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Lance fumbled for the key to his apartment as cool rain water dripped down his nose. “Hurry!” Keith urged, hugging his bare arms tightly to his chest in an attempt to shelter them from the bitter cold. Finally Lance was able to untangle the keys from his ear buds and he jammed it into the lock before jerking it sharply and pushing the door wide open.
The two boys rushed eagerly into the apartment. Lance kicked his wet shoes off and hurried down a hallway. “Take your shoes off too, Hunk will have my head if he comes back from his class to muddy footprints everywhere,” he called over his shoulder as he messed with the thermostat, cranking it up to what his roommate would probably deem an unreasonable temperature. He’ll just have to deal with it, it feels like negative one hundred degrees outside, Lance thought to himself as he turned the dial.
He returned to the front entry to find Keith standing awkwardly in his socks, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Oh sorry, my room's down that way,” Lance pointed down the hallway he had come from, “It’s the door at the end. I'm going to grab some fresh towels from the laundry room. You can borrow some of my clothes while we stick these in the dryer,” he added pinching the collar of his now soaked shirt.
Keith nodded his head, “Thanks,” his face twisted into an expression of discomfort, “Wet skinny jeans aren't one of the most pleasant feelings in the world.”
Lance laughed at this, “I know the feeling, man. Alright, I'll be right there!” He grabbed two fluffy white towels from the top of a stack in the laundry room- God bless Hunk for making him help clean the apartment and for doing laundry yesterday- and joined Keith in his bedroom. He found the Korean boy standing next to his desk holding a picture frame he had picked up.
“Is this your family?”
Lance rested his elbow on Keith's shoulder. “Yep, that's me on the left,” he said, pointing to a boy, a little shorter than Lance was now, but impossible to mistake for anyone else. “I was 16 when this picture was taken.”
“Are all these other kids your siblings?”
“Most of them are, a couple are cousins. He began to point at various people in the photo. “That's my older sister, Alyssa, she's 24 now, my younger brothers Luis and Alex, they're twins, they're both 16 now, and that's my youngest sister, Isabel, she turns 14 next month.” He pointed at a shorter couple near the right of the photo, “My tío and tía lived near us growing up as well so we were very close. They have a son and a daughter, Marco and Atala. Marco is 14 like Isabel, and Atala is 9, the baby of the family,” he added fondly, indicating two more kids.
Keith pointed to the remaining two people Lance hadn't mentioned. One was a very tall man with Lance's messy brown hair and wide grin. The other was a much shorter women, the third shortest in the photo behind Atala and Isabel. She had a bright twinkle in her eyes and dimples that remind Keith of Lance. “Your parents?”
Lance's smile grew wider, “Yup! The best ones in the world, hands down!”
“I’m sure they are,” Keith said quietly, almost to himself. His eyes left the picture and found his socked feet. He stared hard, seeming to find his toes fascinating. Lance babbled on for a few more seconds about his parents before he picked up on the sudden quietness and his face fell.
“...Oh, right, I’m sorry, your parents… aren't around anymore... right?” Keith shook his head a little, still not lifting his head. “We could- or I mean... did you want to talk about it?” Lance asked softly.
Keith cleared his throat and lifted his head at last. “Could we just get changed now, my hair’s going to start dripping on your floors soon.” His voice was still a little hoarse
“Of course, let me see if I can find something for you,” Lance tossed him one of the towels and opened one of his dresser drawers. He felt a little stupid. Of course Keith wouldn’t want to talk about his dead parents, especially not after he had gone on and on about how great his ALIVE and WELL parents are! ...Especially not with Lance in general. Lance shook his head a little to shove his embarrassment aside. “Here, I have some sweats and a T-shirt that should fit you fairly well,” he said, handing the bundle of clothes to Keith.
Keith nodded in thanks. “Bathroom’s on the left?” He sounded normal now, unaffected by the awkwardness from a moment before.
"Yea, knock before you come in when you’re finished, I’m going to change in here,” Lance added, inwardly blushing at the thought of Keith walking in on him. Keith gave another simple nod before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Lance alone with his many, MANY, thoughts. He waited until he heard the bathroom door close in the hallway before he fell backwards onto his bed with a groan of despair. What is he DOING? He wants this boy to like him, not make him think he’s an insensitive asshat! Bringing up someone’s dead parents will definitely make them like you. God, he’s normally so smooth, what is it about this boy that made Lance so awkward and flustered? “It’s because I’m so totally screwed,” Lance reminded himself in a whisper, pressing his palms against his eyes and curling his knees up to his chest.
