a chance and be my friend… You’ll… you’ll be happy, Lance.” Keith finally dared to look up from his hands, the warmth on his face rapidly washing away as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on it. 

Lance’s vision of Keith began to blur and that’s when he realised he had been crying. Lance blinked through the tears, quickly wiping his cheeks dry as he attempted to act casual. At least it wasn’t that horribly ugly cry he did in front of Keith in the school toilet. Keith wasn’t sure if he had said something wrong, hesitantly reaching out as he debated the right approach to a crying Lance. Last time Lance had dove into Keith’s arms, this time he managed to hold himself back “Lance?” 

“I’m fine.” Lance forced between sniffles and sobs. 

“Are you sure?” Keith asked, his voice more awkward than sympathetic and Lance only snorted. 

“Jeez, why do I always cry in front of you?” Lance sighed, crumbling into a tired fit of giggles as he shook his head. 

Keith was never good with words, instead deciding to knock Lance’s knee lightly with his own. Lance gave Keith a smile, wobbling and fragile but warm with sincerity. Lance sighed, shaking his head and throwing it back to stare at the darkening sky. How had he misunderstood Keith so much? He was really just a lonely kid who didn’t know how to process his feelings and Lance was jealous that everyone thought he was cooler than him ? Lance thought he was a stuck up jerk and yet Keith just delivered a monologue on how amazing he thought Lance was. 

 “Thanks Keith.” He sighed into the crisp spring air. He wanted to say the same to Keith, but knowing the future and knowing it all laid upon Lance’s shoulders to fix it made his stomach sink with anxiety and guilt and fear. But then he looked over at Keith who was staring contently into the sky and suddenly the fear and anxiety of the future started to melt away and Lance told himself, Keith’s right here, he’s alive, he’s fine. He’s right here. 

As the sky was finally consumed in a thick indigo blanket, Lance and Keith silently agreed they should make their way back inside the house. Nobody had noticed their long absence, still absorbed by the game. Lance and Keith shared a lingering look before settling back into their respective seats. Pidge quickly latched onto Lance as he sat down, pointing things out of the screen with excited and animated gestures, but Lance couldn’t coax his eyes to leave Keith, his mind flooded with too many emotions for him to process.

Chapter Text

April 23th, Saturday

18 days

Lance was beyond relieved it was finally the weekend; he didn't have to strain himself trying to talk to Keith or deal with the school play or scheme on how to hook up his friend with his current crush. Lance could instead do absolutely whatever he wanted, figuring he should give himself a day off – it was a Saturday. So, after waking up at a strangely sensible time and feeling amazingly refreshed (Lance chalked that up to his newly regained youthful vigour), Lance spent his morning helping his father and brother in the garden, did some baking with his mother and then watched some foreign film with Veronica(not his usual cup of tea but having gained an extra ten years of his life Lance felt like branching out). Lance even ended up with Rachel, exchanging classroom gossip as they crafted their respective tubs of their homemade skincare. Lance even divulged Shiro and Curtis’ secret romance, though Rachel had to take on an oath of confidence first. 

As the afternoon lazily rolled around Lance made his way to Pidge’s place. Hunk and Pidge were still busy with their robo-chef and Lance was quite aware of how useless he would be if he tried to help. Instead he brought them each their own tub of his facemask and some of the blueberry muffins he and his mother had baked that morning. 

Lance was laying on Pidge’s bed, Baebae contently snuggled into his side as he scratched her head. He watched Pidge and Hunk from their hunched positions on the floor, a mess of wires and bolts scattered around them as they fidgeted with something Lance could never understand no matter how many decades he regained. He dropped his head against Pidge’s pillow then, instead watching her ceiling as if it had wisdom to share. 

Lance’s mind kept wandering to the day before, to his conversation with Ryan. His thoughts swallowed by eyes the colour of morning coffee, eyes that watched him so earnestly when he explained something, eyes that looked away when he was complimenting Lance. Lance frowned at the wisdomless paint, constantly swinging back and forth on what to say, if he should say it and how he should say it before finally sighing, “I think someone in our class might have a crush on me.” 

Hunk and Pidge paused their work immediately, both looking up at Lance with wide owl-like eyes. Lance leaned back an inch, letting out a startled snort at their reaction. “You’ve noticed too?” 

Hunk and Pidge glanced at each other, blinking at each other as if they were communicating in morse code before looking back to Lance. They spoke slowly then, eyes squinted suspiciously. 

Lance sighed, head lolling to the side as he frowned. “I feel like he’s been kind of obvious about it…” 

“And… how do you feel about it?” Hunk spoke slowly like he was walking on very thin ice. 

Lance hummed to himself, looking back to the ceiling who he knew would give him no wisdom, but he searched either way. “I don’t… hate it.”

“Even though he’s a guy?” Pidge added, now resting her chin on her knee. She watched Lance with the same calculating look she gave her robots or her computer, like she was analysing every slight shift in activity. 

“I don’t know… I mean, I can’t stop him from feeling that way.” Lance grumbled, looking down at Baebae who snored away, blissfully ignorant. Oh to be a dog…

“Do you like him back?” Hunk asked rather anxiously, Lance giving him an odd look. Whether or not Lance liked Ryan back had little to no consequences for Hunk.

But Lance gave it some good thought for a moment. He wasn’t blind, he knew how attractive Ryan was. He looked like he was sculpted by a master of artists, his cheek bones were defined, his skin was flawless and smooth, and his face was just perfectly proportional. And he was nice too, sweet and kind and a good listener. He listened so carefully whenever Lance spoke, which of course was something he could appreciate as someone who never really knew when to stop talking. But Ryan never did talk back all too much, not like how Lance’s friends did, not like Keith had that night. 

“I don’t know,” Lance hummed, rolling onto his side and earning a grunt of dissatisfaction from Barbae. But she only readjusted herself against Lance’s chest and she was soon snoring again. “I mean, he’s pretty nice…” 

“Pretty nice? That’s all you have to say about him?” Pidge asked with the same anxious tone that Hunk had. 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’s nice, he’s great or whatever,” he scoffed, frustration and confusion building up in his chest that would leave no matter how deeply he sighed, “he’s perfectly nice! And yeah, I like hanging out with him, he’s fun to talk to and all, but I don’t really… know him.” 

“Well give him a chance! Get to know him!” Hunk said with eyes wide and more concerned than encouraging. 

“You think?” Lance muttered back cautiously. 

Pidge nodded along with her own worried smile. “Sure! I think it’s pretty unfair if you don’t give him a shot at all.” 

Lance couldn’t really argue with that logic, though the idea made him quite anxious. “I guess. I mean, I only really met him a few days ago. I might like him more the more I get to know him.”

“You what?” Hunk blurted out and when Lance looked back at his two friends they were watching him with horrified expressions. 

“Are you guys okay? You’re making really weird faces…” 

“Who– Who did you say has a crush on you?” Pidge stuttered out. 

“Ryan. Didn’t I say?” 

“No,” Hunk sighed, giving Pidge a look that was as hopeless as his voice. 

“No, you did not,” Pidge hummed back in an equally depressed tone.

They gave each other a long, worried look and Lance only rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what's up with you guys today but I’ll think about what you said.”

Hunk’s eyes followed Lance as he stood up, giving Baebae a pacifying pat on the head before stretching his arms over his head with a long groan. “I’m gonna head, but I’ve had a great time lying on your bed Pidge. Very comfortable. Good luck with your robot.” 

Pidge and Hunk watched Lance with faces that clearly said they wanted to say something but he pointedly ignored it, slipping out the door with a casual, “Later”. The rest of the Holts weren’t in so Lance let himself out, squinting in the bright evening sun of April. It was still quite early, and heading home already to sit around seemed a little boring. Instead, Lance decided to take the scenic route home. 

After about half an hour of aimless strolling, Lance found himself at the town park. He remembered the times when he, Hunk and Pidge would scavenge for branches to drop them in the river, racing them to see which one would emerge from under the bridge first. Despite how Lance usually lost he would always try to convince the others that it was his branch who had gotten through first, his branches were alway too heavy but he was convinced if they were heavier it would go faster.

A smile passed over Lance's lips as he remembered his earlier days. Sometimes after school on particularly warm days they would take a trip to the park, dropping their bags by the bridge and jumping from the bridge into the water below. Sometimes they got Allura or Shiro or Matt to join in, or everyone if they were free, and soon it would turn into a competition to see if Matt or Lance could do the best flip into the water. Sometimes they would go straight home, sometimes they would stop in the local newsagents and stuff their mouths with sugar until they were sick.

Lance’s nostalgic daydream was rather abruptly interrupted by a grey blur that Lance only just managed to spot in the corner of his eye before he was hit in the gut and sent tumbling back onto the ground. Lance was just thankful that he was walking on grass, the ache in the back of his skull only mild as an abrupt and uncomfortably wet sensation met his face. Lance's eyes darted open to meet a very close pair of brown ones. Lance let out a snort of delight, unable to contain his grin when he realised that it had just been a particularly friendly dog with no concept of boundaries. Still laying on the ground, Lance wasted no time reaching out to give the dog that looked more like a wolf than a pet a few scratches. The dog bent down and began licking Lance’s face, though he couldn’t bring himself to be disgusted by it, breaking out into a fit of giggles and he squirmed under the excited animal’s attack. 

"Lance?" 

The mystery person ushered the dog away, the beast giving Lance one final lap before trotting away to stand by its owner’s legs.The person stepped to the side, blocking out the sun so Lance could recognise who his saviour was. 

Of course . 

"Keith?"

Lance quickly pulled himself up from the ground, stumbling a bit on the way up but brushing himself off as casually as he could. 

"You okay?" Keith asked, reaching out and holding Lance's elbows to help him stabilise himself. 

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Lance laughed, taking a step towards Keith and the dog that stood by his side, “I’m guessing this is your dog. What was his name?” 

"Kosmo,” Keith said with a nod, giving the dog an affectionate pat on the head. He was so tall that Keith didn’t need to bend down to pet him. 

“He’s way bigger than I thought he would be,” Lance said, bending down and offering a hand out to Kosmo who gave it a curious sniff, “and heavier.”

Keith’s almost-smile withered and he flashed Lance an awkward look. “Sorry, really I have no idea what came over him. He’s never usually like this,” Keith mumbled but Lance was already crouching down in front of Kosmo and squishing his face. 

“He probably recognised me from how much I’m sure you’ve talked about me,” Lance mused, and upon seeing Keith’s tight expression, continued, looking at Kosmo, “whatever he’s told you about me isn’t true. I didn’t touch that bunsen burner, his homework set itself on fire.” 

Keith scoffed, but a smile was vaguely visible on his lips nonetheless. And as Lance glanced towards Keith, he allowed himself a small smile too. It still felt strange to talk so casually with Keith, yet at the same time Lance felt like it had never been any other way. 

Before either of them could speak again, both of their attentions were caught by someone else. "Keith, where did you go off to?"

Lance and Keith looked over to the woman, a tall and lean lady with short hair and eyes sharp and indigo. It didn’t take a genius to see the resemblance between the two, and it took Lance only a split second to recognise the woman from the many meetings with teachers throughout he and Keith’s ‘rivalry’.

"Mom,” Keith flinched, face glowing a pale shade of pink as the woman looked between the two with an expression that made Lance feel like she knew more about Lance than he did.“I was just talking to a friend," Keith said, gesturing to Lance awkwardly. 

The woman gave her son a smug grin before her eyes drifted to Lance. "Lance, right?” 

"Heh... yeah. I suppose you’d recognize me after I attacked your son so much,” Lance chirped back sheepishly, but Keith’s mother only gave him a cool smile as she extended her hand. 

“What can I say? You made quite the impression,” She teased as Lance took her hand, “and you can just call me Krolia.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Lance gave Krolia his best smile, figuring he really had to make up for his past actions. But then Krolia was giving them both an enthusiastic smile and Lance wondered if she had even the slightest grudge against him.

“Our place isn’t too far, why don’t you come over for dinner?” Krolia asked Lance and he wasn’t entirely sure he could say no. 

"Mom..." Keith hissed under his breath, shooting a glare at . 

"Come on, Keith." She insisted, her tone light and carefree, but the look she gave her son said he really didn’t have a choice either. 

Keith scowled, glancing at Lance with a weary look because giving him a reluctant nod. “It’s up to you.” 

It was only until after the awkward walk to Keith's home that Lance realised why Keith was so uncomfortable inviting Lance over for dinner: their apartment was tiny. The room they stepped into was a combination of the entire first floor of Lance’s house, just about bigger than his kitchen. Though Lance felt like it was more cosy than claustrophobic, eagerly taking in the small details and knick-knacks as Keith watched him with an uncomfortable frown. The place could be considered a little cluttered, but Lance was more than used to messy homes. Having grown up with four siblings and now having a niece and nephew coming in and out almost every day, this was what the McClains considered neat.

"Nice place, it's cozy..."

Krolia smiled, dropping her leather coat over the couch as she headed towards the kitchenette that lines the back of the room, separated by two thick beams on either side of it, splitting the room in half. "That's a way to phrase it. It's small but we manage, right Keith?" Krolia glanced back at Keith. Keith shrugged, rubbing his forearm with a frustrated frown on his face. Krolia's smile remained as she looked at Lance. "Why don't you two go to Keith's room while I make some food?"

Keith nodded silently, turning to leave. 

“Thanks Krolia!” Lance called as he went to follow Keith. 

She threw Lance a smirk. “Oh, and Keith!” Krolia called, flashing a wink at her son. “Leave the door open a crack, yeah?” 

Keith’s nostrils flared as he took a sharp inhale, grabbing Lance by the arm and dragging him out of the room. Lance was hastily shoved through the door before it was slammed behind him. Lance stumbled inside, looking back to Keith as he made a point to close the door quite firmly, cheeks a glowing red. Lance snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. taking in his surroundings. 

“Your mom’s cool.” He said sincerely, “I’m kinda afraid of her.”

Keith snorted, pulling off his jacket and throwing it onto the back of a desk chair. “Yeah, she’s great.” Keith muttered.  

“Bit strange that she said to leave the door open…” Lance murmured as he spun around 

The walls were black – of course – with the exception of one exposed brick wall. In the room there was just enough room to fit a bed, which was tucked under the window, a desk that just about fit at the end of the bed and a wardrobe that peeked open, overflowing with mainly black articles of clothing. There was a small unit beside the wardrobe too, an old record player on top with several plastic crates packed to the brim with old records to go with it. Lance flicked through them as Keith watched him, stepping over to watch over Lance’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know half of these bands but I guess that means you have good music taste.” Lance joked, flicking through the albums. 

“None of them?” Keith nudged Lance out of the way before plucking out an album. “TRex? Electric Warrior?” And when Lance shook his head he scoffed and fished out another. “Metal Health by Quiet Riot?” Lance shrugged. “You’ve heard of Creedence Clearwater Revival,” Keith insisted and Lance only stared at him. Keith scoffed, carefully pulling the record out of its sleeve and delicately placing it onto the player. As the first few notes played through the old speakers a smile appeared on Lance’s lips and he crossed his arms smugly. 

“Of course I know this song,” Lance scoffed, “everyone knows this.” 

Keith rolled his eyes with a lazy smirk. “Whatever,” he scoffed, throwing himself back onto his bed. 

Lance stared at the mess of posters behind Keith’s bed, his arms eventually coming up to cross over his chest. Keith smirked as he watched Lance. “You look like you’re in a museum.” 

Lance nodded. " Kill Bill ... good movie." 

“You’ve seen it?” 

“No…”

"Idiot..." 

Lance flashed Keith a grin, decided to take a seat at the desk, spinning the chair around so he faced Keith. Keith leaned against the headboard, staring directly at Lance while he continued to glance around the room despite already examining it. He might spot something new the second time around. Keith sighed, "this is too awkward."

Lance looked over to Keith. "Uh.. your mom is pretty cool."

“You already said that.” Keith gave Lance an unimpressed look but he only snickered.

"Is she... you know..." Keith watched Lance warningly as Lance struggled to find a good way to phrase his question. "Where’s she… from?"

Keith's glare softened as he leaned his head back against the brick wall behind him. His eyes remained on Lance as he spoke. "South Korea."

Lance's lips spread into a grin as his eyes twinkled in excitement. "Can you speak Korean?" Lance asked excitedly. 

Keith looked blankly at Lance before he said flatly, "No.” 

Lance withered, giving Keith an unimpressed tut. “Oh.” 

“My dad’s American so we always just spoke English. I mean, I know some from shows and movies I watched with my mom."

Lance glanced at a poster on the wall that Lance assumed was Korean due to the lettering being completely unfamiliar to him. A man running away from zombies, not exactly something you want watching you while you go to sleep. 

"What about you?" 

Lance perked up, his eyebrows raising questioningly. "Hm?"

"You're Spanish right?" Keith asked, his legs dropping so he sat cross legged. 

"Cuban, actually." 

Keith's eyebrows lifted. "South America?"

Lance nodded with a smile. "Yep. We visit family in Cuba every summer so I kinda have to speak the language."

Keith nodded, "I'm pretty jealous. I wish I could speak another language." 

"Never too late to learn." 

"I guess."

