Chapter Text
The soft yet anticipatory whispers of the crowd drifted to the center stage of the theater, where a performer waited patiently while he dangled, suspended from his aerial silks as he balanced precariously, long arms wrapped around his chest. His cue was coming, and his grip tightened, eyes twinkling in the darkness.
The audience knew what was coming too; it was more than likely that the majority of them had come to his show more than once, unable to resist the beauty of it all.
The narrator read through the character’s introduction and he tuned it out; this definitely was not the first time he had heard the speech. What he was truly waiting for was the line. The line that meant he could move and relish being the center of attention.
“Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi invincible été.”
The music began softly, and he shivered. As soon as the music quickened in pace, he fell to the side, using the silk as his balance. His first appearance was always powerful, and the responding “wow,” from the people sent a pleasant thrill through his chest. As he gracefully spun, he eventually let himself go to dangle from the ribbons. The crowd was in an awed silence as he worked his magic. Lance pulled himself up slowly, casting shy and flirty glances in the direction of the onlookers.
Soon, the music began to slow in tempo and Lance fought the urge to smile. This was probably his favorite part of the whole routine, and he slowly began winding himself up, the gentle touch from the silk on his bare skin a familiar feeling. Grabbing it over his head, he stared out to the crowd, a small smile gracing his features. Then, the beat dropped, and so did Lance. This part was quick and eye catching, and Lance allowed gravity to lead the way, his body expertly moving in autopilot from years of experience. He caught himself halfway down, only to slowly rewrap his body like a gift on Christmas Eve. Flipping forwards, he dropped straight down and heard audible gasps. Ignoring them, he pulled himself back up to a similar seating position not much different from how he started, and offered the audience blown kisses and sweet smiles.
Not soon after, Lance lowered himself towards the ground, and as soon as he did he cast the crowd a woeful expression, falling back. One hand held the silk while his other fell limp by his side. He twirled in lazy circles before rising once again, sliding into a slow split when he reached the ground. He bounced and rolled, spinning in ways that made the viewers dizzy with wonder. His face tugged at their heartstrings, leading them through an emotional but explosive story with no dialogue.
The show he was a part of was split into four main storylines to follow the four seasons: Winter, spring, summer, and fall. Each season had its own emotion to go along with it, and of course, each season had its own costume. For today’s show his hair was dyed white, making his ocean blue irises shine even brighter. The blue makeup that surrounded his eyes like a butterfly and covered his shoulders and navel, sparkled with silver glitter and matched the ombre cutout leotard he wore unabashedly. The makeup artists really outdid themselves this time; were the teal symbols painted delicately on his skin really necessary? However, he knew he looked like a prince and couldn’t help the small smirk that stretched his face as he curved his body in a scorpion, spinning in every way possible.
He was the main protagonist of this story, and there was no place he would rather be than there.
Keith wanted to be anywhere but here. His brother, Shiro, had practically begged him to come watch his circus act, and Keith – defenseless against Shiro’s charm – had grudgingly caved in to his request. Which explains why he found himself sitting in a front row seat, face bright red, as he stared up at the dark stage.
His best friend, Pidge, nudged his side with her elbow, hissing, “At least pretend you’re comfortable.” Keith shot her a look. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to show it. “Remember we're here for Shiro, okay?”
Shiro had effortlessly convinced Pidge to come. Stuff like this wasn’t in her comfort zone either, but Pidge was willing to do anything for Shiro. She said anyone who could put up with her nerd brother, immediately had her utmost respect. So when Shiro had asked her to attend and support him, she got this eerie glint of determination in her hazel eyes and ganged up on Keith to force him to come.
Keith sighed, knowing better than to try and argue with her. A sudden shift in the air interrupted his thoughts, as a spotlight illuminated a decently tall tan boy, with his back facing the audience. Keith was at a loss for words, wondering how on earth he could sit perfectly still while balancing on basically nothing. The only thing holding the boy upright were two long grey silks that reached the ground, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder if the performer had ever experienced fear during his routines.
He was the only one on stage, and Keith figured he was the main protagonist. He couldn’t help but glance around and study the audience’s facial expressions; it seemed as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something.
All of a sudden, the word, “Birth” rang clear and crystal, and Keith couldn’t help but start at the sudden sound. “This story begins with birth, the birth of the prince.”
Even though Keith could only see his back, he didn’t doubt for a second that the aerial boy was as gorgeous as the narrator described him. The narrator continued, “The prince was born in the winter time, surrounded by snow and ice. His every birthday was covered in white, and he only knew cold and darkness. He wasn’t sure where his place in the world was and that left him as a child, no matter how much he aged.” Keith could hear the small beginnings of music seep through the speakers, but low enough so as not to obstruct the narration. “But this boy, this child, soon had to grow up. When everything he knew was taken from him – his friends, his family, and his home – he soon became a man, aging with every tear he shed.
“Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi invincible été.”
The music became infinitely louder, and Keith was unable to tear his eyes away from the stage for the rest of the night.
He felt ridiculously small and couldn’t help but compare his body to the performers. It wasn’t as if he didn’t work out, which he most certainly did, but it was just the fact that their bodies were so toned and perfect it was unnatural. They were practically Greek gods; or what Keith would imagine Greek gods to be.
The intro and was amazing, lots of colors and sound and spinning – so much spinning – that he was scared to blink in case he missed something. Keith would be lying if he said the performers’ movements did not mesmerize him. The main character moved with the ribbon as if it were a piece of his body, and stretched his long legs flawlessly. Keith barely had time to admire a perfect split before the music quickened and he began spinning rapidly, twisting and flipping as if gravity simply did not exist for him. Keith observed that the boy wore a crown and thought silently that the costume designers had put the crown on the right person; this man had to be a prince in real life.