After a minute of staying curled up like this and trying to calm his erratic heartbeat, Lance pulled himself to his feet. He dug through his dresser drawers and pulled out some Nike basketball shorts and a tank top. A tank top that I look great in, Lance thought to himself with a smirk. He had changed into the shorts and was just pulling off his shirt when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” He called as he threw his shirt into the hamper, almost hitting Keith in the face as he opened door.
“What the fuck, Lance!?” he yelped as the wet shirt flew past him. He turned to tell the other boy off some more but froze when he realized that Lance had yet to put on a clean shirt. His eyes trailed over the tall boy’s torso, cheeks growing hot. “Put on a shirt, idiot” he said gruffly, turning away to hide his blush. How does he look so good? All he does is eat Doritos, no one can be that fit with that diet!
“What? Like what you see?” Lance teased but panicked a little inside. Why would you say that, you idiot? How is he even supposed to respond to that??
A scoff, “You wish!” Hell yea, I do!
“You wound me.” I definitely wish.
“Just put on your shirt already.” Like you’d even want me to tell the truth. It’s not like it’d get me anywhere, you’d probably just reject me.
Lance finished getting dressed and sat on the end of his bed, crossing his legs in front of him. He patted the bed beside him, inviting Keith to sit down. The slightly shorter boy, who’s blush had thankfully died down, obliged, sitting about a foot away and folding his legs up like Lance had. After a minute of comfortable silence, Lance opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it, thinking better of it.
“You don’t have to apologize for talking about your parents,” Keith said, breaking the silence.
“How did you know that’s what I was going to say?” Lance asked, startled and staring at the other boy.
“It’s what everyone does after remembering my… situation,” Keith explained, “Look, parents can be kind of a sore spot but that doesn’t mean you have to tiptoe around me, you’re welcome to talk about your parents. I like hearing about your family.” His eyes hardened, “But I’m tired of everyone pitying me, it doesn’t bring my parents back.”
Lance nodded in understanding. “I get that. I am sorry if it seemed like I was pushing you to talk about it though,” he added after a moment’s pause.
“Don’t worry about it,” Keith sighed, “You kinda deserve the full story anyway.”
“No, you don’t ha-”
“Seriously, Lance, it’s fine,” Keith cut him off, “I don’t mind talking about it all that much, I mean it hurts a little, but mostly what bothers me is how people treat me afterwards. They treat me like cracked glass that is just waiting to shatter at any second.” He suddenly turned to Lance, staring straight into his blue eyes. Damn, what pretty eyes they were. “Just… don’t change around me, I’m not fragile. Just keep joking with me and challenging me at every ridiculous thing you possibly can and teasing me about my hair and gloves or whatever, just don’t change,” he said, all in one breath, “...Please.”
“I won’t,” Lance whispered, eyes wide in surprise at the sudden outburst. Keith nodded a little, turned away from Lance once again. He lay back on Lances blue bedspread, picking at a loose thread with one hand as he turned on his side.
“My parents both died in a car crash when I was 9 years old. Some crazy driver in a pickup ran a red light at 70 miles per hour and T-boned our car from the left. I was in the back right seat so somehow I got away with only minor injuries. The police said I should have been a lot more hurt based on speed and positioning and stuff, I don’t know all the details,” Keith shrugged. “My father was driving so he was hit directly and was killed on impact. My mother,” he paused to swallow, “My mom broke her neck and was knocked out. The emergency response workers had her airlifted by helicopter to the nearest intensive care hospital. She was in the hospital for two days, unconscious the whole time before she died. There was nothing the doctors could do for her.” Lance leaned back on the bed, mimicking Keith’s position to face him. “They never even let me in to see her before she passed away. They just had me stay in the hospital’s child care facility until they could figure out what to do with me.”
“Didn’t you have any relatives you could’ve stayed with?”
“No, neither of my parents had any siblings and my grandma on my dad’s side passed away when my dad was 19. My mom’s parents on the other hand,” his voice grew bitter, “Are alive and well, or at least they were at the time, I’m not exactly in touch with them. They always hated my dad, he was only half Korean and not as high up in society as my mom’s family was. My dad ruined their ‘perfect Korean family’ image so they kicked my mother out without a dollar for food,” he scoffed, scowling at the bed between them. “The hospital managed to track them down in Korea and called them up, asking if they would assume custody of their disappointment of a grandson. Obviously they didn’t want anything to do with me so they shoved me into the wonderfully welcoming adoption system of America.”
“That must have been tough,” Lance murmured, watching the hardened violet gaze that glared off into the space in front of it.