And once again the two were left with nothing to talk about. They weren't even sitting in silence for ten seconds before Lance was pulling himself up again, peering at the shelf with the two trophies, picking up one of the trophies and using the side of his fist to wipe away the dust so he could read the fading writing on the plaque. The writing made Lance's eyebrows lift in surprise, yet at the same time it was oddly fitting for Keith. 

“Under sixteen’s fencing champion?” Lance hummed in surprise, looking over to Keith who shrugged. 

“A dark part of my past.” 

Lance smirked, placing the trophy back on its designated spot on the shelf before taking the other one down. After cleaning the plaque of this trophy, more faded writing was revealed. ‘Baseball Blitz - Best Player’. Lance placed the trophy back with a scoff, wiping the dust from the trophies off his hands and onto his jeans. “Showoff.”

There was a picture frame between the two trophies that Lance barely noticed before, reaching out to the cracked frame and squinting down at it. The picture made Lance's lips crack into a smile. Lance was able to recognise the sparkling eyes reflecting behind the glass from anywhere - eyes which were usually shrouded in irritation and anger, but were glimmering with an excitement Lance had never seen before in this picture.

The picture was easily a decade old, and a young Keith was grinning up at the camera, a gap in his teeth and an oversized helmet hanging lopsided oh his little head, mullet still intact. Behind him was a tall man who was crouching down with his hand clamped over the helmet on Keith’s head. The man was flashing a bright grin, identical to the one of the mini Keith. While Lance already had an idea as to who the man in the picture was, the look Keith gave him when Lance glanced back solidified it.

Lance crawled to Keith’s side and sat down, a few inches between the two of them. Lance looked at the picture, his lips cracking into a small smile again as his slender finger found its way to the small boy in the picture. 

"So, baby Keith, huh?"

Keith leaned closer, nodding as he looked at the picture. "Yeah, my dad was teaching me how to play baseball. I was probably... 6 years old?" 

Lance nodded, continuing to look down at the boy in the picture. Keith let out a sigh, one of his knees pulling up towards his chest as he pointed to the helmet on the top of his head in the picture. "That's my dad's helmet, I'm sure I still have it somewhere. He gave it to me one day and I wore it every single day for months until I finally realised that people don't wear helmets on a daily basis." 

Lance looked over to Keith whose face was graced with a rare smile, the kind of smile that Lance wanted to hold onto for as long as he could. “Well, people who want to be really safe might.”

Keith flashed a reluctant smile in Lance’s direction and Lance may have glowed in that moment.

"Your dad played baseball?"

Keith nodded. "He played pretty much everything. He played baseball, soccer, football. He was even the coach of my baseball team for a few years..." Keith gave a small smile before nudging Lance with his elbow. "What about your family?" 

Lance sighed simply at the mention of his family, his obsession with them only being amplified since he reunited with them. "My family... is great. Sometimes I feel like I take them for granted, you know?" 

Keith hummed, nodding at Lance as he fished his phone out of his pocket and quickly tapped into his gallery to show some pictures of his family. Keith edged closer to Lance to better see the screen and Lance pretended not to notice. 

"That's me, obviously. You could recognise my handsomeness from miles away." Lance said, earning a dramatic eye roll from Keith. "And that's my little sister Veronica. You've probably seen her in school being a nerd and all," Lance's finger moved again, "These are my brothers Luis and Marco. They both graduated already, so you might not know them. Luis is working in my uncle’s company, and Marco’s becoming an ‘academic weapon’ in a local college, as he likes to say." 

Keith pointed to Lance's other sister. "That's Rachel, right?" 

"Bingo." Lance said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Keith's question. " Wait a minute, why do you know Rahcel?" Keith's lips curled into a playfully fed-up smile.

"And these?" Keith pointed to the people who were obviously Lance's parents, clearly avoiding the question. Lance threw Keith a suspicious look but moved on nonetheless.

"That's my parents. My mom makes the best garlic knots in the country. And my dad grows the garlic himself. So you can only imagine how delicious they are. I can't even imagine having anyone else as my parents." Lance looked at Keith with a teasing shrug. "Though I guess your parents are pretty cool too." 

Keith smiled at Lance in a way Lance had never actually seen him smile before, though Lance hadn’t exactly seen him while much before today.

Keith shrugged, sagging against the wall as he spoke quietly. "Don't tell her I said this, but my mom doesn't really cook. This is the first time she's actually cooked dinner in a while. I think she wanted to impress you." Keith smiled to himself. 

"You should come try my mom's garlic knots some time. Plus, you and Rachel seem to be good friends so she’ll probably enjoy your company." Lance joked, not even feeling himself slump against Keith.

"Sure, I'd like to try some Hispanic food..." Keith didn't really like garlic that much, though he wasn't going to admit that. 

Krolia eventually called them out for dinner, Keith ushering Lance to the bathroom to wash his hands first. The three of them sat in the living room, Keith on the floor, Kosmo curled up by his side, eyeing the food hungrily, Krolia and Lance on the couch. They gathered around a wooden coffee table, eating the spaghetti bolognese Krolia had prepared. She was practically interrogating Lance about his life, asking about his family, friends and school life, Lance happily answering her and asking his own questions. Keith remained mainly silent from his spot on the floor, though Krolia continued to shoot knowing smirks between the two boys throughout the meal. 

After the boys finished the dinner Krolia had made, she gathered the dishes and sent the boys off to wash their hands again. Lance never washed his hands before or after he ate, but he was a guest afterall and figured he should follow their rules. Lance washed his hands first, and while Keith washed his own hands Lance hopped up on the washing machine across from the sink and glanced around the quaint bathroom. The edge of the tub was lined with bottles, if Lance squinted he could read the scents on the bottles. 

He cracked a smile and lifted his leg, nudging Keith’s hip as he rinsed his hands. “We use the same shampoo brand,” he said. 

“What?” Keith shot Lance an incredulous look. 

Lance only nodded, a grin still slapped onto his face. “Yeah, but I’m more of a ‘coconut seabreeze’ guy. Cedarwood and lemongrass, though, that suits you. It fits the dark and brooding look you’re going for.” 

Keith rolled his eyes but the ghost of a smile from earlier remained. Lance wasted no time in getting comfortable on Keith's bed again , collapsing onto his stomach before rolling into his back, staring up at Keith who nervously sat down on the edge of the bed. How ironic, Keith was awkward and stiff, sitting at the edge of his own bed while Lance, the outsider, lay back, his arms tucked behind his head and his body splayed out comfortably. He definitely made himself at home too quickly. 

Eventually they took their positions from earlier, side by side and sagging against the poster covered wall. The two boys continued to talk quietly as if they were kids at a sleepover, trying to not wake up the adults. Their conversation consisted of small talk, teasing each other and their past fights and sharing stories about the people they knew. Neither boy noticed how their voices gradually grew quieter as the sky grew darker. 

"One time I saw Matt confess to three girls during one lunch break and get rejected by all of them." Keith spoke as he tried to hold in his laughter as Lance only winced and shook his head pitifully.

“I don’t think I’m in the place to make fun of him, I haven’t had the best luck with girls either.”  

After a while Lance slid off the bed to find the bathroom, peeking into the living room on his way back to Keith. Krolia sat alone in the living room with Kosmo curled around her feet, a hot drink coiled in her hands as she sat in silence. Lance was a bit concerned, but after seeing the small, absent-minded smile on her lips he figured she was pretty content in her own company. She seemed to sense Lance's eyes burning into her, turning to find the tanned boy standing awkwardly in the doorway. She flashed him a warm smile. 

"You boys sound like you're enjoying yourselves." Krolia hummed, taking a sip of her drink. 

Lance stepped into the light of the TV, hands tucked in his pockets. Something was playing in a foreign language, a language Lance now assumed was Korean. "Yeah, he's not the worst company, I guess." Lance joked and Krolia smiled easily. 

"It's nice that Keith could finally have another friend over.." 

Lance noticeably perked up at the mention of someone else, his hands pulling out of his pockets and rubbing against his trousers. "Another friend?" He asked, his eagerness too obvious. 

"You know Shiro, don't you? He's in your class. I'm pretty sure he's broken up one or two of you and Keith's fights." Krolia smirked behind her mug. 

"Yeah, sorry about that, by the way." Lance muttered awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

Krolia only chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ve never held it against you. And neither has Keith, by the way he talks about you." 

Lance's eyes snapped back to Krolia who seemed to know exactly what she was saying. She and her son seemed to have a way with their words. Brief but telling. "Keith talks about me?" 

Krolia nodded. 

"What does he say?"

Krolia sighed. "Sometimes good things, sometimes… not so good things." 

"I didn't think he would say anything good about me." Lance confessed, earning a hushed laugh from Krolia, as if she didn't want Keith to notice they were talking. Lance didn’t exactly want Keith to know either. 

"No, it might not seem like it but Keith has had plenty of nice things to say about you." 

Lance could feel his lips twitching up involuntarily into a smile as he shuffled forward in intrigue. "Like what?"

Krolia hummed, tapping the edge of her mug as she thought. "Nothing specific comes to mind right now. Besides, I don’t think Keith would ever forgive me if I go telling you all of his secrets. I’m just glad you two are getting along now." Krolia smiled fondly at Lance, just how she had smiled at her own son earlier. Lance couldn't help but smile back. 

"Anyway, I should probably get back to Keith. Enjoy your show." Lance hummed with a weak smile, shuffling away from Krolia, feeling her eyes on him as he disappeared into Keith’s room.

The rest of the time Lance and Keith spent together flew past surprisingly quickly. Neither of them paid attention to the time as they carelessly chatted and after a while a light knock sounded on the wooden door.

"Keith." Krolia spoke quietly as she slowly opened the door, poking her head through the gap, Kosma by her feet.

When Krolia caught sight of the scene inside her eyes immediately lit up in amusement. Keith was tensely sitting on his bed, cheeks hot and face twisted in panic. Lance was knocked out, curled up on Keith's bed having shifted in a half-asleep trance to use Keith's shoulder as a pillow, his arms wrapped around one of Keith’s. He did look undeniably comfortable, probably one of the many reasons Keith hadn't attempted to wake him up. Keith's eyes darted up helplessly to his mother as she walked in but Krolia could only let out a giggle. 

"Why don't you wake him up. It's late, his family’s probably looking for him." Krolia suggested, smiling to her son before closing the door behind her. 

It was no mystery to Krolia that her son had an interest in Lance. It was a pretty tame coming out, Keith was young and he had discovered that people in his classes were getting crushes. Keith confronted his father about this but still Keith never had a crush on anyone in his class. It wasn't until Keith was almost thirteen that he had his first crush. A boy in his class, which he was quick to tell his parents about. Not exactly him 'coming out' but rather him panicking to his family over his newfound feelings for his friend. Keith's parents only found this amusing and took Keith out for ice-cream after he had calmed down.

And now Keith had a potential special someone, even if this someone was the person who had caused Keith quite the amount of trouble in the past. Krolia felt many emotions; joy, anxiety, excitement, pride, relief. Especially relief. Relief that Keith could finally open up to someone. Krolia remembered when Shiro was introduced, but Keith convinced her that Shiro had his eyes on someone else, that their relationship was simply platonic. Krolia never saw Shiro again. Soon enough Keith returned to his isolation. Though Krolia had more faith this time. The way Keith would act around Lance, less defensive and skittish, gave Krolia hope that Keith could finally have someone special to him. 

"Mom," Keith's voice pulled Krolia out of her thoughts. "I'm gonna walk Lance home." 

Krolia smiled, crossing her arms over her chest with a nod. "Call me if you want me to pick you up. You don't need to rush home."

Keith smiled at his mother, glancing back to Lance as he drowsily stumbled towards Keith, rubbing his eyes slowly. Keith opened the door, gesturing for Lance to go ahead of him. Lance smiled sheepishly at Krolia before he stepped out the door. "Thanks for having me, and thanks for dinner - it was delicious!" As Keith stepped out, he looked back to his mother who gave him a quick thumbs up and a wink. This gesture would have likely been accompanied by a "go get 'em tiger" if Keith gave her the time, so he quickly scrambled outside after Lance to avoid the humiliation. 

After leaving the apartment block, Lance and Keith walked in silence, Lance following Keith despite Keith not having any idea where Lance lived. It took a while for Lance to wake up, though the bitter cold nipping at his skin helped speed up the process. The sky had grown dark, every breath creating a cloud of mist from their lips. Keith and Lance had their share of fun with this, imitating trains and breathing into each other's faces, shoving each other as they did so. Eventually they reached the park, now a grassy shell vacant of any people. It was nearing midnight, children were long asleep and the streets were almost empty. As Keith continued to walk he felt a sudden warmth clasp around his exposed fingers. Keith's eyes flickered to the source of heat, warmth quickly spreading over his cheeks and a dull ache surging through his heart at the sight of Lance's hand wrapped around his own.

"My house is this way." Lance jerked his head in a different direction and Keith nodded, spinning on his heel and following as Lance pulled him. Keith's eyes stared unwavering at his hand clasped together with Lance's, the other boy’s tanned skin contrasting greatly with his own pale complexion. He didn't move his hand in the slightest, figuring that Lance had forgotten in his exhausted daze that he had grabbed Keith, that if he didn't move Lance would keep holding him. 

With the stars casting a light that allowed the two boys to just about see each other, but not enough to clearly make out each other's faces, with the tranquillity and silence piercing yet soothing, with simply the knowledge of each other's surprisingly enjoyable company, Keith felt his chest bubbling with courage. Was there any better time than this? Keith took a deep breath to brace himself, straightening his posture before speaking as loud as he could bring himself to. 

"Lance, there's something I should tell you." He started, but just as Lance had turned to look at Keith an instrumental ringtone cut through the air. Lance flinched at the sudden music playing, absentmindedly dropping Keith’ hand as he quickly fished his phone out to answer the call. 

A hectic voice laced with a thick accent cried through the phone. "Lance! Have you any idea of the time?!" 

Lance rolled his eyes at his mother despite the smile that tugged at his lips. "It's fine Mama, it only got dark, like, an hour ago." 

There was a scoff through the call before Lance's mother spoke up again. "It's midnight!"

Lance paused, checking the time on his phone. "It's... is it really? I kinda fell asleep so..."

A long stream of words Keith didn’t understand began to spill from the speaker of the phone, all the while Lance listened with a lazy smile. "Where are you?" Lance's mother scolded. 

The voice behind the phone was replaced by the teasing tone of Veronica. "He’s in his rebellious phase..."

Lance bit the inside of his cheeks in annoyance. "I'm on my way home. I'm with a friend right now but I'll be back in a while." 

"Is it Hunk? Pidge?" Lance's mother was a huge fan of Lance's two companions to the point that she insisted she baked every time they came over. She baked for Lance too, but it was as if she was driven to bake for other people's children more - probably to impress them. Although that’s not too unlike Krolia cooking to impress Lance.

Lance paused for a second before replying. "No, uh, someone else…"

Rosa gasped understandingly through the phone. “Ohh, is it your crush? Should I leave you two alone?” 

Lance’s stomach flipped as he quickly glanced at Keith. Thankfully Keith didn’t seem to hear it. Lance turned away again and muttered irritatedly through the receiver. “It’s not like that!” 

Lance paused as his mother said something before looking over to Keith with a panicked look as he listened. His cheeks glowed with warmth and he shook his head. “No Mama, I told you it’s not like that I-” He sighed again, “Look, I’ll be home soon, okay?" Finally, with a relieved smile, Lance dismissed his mother and hung up, slipping his phone back into his pocket and looking back at Keith. 

"Sorry about that, but my mom… she’s a character." 

Keith nodded slowly. “What was your mother asking before that?” 

Lance frowned at Keith. “What?” 

Keith shrugged nonchalantly. “You said ‘it’s not like that’, what was she asking?” 

Lance let out a strange, strangled noise as his eyes jumped away from Keith’s gaze to literally anywhere else. He shook his head, attempting an equally nonchalant look and utterly failing. “Nothin’.” 

Keith couldn't find words to reply with, his eyes narrowing suspiciously and he breathed to argue. 

"Anyway," Lance began, rising to his feet before Keith could say anything else, "you can leave me here. We’re pretty close to my place. Plus, you shouldn’t walk all the way back alone." 

Keith nodded and stood up, looking Lance up and down before he took a hesitant step forwards. "Yeah... today was… okay..."

Lance allowed a small smile to pull at his lips, burrowing his hands into the warmth of his pockets. "Yeah, we should do it again."

With that the two boys left each other, Lance returning to the hectic buzz of his family that seemed to never sleep. As soon as he stepped through the door Lance was swarmed by his mother and Rachel, the two of them trying to force Land to talk about his date that he adamantly denied existed. When Lance woke up the next day he decided he wasn’t going to leave the house at all to avoid the risk of any more non-dates.

Chapter Text

April 25th, Monday

16 days

Something Lance never really did while he was in high school was walk to class with his sisters. Sure, maybe in the first year or two he would, but by the time Lance’s final year rolled around, he got into the habit of waking up about five minutes before he had to leave. Rachel and Veronica had usually long since left by the time Lance stumbled down the stairs and rushed out the door, the idea of breakfast before school becoming no less of a myth than the Lochness monster.