Shiro had gone into great lengths describing the cast and the storyline to him, and Keith knew, without a doubt, that the “graceful aerial silk acrobat” Shiro always bragged about had to be him.
Lance McClain.
Keith’s eyes widened as Lance stepped onto the stage, tip toeing along the side to scan the eager faces with a flirtatious grin. Keith had never cursed his brother more because when Lance reached him, he paused, looked Keith up and down, and blew him a kiss with a wink before continuing his act.
He just blew me a kiss. The hot guy just blew me a kiss.
Pidge nudged his shoulder, smiling ear-to-ear, and Keith turned a darker shade of red then he already was. He knew, rationally, that he shouldn’t feel special. Shiro told him that the prince in the show was a giant flirt at first, and in the beginning of his story he’s immature, reckless, and a showboat, hence the rapid spinning, sexy glances, and the ridiculously tight costume that left nothing to the imagination. Whirling around, Lance leapt up, rotating at an intense speed. Keith was speechless, and Lance slid into a split, barely moving as the silks were drawn up to the ceiling.
Keith sighed in his seat, slightly shaken by such a fiery performance, clasping his hands together while he tried to calm his nerves, anxiously waiting to see Shiro on the trapeze and for the extravaganza to come to an end.
Right at that moment, the lights dimmed and the music seemed to dull to a whisper. He glanced around, wondering if perhaps something malfunctioned in the tech, but he noticed everyone’s faces were glued to the ceiling. He squinted up into the darkness but could see nothing. Before he worked up the courage to ask the person seated beside him what was happening, the lights directed their attention onto the narrator, who was walking casually from one of the stage to the other, and he spoke a single sentence, once again startling Keith.
“After he lost everything he knew, the prince met two creatures. They hoped he would feel their love and use it to find strength within himself.”
The lights dimmed when the narrator walked away, before relighting, and Keith couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face as he proudly peered at his brother.
Shiro’s routine was shorter and more intimate than Lance’s; there happened to be a lot of sweet touches and gentle moves, and Shiro’s eyes never left his partner once. Shiro had told him a lot about his new partner – Allura – and Keith knew they had hit it off well in spite of the fact they didn’t know the other very long. The routine required more trust than Keith could imagine.
Keith wasn’t entirely sure how much of the romantic atmosphere was part of the choreography though; Shiro and his partner seemed infatuated with each other, and from the way Shiro had described her, he was head over heels. Keith couldn’t be too mad at his brother. Although he was gay, he still knew beauty when it was in front of him, and that woman was flawless. Her skin was a warm brown, and she wore a short, pastel pink dress, decorated with small roses. The color matched the glittering ribbons weaved through her hair, and every time she moved it was as if they caught the light. Shiro’s outfit matched Allura’s, but was the darker version. Instead of the pastel pink theme, he was dressed in all black, minus the white streak in his hair, and it was as if the two of them were king and queen, complimenting each other through style and dance. The romantic chemistry was obvious, and Keith loved it, although he made a mental note to tease Shiro about it later.
Keith was defeated. He had come with the intent to hate it just to spite Shiro, but the entire thing was so beautiful that he couldn’t help but be sucked into the spell the lights cast over you.
Lance had twirled, leapt, flipped, and spun all night and he could feel the blood rushing to his head. Although it was uncomfortable, the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant. When he had posed with the rest of his performers in the center of the stage to take his bow, the cheers and shouts of the satisfied crowd filled him to the brim with amiable energy. He had beamed childishly and waved to everyone, blowing kisses to the series’ fans. He didn’t know where he would be without this show.
When the platform descended into the bottom of the stage, the actors hugged and kissed one another to celebrate another night gone perfectly well.
Someone’s arm draped over his shoulder and Lance turned in surprise. “Lance McClain, here again with another perfect show.”
He grinned. “But what would a prince be without his singer?” He wiped his sweating palm onto the side of his outfit – there were so many cutouts that the side was the only part that worked as a temporary towel – and clapped his hands together. “Hunk, you were great out there!”
“Is Lance pretending to be humble?” Lance and Hunk glanced up to see Shiro their senior, striding over to them with a hand on his hip. His character was what you could call a human-alien hybrid, and Lance whistled.
“Says the one looking a bit too good in those tights,” he flirted, batting his lashes as Hunk pretended to gag.
Shiro ignored him and patted Hunk on the head. “I’d say that was one of our best shows yet, don’t you think?”
“I agree.” Hunk’s chest swelled with pride and he clicked his tongue. “Did you guys hear my last high note? It was absolutely perfect.”
Shiro nodded, laughing. “We all heard it, Hunk. You’re the lead singer so it’s impossible not to.”
Lance watched as his ex-crush, Allura, walked up to the group, tapping Shiro on the shoulder. “Shiro, I’m going to go talk to the costume designer. Don’t forget to come!” He nodded, and Allura beamed at Lance and Hunk. “Guys, that was absolutely amazing! For a first performance, I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be.”
Hunk’s eyes widened. “Why would you be nervous? You’re incredible!”
She flushed. “Thank you Hunk.” She grinned at Lance. “Good job Lance! All eyes were on you the instant you walked onto the stage!”
Lance shrugged, cheeks pink. “I try.”
She squeezed Shiro’s shoulder, an affectionate smile on her face. “You did well too Shiro. I’ll see you later.” She vanished. Lance watched Shiro’s eyes follower her until she moved out of sight and he fought down a chuckle.
When Shiro turned back to Hunk and Lance, a light appeared in his eyes as if he had just remembered something. “By the way, do you guys remember how I wanted to invite my brother?”