“Yea, being an older kid in the system definitely wasn’t fun,” He rubbed his hands over his eyes, seeming tired. “I was fostered a few times but none of them lasted for more than a year or so until the last one. Each of the families found a new, younger, less problematic kid to foster and sent me back to the home. Then, when I was 15, the Shiroganes decided to take me in,” Keith’s eyes softened at the name. “It was just Shiro and his mom, his’s father had passed away a few years prior, but they really turned my life around. Shiro was a senior in highschool while I was a sophomore. I think just having people around me that weren’t constantly trying to ‘fix’ me is what helped the most.” He chuckled, “It’s funny that that’s what actually ended up fixing me. At all the schools that my other foster parents would put me in, I had a tendency to pick fights. I guess I was mostly angry. Angry that my parents had died and left me alone. Angry that everyone tried to tell me what I felt instead of actually trying to understand. Angry that no one wanted me around…” His voice cracked a little at the last point.
Lance placed his hand on top of Keith’s palm which rested on the bed between them. It was cold and smooth to the touch. He had removed his fingerless gloves since they had been soaked in the downpour, leaving his pale hands bare. Lance realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he had rarely seen Keith without his gloves. He has nice hands. “Hey, we want you around now, so there’s no need to ever feel that way again,” He said, his voice coming out surprisingly steady.
Keith gave him a small smile. A rare sight to see but more common as of late. “Thanks to the Shiroganes and all of you guys, I haven’t felt that way in a long time. As I was saying, Shiro and his mom were really the best support I had had. I was always treated as a part of the family and never as something that should be forever unquestioningly grateful and in their debt, though I kind of am. I could never pay them back for all they did. They always supported my interests and helped start my college fund. Shiro even helped me pick out and pay for my first bike. If it weren’t for them,” he paused and thought for a minute, “Actually I can’t even imagine where I’d be right now. Not here that’s for sure.”
“Well I’m glad you’re here, who else would I endlessly torment about their 80’s hair style? Seriously, man, no one in this century has a mullet.” Lance said with a cheeky wink. And yet you still manage to pull it off. Keith laughed at this, a wonderful tinkling noise that seemed to brighten the room causing Lance’s inward mantra of I’m screwed, I’m screwed, I’m screwed to resume. “Anyway, I’m glad you told me.” Keith smiled again. He does that a lot around me these days… maybe he does like me more than he lets on…
“It is kind of nice to talk about with someone.” He admitted, “I’ve basically only talked about it with Shiro, and Pidge knows most of the story. Like I said, people tend to treat me differently afterward. Shiro is my brother and Pidge will always be a little shit no matter what happens so they’re both exceptions.”
Lance chuckled at this, seeming to erase the dreary mood in the room, caused by both the weather and topic of conversation. “Well, dude, I know sappiness isn’t really our thing but I think since both of us nearly cried in the last 10 minutes, I can forget that and let you know you can always talk to me.” Another huff of laughter escaped his lungs, “God, I knew that’d be cheesy before it even came out of my mouth!”
“Awww, you almost cried, what a softy you really are,” Keith teased, “Wow does the famous Lance McClain actually care about- and I’m quoting you here- ‘a lost emo stuck in 2003’ such as myself?” Though he’d never admit it, Keith wished as soon as the words left his mouth that he hadn’t said anything at all.
“Yea man, of course I do, you may be a jerky, asshole, idiotic, full of himse-”
“Get to the point”
“-Snob with a terrible mullet. But you’re one of my best friends. I obviously care about you,” he finished, not even second guessing his response. He did care about Keith; there was no reason to hide that. ...How much and in what way was a different matter.
Oh no. Keith had no idea what answer he was expecting but this was somehow a thousand times worse than what he could have imagined. Lance’s words made his heart both soar, plummet, and nearly beat out of his chest. He cares about me! I’m one of his best friends! ...But just a good friend… never anything more. Then a small glimmer of hope: Well I mean what else was he supposed to say, maybe he does like me as something more. It’s not like he could say ‘potential boyfriend’, or ‘crush’ or anything that would sound weird as fuck. Another nosedive: Nah, he’s Lance, he can pull off saying the weirdest things, plus he’s straight isn’t he? He’s picked up like a dozen girls since I've known him but as far as I’ve seen, no guys.
“Uh, Keith?” A tan hand waved in front of his blank face, interrupting his train of thought, “Dude, you okay? You’re kinda spacing out there.” Shit was that weird? Should I have joked back instead of telling the truth? God I suck at this.
Keith shook his head, clearing the thoughts away; no stupid emotions should ruin his time with Lance. “Yea, sorry, you just caught me off guard.” He became uncomfortably aware of their position on the bed. Both lying down, squished onto the Lance’s twin sized bed,, faces only a foot apart, hands resting on top of each other. How easy it would be to curl his fingers around the slightly taller boy’s warm fingers, linking them together. “I care about you too you know,” he added after a short pause. He cracked a wry smile, “Even if you are also an annoying, big headed, stuck up, egotistical frat boy.” That has a smile like the sun, a voice like music, and smells like the ocean.