But Lance had turned over a new leaf in his second attempt, and one of the first things he had begun to do was wake up at a sensible hour and actually give himself time to make himself somewhat presentable for school. It was one of the first changes his siblings noticed in his behaviour, and as much as they joked about Lance having been replaced by an alien, there was no party left unsatisfied in the change. Breakfast chats and parental kisses goodbye in the kitchen were a pleasant addition to Lance’s morning that ultimately left him much happier on his commute – a commute that was now filled with gossip and lighthearted bickering with his sisters rather than lonely splutters for breath as Lance ran to make it in time before roll call. 

Now Rachel was explaining a messy breakup between two of her classmates in the middle of homeroom, her descriptive abilities leaving little to the imagination. Lance had to applaud her, he never realised she was such a good storyteller. Apparently when it came to petty classroom drama, Rachel’s vocabulary knew no limit. 

Finding a lull in the conversation, Lance debated asking his sisters about Kinkade. It didn’t feel like the time for an identity crisis with Keith’s life on the line and all, but Lance wasn’t sure there would ever be a better time to think about these things. He knew more than anyone else that the future was unpredictable (and pretty terrible sometimes because of it). 

“You guys know Ryan Kinkade?”

Rachel’s eyes unsurprisingly lit up, though Lance was surprised to see Veronica’s attention be equally as piqued. Rachel swooned dramatically against Veronica’s shoulder who in turn bumped against Lance who let out an unhappy grunt. 

“Of course I know Ryan Kinkade, every girl on this side of the country knows Ryan Kinkade.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Veronica muttered, adjusting the bag strap that dug into her shoulder, the added weight of her computer in her bag painful but definitely worth the effort in her opinion. Lance reached over, pulling his sister’s bag off her shoulders and throwing it over his own, earning a smile from Veronica. “But she’s not lying. He’s pretty popular, especially to those romantically inclined .” 

“Seriously?” Lance hummed. 

“Well, he’s not exactly unfortunate looking,” Veronica spoke with a sort of uninterested calculating tone that made it sound like she was analyzing a computer part rather than discussing a schoolmate. 

“He’s straight up gorgeous,” Rachel chirped.

“Yeah,” Lance found himself saying before he could process how it sounded. He flashed his sisters a nervous look. “I say this from a completely platonic perspective, don’t interpret that weirdly.”

“Pretty eloquent way to say no homo,” Veronica teased, but breezed past Lance’s comment nonetheless. 

With a sly smirk that was almost a mirror image of Lance’s own, Rachel craned her neck around Veronica to look at her brother. “I always thought that Keith was more your type.” 

Lance didn’t skip a beat in snapping back to that, reaching around Veronica’s back to shove Rachel’s shoulder, sending her stumbling a few steps. “Shut up!” Lance shouted indignantly, but Rachel only cackled back. 

“What? You guys were even on a date last night, weren’t you?” Rachel shot, using Veronica as a shield who took it with impressively restrained irritation. 

“It was not a date!” Lance shouted back with cheeks growing progressively warmer, from anger or embarrassment that wasn’t clear.

“Aha! So it was Keith last night!” Rachel jumped around her human shield to stick a finger in her brother’s face. Lance swatted the hand away with a grumpy frown, tucking his neck into his shoulders as he stomped along. 

“Back to our previous conversation,” Veronica cut it, knight in shining armour to Lance. “Why were you asking about Ryan all of a sudden?” 

“You don’t have a crush on him, do you?” Rachel joked. 

“No!” Lance was quick to bark back and the girls exchanged a victorious smile, succeeding in riling Lance up a bit. They weren’t expecting Lance to say anything else, and so their satisfied smirks were quick to melt away when Lance’s voice hesitantly rose up again. “But…”

Their eyes snapped towards Lance, Veronica’s eyes sharp and cooly expectant, Rachel’s wide and shining with excitement – a look very similar to Allura’s, and Lance cringed at the fact that he would draw similarities between his sister and the girl he used to worship. 

“But?” Rachel urged. 

“But,” Lance debated for only a few seconds what he should say or if he should say it, finding it too hard to resist confiding in his sisters. “Well, I think he’s got a crush on me.” 

When Lance looked at his sisters their expressions were an amalgamation of shock, excitement and disbelief. The silence stretched and stretched, Lance unsure of what to say next and infinitely relieved when Rachel spoke first. She was giggling, that kind of quiet and explosive giggle that escaped when you weren’t quite sure if it was appropriate to laugh but you couldn’t help it anyway. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Far from it.” 

“You’re sure?” Veronica added with her ever analytical perspective. 

“Even Hunk and Pidge agreed,” Lance said, though he decided to mention the rest of their weird conversation.

“Damn,” Rachel sighed, “why are the good ones always gay?” 

“You don’t know, maybe he swings both ways.” Lance added helpfully. 

Rachel shot him a playfully grateful smile. “Thanks, bro.” Lance reached around Veronica and gave Rachel a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“And what about you?” 

Lance looked from Rachel to Veronica and felt an unease grow upon him. Veronica was looking at him like how she looked at her work when she came across a particularly interesting math problem, the type that has more letters than numbers. 

“What?” Lance asked, almost hesitant to reply. 

“Well, how do you feel about him?” Veronica expanded and Lance actually took some time to think about how he should reply. His previous thought still stood, even after a sleepless night of deliberation.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I like him like that.” Lance muttered back, pulling on a loose thread on Veronica’s bag strap. Veronica caught his fidgeting and took her own bag back, Lance’s shoulder glad to feel the relief. “But it kinda sucks for me to turn him down without giving him a chance.” 

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to test the waters. Try it out and see what you think.” Veronica spoke with a nonchalant shrug, a shrug heavily weighed down by her bag that made the simple action feel like a workout. 

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…” Lance hummed back, feeling a bit more optimistic hearing Veronica’s opinions align with his own, even if that action following was something that he had no idea how to approach. 

But then Rachel was reaching out to push Veronica back and look at Lance with wide, almost erratic eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” she spluttered, looking between her sister and brother, “Was I born yesterday? Do you even like guys?” 

Lance blinked. “Well… well, I don’t know.” 

“Dating Ryan will help him figure that out.” Veronica added matter-of-factly and her siblings’ faces dropped in response. 

“ Dating? I never said I would date the guy,” Lance stepped in, though was largely ignored. 

“He can’t do that!” Rachel squawked at her sister. “He can’t use Ryan to experiment with his sexuality! You can’t play with people’s feelings like that!”

“He’d never have to know he was part of an experiment, Lance can just let him down easy if he doesn’t like him.” Veronica argued back, her tone uncaring and dismissive as if Rachel were a child arguing about the best ice cream flavour. 

“That’s heartless.” 

“It’s logical.” 

“That’s barbaric!” 

“Guys!” Lance yelled over his sister’s bickering, a sense of impending doom filling his stomach as they rounded a corner and the school came into view. “As much as I usually enjoy your moral debates, this conversation has a time limit.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” 

Rachel scoffed, throwing her hair over her shoulder with a frustrated huff before stepping around her to walk by Lance’s other side. Crowds of other students began to gather around them, Rachel leaning closer to her brother to avoid any prying ears. 

“Figure out what you want before you make a decision you’ll regret. I’ve been with plenty of guys because I thought I would like them eventually. Trust me, it doesn’t work that way.” Rachel explained as they walked through the school gates, walking towards the wide, teen swamped stone steps of the front entrance. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know what I want,” Lance attempted to argue, but Rachel cut in. 

“Well you shouldn’t make other people suffer so you can figure it out,” she hissed with a swat to Lance’s ear. He gave her a scornful scowl.

Veronica’s eyes were unfocused, legs carrying her on autopilot as her brain occupied itself with theorising. “You clearly don’t dislike the fact that he likes you seeing as you’re considering dating the guy,” she muttered, huddling closer to her siblings. The three of them looked odd now, all hunched into a small circle as they shuffled up the school steps. “I think it’s safe to assume that Lance isn’t entirely straight.” 

“Just like Mom always suspected,” Rachel added solemnly, facade melting into giggles at Lance’s offended whining, masculinity attacked. 

“But whether or not he likes Ryan is up for debate. And since experimenting is off the table,” 

“Because it’s evil,” Rachel cut in. 

“We’ll have to find another approach.” Veronica trailed off thoughtfully as they walked through the front entrance together. 

Once through the doors, Rachel was immediately dragged away by her friends who already had an update on the break-up fiasco she had been updating her siblings on earlier that morning. Veronica gave Lance a measured look before nodding curtly. 

“Leave it with me,” she said before spinning on her heel and marching away to her homeroom. 

Lance’s walk to his own homeroom was mind numbing and headache inducing. He thought about what he was doing, about his priorities. Grandpa Time told him he could do whatever he wanted in his second turn, so why couldn’t he do this? His dating life was a disaster in the future anyway, and while he wasn’t sure dating guys was the solution for fixing his terrible luck with romance, it was a worthwhile hypothesis. 

But then there was Keith, Keith who had just about two weeks now until his mysterious demise. Should Lance really be taking this time to focus on self discovery? But then what else should he do? Sitting around and worrying about Keith would do little to stop whatever was going to happen. It was his actions on the actual day Keith was supposed to disappear that mattered, why should it matter what Lance did before? In fact, Lance might not have an opportunity like this again in the future. He was surrounded by people who knew what they were talking about, who were going through similar crises of their own. Wouldn’t this be the perfect time?

“Lance?” 

Lance almost jumped out of his own skin, looking up and realising that, lost in thought, he had already seated himself at he and Shiro’s makeshift classroom in the corner of the play-prep messed homeroom. He saw Shiro bending down before him with a worried expression on his face. Shiro had such a reassuring look about him, a look that had Lance’s monologue melting away in an instant as a smile found its way onto his face. 

“Sorry Shiro, I didn't hear you come in,” Lance breathed, reaching over the side of his desk and pulling his books out of his bag.

“It’s fine, I was just asking how things were going with Keith,” Shiro spoke casually, carefully disguising the overwhelming curiosity that burned in his mind.

“Oh, Keith?” Lance blinked. “Things are… fine.”

“Keith told me you were at his place on Saturday.” Shiro mentioned in a casual manner, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile. 

“He did?” 

“He did.” 

Lance cleared his throat. It was a normal visit, really. Lance didn’t expect Keith to turn around and tell Shiro, or for Shiro to tell it to Lance in an empty classroom as if divulging some incredible secret. Or, more likely, Lance was reading too much into a normal situation as he found he always did these days. So Lance shrugged. 

“Oh, yeah. I mean…. I ran into him in the park and his mom invited me over for dinner so we just hung out for a while.” Lance spat out, flipping open his textbook as if it would make him look more nonchalant about the whole thing. He was really quite proud of the step he took with Keith, even if it was all thanks to Krolia. This progress made Lance feel a little less guilty about giving so much energy to the Kinkade crisis. 

Shiro’s mouth twitched up into a smile. “Krolia cooked for you?” 

Lance snorted, his own smile appearing. “Yeah, I thought it was great but Keith said she only really cooks when guests come over.” 

“Yeah, when I went over she made us spaghetti bolognese-“ 

“She made us that too!” Lance jumped in, Shiro’s eyebrows shooting up and eyes brightening. “But damn, some of the best spaghetti I’ve ever eaten.” 

Shiro’s smile slowly faded and he let out a sigh too heavy for someone his age. “Me too.” 

A silence began to bubble up between them, textbooks abandoned on the desktops, open and expectant. Shiro was the first to wake up from their respective trances, slapping a hand down on his desk and turning to Lance with a determined look. 

“Anyway, polynomials!” Shiro chirped as if the word didn’t send a sharp dread shooting down Lance’s spine. 

“Right,” Lance drawled. 

“Well we briefly touched on them yesterday, I gave you some-” 

“Shiro?” 

Lance thanked the heavens above for the divine intervention, both he and Shiro’s heads lifting to follow the voice. Lance had to swallow back his smirk as he watched a nervous head poke through the door. Lance almost didn’t recognise Curtis, his usual ferocity when dealing with his other classmates being replaced with a mouse-like timidness in the silence of the almost empty classroom. Shiro smiled, the math beneath his nose completely forgotten in an instant. 

“Curtis.” He spoke with a pleasant surprise that Lance hadn’t heard from Shiro since Lance asked him to be his tutor. 

Curtis looked between Lance and Shiro a couple of times before his lips wobbled into an awkward half-smile and a warm glow blossomed over his cheeks, spreading to his ears. “Sorry, am I interrupting your lesson?” 

Shiro shook his head quickly, slapping his textbook shut and jumping to his feet in no more than a blink. “No! Not at all!” Shiro practically barked out, straightening up awkwardly and clearing his throat as if it would make him seem more collected. “Do you, uh, do you need something? Or…” 

Curtis shook his head just as frantically as Shiro had. Lance wouldn’t be surprised if they were both perpetually concussed the way they constantly shook their heads at each other. 

“No! It’s fine, I was just going to run some things by you since you’re here early. I forgot you were teaching Lance today, sorry Lance,” Curtis turned to Lance as he spoke and Lance immediately hated being dragged into their anxiety riddled conversation. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lance quickly said back. “Go ahead, Shiro. I’ll just look over the notes you gave me last week.” 

Shiro shot Lance a contemplative look before looking back up to Curtis. The decision between the two was quick, Lance was pretty sure Shiro had once taken longer to decide which pencil to use. Lance was almost offended, but when he saw the way Curtis practically melted at Shiro’s approach, or how Shiro’s smile suddenly grew nervous as he stepped into the corridor, Lance only felt contentment.  

“Well,” Curtis began and Shiro saw there was a thick binder in his hands. “Well, uh,” Curtis repeated, trembling fingers struggling to slip between the pages. “I was looking at the finances, and uh,” He trailed off, Shiro only watching with a patient smile. His smile seemed to do little to unnerve Curtis like how it usually helped others. In fact, Shiro was pretty sure the smiling only made Curtis’ hands shake more. “I was looking at the, uh,” 

“The finances,” Shiro smiled and Curtis looked up at him. Curtis looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, and while he smiled up at him, Shiro could see the telltale downward twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes, thank you,” Curtis puffed out. He looked back down to his binder, seeming to grow more anxious by the second. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shiro interjected and Curtis held his breath. But Shiro only gestured towards the thick binder in his arms with a trained curiosity in his voice. “But that is an incredible binder.” 

Curtis paused, blinking up at Shiro for a short moment before he finally smiled. A small, shy smile that seemed to be reserved for private moments with Shiro like this. He found the will to calm the tremor in his hands, attempting a carefree shrug and swallowing down the flattered giggle that grew at the back of his throat. 

“Oh, it’s a mess,” Curtis breathed, turning the binder over to a random page. 

Shiro stepped around to stand by Curtis’ side, resisting the urge to completely close the distance between them. He looked down at the binder and was letting out an amused snort before he realised it. Curtis wasn’t exactly lying when he said it was a mess – there were notes scratched down on a variety of types of papers, stuck down haphazardly with combinations of glues, tapes and staples. There were note-to-selfs scribbled on every page and, anywhere he could fit it, Curtis had scrawled down some form of doodle. It was an amalgamation of all of Curtis’ ideas thrown wherever he could, and while it was very much not Shiro’s style (he couldn’t even bring himself to draw a line without using a ruler), Shiro was actually amazed at it all. He took the liberty to turn a few pages, skimming each one as he did while Curtis watched him in something akin to muted reverence. 

“Sorry, you probably can’t make sense of anything-”

“No, no,” Shiro interrupted with a distracted mumble. “It's brilliant. It's…  busy, but it’s nice.” 

Curtis looked up at Shiro in a way that made him feel winded, like Curtis had just delivered a swift punch to his chest. But he didn't. He only stared up at Shiro with shining admiration, like Shiro was the night sky, and Curtis’ eyes reflected every star. 

Curtis set his jaw and, with the fleeting courage the moment had granted him, spoke. “Would you want to go out? Somewhere?” He blurted, and after a moment of deliberation added, “After school? Today?” 

Shiro shot Curtis a smile. It wasn't quite the brotherly smile he would give Lance or Keith, and it wasn't the polite smile he would offer a teacher when they thrusted another ‘small favour’ upon him. It was a smile he didn't have a name or purpose for, it wasn't even a smile he could control or replicate. It was just a smile that somehow Curtis managed to pull out of him whenever they spoke. His cheeks would ache, his heart would hammer in his chest to the point that Shiro feared cardiac arrest. But it was a smile he kept for quiet moments like this, alone with Curtis where no other eyes could spy and they didn’t have to be someone they weren’t, someone perfect, even just for a moment. 

“Yeah, sounds great.” Shiro replied, debating whether or not to touch Curtis, whether giving a pat on the shoulder would be too much or not enough.

“Okay,” Curtis said and suddenly seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He shifted from foot to foot, looking down at the binder that held all the details he suddenly couldn’t bring himself to share with Shiro. “You should go back to your tutoring. I’ll show you the, uh, the finances later.”

Shiro smiled. “Right, the finances.” 

Curtis chewed his lip, staring silently at Shiro for a second before blurting out a giggle. “Right.” He gave Shiro a mousy smile before stepping away and scurrying down the hall. 