“Yeah,” Lance said, snorting. “You said he hates performances.”
“Well, I finally convinced him to come. You guys should meet him!”
Lance didn’t really want to, but Shiro was so hopeful it was impossible to resist. “Your good looks and puppy dog eyes will be the death of me, Shiro."
After they had changed into normal clothes and let the crowd rush out, Shiro led the way and Hunk comfortably kept his arm on Lance’s shoulders. Lance didn’t particularly mind though; Hunk always made him feel peaceful.
Shiro waved his hand when they left the theater, calling, “Keith! Pidge! Over here!”
A boy and a girl – who Lance assumed to be Keith and Pidge – strolled up to Shiro, who enveloped them in what Lance recognized as his overly excited bone-crushing hug.
When Shiro pulled back, Lance recognized them from the front row. He cocked a brow. “For someone who hates shows, I’m surprised you sat in the front row.”
Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lance shrugged. “I mean, if you really hated shows why would you sit in the front? Don’t you know that’s who the stage interacts with the most?”
Shiro shot Lance a warning look. “Lance.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Sorry Shiro.” He forced a smile onto his face, which may have appeared more devilishly – key word, devil – handsome than welcome and cheerful, and said, “The name’s Lance.” Cue his signature wink. He couldn’t tell if he had any effect on the black-haired boy until he opened his mouth.
“I’m Keith Gay…I mean Kogane.” If Keith had any doubts about the universe hating him, Lance was sure they disappeared at that moment, especially since Keith made a face as if he wanted to rip out his own tongue. Lance raised a perfectly arched brow.
Hunk smiled, oblivious, and introduced himself politely, and Lance saw Keith’s shoulders slump with silent relief. “I’m Hunk, and it’s nice to meet you.”
Pidge’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Hunk before widening. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but were you in show? I don’t believe I saw you, and you don’t seem as if you would be very hard to miss.”
Hunk flushed, but before he could reply, Lance answered for him, pride brightening his words. “My best bud Hunk here is our lead singer. He’s the one who hits those awesome notes when I do my tricky spins.”
Pidge made a silent “o” shape with her mouth. She turned her gaze on Lance. “You, obviously, are the main protagonist. Can I ask how long you’ve been doing this?”
“I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘this,’ but I’ve been doing the show for almost five years now. But,” his voice dropped seductively, “If you want to know how long I’ve been practicing my flexibility, I can show you later-”
“Lance.” Shiro’s one word was enough to shut him up.
Lance sighed. “Suit yourself.”
Pidge giggled behind her hand, clearing her throat. “I’d appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m that big of a fan of men in tights. I have always hated Robin Hood.”
Hunk wheezed and laughed so hard he was bent over at the waist. Lance shot him a dirty glare and crossed his arms. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he whined.
“Sorry,” deep breath, more laughter, “Lance.”
Lance noticed that someone in their group had managed to stay quiet the majority of the conversation. He fixed his eyes on Shiro’s brother. “So why did you come, circus-hating pretty boy?”
Pretty boy? What the hell?
That was all Keith could think of until his mind completely blanked. “I-I, uh…”
Lance was amused, and Keith prayed to whoever was watching over him that he wouldn’t be able to see the blush that stained his cheeks.
“I make you that nervous?” Lance asked, and Keith couldn’t reply immediately; he was still trying to remember how English words worked. “You’re cute.”
If Keith had lost his memory earlier, at that he lost his oxygen and started coughing violently. Shiro sent Lance yet another look that he brushed off, and Keith struggled to breathe.
Talking wasn’t that hard, was it? It wasn’t as if he was talking to a super sexy acrobat or anything.
“I, well, Shiro asked me to come, so I, so I guess I did?”
Lance smiled. “That’s great! I’m a bit bummed that you’re not a big fan of shows – Shiro told us – but I hope this one wasn’t too terrible.”
Keith didn’t bother trying to talk any more and just nodded, transfixed by the blue eyes that sparkled gently. Lance still had remnants of his makeup around his eyes and with every minute shift they reflected the light, snagging Keith’s attention. He was just thinking of how much he wished he were Lance’s makeup when he noticed they were all looking at him.
“H-huh?” he stammered, looking to Pidge for help.
“Hunk asked if you want to come to the next show too,” she whispered, and Keith mentally thanked her for saving him from another embarrassing moment.
“I think so, yeah,” he answered, and the three entertainers turned the full force of their perfect smiles on him. Shiro’s white teeth were enough, but did they really have to blind him all at once? We get it; they brush their teeth.
Shiro ruffled Keith’s hair playfully. “Since today was so successful, how about coffee on me tomorrow morning!”
Keith glanced at him, confused. “Coffee?”
Pidge shrugged. “The show isn’t for another few weeks so we might as well enjoy our time on the Vegas Strip while we’re here, right?”
Shiro agreed, and turned back to Keith. “I have to meet the other trapeze artists tomorrow morning so I’ll meet you there.” He turned to Lance. “Since I can’t pick them up, will you take them tomorrow? I can text you the address of their hotel.”
Keith noticed Lance’s face falling – he obviously hated doing things he didn’t have to – but Shiro gave him the Irresistible Look and Lance was soon nodding along. So that face worked on Lance too, huh?
“Fine,” he muttered. The corner of his lips twisted up and Keith fought the urge not to blush once again. “You know, they used to call me the Tailor, because of how I thread the needle.”
Keith tried – and failed – to comprehend what on earth he had just heard. Shiro shook his head. “Don’t try to understand him, because you never will.” He leaned down to whisper in Keith’s ear, “I’m not even completely sure if he understands what he’s saying.”