The bright sound of Lance’s laughter filled the room again, causing Keith’s heart to jump into his throat. “Okay I guess I deserved that one. You know if anyone had told me when you first moved here that after a month I would be lying down on my bed with Keith Kogane talking about feelings and having a genuine heart to heart with him, I probably would have coughed up a lung from laughing so hard.”
“Well I’m glad I’ve gotten to experience the immense privilege of sharing a bed with you,” Keith teased with a wink, “I hear it’s a great place to be.” Wow why the FUCK would you say that you idiot?? Did that sound confident at least?
All coherent thoughts suddenly vanished from Lance’s head. This wasn’t FAIR, why was he so HOT? Where did that COME from?? Finally he was able to gather himself enough to muster up a response. “You know it,” he said weakly with a sheepish smile. Wait, does he like me too? Was that a joke? I mean I know he’s gay but 3 weeks ago he hated my guts. But to be fair, I also hated his guts then.
Keith’s eyes flicked between the blue eyes before him, gauging his reaction. ...Okay, he definitely seemed surprised but not completely put off or disturbed by that terrible line, perhaps there’s a chance…
The two boys lapsed into a somewhat comfortable silence. Lance admired the wispy black locks that fell over indigo eyes and porcelain skin. “You have freckles!” Lance suddenly chirped brightly in delight, breaking the quiet and causing Keith to start.
“Oh, yea” he hummed in reply absentmindedly, “they're really light though; they were a little darker when I was younger.”
“May I?” Lance asked, reaching his hand out, as if to touch the other boy's face.
“Huh? ...Oh yea I uh- of course, I guess...!” Keith stuttered over his answer, ending in an awkward sort of cough and a pink tinted complexion. Lance snorted slightly in amusement at Keith's flustered response before extending his hand forward. His fingers traced over the spots lightly, a sort of childlike wonder alight in his wide eyes. The longer he gazed at the dark-haired boy’s pale face, the more seemed to appear. One beneath his right eye, one or two on the side of his nose, a couple above his left eyebrow, a few gathered around his jawline here and there, one centered on his right earlobe. They were scattered randomly, like constellations of stars across his face. Lance's long fingers paused on a pale freckle directly centered beneath Keith's lips, so close that it almost touched the lower of the two. A tentative thumb skimmed over it like a whisper. His gaze flicked up to the deep violet eyes framed by dark lashes that peered back at him.
“What?” Keith asked voice cracking and face flushed from the close proximity and Lance's lightly wandering touch.
“This one's my favorite,” Lance murmured with what he hoped was a small confidant smirk, though he felt heat rising in his cheeks, betraying him. Instinctively he slowly moved closer until their faces were only inches apart. He felt Keith's warm breath mingle with his own and his heart hammering against his ribcage in excitement and anticipation. The Cuban boy's eyes flickered been Keith's eyes and mouth and few more times, almost seeming to ask silent permission.
What a great time now would be to scare the gorgeous boy off forever. Something twinged in the back of Lance's mind. What if he was misinterpreting everything? Maybe that pickup line-was it supposed to be a pickup line? - was just a fluke or a joke? Maybe Keith just wanted to be friends but was too polite to move away? He knew Keith was a little particular about personal space. Oh god, asking to touch his face was probably going way too far out of his comfort zone. Fuck, maybe he-
His last thought was interrupted by a pair of surprisingly soft lips pressing firmly against his own. Mild shock seemed to short circuit his brain before he could understand what had happened. Keith had closed the gap and kissed him. Keith was kissing him. Wait seriously? A full five seconds passed, though it seemed like less, before it occurred to Lance that perhaps he shouldn't let Keith do all the work. He pressed back a little more firmly, grinning against his lips and enjoying the pressure and assurance that Keith provided. He lifted a hand to the other's jaw and gently tilted his head sideways, allowing him to deepen the kiss. A shudder of pleasure ran up his spine, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up as Keith tugged slightly on his bottom lip with his teeth. He could feel Keith’s hot breath against his face as he breathed heavily against his mouth and through his nose. He tangled their legs together, craving closeness. Minutes passed and hands shifted from holding faces, to tangling into hair, to tightly gripping hips.
Lance broke the kiss first, needing to take a deep breath and process everything because holy shit it was finally happening. He blinked rapidly with a goofy, dazed sort of grin spreading across his face as he tried to determine for sure that this wasn’t just a dream. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. His eyes returned to those of the boy next to him but he only saw Keith's smile for a half of a second before his lips were suddenly entrapped again as he leaned to meet him. He melted into the kiss once more, smiling against Keith’s warm mouth and let out a happy sigh. He never wanted to leave this blissful moment.
This boy had him under his spell and Lance didn't mind at all.