Shiro didn’t stay to watch, instead quickly ducking back into the class room where Lance was waiting. Lance had a smug grin slapped over his face and Shiro immediately knew he hadn’t looked at the notes. Shiro slipped into the seat across from Lance, chin defiantly high, pretending nothing had happened. 

“So,” Lance hummed, leaning his chin on his hand as he stared at Shiro. “Those finances, am I right?” 

“Shut up,” Shiro grumbled and retreated behind his textbook.

Chapter Text

April 25th, Monday

16 days

“The script is done!” 

Lance jumped away from his sewing machine, a sharp pain shooting up his spine in protest of the dreadful posture he had been sitting in for the past couple of hours. School had already finished hours ago and almost everyone had immediately set up camp in their makeshift studio to work on their own tasks for the play. Lance had taken a seat by his sewing machine and had since not gotten up once unless it was to switch fabric or remeasure a piece. He should have been more conscious of his body’s physical wellbeing, especially considering how much he suffered with it in the past (the future? Lance wasn’t too sure how to refer to that strange in-limbo period of time). Though he often procrastinated starting new projects, once he had thrown himself into it, it was hard for Lance to pull himself out. Ryan quietly asked if he was alright, Lance brushing him off with a smile before they turned their attention back to the epicentre of activity. 

Ezor held the final version of the script above her head, the crowd that had quickly grown around her already pawing at it eagerly. After succeeding in calming the mob, Ezor began distributing the scripts around the class, every team getting their own copy. Romelle wasted no time flipping through the pages, to “help her creative juices flow” as she had told Lance. Her squeals and giggles were hard to ignore as Lance attempted to resume the costume he was working on and curiosity eventually consumed his anxiety to get the costumes done as quickly as possible. Lance abandoned his machine and moved around to the other side of the desk, craning his neck over Romelle’s shoulder to read the script himself. 

“I love it! It’s beautiful!” Romelle sighed, hugging the booklet to her chest tightly before Lance had the chance to read anything. “The forbidden romance between Princess Plaxum and Prince Blumfump…” 

“What kind of names are those?” Lance scoffed, reaching to snatch the script from Romelle who gave Lance an unimpressed look in return. 

“Aren’t you the one who suggested the characters be aliens?” She chided. 

“Well, yeah but…” Lance mumbled, flipping through the pages, “still, they could’ve used normal names anyway.” 

Lance’s fingers came to a sudden halt, blinking purposefully down at the page he had almost skimmed past with abject horror. He let out a strangled squawk of shock, Romelle and Ryan watching him with bewildered eyes. 

“Lance?” Romelle stuttered, hand twitching out slowly as if she were approaching a ticking time bomb.

“I must be reading this wrong.” Lance breathed, turning the script around and shoving it in Romelle’s nose. “I must have very suddenly lost the ability to read, because there is no way that says what I think it says.” 

Romelle squinted at the page only a few inches from her face, skimming over the contents before feint realisation washed over her face. “Ah.” 

Before more could be said, another protest erupted from across the room. “ A kiss scene ?” Keith had cried in just the same amount of horror as Lance. 

“Why not? We can’t have a romantic play without a kiss!” Ezor bit back, stubborn scowl on her face as she glared at Keith. 

“I’m not doing it.” Keith huffed, either unaware of or unbothered by the shocked looks he received from everyone else. 

“What?” 

“I said I won't.” 

“Don’t be such a wuss,” Zethrid scoffed, stepping up beside Ezor with her arms crossed, “it’s only one kiss.” 

“In front of the entire student body!” Keith snapped back. 

A matter-of-fact Slav was suddenly adding to the conversation and only making the situation worse. “And the professors, parents, pretty much whoever else from the town buys a ticket…”

Keith’s lip twitched. “Great, now I’m definitely not doing it.” 

“You have to!” Ezor whined, Zethrid nodding stonily beside her. 

“Yes, a romantic play must contain a kiss scene.” Slav spoke, making not only Keith swell with rage. 

“Then you do it!” Keith snapped, shoving his script into Slav’s chest, the force sending Slav stumbling back a few steps.

“Keith…” Allura attempted to calm him, stepping over and placing a light touch on his elbow which he promptly yanked away. 

“I think the most important thing is our actors' feelings.” Shiro sighed, clearly already used to the bickering between the script writers and their stat.

Slav shot Shiro an unconvinced look. “Hmm, I don’t know. If we omit a kiss then the cathartic effect for the audience will be decreased by 37%...” 

“Well, unfortunately cathartic effect isn’t my number one priority right now.” Shiro bit out through clenched teeth, seeming to force himself to breathe through his irritation. Lance watched with a mixture of shock and delight. Had he ever seen Shiro react to another person like this? 

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” Slav muttered back, flinching at the sigh of the sharp look Shiro shot in his direction. 

The air was tense in the classroom, students looking from one to another as they debated what to do next. People began to look to Shiro to appease the situation as always. Not only was he the one to usually solve whatever issues arose, he was also one of the only few people who seemed to actually get along with Keith. Shiro deflated, turning to Keith with a mollifying smile. 

“Why don’t you just think about it for a while?” Shiro hummed and Keith bristled. 

“They have already finished the script.” Allura added, sidling in beside Keith. She gave him her own sorry smile, seemingly unoffended by how he had previously brushed her aside.

“Well they should have asked us first before they wrote it into the script.” Keith grumbled and Lance nodded along enthusiastically from the sidelines despite his irrelevance in the conversation. 

“Just give it a couple days,” Shiro suggested, patting Keith on the shoulder in a way that said the conversation was over, “and if you’re still not comfortable then we’ll cut it.” 

“We could always do a bit of stage magic,” Curtis cut in with a sympathetic smile in Keith’s direction, “We could make it look like you guys are about to kiss but turn off the lights or close the curtains before you two actually touch.” 

Keith was still brooding under the anxious gazes of his classmates, but Curtis’ suggestion did seem to fractionally mollify him. He finally sighed and, not before sending a reluctant glance in Lance’s direction, gave a helpless shrug. 

“Fine.” 

Lance was shocked that Keith backed down so easily, his own blood boiling hotter and hotter by the second. He scoffed, turning to the closest person to him, who turned out to be Romelle, shaking his head disapprovingly. 

“This is supposed to be a family friendly play, nobody wants to see Keith and Allura kissing.” He shivered, just saying the words sending an uncomfortable sensation shooting through his nerves. 

“I think it’s romantic.” Romelle gushed and Lance only rolled his eyes.

“I don’t really have a problem with it either,” Ryan began with a shrug and Lance almost scolded him before he spoke again, “but it doesn’t look like either of the actors seem too happy about it.” 

Lance wasn’t exactly fighting for the comfort of the actors, ashamed as he would be to admit it. He was really arguing simply because he hated the idea for one reason or another, but now that he looked from Allura to Keith he realised Ryan was quite on the mark. Allura and Keith exchanged awkward looks, neither seeming too pleased at the situation. It only made Lance’s blood boil more. Lance trudged away from his table and stalked towards where Keith and Allura sat together, going through the final script with rather gloomy expressions on their faces. Lance sighed, dropping himself onto a seat across from the two. 

“I wouldn’t have given in so easily,” Lance hummed, giving a shrug he would have liked to appear careless if not for the fact that it was blatantly apparent that he cared way too much about the situation than he really needed to.

Allura gave a weak smile, shaking her head and speaking in an almost servile tone. “If it makes the class happy then I’m fine to go along with the original script.” 

Lance really didn’t expect much else from the pathologically people-pleasing princess of the class, instead turning to Keith with disapproval. “I expected a bit more fight from you, Kogane. Or do you only get energy to fight when it’s against me?” 

Keith only scoffed, slouching back in his chair as much as he could as if it would enhance his brooding. Lance heaved a sigh, shaking his head with disappointment at Keith and Allura. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you’ , his expression said as he rose to his feet and ambled back to his own work station. 

Lance was soon back to robotically sewing costumes, completely lost in his own thoughts as his brain functioned on autopilot. Why was a kiss so important for their play anyway? He could think of plenty of films he had watched where there wasn’t a single kiss – most of his favourites, in fact. Though, when he stopped to think about it, all of his favourite films did seem to have at least one kiss. But that didn’t necessarily mean it had to have a kiss to make it a worthwhile watch! He could only hope that the class would come to their senses sooner or later and realise that Keith and Allura kissing was quite possibly the last thing they would like to see on a giant, lit up stage. He hadn’t realised anyone had been talking to him until a hand clapped down on his shoulder, ripping him from his trance. Lance spun away from his work with a jolt, relaxing at the sight of Hunk’s tired grin. 

“We’re heading home, we’ve already been here five hours.” Hunk spoke, gesturing behind him to where Pidge and Shay were stacking painted boards against the wall. “You coming?” 

Lance glanced at the cloth he was sewing, debating for a minute before turning back to Hunk. “Nah, you guys go ahead. I’m nearly done with this piece anyway. I’ll just wrap it up here.” 

“We can wait.”

“No, no, go ahead. It’ll take me another twenty minutes or something, I don’t wanna keep you waiting.” 

“If you’re sure,” Hunk hummed, patting Lance on the shoulder before making his way back towards his team. 

Now that Lance was looking around he realised almost everyone had already left. The only people left were Shiro, Curtis, Ryan and himself, and Shiro and Curtis were probably only staying as a courtesy. Lance came to the guilty realisation that Ryan was probably staying only because Lance was too, reaching across to tap on the table in front of Ryan’s machine. Ryan looked up, fatigue clearly reflected in his eyes though he never spoke a word of it. 

“You should go home, it’s getting late.” Lance spoke with a sure smile. 

Ryan frowned. “What about you?” 

Lance gestured to the pile of fabric under his machine. “I’m nearly done here anyway, I’ll head home after I finish this.” 

“I’m nearly finished here too.” Ryan replied shortly. 

“You sure?” Ryan only nodded and Lance couldn’t help but smile. “Alright.” 

The room fell into silence once again, the only noise in the room being Shiro and Curtis’ infrequent utterances to each other and the mechanical humming of the sewing machines. It was quite a while later when Lance finally broke the peace in the room. He straightened his back, stretching his arms high above his head as he curled back over his seat, letting out a long and unnecessarily loud groan all the while. 

“Done!” He huffed, jumping to his feet and pulling the costume free from the machine. The others in the room perked up, watching as Lance held out the dress for them to freely admire. 

“Lance…” Shiro muttered, seeming as if he were only waking up from his own work-induced hypnotism, “I mean,” 

“That’s amazing, Lance!” Curtis breathed, jumping up to scurry over to where Lance stood. “It looks like it was made by a professional!” 

Lance gave a nonchalant shrug, trying his best to maintain humility in the situation. It was usual for him to brag in these situations but something made him want to refrain in front of this small group. 

“It just takes a lot of patience.” Lance muttered, giving Curtis a sheepish smile, “And measuring.” 

Curtis gave Lance a bright smile, Shiro finally coming over to admire the piece for himself. Lance was met by another wave of praise from Shiro and Lance felt like he was showing his parents a good test result. 

“And how are you doing, Kinkade?” Shiro spoke as Ryan stood up himself. 

“I’m just about finished too.” Ryan murmured, holding out the piece he was working on himself. “We just need to add the overskirt and then we’ll be finished.” 

“Ryan, thats-”  Curtis had only begun before he paused, watching as Lance stalked over towards Ryan.

Lance looked carefully over Ryan’s work, putting his own costume down to closely examine each seam and stitch. Shiro let out an awkward huff of laughter, stepping to Lance’s side and almost reaching out to turn Lance away. 

“Come on Lance, it’s only a beginner’s piece, don’t examine it.”

“No,” Ryan quickly said, “I’d rather he point out my problems now so I can fix it for future work.” 

“That’s an admirable stance, Kinkade,” Shiro muttered, “but mistakes are inevitable for anyone starting a new skill.” 

“Yeah, that’s cute and all Shiro,” Lance cut in, lifting a hand to silence Shiro before he could continue his motivational speech, “except I can’t actually see any mistakes…” 

“Seriously?” Ryan balked, watching Lance continue to look over the dress he made with amazement. 

“Seriously, it’s perfect. Your seams actually look neater than mine.” Lance snorted, grinning up at Ryan who held the dress with a steel grip. “Well done.” 

A shy smile wobbled its way onto Ryan’s lip, eyes dropping from Lance’s eyes to the dress between them. “Thanks.” 

“You need to be a seriously good teacher for your student’s first piece to turn out this good, too, Lance.” Curtis praised, this time Lance being the one to shrink back.

“Well, this seems like a perfect time to call it a day.” Shiro jumped in with a clap of his hands. “Wrap it up you two, it’s nearly nine o’clock.” 

“Geez, nine already?” Lance laughed, snatching up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “My parents probably think I’ve been snatched from the streets.” 

Shiro shook his head with an amused smile, he and Curtis turning to organise the notes they had left sprawled across their own work station. Lance then turned to Ryan as he gathered his own things. 

“What direction are you walking? I usually go past the river towards the park.” Lance asked. 

“I’m by the library, but I can go around by the river. It only takes an extra five minutes or so.” Ryan replied as he pulled his own bag over his shoulders. 

“Great, we can head together.” Lance grinned, giving Curtis and Shiro a brief goodbye before he and Ryan made their way to the school exit. 

They passed Mrs Balmera on the way who scolded the boys for staying so late without anything to eat, handing them each an orange before ushering them on their way again. The sun had already begun to set when the boys stepped outside, golden street lamps illuminating their way as they walked past the townhouses towards their own homes. Lance had wasted no time digging into his orange, Ryan peeling his own at a much slower pace. 

“Of course Mrs Balmera keeps a supply of oranges in her office.” Lance snorted as he popped a wedge into his mouth.

“It makes sense,” Ryan said, still only peeling his own orange, “if a student faints or anything sugar is good to boost energy.” 

Lance nodded slowly, turning to Ryan with a playful smile. “Plus they’re delicious.”

Ryan gave a small smile. “That is a bonus.” 

Lance threw another wedge into his mouth, letting the silence between the two stretch as he chewed. Usually Lance didn’t mind silence between two people, in fact he found it quite nice to walk alongside someone with only the sounds around them. He usually found it quite peaceful. Now, however, the silence seemed to be filled with deafening anxiety, like kinetic energy swirled around their heads with each step they took. 

“You know, you did a really good job on that dress. I’m impressed.” Lance finally spoke and Ryan looked at Lance with a distracted nod. 

“Thanks. You’re a good teacher.” 

Lance smiled, turning back to the path before them. The rest of the walk was filled with polite small talk; conversation about each other's hobbies, music taste, families and whatever else seemed to naturally come up. Lance learned Ryan had a younger sister, though Ryan’s relationship with his sister seemed a lot less turbulent than that of Lance and his own sisters. Ryan liked photography, describing the cameras he had in detail to Lance and even showing him some of the photos he had taken recently. The time spent was pleasant, though an uncomfortable undertone seemed to always seem present. Of course Lance knew the undertone’s source, it seemed unavoidable, so Lance attempted to ignore it and enjoy their conversation nonetheless. 

Eventually they made it to the river, the rushing water beneath them seeming to wash away some of the static anxiety that bounced between the two. Lance turned to face Ryan, leaning against the stone wall of the bridge with a tired smile. 

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lance spoke and Ryan nodded quietly. Met with only silence from Ryan, Lance felt odd walking away. Instead he spoke again, “Get a good night’s sleep, I’ll show you how to sew gloves tomorrow. It’s no easy task, but you’ve shown promise, my student.” Lance joked, feeling a modicum of relief at the small smile that twitched its way onto Ryan’s lips. 

“Sounds good.” He replied shortly, and after a moment of thinking, held out his hand. Amazingly he still hadn’t finished his orange, two wedges still wrapped in the skin. “Want one?” 

Lance shook his head, “Nah, I already ate mine, I don't want more than you.” 

Ryan shrugged, “I feel weird eating when you’ve already finished, anyway.” 

Lance debated it, eventually giving in and taking one of the pieces. “Alright, but if I wake up with orange skin tomorrow you’re gonna be the one to pay for the makeup to cover it up.” 

Ryan let out a huff of what Lance had learned was laughter. “I’ll accept that risk.” 

Lance smirked, savouring the last orange piece before giving Ryan a wave. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Right. Get home safe, Lance.” Ryan spoke, voice as warm and gentle as his smile and Lance felt his heart almost flutter in his chest. 

Lance opened his mouth to speak, stuttering over air before managing a quiet, “Yeah, you too,” 

Lance fought with every muscle in his body not to turn around as he crossed the bridge. Instead he kept his head down, so purposefully staring at the pavement beneath him that he didn’t notice the other body fall into step behind him. It wasn’t until they spoke up that Lance even realised they were there, heart almost jumping out of his mouth as they spoke. 

“What are you doing out so late?” 

Lance let out a shriek, almost tripping over his own feet as he jumped away from Rachel who’s lips held a sly smirk. Lance let out a loud sigh, shoving his sister’s shoulder. “You scared the crap out of me.” 

“You weren’t kidding,” Rachel hummed, Lance’s cheeks growing warm at her words, “he’s totally into you.” 