Hunk tugged on the corner of Lance’s sweatshirt, waving with his other hand over his shoulder. “See you guys later!”
Shiro spared Lance a very quick hug. “I have to run back to ask the costume designer about a switch during the next show. See you!” Keith and Pidge got ready to follow Shiro.
Lance smiled. “See you tomorrow Shiro!”
They did not, in fact, see Shiro tomorrow.
Keith and Pidge followed Shiro while he went into detail about the personalities of all his friends. Keith didn’t want to seem rude, but he could care less about what Shiro was saying.
Pidge paused, noticing something that had caught her eye. “Oh my gosh, Shiro, can I please.”
Shiro made a confused expression, but realization descended onto his features when he realized she was practically making heart eyes at the crew equipment. “As long as they say it’s okay for you to poke around, I suppose.”
Pidge didn’t say another word and darted away, throwing a “Thanks Dad!” over her shoulder.
Shiro rubbed his forehead with his hand, the one covered by a shoulder-high glove. Not even Keith knew what was hidden beneath that glove, and he could never find the courage to ask.
“I don’t know why she does that,” Shiro pouted, and Keith cocked his head to his side.
“Does what?”
“Calls me Dad! It’s so weird.”
“You act like a dad.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“Do not.”
“Well, now you’re acting like a kid.”
Shiro frowned, and made a curious, yet teasing face. “At least I’m not the one with a crush.”
Keith glanced away, suddenly finding a great interest in the patterns of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come on Keith! I’ve known you for how long?”
“Shut up Shiro.”
Shiro sighed. “Stop thinking about him Keith. You barely even know him!” He nudged him playfully, teasing, “What’s wrong with you?”
Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “God okay! I’ll stop.”
Blazing blue eyes found their way into his head, accompanied by an image of Lance doing the splits. That cannot be good for his health, because Keith thought his heart skipped about half the beats he needed to live.
“Are you still thinking about him?”
“Shiro shut the fuck up.”
“Language!”
Keith groaned. He just hasn’t seen to someone that pretty in a while. That had to be it. Lance was ridiculously pretty, so pretty it was kind of irritating, and everyone could see that. Keith inhaled and exhaled, pushing all thoughts of this new stranger out of his head. It was nothing; he was just spellbound by Lance’s routine. That was it, and he would reassure himself of this over coffee tomorrow.
Finally tomorrow came, and Shiro was currently practicing with his gorgeous new partner. So, Lance, dressed in a crop top decorated with the words “Too Rare to Live, Too Hot to Die,” and some jeans so torn he might as well have been wearing shorts, was accompanied by Hunk – who wore a simple t-shirt with the same words as Lance’s; it was a friendship thing – to go pick up Shiro’s brother and his friend.
Today, Lance looked as hot as he felt and he knew it. He wasn’t incredibly insecure about his looks, and he knew he had the appearance of a grunge alien prince, white hair and all. He had worn some of Shiro’s expensive eyeliner that he had stolen when the older man wasn’t paying attention, and even though his style choices would’ve made most do a double take, he somehow pulled it off.
He rolled up to the door of Keith and Pidge’s hotel and pushed his gold Thom Browne’s onto the top of his head to hold the untamable pieces of his hair in place. Lance’s style was outlandish, too expensive, and colorful; he fit right into the Vegas scenery even if he was a Miami baby.
He let out a low breath of air as Keith walked out the doors and for a brief moment he forgot that his best friend was in the back seat. “Dios mio,” he murmured, and Hunk laughed.
“Shiro’s little brother is kind of cute,” Hunk said, and Lance shook his head.
“Shiro’s little brother is fucking hot, is what you mean,” he corrected, and watched with an interested apprehension as Keith and Pidge approached the car. He pointedly looked Keith head to toe with approval before flipping his glasses back onto his face.
Pidge glanced at Hunk, who was strapped into the backseat. “Are you in time out or something?”
Hunk shook his head. “I get car sick, so I prefer sitting back here.”
Keith went to join him but Pidge shoved him out the way, buckling in. “Come on Keith, what are you waiting for?” she asked sweetly, pointedly looking between him and Lance, and Keith made a mental note to kill her when they returned to the room. He reluctantly slid into the passenger seat, marveling for a moment at the cleanliness of the car.
“A convertible though?” he voiced aloud. “How did I not see this coming?”
Lance laughed, starting the engine. “She’s my baby. Besides, what can I say? I’m a sucker for flashy things.”
Keith made a face. “Obviously.” He purposefully looked at Lance’s outfit, though his eyes remained a bit too long on Lance’s exposed abdomen. He involuntarily tore his eyes away, not wanting to get caught doing such a cliché thing.
Lance seemed oblivious though, and maneuvered expertly through the cars on the road. “Don’t trash my style, Mr. I-haven’t-shopped-in-a-store-besides-Hot-Topic-since-seventh-grade.”
“Eighth grade,” Keith corrected. “And really man? Such a low blow.”
“Yeah whatever.” Lance waved his words away. “Suck it, Mullet Head.”
Keith found himself talking and laughing more easily with today’s Lance. It seems he was able to be himself when he wasn’t staring directly into sky-colored eyes.
Keith’s phone buzzed as Lance parked, and he saw that his brother had texted him.
Shiro: hey Keith, had to help Allura this morning! Rain check?
Keith: you’re fine, rain check sounds good lol
Keith sighed and looked at the other three. “Okay guys, Shiro needs a rain check so what should we do?”
Pidge and Hunk glanced at each other, exchanging matching grins. They probably had some idea in their head, and Keith shifted nervously. “Do you think I can go watch Shiro train?” She pulled out her phone with a mischievous expression. “I want blackmail.”