“Tell me about it.” Lance muttered back. 

Rachel frowned at her brother, clearly surprised at the solemnity of his response. She slipped her arm around Lance’s, the two of them walking back home with their arms interlocked and their heads in the clouds. 

21:25

Shiro frowned at his phone before slipping it into his pocket and turning back to the freshly organised desk before him. He and Curtis had just spent over half an hour tidying the classroom, both well aware that it would only be messed up again in the morning and yet neither unable to resist the need to clean nonetheless. When Shiro turned to look at Curtis he seemed to be in his own head, a small, doubtful frown on his lips as he carefully slipped his precious folder into his bag. 

Shiro sighed, grabbing his own bag before turning to Curtis with his own regretful frown. “Guess we lost track of time today.” 

Curtis, tearing himself from his thoughts, looked to Shiro with a regretful look of his own. “Right, I guess we just can’t help ourselves.” 

Shiro gave him a weak smile before following Curtis out the door. Shiro made sure to lock every door behind him before securing the spare set of school keys he had gotten from Coran in his jacket pocket. The walk through the school and out the front gates was consumed in a pensive silence, neither Shiro nor Curtis actually speaking a word to each other until they were already halfway through their walk together. Seeing the crossroads where they would part ways already growing close, Shiro finally spoke to Curtis. 

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to do something after class today. I shouldn’t have… I mean, I keep telling myself it’s only a class play, I don’t know why I keep,” Shiro cut himself off, swallowing the frustrated huff that was growing in his chest. “Sorry, Curtis.” 

Curtis was quiet for a moment that felt endless to Shiro, yet just as Shiro was about to speak again and lose himself in a truly self-deprecating rant, Curtis finally spoke up, voice timid and seeming to deeply contemplate every sentence before it came out. “I think it was your diligence that first made me start paying attention to you.” 

“You what?” Shiro blurted, quickly snapping his mouth shut in embarrassment. 

Curtis only giggled, wringing his hands together as he mumbled on, “I remember when I first joined the student council and I asked you to teach me how to use the printer. Even though you were grading papers for Professor Montgomery you dropped everything to help me. Everyone always relies on you for so many things, but no matter how big or the job is you always treat them with equal care.” 

Shiro wasn’t quite sure how to respond. His mouth hung open, initially hoping to let out words only to find he had none. Instead he watched Curtis with growing admiration, head spinning as a warm hand curled itself around his own. 

“It would be hypocritical of me to be upset by the thing that made me start to like you in the first place.” 

Shiro’s footsteps faltered to a stop, feet sticking to their spots on the pavement as if he had suddenly stepped in a glue trap. Curtis froze too, the hand that held Shiro’s beginning to slip loose again as fear began to creep its way onto his face. “Oh god, unless I’ve completely misread the situation…” He cried, quickly pulling his hand away from Shiro’s and scrubbing it against his jeans. “ Oh god… ” 

“No!” Shiro’s arms raised like he was trying to calm a wild animal. “No, I’m sorry, I was just surprised!” 

“I’m so sorry Shiro, I thought this whole time you were…” Curtis whined, lifting his hands to cover his face which was growing increasingly hotter by the minute. 

“I was!” Shiro insisted, his face adopting a warm blush of its own. 

Curtis slowly emerged from behind his shaking hands. “You were?” 

“Yes!” Shiro breathed, “I was! I actually didn’t know if you were too…” 

“I was!” Curtis cried back, flinching at the volume of his own voice before muttering again, much quieter, “I was…” 

“You were…” Shiro breathed.

“I… was…” 

Shiro nodded slowly, brain struggling to keep up with the conversation. Still nodding, mind still reeling, Shiro began to walk again. Curtis, who was in his own stunned silence, walked alongside him. But eventually Shiro’s mind caught up and his heart jumped to life in his chest. Shiro reached out and took Curtis’ hand back into his own, Curti’s shaking fingers tightening their grip around Shiro’s. 

“Why don’t we go out on Saturday instead?” Shiro suggested. 

“Yeah… sound’s good.” Curtis muttered back. 

April 28th, Thursday

13 days

A morning of relationship debates with his sisters, half an hour of trigonometry with Shiro, an hour of teaching Ryan new techniques on the ancient school sewing machines and then eight hours of class. That was the schedule Lance followed on Thursday, a schedule almost identical to the past several days. Usually in situations like this Lance would have found himself growing irritated, anxious to break free from the cycle and start something different again. But Lance didn’t feel that way this time around. In fact, he found himself quite enjoying the routine, coming in to pleasant greetings from classmates and friends, spending tiring yet productive hours at work and going home with his back aching and his chest light. A change in routine was bound to come sooner or later, though Lance wasn’t exactly expecting the manner in which it came. 

Lance arrived at his homeroom with Hunk and Pidge just as Ryan arrived with his own little posse. James Griffin and Nadia Rizavi were trailing behind Ryan, too distracted by their bickering to notice they had reached the classroom already. Rizavi bumped into Ryan’s back as he stopped by the door, James having enough spatial awareness to stop before he did the same. They peaked around Ryan’s shoulders to examine the opposite group, Nadia’s face lifting in delight while James’ dropped into a scowl. 

“Ready for another wonderful evening of manual labour, gang?” Nadia greeted the others, stepping around Ryan to slip into the classroom. 

“Born ready.” Pidge drawled as she shuffled in behind Rizavi, the bags under her eyes telling Lance everything he needed to know about how she spent her night. 

Hunk only grunted in response as he trailed in after Pidge, and Lance could only assume he had been on the phone to Pidge last night to offer mechanical advice.

That left Lance and Ryan by the door, James still brooding from behind Ryan’s shoulder. They were at a standstill, and while Lance wanted to greet the others or make his way into the classroom too, he found himself worried that the wrong choice would have him at the mercy of James’ wrath. Not that he knew the extent of James’ fury, but according to reputation he wasn’t exactly a daisy. Lance only let himself hesitate for another few moments before forcing himself to take a step towards the door.

“How are your hands?” Lance asked Ryan with a smile, choosing to ignore the daggers being shot at him from the corner of his eye. He was used to such looks anyway. 

“Hands aren’t the problem,” Ryan answered easily, “it’s my back that’s killing me.” 

“Tell me about it,” Lance groaned, stretching out his back before shuffling his way back to their workstation. 

Romelle was already at her seat, and upon noticing Ryan and Lance’s entrance grinned enthusiastically. She ushered them to hurry up before pulling out her journal and spinning it around to face them. Lance and Ryan sank into their chairs, the seat feeling like their second home at this stage, and inclined to see what Romelle was so excited about. 

“I’ve had an idea,” Romelle gushed, brightly coloured nails shimmering as she pointed to her designs. “One word: glitter!” 

Romelle traced the edge of her design, explaining what edges and seams should be traced with glitter paint and which parts should be sprayed with spray-on glitter. The select parts eventually became every part once Romelle got her hands on the can of spray-on glitter, though Lance thought the addition quite nice either way. He also enjoyed the break from slouching over the sewing machine, the lack of back pain after an hour being muchly appreciated. 

Lance and Ryan were sitting on the floor, painting along the edge of a costume’s skirt with glitter, when Ryan spoke up in a voice barely above a whisper. 

“Lance, would you…” Ryan began, seeming to lose more confidence with each word he spoke until his sentence dissipated into nothing. 

Lance looked at him with a patient smile, assuming it was another question about the machine or something else sewing related. “Uh-huh?” 

Ryan swallowed, “Would you wanna… go watch a movie with me some time?” 

Lance felt like someone had punched him in the chest, head snapping to look up at Ryan in surprise. As Lance moved to look up at Ryan his hand slipped, painting the band much thicker than he was supposed to. Lance hissed at his mistake, muttering a quiet swear under his breath as he attempted to wipe his mistake away. 

“It’s fine,” Ryan said. 

“No, I just,” Lance had begun when he looked over at Ryan and saw he was looking at the smudged paint. 

“We can just paint the band a bit thicker,” Ryan murmured, painting the line thicker where he had been working. 

Lance gave Ryan a weak smile. “I…” 

Lance couldn’t find it in himself to reply, his attention captured by a flash of bright colours in the corner of his vision. Lance looked over, whatever he was planning to say to Ryan flying straight out the window as two new figures appeared in the window. 

Romelle was suddenly squealing and soon everyone in the room’s attention was on the couple, Keith and Allura at the top of the room, wearing the costumes Ryan and Lance had finished only the night before. Ryan turned to see what Lance was looking at too though Lance missed his expression, too busy staring at the costumes. Lance jumped to his feet, hurrying over to Allura and Keith and admiring his work on an actual body. 

“Hey! Not bad!” Lance praised, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and spinning him around to inspect the back of the garment. 

“The costume department did a fantastic job! Well done, you three!” Allura praised, grinning widely as Romelle and Shay circled around her, showering her in compliments. 

Lance spun Keith around to face him again, adjusting the collar of the jacket he wore and smoothing out a few small creases. Keith was stiff under his touch, but visibly relaxed when Lance looked up at him with a bored expression. 

“You look alright, I guess.” Lance shrugged. 

Keith scoffed, “No thanks to you.” 

“ All thanks to me,” Lance corrected with a gloating smirk.

While students swarmed to praise the costumes, Coran and Thace arrived to see how progress was going. The two were delighted with how much the class had done and every team received a substantial amount of praise from each teacher. Just as they were admiring the costumes and giving the costume department their due praise, Lance felt a hard grip on his shoulder. He was almost expecting it to be Keith, surprise smacking him in the face when he spun around to see the scornful glare of James Griffin instead. 

Lance blanched, taking a moment to think of what he could possibly have done to make him so mad, but James was already yelling before Lance could even begin to brainstorm. 

“Forgetting something McClain?” He spat, jabbing a finger into Lance’s chest with a ferocity Lance wasn’t sure he had even seen from Keith. 

“I…” Lance flinched, just as shell shocked as everyone else in the classroom who only watched in horror. 

“I believe my friend here was asking you a question before you came running over here to your precious costumes.” James hissed. 

“James,” Nadia spoke quietly, the slight volume of her voice not hiding the anxiety that laced it. 

“I- who?” Lance stuttered, eyes flicking to behind James to where Ryan stood, stiff with panic. Lance’s heart sank, looking back to James whose eyes were still staring just as sharply at him.

“You know who, or are you gonna play dumb with me too?” 

James shoved Lance with an impressive conviction, sending Lance stumbling back a couple steps and into someone’s chest. Lance glanced back, only catching a glimpse of who he had stumbled into before his eyes were snapping back to James who was quickly advancing again. Lance hurried to step out of the way, only making it half a step before James had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. 

“Alright! That’s enough!” Thace called over the commotion, cutting through the group to break up the fight. 

Lance wasn’t sure what James was going to do next, though he didn’t think James would resort to physical violence. He somewhat knew of James’ obsession with following rules, more often than not to the extreme. Unfortunately Lance didn’t get to figure out what James would have done as another hand reached out, grabbing James by the shoulder and dragging him away from Lance. Just as James’ grip loosened on Lance’s collar, a fist shot through the air between them and landed precisely on James’ jaw. 

James toppled backwards, collapsing onto the classroom floor and cradling his jaw with a muffled groan. Screams rang around the room, students jumping back to avoid getting involved in whatever fight was about to arise. And of course who else could it have been to punch James Griffin but Keith Kogane himself, fist clenched so tight by his side that his knuckles were bone white. 

“James!” Nadia cried, dropping to her knees by James’ side as Curtis rushed over to help James himself. 

“Keith!” Shiro yelled, reaching out to grab Keith by the arm and turn him away from where his eyes continued to burn holes in the boy he had just attacked. “What were you thinking?” Shiro hissed, panic more prevalent in his voice than anger. 

Keith shrugged Shiro’s hand from his arm with a harsh pull, but he turned his eyes from James to look up at Shiro with a frown. “It’s nothing.” 

“Nothing? Griffin’s on the floor!” 

“That’s gonna bruise…” Hunk leaned over to mutter in Lance’s ear, but the words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. 

Lance watched Keith quietly, unable to turn away from the sight of Keith practically shaking with anger. It was bizarre to think, but Lance actually found himself enjoying the sight. Keith had hit James because James threatened Lance. Lance wasn’t sure what he felt in that moment, maybe it was something akin to pride, pride in his progress with Keith. Lance realised he had never seen Keith hit anyone else but Lance before, and Lance even dared to think he missed it. He missed the thrill that came with fighting Keith, the aching and throbbing of the burst lips and purple bruises that would paint their faces. He missed the adrenaline of a fight and the relief he felt after it. He wondered if Keith ever felt the same, if he ever missed their fights. He thought he should ask Keith. But as he watched Coran approach Keith and scold him, watched the bored expression that washed away his previous anger as Coran dished him his deserved Friday detention, a suddenly more exciting and stupid idea came to him instead. 

Ignoring Hunk’s worried calls after him, Lance marched right up to Keith and spun him around just as Keith had done to James and with a smile that didn’t belong in the moment, delivered a sweet punch against his cheek. 

The screams and commotion that erupted in the class around Lance were nothing more than a dull murmur in his ears, eyes soloing in on Keith as he stumbled back. A bruise was already forming on his pale skin, a rosy red blush that would soon turn purple. A brilliant indigo like the eyes that stared right back at Lance, burning with an all familiar glow that Lance hadn’t realised he had grown to miss.

Chapter Text

April 29th, Friday

12 days

Fortunately evening preparation for the class play didn’t happen on Fridays. Unfortunately, thanks to their scuffle on Thursday, Lance and Keith had to stay late anyway to attend their evening detention. They bid a bittersweet farewell to their friends who fed them lies of waiting for their arrival to start playing Kilbot Phantasm before making the rather depressing trip to their designated detention room. 

They had the misfortune of having detention with Professor Iverson and, even though only one of his eyes worked, was superhumanly vigilant and had a deep hatred for students interacting with each other during his detention. Any twitch or breath in the direction of another human would be immediately clocked and the victim would be punished with another page of lines to write. And with James Griffin sitting behind the two with eyes glowing with rage, both Keith and Lance decided it would be best to stomach the silent punishment. 

Hearing the sound of the voice dismissing Lance and Keith from detention was like the sound of angels singing. Lance wasted absolutely no time shoving all of his things into his bag and taking off out the door to his freedom. Of course Keith trailed behind, taking his time packing his things away and trudging out of the classroom as if he had nowhere better to be. Once Lance had swapped out his books and gotten everything he needed for that weekend’s homework he made his way to Keith’s locker, arriving just as Keith had finished packing his own things. Keith’s locker door swung shut and the two made their way out together. 

Lance breathed in the hot summer air with a grin. “So, how does it feel to finish your first detention with me as an ally instead of an enemy?” 

Keith pointed to the pretty purple shade of his cheek. “I stop Griffin from hitting you and this is my thanks?”

Lance tutted playfully at Keith. “Can’t you recognise the mark of an ally?” Keith rolled his eyes and prodded pitifully as his bruise. “I suppose I should say thanks, shouldn’t I?” Lance said. 

“You should.” Keith muttered back, expressive as ever. 

Lance snorted, “Though I don’t think Griffin actually had the guts to hit me anyway,” 

“Why was he even threatening you in the first place? You been using him as your new punching bag since you stopped bothering me?” Keith replied, only fractionally joking.

“No.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I don’t bother anyone else but you.” 

“I’m honoured,” Keith scoffed. Lance shoved Keith playfully, Keith only swaying slightly as they continued ahead. “But seriously, what happened between you two?” 

“Well,” Lance began and pondered telling Keith about the Ryan situation. For some reason he found himself hesitating to share too much, instead figuring a twisted truth would work just as well. “I think I might have upset Kinkade in some way…” 

“Kinkade?” Keith was quick to say. 

“Right,” 

“You know why?” Keith asked. 

“Nah, and I felt kinda awkward asking him about it today…” Lance muttered back. 

“Hm…” Keith hummed back. 

They walked a couple more steps in silence, Lance waiting a beat before speaking again. 

“Well, thanks for defending my honour, anyway. If you can’t defend your own, you might as well defend someone else’s.” 

Keith turned to shoot Lance a suspicious glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lance shrugged, “Nothing, only that you folded so quickly when everyone made you agree to the kiss scene in the play.” 

“I didn’t fold!” Keith argued, voice lifting into the classic irritation Lance had memorised this time around, “I told them I’d think about it…”

Lance snorted, “That’s folding.” 

“It is not,” 

“Totally is,”

“Whatever,” Keith grumbled and then, after a pause, turned back to Lance, “Why’d you care so much, anyway? Scared I’ll kiss your precious Allura?” 

Lance let out a long groan. “How many times do I have to say I don’t like Allura that way anymore?” 

Keith’s grumpiness faded and became a genuine, quiet curiosity then when he said, “so why then?” 

Lance realised he probably should have just gone along with the Allura excuse then, instead of getting all upset and sensitive about it. Now that he thought about it, did he even know why he hated the idea so much? But then again, did he really need a reason to hate it? 

“I just… I don't know, what’s your excuse?” 

“ My excuse? I’m the one who has to do the scene!” Keith argued back, “it’s embarrassing…” 

“I guess.” 

Keith scoffed, “You guess ? How would you feel if you had to kiss Allura in front of the whole school? Wait, don’t answer that question, I already know the answer.” 

Lance's nostrils flared as he crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his chin into himself grumpily. “How many times do I have to say that I don’t have a crush on Allura anymore?” Lance groaned. 

“Why not?” 

“What?” 

“Why don’t you like Allura anymore?” Keith asked.

Lance couldn’t exactly explain to Keith why he gave up on his feelings for Allura – the truth would make him look more than a little insane. Lance was quite sure he could do nothing to make Allura like him now, having already seen ten years into the future, a future that included a bitter wedding between Lance's then beloved Allura and the snobbish Lotor. Not to mention their tiny, English-accented children being a constant reminder to Lance that he had let one of his closest friends procreate with such a monster. No, another half-truth would do just as well this time too. 

“Well, there’s only a certain amount of years you can chase someone before you kinda have to take the hint.” Lance said, only half joking. 

Keith frowned. “I guess.” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. 

“But I don’t regret chasing Allura,” Lance continued, “I was sincere and honest with my own feelings. Nobody should be ashamed of that.” 

Lance didn’t get a response after that, though Keith was silently nodding along. Lance decided to let that conversation end there, instead transitioning to discussing the game for the short remainder of their walk to the Holt’s house. 

Lance and Keith got a cheerful greeting upon their arrival, Matt hooking his arm around Keith’s neck in an attempt to noogie him, though Keith squeezed free from his grip before any real noogying could happen. When it was Lance’s turn, however, he wasn’t so successful in breaking free and he fussed over his hair for a solid five minutes afterwards. 

Lance’s assumptions had been right and they had already cleared another dungeon by the time he arrived, though he forgave his friends’ transgressions when they offered him the next half hour uninterrupted of controller privilege. Though already knowing the game and its story rather intimately, Lance still took his time going through each level, wasting time on cannon-fodder NPCs and filler quests until it was Keith’s turn for an uninterrupted thirty minutes. 

Minutes of gaming turned into hours and hours turned into the entire evening until people began to complain about their hunger. Gaming turned into eating, and then eating turned into gaming again and soon enough it was somewhere between dusk and dawn and Keith found himself stuck on a puzzle. 

Keith blinked up at the screen, finger frozen over the button as he blinked slowly at the glowing screen. He hesitated for just too long and Lance let out a long sigh before leaning over Keith and snatching the controller from his hands. “Come here, I’ll do it.” 

“Hey!” Keith barked, jumping to pull the controller back, “It’s my turn, you had yours!” 

“And you’re taking too long,” Lance argued, “plus, everyone here would agree I’m better at the game than you.” 

“That’s not true,” 

“Really? Hey, everyone, who’s better? Me or Keith?” 

Keith snatched the controller back from Lance who let out a shocked squeak, long limbs curling around Keith’s as he wriggled up the other boy’s body to grapple for the controller. The sudden brawl had everyone watching in quiet confusion, even Allura, who had abandoned the game for her phone after realising how truly terrible she was at the game. Keith’s hand slapped against Lance’s cheek as he attempted to push himself free, Lance retaliating by shoving an elbow into Keith’s chest. The grapple didn’t continue for much longer – Keith delivered a kick against Lance’s knee, Lance’s fingers twisted in Keith’s hair to which Keith’s eyes squeezed shut in pain for a fraction of time. 

Just when Lance was about to reach for the controller in Keith’s moment of weakness, a moment that was sure to be followed by a long period of cocky gloating, Keith’s eyes snapped back to Lance with an all familiar glow. Lance paused as Keith’s eyes locked with his own, finding himself at a tense standstill. Lance couldn’t find it in himself to move, eyes and limbs locked in place. 

Surely Lance got a hit to the head, or maybe that silent detention was getting to him, because all he could think as he looked into Keith’s angry eyes was how much he enjoyed that look. He was sure he looked insane as the hazy smile pulled itself onto his lips. And the thought seemed ridiculous and strange as it hit him, yet he swore the look Keith shot back at Lance was just the same as his own.

A rumble from the TV and a vibration from the controller under Lance and Keith’s hands had both boys snapping out of their odd trance before anyone else managed to intervene. They had entered a boss fight, and with a terrified quiver in her voice, Pidge whimpered. 

“Guys, we did save, right?” And when nobody replied she latched onto Hunk beside her who was frozen in his own horror. She shook Hunk back and forward, doing nothing to help the poor boy who looked like he would throw up any minute. “We saved! Tell me we saved!” 

“What do I do?” Keith panicked, looking down to where he and Lance still held the controller. He shoved it toward Lance. “You do it, you’re better.” 

Lance shoved the controller back to Keith firmly, “No, you should do it, Keith.” 

Keith pushed it back, “Come on, we all know you’re better than me,” 

Lance shook his head, “Oh if only I had the time to savour you saying that,” Lance said, any other thoughts interrupted by a roar from the TV and then he was releasing the controller in favour of grabbing Keith’s arm with a less than manly cry. “Move! Move, move, he’s throwing his axe!” 

Keith scrambled to pick up the controller, dashing just in time to dodge the attack. The room became a sudden cacophony of yelling and screaming, everyone shooting suggestions in Keith’s direction as he struggled against the boss. Lance may have been yelling too close to Keith’s ear, and Keith’s left ear may have sustained some long-term damage as a result, but Lance was pretty sure it was only thanks to Lance's prior knowledge on how to kill this boss that they got so far with only a couple close calls. Lance wasn’t sure how long they were fighting the boss or how much of their resources they had burned through before Keith finally delivered the final blow, the room silent and ready to explode in anticipation as the boss finally collapsed. 

April 30th, Saturday

11 days

Lance blinked up at the ceiling with an impatient huff. He wasn’t sure how long he had been trying to fall asleep to no avail. He glanced to his left where Hunk lay on a blow-up mattress, sleeping away in bliss. Above Hunk in her bed was Pidge, snoozing away, unaffected by Hunk’s orchestral snoring. Usually Lance wasn’t bothered by Hunk’s snoring either, but when he found himself restless and irritated, it wasn’t exactly helpful . Lance grappled for his phone in the dark room, momentarily blinding himself to check the time. 

04:03

Lance shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle a groan that almost managed to force its way out. Eventually, fed up with lying there in silence, pushed himself up from his own air mattress as quietly as he could and tip-toed towards Pidge’s bedroom door. Lance had succeeded in sneaking out of the room, silently opening and shutting the door behind him without even a twitch out of Hunk or Pidge. Yet just as he turned to shuffle away he spotted a figure obstructing the way. 

“Hey,” the figure had only begun whispering when Lance practically threw himself against the wall. 

“AHHH!” Lance shrieked, the heel of his foot smacking the wall with a painfully loud knock. 

Of course it was Keith, and the look on his face would have been priceless if Lance’s own wasn’t the exact same. The two hunched over in the hallway, eyes wide and panicked as they glanced between the three bedroom doors – Hunk and Pidge in one, Shiro and Matt in another, and the Holt’s parents in the other. It was only after a solid minute of undisturbed silence that Keith and Lance turned to look at each other again, both hurrying to scramble down the stairs before the giggles that bubbled in their chests could surface. 

Keith was shutting the living room door behind him when Lance leaned over and slapped the back of his head. Keith let out a hushed yelp, turning to face Lance with a glower. But Lance’s face was glowing with barely-contained glee and Keith quickly simmered down. 

“What the hell were you doing lingering in the hallway like that!?” Lance hissed. 

Keith rubbed the back of his head with a huff. “I can’t sleep in other people’s houses…” 

Lance’s giddiness eventually faded away and he instead offered a sympathetic nod to Keith. “Ah,” 

“You?” Keith asked. 

“Nah,” Lance muttered back, settling on the couch, “I’m usually fine. I just can’t seem to get to sleep today.” 

“Hm,” Keith responded and sat down beside Lance. 

Lance could only twiddle his thumbs for so long before he needed to speak again, turning his body to face Keith’s, hugging his legs to his chest and setting his chin atop his knees. “You were pretty good today with that boss. I didn’t think we would actually survive that.” 

Keith hummed quietly. “Same,” 

Lance snorted, “And Pidge would have freaked if we had to start again from the city gates. That was like, three hours of gameplay.” 

Keith’s lips twitched into his usual almost-smile. “Right,” 

“And even Allura was watching! She hadn’t looked up from her phone since we met that villager that looked like Coran!” 

“That was kinda creepy.” Keith’s smile faded into a distant frown.

“Right? The resemblance was uncanny…” Lance almost shivered with the memory of the hauntingly empty stare of the Coran lookalike. 

The world was almost silent, every so often the sound of a car driving by breaking the peace and leaving both boys wondering who would be out at such a late time. Lance tried not to stare at Keith, though there wasn’t really anything else to look at. Instead Lance opted to look out the living room window at the orange glow of the streetlamps. Lance’s eyes had been following a particularly large moth who circled cluelessly around the streetlight when he felt Keith shift. They were now both facing each other, a thoughtful look on Keith’s face. Lance looked down, noticing their feet only mere inches apart. Lance had the urge to poke Keith’s foot with his own. 

“Have you ever kissed someone?” 

Lance looked up at Keith, almost laughing at the sudden question. Lance felt like he should find the question funny, like maybe he could joke about it and lighten the heavy mood. 

Instead he answered truthfully. “Yeah.” 

Keith nodded. “Who?” 

Lance took in a heavy breath, sagging against the couch as he thought, doing the math in his head so as to not accidentally name someone he technically hadn’t kissed yet. “My first kiss was some girl from camp a few years ago. I was thirteen, pretty young. Which makes me think the camp leaders weren’t doing a very good job, letting a bunch of thirteen year olds run around kissing each other.” 

Keith only nodded, any attempt of humour going either unnoticed or unappreciated. 

Lance dropped his head against the couch cushions and Keith mirrored the movement. “I was dared to kiss Shay at Allura’s sixteenth birthday party, though Hunk nearly cried so I didn’t even try,” Lance snorted, “I kissed Nyma instead. I ended up getting punched by Rolo, though. Not sure if it was worth it.” 

“I’m sure it was,” Keith hummed. 

Lance perked up at that. 

“The punch, I mean.” 

Lance smirked. “Jerk.” 

Keith smirked back, though it quickly faded from his face. Keith’s eyes dropped to his knees, and with a steeling breath muttered, “I’ve never kissed anyone.” 

Lance wanted to be surprised, but after a moment of thought he realised he would have been more surprised if Keith had kissed someone before. The guy spent almost all of his time alone or brooding, if Lance could barely get a girl to kiss him then where would Keith find someone? So Lance didn’t say anything, only looking at Keith and silently encouraging him to go on. 

“So,” Keith trailed off, picking at his fingernails for a moment before looking up, “so I don’t want my first kiss to be on stage in front of the whole school…”

“Ah,” that did make sense . Lance’s heart seemed to lurch in his chest, and through a storm of thoughts and voices that flooded his mind in that moment, he managed a civil: “I get it.”

Keith looked up at Lance with a complicated look on his face. “So it’s a bit awkward that everyone in the class seems to want me to do it.” 

“I don't." Lance jutted in before that practiced self control he had before could have a say. 

But the blunt comment seemed to be appreciated by Keith who barely smiled and nodded back. “Yeah, at least you don’t.” 

Lance simmered in the silence for a moment, looking at Keith who looked right back with that frown that always seemed to be lurking about. “You gonna do it?” 

Keith shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

Keith’s eyes told Lance everything he couldn’t say and it made Lance’s stomach twist. “I…” He tried, but Lance didn’t really know what to say. Keith watched Lance for a moment before turning to face away from him again, leaning back on the couch cushions and staring into the blank TV. 

“It’s fine, if everyone wants me to do it I’ll just do it.”

Lance frowned, sticking his foot out to poke Keith’s thigh. Keith glanced down at Lance’s prodding toe with a glare which was soon redirected up at Lance himself. 

“Stop brooding,” Lance muttered, but Keith only shrugged. Lance huffed in frustration, his heart drumming in his chest like it wanted Lance to do something that his brain couldn’t quite catch up to. Lance stretched his legs out across Keith's lap, Keith looking down at Lance's long limbs over his own in befuddlement. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.” 

Keith scoffed, eventually relaxing under the new weight of Lance’s legs. “A plan by you? I think I’d rather do the kiss.” 

Lance glared at Keith, debatign whether or not to hit him but istead settling for a verbal assault. He shimmied back in his seat, now laying down on the couch with his hands tucked behind his head like a pillow. “Well hey, Allura’s not a bad person to have your first kiss with. I’m almost jealous,” 

“Yeah,” Keith grunted, “I’m sure you are.” 

That made Lance hit Keith. “I don’t like Allura like that.” 

Keith let out one of the many sounds he usually made that Lance learned could be roughly translated into “whatever”, and the two of them settled into silence. Lance wondered what time it was but he had left his phone in Pidge’s room, and when he turned to ask Keith if he had the time he seemed deep in thought, and Lance didn’t want to interrupt it. Lance didn’t want to fall asleep, but no matter how much he wanted to fight the sleep that seemed to creep up on him out of nowhere, he found he didn’t really have the willpower to do anything but let it take him. 

When he woke up the next morning, Lance almost forgot where he was. He had woken up in Pidge’s room countless times, but that may have been the first time he woke up in the Holts’ living room. Lance slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight shining directly in his eyes dragging him quite begrudgingly out of his blissful sleep. The light was blinding and hot and Lance was uncomfortable, yet when he shifted to dodge the sun’s rays Lance found himself oddly encumbered. Having only woken up, Lance almost didn’t notice the foreign weight on his chest, and if not for the intruding light that was blinding him he probably would have ignored it and went straight back to sleep. Lance craned his neck to look down, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the morning light until his brain finally made sense of what he was seeing.

It was almost a comical sight, pale limbs entagled with brown, a shocking black mess of bed head resting on Lance’s chest. But Lance was far from laughing at the situation, mind and body freezing as he decided what to do. He looked around him for an out, spotting Keith’s phone by his hip only an inch from falling on the floor. Lance snatched the phone up, checking the time to see it was already approaching ten in the morning. Lance was suprised nobody was about yet, the he realised Pidge’s parents probably were about already, and had most likely seen Lance in this position. Should Lance be worried? Embarassed? He wasn’t entirely sure, but his heart nonetheless thrashed at the thought. 

The sound of stirring from the second floor had Lance’s body jumping to action before his brain formulated what he should do next. Lance’s body recoiled, almost folding into itself as Lance rolled over, sliding to the floor in a far from flattering way before scrambling to his feet in hopes of seeming nonchalant. Obviously Keith woke up from the sudden disruption, though he didn’t seem aware of their previous cuddling, waking up very slowly with a disgruntled grumble before slowly istting up like a zombie pullig itself from its grave. 

Eyes glossy and not processing a thing around them, Keith slowly blinked up at Lance before smacking his lips. “Hey…” He mumbled. 

“Hey, what up, mornin’.” Lance rattled on, planting his hands on his hips casually as he could. 

Keith nodded slowly, slowly looking around the room before looking back to Lance. “You awake long?” 

Lance shrugged, stretching his arms out infront of him. “Yeah,” he lied, “not too long, I just took a walk around the house, stretch my legs, you know…” 

“Ah,” Keith sighed, rubbing his eyes lazily before sitting up. He seemed barely able to hold himself up, the sigh making Lance’s chest swell with a sigh, the kind of sigh he felt the urge to let out when he watched cat videos or when a baby laughed. Lance felt… well, he didn’t know how he felt about it, so he ignored it. 

Thankfully distractions arrived soon enough, the sound of footsteps pattering down the stairs pulling Lance and Keith away from their solitude. The living room door opened to Shiro and Matt, the duo already absorbed in conversation about something much too complex for Lance’s mind this early in the morning. When Shiro saw Keith sitting on the couch his face fell into a sympathetic smile, but as the door opened further to reveal Lance standing across from him the sympath melted into surprise. 

“Morning you two.” Shiro hummed pleasantly, stepping over to Keith and squeezing his shoulder. “Sorry for falling asleep,” Shiro spoke quietly, clearly feeling very guilty judging by the frown on his usually chipper face. “You get any sleep?”

“Yeah, actually,” Keith replied, sounding almost like he was in a trance.

”Oh,” Shiro didn’t seem too sure how to react, but his surprise quickly switched into joy and a bright smile spread over his face. “Good.”  

Shiro gaqve Keith’s shoulder a pat before stepping away, turning face the others in the room with a smile. “Well, sorry to be brief but I’m late for plans so I gotta head.” 

“Plans?” Keith hummed, standing up from the couch with a long stretch that Lance forced himself to not watch, avoiding his strange urge to sigh. 

Matt leaned against the door frame with a sly smirk. “He has a date .”

Lance perked up. “With Curtis?” 

“It’s,” Shiro began as if to object, but the end of his sentence died on his tongue. “Yeah, I’m meeting him at the school.” 

“Geez, your whole relationship is just revolving around that school. You guys gonna get married there too?” Matt snorted and Shiro shot him a glare. 

“It’s pretty much the halfway point beteen our houses.” Shiro attempted to defend himself but Matt hadn’t the slightest interest. 