Lance laughed. “Pidge, I’m not sure if that’s something you should be saying out loud.”
She shrugged, fluffing the ends of her short orange hair and adjusting her wide-circled glasses. “I have needs too.”
Lance hesitated, but Hunk patted his shoulder. “I can take her, right Pidge?” Pidge nodded quickly.
Lance shrugged. “Keith and I will just drink coffee here and then meet up with you two around the practice gym later.”
Hunk and Pidge whispered to each other, giggling. Perhaps the two becoming friends was not a good thing. “Is it a date?” she teased.
Keith averted his gaze but Lance rolled his eyes. “No, it isn’t a date. I just want to see if Shiro and his little brother are alike, that’s all.”
“Yeah, yeah. Not a date my ass.” Pidge nudged Hunk with her shoulder and they climbed out of the car. “Let’s go big guy. Do we need a cab?”
“No, we can just walk.” Hunk waved and Pidge darted ahead, skipping gleefully as Hunk strolled behind her.
Keith smiled to himself while he watched them before the tightening in his gut made him remember the crop top clad man he was now forced to be alone with. He strained to relax, reminding himself that Lance was just a pretty boy and talking to him would turn Keith off in a split second.
“Ready to go inside?” Lance’s sudden voice made Keith jump.
He nodded, following him in. He glanced at his companion, watching Lance take a deep breath.
With a lopsided grin, he told Keith, “I come here every morning before practice. Their coffee is phenomenal.”
“For some reason, I wouldn’t strike you as someone who says the word ‘phenomenal.’ No offense.”
Lance’s laughter sounded like wind chimes. “I never cease to amaze, huh?”
The waitress came before Keith could say something witty – he discovered that Lance had a way of stunning him with his looks and then irritating him with his personality.
When the cups were placed on the table, the waitress looked between them and giggled behind her hand, moving quickly away. It seemed to Keith that Lance didn’t notice, and he lazily swirled his spoon around the cup, wondering what to say.
Instead of starting a lame conversation, Keith took in his surroundings. Lance came here often? To Keith, Lance looked as if he would be more into colorful and wild places like clubs and casinos. Opposite to those scenes, this coffee shop was full of tans and dark browns, a soft and gentle theme. Lance stood out like a highlighter in his expensive and eccentric outfit, but Keith didn’t mind. In fact, Lance seemed to be the Vegas nightlife in a brown body, and Keith wouldn’t doubt that he partook in all sorts of late night activities.
Then again, Lance never ceased to amaze.
“Lance?” Keith asked, and Lance’s eyes locked onto his. In case his attractiveness wasn’t enough, when people spoke Lance kept steady eye contact, as if to reassure them that they held his unwavering attention and interest. It was both comforting and unnerving at the same time.
“Yeah what’s up?”
“Can you take me to a nightclub?”
Lance arched a brow, surprised at Keith’s request. “I don’t mind, and I’m sure the others would like to go too. Maybe Shiro will actually make it this time!” He chuckled. “Why do you want to go?”
Keith shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve never been to one.”
“You’ve never been to a club?” Lance’s voice was incredulous. “How?”
“I just never went, I guess. It didn’t seem to be that important to me.”
“How old are you? Were you too young?” Lance suddenly gaped. “Don’t tell me you’re still too young to drink?”
Keith glared at him. “I’m not a child, I’m 26. I just never wanted to go.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Huh?”
“What changed your mind?”
“Oh well, I,” Keith said, flustered. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t tell me,” Lance murmured, leaning forward onto his elbows, fingers clasped as he rested his chin on the backs of his hands. “It’s not what I think it is, is it?”
Keith wrinkled his nose, puzzled. “What do you think it is?”
Lance’s lips turned upwards seductively, and his voice deepened. “You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you?”
Keith abruptly found great interest in his shirt, and could no longer stand to look at the one sitting across from him. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to blush or punch him square in the nose. He decided to do a nice medium.
With a red face he snapped, “God, you’re such an idiot, of course not! I just want to go since I’m in Vegas for the first time.” He gritted his teeth and took a sip from his cup. “Weirdo.”
Lance gasped. “At least I’m not the one wearing booty shorts and a shirt two sizes too small.”
Keith curled his lip. “Don’t be jealous that I’m hotter than you today.” He crossed his arms, smug. “I know I look good.”
“You look like a fucking dessert,” he thought Lance said. Keith felt his the tips of his ears warm.
“Did you just call me a dessert?”
“I said pervert!”
“I’ll believe you this time. But take me to a nightclub.”
“Dios mio Keith, you have got to stop calling it a nightclub. Just say ‘club.’ Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
“Are you calling me dumb? Did you just speak Spanish?”
“Yes and yes.” Lance stretched his arms above his head and Keith took a moment to drag his eyes from the waistband of his pants and up his abs. He thought he saw quite a few interested glances from strangers sitting near them as well.
Lance leaned back in the chair, winking. “Like what you see?”
Keith snorted, rolling his eyes and pretending like he was totally not checking him out for the umpteenth time today. “What view? All I see is a coffee shop.”
Lance pouted as he finished the last of his drink. “You hurt me Keith.” He stood, holding his sunglasses so he could run a hand through his hair. “Are you ready? I can promote the nightclub idea to the others when we get to the practice gym.”
“I thought you said calling it a nightclub was lame!”
“It’s only lame when you say it, Keith. No offense.”
“How am I not supposed to take offense to that?”
“Figure it out.” Lance took their cups and threw them away, waving goodbye to the waiters and waitresses who practically swooned at his attention.
“God you’re such a flirt,” Keith huffed, and Lance smirked.
“Maybe I’m just in character. Besides,” he paused, casually snaking his arm around Keith’s waist, “None of them look as cute as you do in your shirt right now.”
Keith swore he saw a woman start to fan herself as she watched them. Lance shook his head, vainly pleased, and removed his arm. Keith glanced down at what he was wearing and wondered how in the world it was considered ‘cute’ on Lance’s list of cute things.
He had tried today, but he didn’t want to make it blatantly obvious, so he had settled on a tight black t-shirt that read: “Humans Aren’t Real” with an alien face in the middle and a random pair of black shorts that he had worn on the flight to Vegas.
“It’s different,” Lance said simply. “I like it.”
Keith exhaled a long, slow, stream of air and struggled. He was just infatuated with Lance’s looks; and just like the interest in a pretty picture fades after a few days, Keith’s minor attraction would ebb as well. This was also Shiro’s flirty acrobat friend, who was certainly out of his league and had no interest in him whatsoever other than the fact that he was Shiro’s brother.
Even if he knew it and acknowledged it, that didn’t mean it sat very well in his stomach.
Lance watched his new friend from his peripheral vision. Keith squinted in the direct sunlight, and blinked when he noticed Lance staring at him.
“Like what you see?” he teased, repeating Lance’s words from earlier.
Lance closed his eyes for a heartbeat. “Honestly, Keith? I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“So I finally figured out how to get the creature to stop talking.” Keith stood with his hands on his hips. “I must be special. But what is it?”
Lance had an impish air about him and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. “Come on Hot Topic. I’m buying you a pair of sunglasses.”
From the original once-over of Shiro’s brother, you would never have assumed that he was a shopping maniac. He was basically a fifteen-year-old girl who couldn’t decide what she looked the best in. Keith – to Lance’s extreme amusement – wore fingerless gloves and even painted his nails black. It was endearing, and Lance peeked at his own periwinkle painted nails.
“Keith, I’m just buying you sunglasses not-”
Keith hushed him. “I’m busy.”
Tickled, Lance sat back and watched Keith try on clothes. As comical as it was though, Lance’s fashion senses were slowly becoming more and more offended as Keith continued modeling.
“Keith, stop.”
Keith froze as he picked up yet another black shirt that mirrored the one he had tried on three minutes ago.
“Huh? Lance what’s wrong?”
Lance held a hand up to his face, pretending to be deeply wounded. “I cannot stand by and watch this go on any longer. It would be an insult to my fashion.” Keith watched him like a hawk as Lance gently removed the shirt from his hands and returned it to its rightful hanger. He pointed to the dressing room. “Wait in there. The clothes will come to you.”
Keith scowled but luckily did not put up a fight, doing as he said. Lance tapped a long index finger on his chin and examined the clothes in front of him. He pulled a couple off their hangers and made his way over to where Keith was waiting impatiently.
Lance tossed the clothes over the top of the door and Keith squeaked inside. He must not have been paying attention, Lance figured.
“Try them on and then come show me,” Lance called, and he heard Keith huff, muttering curses through the door.
Keith stepped out, hands on his hips. “This was the best outfit I could do with what you gave me.” He acted like he hated the outfit, but Lance could tell from his tinted cheeks that he was faking it.
He had tossed an assortment of clothes to Keith, and let him pick his favorite arrangement. Lance wasn’t sure whether or not he was okay with wearing crop tops so he tried to pick shirts that weren’t too short but still showed off his body well.
Keith had decided on a tight, sleeveless red top that stopped just below his navel with a pair of black cargo pants. He nervously tugged on the bottom of the shirt, but Lance stopped him, clasping his gloved hands in his own.
“I love it!” he exclaimed, “You still look like you only shop in Hot Topic, but now you have a dash of Forever 21.”
“Where is the Forever 21?” Keith asked dubiously.
“The shirt of course.”
Keith glowered, but didn’t immediately take it off. He opened his mouth, hesitating before saying with a smirk, “You call me Hot Topic, yet you have your nails painted blue.”
“It’s a fashion statement!” Lance cried defensively. He released Keith, cradling his own hands to his chest as if the boy had burned him. “I’m definitely not a Hot Topic type of guy.”
“Yeah, probably Victoria's Secret,” Keith said with a snort.
Lance shrugged. “I plead the fifth.”
He could have sworn that if Keith’s mouth had opened any wider it would have scraped the floor. “But what do you…” he trailed off, eyes blinking. “Actually, I’m not going to ask."
Keith whirled around quickly, basically sprinting back to the dressing room. “Where do you think you’re going?” Lance demanded.
Keith froze sheepishly. “I’m taking the clothes off to put them back.”
“No, you’re taking the clothes off to buy them.” Lance grabbed a nice pair of black shades he thought would look good on Keith. “I’ll meet you at the cash register, Mullet.”
He rubbed his arms. “Lance, I don’t have any money, I left it all with Pidge. I can’t afford all of, all of this.” He gestured dramatically to the outfit he wore.
Lance pursed his lips. “But I can. Take it off and meet me at the cash register.”
He looked like he wanted to argue again, but Lance moved away before he could. He noticed Keith feel the soft material of the shirt with a small smile, and Lance grinned. He didn’t have a lot of money either – most of it went to rent, groceries, and the occasional gift to himself – but wow, was spending it on him so worth it.
Keith wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when the arrived at the practice gym, but it surely was not Lance stripping as soon as he walked in the door, only to get yelled at by Allura for indecency. Was Allura as new as everyone said she was? She sure seemed to take on the role of “Mother” easily; perhaps it was because of her partnership with Shiro.