“Whatever dude, you’re already, like, ten minutes late,” Matt said.  

Shiro blanched, turning to look at Keith, who gave him a reassuring nod, before bidding everyone a brief yet cheerful goodbye and disappearing out the door. 

Shiro eventually broke out into a run on his way to meet Curtis, every minute over the time they had agreeed to meet having Shiro feeling worse and worse. By the time he reached the school Shiro was fifteen minutes late and the sight of Curtis waiting patiently had a heavy guilt sinking his stomach. He stumbled over to Curtis with a desperate apology, eyes almost spilling over with tears as he doubled over and grabbed his knees to stablise himself. 

“Curtis,” Shiro managed between desperate gulps for air, “I am so sorry, I ended up staying over at Matt’s place last night,” a gasp, “and then I slept in because I stayed up late trying to keep Keith company,” another gasp, “because he can’t sleep in new places,” a dep huff, “but I shouldn’t have kept you waiting, and I’m sorry,” 

Curtis didn’t say anything for a second, staring at Shiro in bewilderment. “How far away does Matt live?” 

“Uh,” Shiro slowly stood up straight. “Oak Drive, about a twenty minute walk.” 

“Geez, did you run all the way? You’re soaked with sweat…” 

“Uh, yeah. I did.” 

Curtis blinked up at Shiro with nothing less than horror on his face. “You ran ?” 

Shiro shrugged. “I didn’t wanna keep you waiting.”

Curtis’ lips curled into a soft smile as he rooted through his bag. “Here,” he sighed, pulling out a packet of tissues from his bag and handing one to Shiro, “next time you don’t have to run. I can wait, you know. I won’t melt.”

Shiro took the tissue with a sheepish smile. “Right,” he mumbled awkwardly, staring at the tissue with a complicated expresison. 

Curtis smirked. “That’s a tissue, Shiro. You can wipe your face with it.” 

Shiro gave the tissue a thoughtful frown. “Yeah but it’s,” he paused, turing the tissue over in his hand. “It’s the first thing you’ve given me, I feel bad getting it covered in my sweat…” 

Curtis only watched Shiro for a couple seconds before he broke down into a fit of giggled. Shiro’s cheeks flushed in embarassment, turning his face away from Curtis’ laughter with a scowl, though his hand remained relaxed as it cradled Curtis’ tissue. Now unerstanding Shiro’s conflict Curtis took the tissue back from Shiro and tucked it into his pocket. Before Shiro could object, Curtis was rooting through his bag again with determination. After a moment of fidgeting he produced a set of keys, and after another moment one of the keyrings was disconnected from the keys and Curtis was handing it over to Shiro. 

“Now,” Curtis hummed with a satisfied smile, “this is my first official gift to you. You can use your tissue without worry.” 

Shiro looked down at the key ring in his hand, a small string of clay beads in the shape of planets, each painted to look like their actual counterparts in pastel shades. Shiro wasn’t sure how long he stood there simply admiring the charm, but it was long enough for Curtis to grow curious. 

“What’s wrong?” Curtis asked. 

“Nothing,” Shiro spoke lowly, fingertips running over the glazed surface of the charms, “just making sure I remember this moment.” 

Curtis paused for a moment, and when Shiro looked up at him he saw Curtis’ cheeks were warming. Then Curtis shook his head, reached out to grab Shiro’s hand and began to drag him away. 

“Come on, if we keep standing here we’ll miss our movie.” 

It wasn’t until past noon that the others finally left Pidge’s house. Pidge’s parents had made a hefty breakfast for the remaining five teens after Shiro had left, the hearty meal leaving everyone anxious to start their day. Lance, Keith, Hunk and Pidge roamed the town, everyone but Pidge still in their clothes from the previous day. Lance felt dirty and sticky, the weather unfairly warm, the air humid and stagnant.

Lance eventually let out a groan, a groan that Pidge and Hunk were anticipating would come any moment. “I’m sick of this, why is it so hot out?” 

“It’s practically summer, Lance.” Pidge replied cooly and Lance wanted to kick her. 

“No, it’s still April. April’s supposed to be pleasant Spring breezes and flowers and happiness. This is,” Lance scoffed, pulling on the collar of his shirt as if it was choking him, “this is torture and fire and brimstone.”

”Oh!” Hunk chirped, “Let’s swim in the river!” 

Pidge grimaced. “The river’s gonna be full of people today…” 

Keith, who had been mostly silent throughout their exploring of the town, spoke up quietly. “I know a place we could go.” 

The other three turned to Keith with curiosity. He was pretty much a hermit before being wrangled into their little circle, so no doubt this place he was talking about would be good. They picked up some drinks and snacks in a store Lance had once worked at (or was it in the future?) before they followed Keith on the trail to his mysterious place. 

The walk wasn’t too long, and only fifteen minutes from the corner store they found themselves at a rusted old gate almost entirely obscured by overgrown shrubbery. Keith pushed aside the vines and branches, fidgeting with the practically oxidised hunk of metal before it finally squeaked open. Keith stepped through the gate, turning to the others with an impatient frown. 

“Come on, before someone sees.” 

“Uh, is this legal?” Hunk asked anxiously, hugging the bag of snacks to his chest as if it could offer his moral support. 

“Yeah, so long as we don’t get caught.” Keith scoffed. Hunk let out a snort of laughter, but upon seeing Keith’s lack of his own laughter the smile quickly disappeared and Hunk hurried in after Keith. Lance and Pidge exchanged only vaguely suspicious looks, both either too hot or too tired to argue. Pidge slipped through the gate, Lance following just behind, making sure to shut the gate tightly behind him before catching up to the others.   

The further they walked, the more Lance was hit with an odd sense that he had been there before. He leaned over to Pidge who was trudging along absentmindedly, possibly in a heat induced daze. She cradled a crisp cold can of soda similar to how one would cradle a hot chocolate in winter. 

“Hey, Pidge, have we ever been here before?” 

Pidge seemed to wake up from her trance, glancing at Lance before carefully sweeping their surroundings. She shrugged. “Don’t think so. Well, not me, anyway.” 

“Hm.” Lance frowned. There was definitely something vaguely familiar about it, the narrow gravel paths winding around overgrown flowerbeds, the towering trees, the infrequent benches scattered about. 

“Why?” Pidge asked, “you think you’ve been here before.” 

“I dunno,” Lance hummed, “I’m definitely getting a sense of déja vu, though,” 

“Hm,” Pidge hummed thoughtfully, staring at Lance for a moment before turning to Keith and Hunk who walked a couple paces ahead of them, “Hey Keith, what is this place?” 

Keith looked over his shoulder as he replied lazily, “some old family estate. It was abandoned years ago, and the gardens have been left unattended since.” 

“That’s a shame, this place seems like it would be really nice if someone took care of it.” Hunk muttered sadly, reaching his hand out and allowing his fingers to brush over some particularly high growing plants as he walked past. 

“Why’d they abandon the place?” Lance asked, “they go broke or something?”

”Some people say that,” Keith replied with a shrug, “others say the house was haunted.” 

At the mention of possible ghosts Hunk almost immediately turned a shocking shade of grey, head slowly turning to face Keith with an expression of abject horror. “It what now?” He breathed. 

Keith turned to Hunk with a careless look, but the corner of his mouth twitched with the ghost of a smirk. “Yeah, the old family that lived there used to dabble in dark magic. Apparently one day they summoned something too powerful for even them to manage and they had to flee the town.” 

“Dude…” Hunk huffed, “why are we on these guys’ land? If they had to leave to escape the ghost shouldn’t we stay far away?” 

“You seriously believe that crap, Hunk?” Lance snorted, reaching over to Pidge to steal a sip of her drink. She would have argued back if she had the energy, the heat making her complicit. She only watched Lance’s sipping with a tired glare. 

“Hey, don’t talk so lightly about the supernatural. There could be ghosts anywhere…” 

Lance looked at Keith. “There’s one with us right now.” 

Hunk shivered. “Not funny, man,” 

Keith turned to glance at Lance, skin pale and glossy from sweat, eyes bright with life yet dark from fatigue, frown on his lips that so rarely smiled but when they did Lance counted it a blessing. Lance reminded himself it really was a blessing that he could see a smile on those lips, that he could see those lips at all outside of the one picture he had of Keith before he travelled back in time.

It was a picture from their yearbook, a group photo of their class. Keith hadn’t been around when they had their individual pictures taken, it was some time in early May. Lance still remembered the whispers around the students when it came to designing the yearbook. The committee couldn’t decide whether or not to include a profile of Keith in the book seeing as they didn’t have any pictures and the fat that he had died a month prior. Eventually they settled for a brief note at the end in memory of him. Lance thought he would have done it differently himself. 

In the end the only picture of Keith in the yearbook was a group photo from the beginning of the year. There was so many of them, the photo zoomed out so much that Keith’s eyes were nothing more than small, black dots. Still, Lance would still stare into those eyes every day for months. Eventually it became weekly, then every so often, then on particularly bad days. Lance didn’t know hat he was hoping to find staring into the tiny, blurry eyes of yearbook Keith, but nonetheless he always found himself feeling a bit more settled afterwards. 

Now Lance looked up and locked eyes with the real things. Two bright, indigo, living eyes that bore suspiciously into his own and asked their own questions, had their own intentions. Lance, though he felt something heavy in his chest, couldn’t help but smile before skipping up to hook an arm over Keith’s shoulders. 

“It’s not a joke,” Lance hummed, poking Keith’s clammy cheek with his finger, “look how pale this guy’s skin is. He’s definitely a ghost.”

”If I was a ghost I would haunt literally anybody but you…” Keith grumbled. 

“I’d haunt you,” Lance replied with a toothy grin, “that way I could annoy you for the rest of your life.” 

Keith looked at Lance with a complicated expression, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. But then his eyes softened into a smile as he looked away with a roll of his eyes. “Something tells me you’ll do that whether or not you’re a ghost.” 

Lance smiled. “Well, I’lll try my best to live up to your expectations.” 

Chapter Text

April 30th, Saturday

11 days

Another few minutes of walking and battling overgrown shrubbery the four finally found themselves where Keith was trying to lead them. They were making their way down a tree covered path and Lance could hear the faint trickling of water growing closer. He looked up, squinting at the bright spring sun. The sky had cleared up, speckled light peaking through the canopy leaves above Lance and dancing across his face. Lance felt the prickles of warmth from the sunlight on his skin, closing his eyes and taking in the sensation with a sigh. Lance thought to himself that this would be one of those days that in the future he would look back on with a bittersweet nostalgia. It was nice to be able to enjoy the moment in the present knowing now how much he was going to miss it some day. He finally pulled himself back to the moment, looking ahead to see Pidge and Hunk skipping ahead with eager bounces. Just before them was Keith, glancing back over his shoulder to Lance, an easy yet expectant look on his face. Lance thought that this expression was something he would look back on too. 

Keith gave Lance a small smile. “You good?” 

Lance shrugged. “Just taking it all in.” 

Keith didn’t seem like he completely understood what Lance meant but he shrugged lazily and turned around to follow Pidge and Hunk who had skipped ahead to turn around a bend. Whatever was around that bend seemed to have been worth it, the two of them letting out an excited shriek and promptly taking off out of Lance’s sight. 

When Lance turned the bend himself he felt like their reaction was rather justified, an unconscious gasp leaving his mouth as he stepped out into a rather cosy looking forest clearing. The water Lance had heard trickling was coming from the river that was cutting through the opening, the grass around it lush and green and incredibly soft looking. The sun cut through the opening in the canopy, though there was enough shade to not be completely cooked by the heat. Lance almost wanted to cry at the sight, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. Hunk and Pidge threw their things on the ground just as Lance did, all of them immediately taking off towards the water with a chorus of battle cries. It was only a matter of seconds before the three of them were completely soaked to the skin, the relief from the heat heavenly. Pidge’s glasses were dropped in the commotion prompting an urgent rescue mission, though after she safely secured them in her bag she was quick to run back to the water, blurred vision not even slightly deterring her. 

Lance noticed how Keith was slow to follow them in, standing by the waters edge with an absentminded smile just barely showing on his face. Weighted down by soggy jeans and shoes full of water, Lance trudged towards Keith with a crooked smirk. 

“Not joining us, Kogane? The water’s awfully nice,” Lance practically sang, noting the shift in Keith’s body language. 

“No, uh, I’m fine just watching from here.” Keith’s shoulders tensed as he shuffled away from Lance, who continued to slowly stalk closer. 

“But you seem warm, too warm. Why don’t you cool off with us?” Lance teased, reaching out and wiggling his dripping fingers in Keith’s face. 

Pidge, who seemed to materialise out of nowhere, was suddenly curling around Keith’s other side with a wicked grin of her own. “Yeah, come on Keith. You don’t want us to have all the fun, do you?” 

Keith’s face darkened into a cautious glare. “You two better not…” 

“Oh come on you guys,” Hunk called from where he waded in the river, “if Keith doesn’t wanna come in he doesn’t have to!” 

All it took was a brief glance in each other’s direction for Pidge and Lance to understand each other. In the next moment they were both pouncing toward Keith, who was a lot more observant than Lance gave him credit for. Keith jumped out of the way, taking off further away from the river and back toward the clearing. The three of them circled each other for a couple minutes, sopping clothes weighing Lance and Pidge down significantly. However it wasn’t too long before the heat caught up to Keith, who didn’t have the advantage of the cool river on his side, a bead of sweat rolling down past his eyes which burned with a competitive determination. After a while Pidge gad given up and collapsed into the grass in defeat. Lance however managed to back him up into somewhat of a corner, a thick wall of bushes acting as a barrier which Keith couldn’t evade. 

“Give it up, pretty boy. I’ve got you cornered.” Lance hummed with satisfaction. 

“I– what? Pretty boy?” Keith blanched for a moment, visibly allowing himself to get distracted for long enough for Lance to leap forward and tackle him. Keith let out a loud groan as Lance landed on him, the two of them tumbling to the ground in a heap of yelps. It wasn’t long before things got heated between the boys, the two of them rolling around and pulling at each other's clothes and hair, Lance’s hand at some stage slapping onto Keith’s cheek in an attempt to push him away. Lance and Keith’s brawl was eventually abandoned by Pidge and Hunk, who sat by the river's edge with a can of soda each as they chatted idly together. 

After what felt like forever under the intense summer sun, a winner was finally decided between the two. Hands slippery from what could either be from the river or sweat, Lance’s attempt to shove Keith resulted in his hand simply gliding over Keith’s arm, Keith taking the opportunity to grab Lance’s forearms and folding them over Lance’s head. He climbed on top of Lance, straddling his waist and completely pinning Lance flat to the grass, and while Lance’s legs weren’t pinned down he could find the energy to do anything but weakly kick once or twice before conceding. From overhead, Keith flashed a satisfied smirk down at Lance, deep breath being dragged from his mouth and pushed out through clenched teeth. Lance lay limp under him, chest heaving with shivering exhausted breaths but an inebriated smile was splayed across his tired face. The two didn’t move for a moment, and Lance found himself not wanting to move, whether it was to catch his breath or some other reason Lance wasn’t quite sure. A bead of what could have been sweat or water, Lance wasn’t sure and honestly didn’t quite care, rolled down Keith’s nose and softly dropped on Lance’s cheek, a movement that seemed to snap Keith of some sort of trance. His grip around Lance’s wrists loosened, and while Lance normally would have used this to take advantage of the fight, he found his limbs cemented still. He only watched silently as Keith rolled over to instead collapse on the cool grass beside him, both of them staring up at the tree canopy that gave them shade. Lance’s fingers seemed to move of their own accord, sweeping the surface of his cheek where he could almost still feel the drop burning into his skin. 

“How about we call that one a draw?” Lance mumbled in a daze. 

Keith snorted weakly beside him. “Sure.” 

Hunk and Pidge eventually dragged Lance back to his feet, and, with enough coaxing, lured Keith into the water too. After a couple hours of splashing and an obscene number of chicken fights (Pidge and Keith always seemed to win despite Lance and Hunk’s height advantage), all four found themselves collapsed on the edge of the river, Pidge and Hunk eventually managing to drift to sleep. Lance lay still, his eyes closed yet not quite sleeping, Keith being suspiciously quiet by his side. 

“You’re staring at me, aren’t you, Kogane?”

“I– uh…” 

Lance smirked, one eye twitching open to glance over at Keith laying beside him, whose guilty expression had Lance’s chest swelling with satisfaction. Lance shut his eyes again, almost forgetting himself in the blanket of the sun’s heat before urging himself to speak again. If he didn’t he would definitely fall asleep like Pidge and Hunk. 

“What’re you thinking?” Lance mumbled. 

There was a sound of fabric shifting beside Lance before Keith spoke. “There’s something I wanted you to see.” 

Lance opened his eyes again to see Keith sitting up now, a complicated and deliberating expression on his face. Though reluctant to leave the grassy bed he had made for himself, Lance almost instantly sat up. 

“What is it?” 

“We’ll have to walk for a bit.” 

Lance shrugged, jumping to his feet with a grunt. “Well, we’ve got nothing but time.” He glanced down to Pidge and Hunk. “Should we wake the others?” 