He deposited himself on the mat, next to the mirror in the corner so he could stay out of everyone’s way, and watched intently. There were a lot of objects Keith assumed were for aerial things, and he waited for Lance to arrive while he studied everyone practicing on the floor. He spotted Hunk and Pidge sitting in another corner; it looked as if Hunk were singing and Pidge was listening closely. He reverted his gaze back to Allura and Shiro. They were so in sync, moving with such perfect synergy you got pulled in even if you tried to resist.
“Lance! Hey buddy, there you are!” Hunk cried, and stood to give his friend a tight hug.
Keith’s heart rose to his mouth but got stuck in his throat on its way. Lance stood, a hand on his hip, dressed in a skin-tight bodysuit. Admittedly, instead of the bodysuit, Lance could have worn something infinitely more inappropriate, but for some reason having Lance’s curves and dips highlighted so well in white made Keith want to grab a water bottle and chug.
Lance saw him and raised a hand in a small wave, jogging over to where he sat. Keith scrambled to his feet. Lance had a cocky grin on his face, and Keith sensed a challenge.
“Okay, Mullet, I need you to do something for me.”
“Oh yeah?” Keith crossed his arms thoughtfully. “And what’s that, Mr. Tights?”
Lance mimicked Keith’s position, grinning. “Help me stretch.”
That’s all? “I don’t see why not. But if you call me Mullet one more time, I’m breaking your arm.”
Lance clutched his chest with fake offense. “You wouldn’t dare.” He flexed his toned biceps – stupid, stupid, biceps, Keith cursed – and kissed each arm. “These are my money makers man!”
Needless to say, Lance whined enough for Keith to tell him to shut it because he’d help him. Two things ran through Keith’s head as he pushed on Lance’s back while he did the splits:
First, why doesn’t this guy ever shut up?
Second, how flexible is he?
Lance was telling him all about his friends in the show. “I became friends with Hunk a long time ago. He’s such a sweetheart, I don’t know what I could do without him, you know? He let’s me paint his nails and he cooks for me and-”
“Are you two married or something?”
“Keith, your sass is not appreciated at the moment.”
“Yeah? Well neither is your voice.”
“Yeah?” Lance’s voice rose by what sounded like a whole octave. “Well, your, uh, your mullet is not needed either!”
“Thanks,” he laughed dryly.
Lance pouted, and turned around, extending his left leg and pulling his bent right knee to his chest. “Push onto my calf,” he instructed, and Keith complied.
Because the boy was so flexible, Keith found himself awkwardly leaning over Lance, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. Lance didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, holding Keith’s gaze with hooded eyes. “Tell me about someone else,” Keith requested. He was willing to listen to Lance talk again; he was willing to listen to anything to break this tension.
Lance pursed his lips. “I thought my voice wasn’t needed.”
“Yeah well neither is my sass or my mullet and they’re both still here, so.”
Lance switched legs and hummed. “I met Allura a few years before I joined the show.”
“You knew Allura before she came to the circus?” Keith was genuinely surprised.
Lance seemed pleased that Keith was finally joining in on the conversation instead of making him speak into air. “Yeah I did,” he replied. With a small chuckle, he said, “I used to have a crush on her.”
Keith felt a strange stab in his chest. Was he jealous? How? He’d only known this boy for a couple of days, and he only liked his face – or so he told himself – so it made no sense why he was envious of a gorgeous girl.
Wait a second, was this boy straight?
Lance stretched his arms, rolling over onto his stomach. He pulled his foot over his back in a scorpion-type pose. “Push my leg as far over my head as it can go.”
Keith complied. “Do you still like her?” The words sounded strained and painful, as though he had forced them out of his mouth; which he most definitely did.
Lance shook his head. “Nope. I’ve been over her for a while now. I’m actually the one who introduced her to the show,” he boasted. “She contacted me and asked if the show had any openings. Luckily our other main trapeze artist, Shiro’s previous partner, quit right before she asked. It was fate.”
“You think she likes Shiro?” Keith asked. He hoped Lance wasn’t sensitive to the topic, but he wanted to confirm that he was actually as over her as he had said.
“Yeah man! It’s so obvious in the way they interact.” He switched legs, gesturing to them. “Look at them! It hurts just watching them pine after each other without making a move.”
Keith didn’t bother looking at them. His eyes were locked on Lance’s face, which was currently open and vulnerable as he observed his friends. There was no trace of regret or pain in his expression, and Keith released a silent breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“I guess you weren’t her type,” he joked.
Lance rolled back over so that Keith stood over him, and he smiled upwards. “Meh, it’s okay. After she rejected me for the zillionth time, I realized there were other boys and girls in the sea, you know?” He sat up, drawing his legs to his chest, still under Keith, and rested his head on his knees. Fortunately he didn’t notice how red Keith was because of their position. “I don’t mind rejection,” he said with a crinkle in the corners of his eyes.
Keith was too preoccupied by the fact that Lance was in between his legs to realize Lance pretty much just said he was bisexual.
Nope, all Keith noticed was that those blue eyes were trained on his now, and he had forgotten how to breathe, once again.
“Right, the sea,” he said lamely, having completely missed Lance’s last sentence. Smooth going Keith. You’re totally going to steal his heart with that.
Lance held out his hand, and Keith stared at him, confused. “You gonna help me up, or am I going to have to sit on my ass all practice?"
Keith fidgeted, grabbing his hand to lift him up. “Sorry.”
Lance clapped his shoulder. “I’m just teasing. Besides, I can’t stay too mad at you since you actually let me buy you clothes.”
Keith watched as he walked towards the aerial ring that someone had brought down with Lance’s arrival. Lance easily hefted himself up, moving through and around the ring as if he weighed nothing.
“Are you the only one who uses the silk and the ring?” Keith asked.