Keith paused, though not as if he were thinking but rather stalling, like he was embarrassed by the response he wanted to give. That was really all Lance needed. He found himself quite adept at reading Keith’s body language, which came in use considering Keith didn’t often voice his opinion. He just stood there, either brooding or silently approving. Lance could usually tell the difference. 

“Leave ‘em, they seem comfy.” Lance shrugged, and with an encouraging nod followed Keith back through the trees. 

This walk didn’t take nearly as long as the trip from the main street to the river, though it was much more overgrown too. Keith had to guide Lance over fallen trees and under walls of vines, pointing out easy to trip over roots and particularly prickly bushes so Lance could avoid any injury. Lance thought it was a miracle that they reached their destination without Lance falling over at least once, though maybe it was thanks to Keith’s almost obtrusively watchful eye over each step he took. Eventually, another clearing. 

“I’ve never shown anyone this place but…” Keith muttered, carefully stepping over what Lance hoped was the final protruding tree root, “I wanted to show you.”

Lance slowly followed Keith’s movements, finally stepping out onto flat ground. This clearing was a lot smaller than the one they were just in, more secluded too, with a canopy of trees almost entirely filtering out the sunlight. All except for one beam that shone down like a spotlight ready to illuminate its main character. Lance froze. 

“I always come here when I’m upset or mad, it helps me clear my mind. I don’t know why, it's quiet, peaceful. Nobody else comes here, I don’t think anyone else even knows it exists.” Keith muttered softly, taking a step further into the clearing. 

Lance grabbed Keith’s wrist. Keith seemed surprised for a moment, a touch embarrassed or flustered as he looked down at Lance’s hand on his own. But then Lance’s grip grew tighter and tighter, his hands trembled, and when Keith looked up at Lance’s face it was the last thing he was expecting to see. Not awe or wonder, but fear. 

“Lance?” Keith’s voice was laced with worry as he turned to look from Lance to the clearing and then back to Lance. “What is it?” 

“I–” Lance started, wanting to look at Keith but finding his entire body frozen in shock. All he could do is look, unable to will himself to even blink. A sole beam of light broke through the canopy, illuminating a small stone bridge that was all too familiar to Lance. It was no longer deja vu that Lance felt, it was horror. Lance’s other hand came to grip Keith’s arm too, grip tight enough that it could bruise. 

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith insisted, stepping in front of Lance and blocking out the view of anything but him. 

Lance could breath, he hadn’t even realised he had stopped in the first place. His grip relaxed, his mind was at ease and Lance could finally speak again. “Sorry.” He let go of Keith. 

Keith sighed, still standing awfully tense in front of Lance. “Geez, man, you scared the shit out of me…” 

Lance glanced behind Keith, at the peek of sunlight and the hunt of stone just over his shoulder. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place…”

Keith frowned, throwing a look over his own shoulder. “I’ve been here countless times Lance, there’s nothing funny about it.” 

Keith slowly stepped away from Lance and made to move towards the bridge again. Lance felt himself go rigid again, like the sight of the bridge was paralyzing him. 

“Why don’t we admire it from here?” Lance choked out and Keith shot him a helpless look. 

“Don’t you… don’t you wanna stand on it?” 

Seeing Keith’s disappointment was miraculously enough for Lance to muster up the courage to take a few shaky steps toward the bridge. “Do you know if this thing is structurally sound?” Lance shakily asked, stomach sinking with the phantom sensation of falling. 

Keith only scoffed, “Yeah, I’ve been here plenty of times.” 

Lance cringed, moving at a painfully slow pace to which Keith gave a considerable amount of patience. When Lance finally did reach the bridge, shoe brushing against the gravelly ground, he was hit with a vicious wave of vertigo that had him reaching out for something to help hold him up. But then he was reaching out for the wall for support, and the image of a vanishing wall and a several meter plummet flashed through his mind and Lance was turning to find something, anything else for support. His hands landed on a warm set of shoulders as hands hurried to grab his arms and hold him up. 

“Lance? What’s wrong!?” Keith’s hands cupped Lance’s elbows, using all of his strength to hold him. 

Lance, after a moment of willing himself to calm down, grabbed Keith’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. He was beginning to like that eyes more and more every day, and the thought of them not being there, the memory of them not being there, was dreadful enough for Lance to sober up and bite out through clenched teeth. 

“Don’t come back here again.” Lance hissed. 

Keith frowned. “What?” 

“Never come back here again Keith, promise me. Don’t do it.”

“Lance, what the hell is wrong?” 

“Listen to me, I don’t care where you go when you’re upset, just don’t come here. If you’re mad or upset or anything, just come to me from now on. Just don't come here, okay?”

Keith was quiet for a moment, staring at Lance with nothing less than bewilderment. But his lip twitched into a small smile, and his eyes softened into a soft sort of joy that Lance didn’t want to focus on right then. 

“Okay?” Lance barked and Keith flinched. 

“Well where am I supposed to go if I’m mad at you?” 

“Keith!”

“Right! Okay, okay.” 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise.” 

Lance nodded slowly. “Good…” 

The two of them stood in silence for a moment, the faint sound of water trickling from beneath the bridge making Lance grow more anxious by the moment. He wanted to leave, to run as fast as he could from the damn place. Yet, at the same time he felt quite comfortable, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on why until Keith’s hands slipped from his arms and Lance was left feeling oddly cold despite the abnormal heatwave. 

“We should head back to the others.” Keith finally spoke. 

“Oh, right.” Lance breathed back. 

They began the quiet trek back to the other clearing, this trip just as quiet as the other yet with something different in the air. Lance’s head was in the clouds, images of bridges and falling and indigo flashing through his mind so much they distracted him from the uneven path before him. It was only a matter of time before Lance fell of course, his shoe catching in a protruding log and sending him toppling to the ground. Before the horrible sensation of falling could wash over Lance however, two warm arms were catching him yet again and pulling him back to his feet. 

“You are a mess today…” Keith sighed as Lance clutched onto him for support as he adjusted himself. 

“You’re no ballerina yourself.” Lance scoffed. 

“Oh really?” Keith scoffed, though his hands were gentle as they slipped from Lance’s forearms to his palms, holding securely onto Lance’s hands before stepping back to guide him over the roots. “Okay?”  

Lance frowned down at where his hands were in Keith’s, the pale of his skin pleasantly shocking against the tan of his own. Keith saw Lance’s frown and moved to pull his hands away, and as though it were a reflexive response Lance’s grip tightened instead. Keith blinked up at Lance with pursed lips. 

“Just… until we get back to the others,” Lance muttered, and feeling as though he needed to defend himself added, “so I don’t fall and make an idiot of myself.” 

Keith managed a weak smile. “Again.” 

“Whatever.” Lance scoffed. He was ready to continue arguing with Keith but he was already turning around, letting go of one of Lance’s hands while the other remained, warm and secure as he guided Lance through the brush. 

When they arrived back to where they had left Pidge and Hunk, Keith released Lance’s hand just as planned. The feeling of Keith’s hand leaving his own was… cold. If anything it was cold, a cold that Lance wasn’t too fond of. He had the urge to reach out and take Keith’s hand again, though he just about managed to suppress it and instead followed behind Keith from a reasonable distance. Hunk and Pidge seemed to have just woken up, and after a few teasing comments had stood up and began packing up to go. Lance was quite happy to busy himself with packing too, working up yet another sweat that had him wanting to dive into the river again. Though, despite the heat, the cold feeling in his hand never seemed to go away.

May 2nd, Monday

9 days

Lance woke up on Monday and found he couldn’t quite get himself to smile like he usually did. He still got up on time, kissed his mother goodbye, walked to school with his sisters and arrived on time for his morning tutoring with Shiro, but he couldn’t find the energy to fuss over his hair or debate with his sisters or joke around with Shiro as he usually did. Instead, he trudged along like a zombie, autopiloting his way through his morning routine as a sharp stab of a reminder constantly rang out in his mind. 

As Lance walked into the homeroom and took his usual seat across from Shiro, the corner of his eye caught the words scrawled across the entire length of the blackboard that made his stomach churn and his heart freeze for a moment. Lance gave Shiro a distant smile, thoughts completely elsewhere as he pulled out his books and set them up on his table. Shiro glanced at Lance, giving him a double take at the rather morbid expression on Lance’s face.

“You good, Lance?” Shiro hummed in that sweet brotherly way that made Lance confess things he would regret immediately afterwards. 

Today, of course, being no exception as Lance glanced towards the blackboard, thick white lettering displaying the countdown to the most dreaded day of his life. 

10 DAYS TO GO!

“I have to do something,” Lance said simply, vaguely, “but I don’t know how to do it. I don’t even know what exactly I have to do. And I’m running out of time to do it.” 

“I see…” Shiro hummed, crossing his arms over his chest with a contemplative pout. “And… is this a personal thing you have to do?”

“Personal,” Lance answered, and then debated it for a moment, “I guess?”

Shiro nodded, trying to work with the sparse details he received. Lance couldn’t give him any more details and Shiro seemed well aware, respecting people’s boundaries always being something that Lance deeply respected about Shiro. 

“Well, I suppose it’s the result that matters more than the actual thing,” Lance elaborated and Shiro nodded along, carefully considering the new details. 

“You’ve been working on this for a while?” Shiro asked. 

“Nearly a month now…” Lance muttered back. 

Shiro seemed to realise something then in that moment, his serious smoulder melting into a half-smile. He pinched his chin as he leaned back in his chair now, giving himself a few small nods before looking at Lance again. “Well, if you’ve been working towards it all this time I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Lance perked up a fraction. “You think?” 

“Of course,” Shiro shrugged. 

Lance sighed, sinking into his chair. “But I feel like I’ve been letting other things distract me.” 

Shiro shook his head and straightened up in his seat, looking at Lance with that face that made him seem like a mentor rather than a peer. “You can’t let yourself be completely absorbed in one task. Even if one seems more important than everything else, you have to know when to give your energy to something new, and when to take a break. No one task is more important than the other. I’ve only learned that myself quite recently…”

“I suppose,” 

“Haven’t you noticed progress already?”

When Lance thought about it, the progress he made was undeniable. He spent almost every day with Keith now, their time spent together even leaking into his weekends whether he wanted it or not. Keith spoke more to his other classmates, he was almost never brooding around the school alone, he even walked home with friends most days. Lance felt the knot in his stomach finally loosen up and he even dared to smile as he looked at Shiro. 

“Yeah, I guess I have,” 

Shiro beamed, stretching over Lance’s desk and tapping the notebook that was open in front of him. “So have I! You didn’t even know what a quadratic function was before a couple weeks ago and now you can recite proofs with your eyes closed!” 

Lance blinked at Shiro, smile twitching awkwardly as he took in Shiro’s proud grin. It took Lance a couple of slow ticks to realise Shiro had thought he was talking about studying, and before Lance could catch up and play along Shiro was already shrinking back with a sheepish laugh. 

“You weren’t talking about your grades, were you?” 

“No!” Lance stuttered, “I was! I was, you know, quadratics and uh, and simultaneous… things…” Lance trailed off, quickly flipping through his notes to see if he could find some inspiration for his lie, but Shiro had already admitted defeat. Lance glanced at Shiro, his embarrassed flush, and let out a snort. “Well, even if I wasn’t talking about my grades your advice was actually pretty great.” 

Shiro relaxed a pinch, smiling weakly at Lance. “Glad I could help, Lance.” 

 Soon Lance and Shiro were back to Shiro’s favourite thing in the world, revision. Shiro wasn’t exactly wrong, Lance could recite proofs just as easily as he could recite his family member’s names or Hunk’s favourite sandwich toppings. Their designated half hour breezed by now that Lance wasn’t struggling with every single question Shiro presented him with. It wasn’t too long before the first early bird arrived, a set of tentative footsteps creeping into the classroom, hoping to go by unnoticed. 

Shiro glanced up for a second before quickly doing a double take. His face lit up in a fraction of a second as he called out, “You don’t have to sneak around, Curtis. We’re nearly finished up here anyway.” 

Lance turned to spot Curtis mid-tiptoe as he attempted to creep towards the desk at the top of the class. His face burned up in a second and Curtis quickly composed himself again. “Sorry to disturb, I’m just making a few copies of the itinerary, I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” 

Lance straightened up in his seat, appreciating the stretch after being hunched over his work for so long. “It’s fine. Shiro, you can go if you want.”

“No!” Curtis cut in, “I’m fine, really.” Curtis snatched the papers up and began to rush towards the door, “Get back to your study, I’ll get you two a drink for working so hard.” 

Lance blinked awkwardly up at Curtis as he scurried out the door again. He snorted a quick “thanks,” though he was pretty sure Curtis was already out of hearing range by the time he got the word out. 

Curtis’ arrival seemed to mark the end of the study session, Lance and Shiro slowly beginning to pack their books away. There was a small, absentminded smile on Shiro’s lips as he packed his things and Lance couldn’t help but smile even brighter. 

“Things seem to be going well for you two,” Lance said as he tossed his packed bag aside. 

“Yeah,” Shiro practically swooned, “it’s going pretty great actually.” 

“What’d you guys do on Saturday?” Lance asked.

“We went to see a movie, then we got some food in that café on Aruvian street, you know the one with the lion murals inside.” Lance nodded as Shiro explained. “And then, you know, we just walked around and got to know each other a bit more. He said he thinks his sister would love me,”

Lance cooed, “Oh, if he says his family would like you then you’re definitely in,”

Shiro gave a dismissive snort, but Lance didn’t miss the excitement in his smile. And then Lance was left with a silence too long, a silence that let him think freely the way he did when he was with Shiro, and he started to wonder things that he wouldn’t dare wonder with anyone else.

“Shiro,” 

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a sort of… personal question?” 

Shiro, who had been lost in his own dreamy thoughts, looked back to Lance with an easy curiosity. 

“How did you know you liked boys?” Lance mumbled and Shiro looked back at him in a way that made Lance think Shiro had been waiting for it. 

Shiro smiled, crossing his arms over his chest and staring ahead at the chalkboard at the top of the class. “I suppose I’ve always known,” Shiro said and Lance frowned, “but it’s different for everyone, you know?” 

“I guess.” 

“Growing up I always liked boys more than girls, I guess I just didn’t realise what it meant until I started getting older and my friends all started dating. I didn’t understand why my friends all wanted to hang out with the girls all of a sudden, but I figured I would reach a certain age and it would all come together, but…” 

“But I’ve had crushes on girls,” Lance spoke up and immediately wanted to bury himself in the ground. But Shiro only turned and smiled reassuringly at Lance.

“It’s not just gay or straight, Lance, sexuality is a spectrum. It’s hard to realise for some people, especially for people who fall into that grey area. Just because you might have a more obvious preference to one gender doesn’t mean your attraction to the other gender is invalid.” Shiro spoke with a pleasant warmth and Lance found himself nodding along to his words as he spoke them. “Plus, you’re not gonna like every guy you meet, just like you don’t like every girl you know, like Allura or Pidge.” 

Lance nodded along quietly. “That makes sense,” Lance murmured, eyes falling to his hands where he anxiously scratched at his nail beds. 

“You know, my first crush I had on a guy,” Shiro began again and Lance looked up to see a sheepish smile twitching at his lips. There was a laugh buried beneath his voice as he spoke, “I had no idea. He was a friend. But one day he started to date this girl. I thought I was jealous of him, so I started acting like a jerk to him, picking fights, bickering. But then I saw him kissing his girlfriend and I felt sick, and that’s when I realised I wasn’t jealous of him.” 

“You were jealous of her.”  Lance looked up at Shiro whose smile was quietly knowing and Lance felt dizzy. 

By some sort of divine intervention, the classroom door swung open and Curtis waltzed in. Lance immediately shut his mouth, trying to make his heart calm down in his chest while his brain began to melt. Lance just about managed to thank Curtis for the drink he bought for him, forcing down painfully large gulps as if it could distract him. It wasn’t too long then before the other students began to arrive, his own friends arriving to have a chance to speak before their designated hour of manual labour. Keith arrived alongside Pidge and Matt soon after the other crowd, the three coming to take chairs surrounding Lance and Shrio’s makeshift study spot. Keith took the seat across from Lance, foot accidentally knocking against Lance’s ankle. Lance pulled his foot towards himself in a sudden jerk, as if Keith’s touch had been scorching hot. 

Keith gave him an odd look. “You good?” 

Lance nodded stiffly. Shiro had the decency to strike up a conversation with the others and give Lance the illusion of privacy. Lance looked at Keith, at the  withdrawn frown on his lips, at the air around him that always seemed to switch between pulling Lance closer or forcing him away. And then Keith looked at Lance, Lance was staring and doing a poor job of hiding it. Lance felt a sharp tug at his navel, the same feeling he felt when Keith would shove him or hit him and yet the same feeling he felt when Keith would smile one of those rare Keith smiles at him. The same feeling he felt when Keith hit James for him, when Keith told him he’d never been kissed, when they whispered to each other in the Holt’s kitchen when everyone else was asleep and Lance wanted to tell Keith every secret he’d ever kept. Lance felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, like he was falling into a hole with no chance of ever resurfacing. 

Oh god, Lance thought. I like Keith.