Lance glanced up, surprised. Keith assumed he didn’t think he would ask any questions. “Seems like you know your aerial stuff,” he said, obviously impressed. “But no, all of our aerial performers know how to use the silk and the ring. However, I’m the best.”
Keith arched a brow. “Are you sure?”
Lance clicked his tongue. “Of course I’m sure! I make people,” he flipped upside down, doing the splits with a wink, “Unbalanced.”
“Oh my god, that had to be the most awkward thing I have ever witnessed,” Keith groaned.
Lance righted himself, and with a look of intense concentration, he began doing a routine. This routine seemed gentler, more sensual than the one Keith had watched yesterday, and he soon felt the warmth trickle from his neck to his face. A hand rested on his shoulder and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin.
“God, Shiro, you can’t just sneak up on someone like that!” Keith hissed, trying to calm his nerves.
Shiro chuckled. “You shouldn’t stare at him so closely if you don’t want someone to sneak up on you, Keith.”
“I wasn’t staring!” he retorted, but his words were too fast and too rushed that anyone could have known he was lying.
“Keith, you were drooling. I don’t think you can stare any harder than that.”
He blinked. “I wasn’t drooling.” He rubbed his chin to make sure.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Pidge said as she came to join the two in watching Lance.
Shiro sighed. “His personality needs some work, but he sure is too graceful to be human, huh?”
Keith’s shoulders slumped. “You got that right.”
“What’s wrong Keith?” Pidge goaded. “You finally met someone hotter than you? Aw, Keith has a crush.”
“Shut up Pidge, it’s not a crush.” His nose twitched. “I just like his face.”
“Right,” she drawled. “’Cause that’s not a crush at all.”
“Shut up.”
“What’s really the matter? You look like he dumped you and you two haven’t even gone out yet.”
Shiro ruffled his hair. “She has a point. What’s got you so upset?” he asked.
“He’s out of my league,” he mumbled.
Before either could respond, Lance was bounding over to them, out of breath. “Any of you guys have water?” he panted, and Pidge nodded, rushing to get him something to drink. When she returned he gulped it down, smiling contentedly. “By the way, Keith and I were wondering if you guys would want to go to a club tonight? I think it’s a good idea, especially since we just performed our first show of the summer.”
Shiro glanced to the side – obviously looking at Allura for a moment – before saying, “You know, I might be able to! Let me ask Allura if she wants to come too.”
“Alright man.” Lance turned to Pidge. “What about you? Are you in?”
She rolled her eyes. “As if I’d give up the chance to see Keith drunk. He’s such a lightweight.”
The aforementioned gaped. “I am not!”
The dangerous glint in Lance’s eyes that Keith began to associate with only him appeared, twinkling. “Oh really? Want to test that with a drinking contest?” He wiped some of his sweat from his forehead. “Unless you’re scared,” he baited.
Keith was a competitive person. No matter who challenged him or no matter what the challenge was, he found himself agreeing and throwing himself into whatever it was headfirst. Now, a small part of his brain was saying “Hey Keith, pal, this is not a good idea in the slightest.” Another part of him was saying that he wanted to impress Lance, but he fought those thoughts away.
But the biggest part of him? It was telling him to kick Lance’s ass so far back into space he’d be able to see every galaxy at once.
So that’s why, a few hours later, he found himself standing in front of the mirror, pacing back and forth as he decided how to dress for the nightclub. He didn’t even understand why he was so stressed. It wasn’t a date and there were going to be other people there. He was even going to be joining in on a drinking contest!
He decided to save Lance’s Outfit – that’s the nickname he gave the clothes Lance bought for him – for a special occasion, and settled on his traditional fingerless gloves, a baggy white shirt with torn black jeans and black and white converse. He figured if he spilled something on his shirt he could bleach it clean. Even if he couldn’t, it was an old shirt that should have been thrown out a year ago, anyways.
For his previous birthday, Shiro had bought Keith the same expensive eyeliner he wore for his shows, and Keith dallied for a moment, deciding whether or not it was a bit too much. He sighed, saying screw it, and applying a thin line, just to make his eyes pop a little more. He nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how his hair should look. He wanted to piss Lance off, so with a small grin he pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail. He hoped Lance would be unable to joke about his mullet if his hair was up and away.
Looking at his reflection one last time to be reassured that he looked okay, Keith took a deep breath and stepped outside of the hotel. Pidge had gone to see who Hunk’s crush was – a pretty waitress named Shay who walked at the coffee shop the group frequented to often – which meant Keith had to ride in the car with Lance, alone.
He spotted Lance’s car a little ways away and held his breath as he pulled up to the curb. Soft Spanish music was playing through the speakers, and Keith swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.
It should be a crime to look that good.
Lance had changed into yet another crop top, this one tight and pale orange with the words “Bite Me” written in red inside a shark’s open mouth. His shorts were short enough to be scandalous, his long legs shaved and shiny, and he wore colorful bangles up to the middle of his forearm. His hair stuck up at odd angles, but instead of looking dirty and unkempt it gave him an adorable bedhead look. Keith knew right then that he would not be able to make it through the entire night sober.
His mouth was dry. It was too much to take in at once. Even if he did not have a crush on Lance, he did like his appearance, and wow, was there a lot to like about his appearance tonight. There was so much skin everywhere, and if Keith squinted he could swear that Lance had the smallest bit of gold eye shadow on his eyelids, which served to make his eyes bolder. Keith took an unsteady breath. This was going to be hard.
Lance had been humming along to what Keith assumed was Shakira, when he turned and caught Keith staring. Unfortunately, at this point Keith was too dazed to look away and Lance grinned.
“Still liking what you see?”