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Lance hates himself. There’s a difference between procrastination and expensive procrastination, which a college student is definitely not be able to afford. He glances at his shopping cart, filled with numerous bags of marshmallows, all jumbo and white. In the name of science, Lance thinks to comfort himself, decidedly ignoring the strange glances the cashier, a middle-aged man who could not possibly understand the lengths a person would go to avoid facing reality, is shooting him. He swears he hears he a muttered, “Teenagers,” which is technically inaccurate, considering Lance is now twenty.
Lance is still rethinking his life decisions as he makes his way up to his apartment, trying to somehow balance all fucking forty-six bags. Really, Hunk and Pidge could have been less specific. When they begged him to buy a lot of marshmallows, Lance didn’t expect a lot to equal forty-six. Lance groans because as much as he loves Pidge and Hunk, he kind of wants to kill them right now, and then he’ll kill himself too, because he can’t stop worrying about that stupid five-page essay due in about six hours that requires him to creatively compare someone to astronomy things and explain why people use astronomy as a compliment, which he doesn’t have inspiration for right now. And he hates stress, but he likes to think that he writes better under pressure. And Lance admits it, he’s a bit overdramatic. One essay probably won’t devastate his GPA, but he can’t stop thinking about how proud his parents were that he got into a top university, breaking their backs to pay for his tuition, and that he really needs to continue to live up to their expectations by maintaining straight A’s. But here Lance is, towing marshmallows in plastic bags up flights after flights of stairs, cursing the fact that the elevator is still broken, even though the landlady promised it would be fixed about three months ago.
Out of breath, Lance decides to take a short break on the seventh floor. He leans against the railing, bags of marshmallows carelessly thrown down behind him. There’s a certain quietness, a calmness that almost feels like a dream, as if Lance has nothing to worry about in the world. Then the exit door bangs open.
Lance jumps in fright, nearly dropping his phone. He swoops down to pick up a bag of marshmallows to throw at the offender. He’s met with a dark, messy mullet and dark eyes, muted but stormy, like the grey clouds that sprawl across the horizon on rainy days. Lance takes in the face, somewhat familiar but unfamiliar at the same time, with furrowed brows and a deep-etched scowl. For no reason, Lance feels a bit miffed. This guy definitely doesn’t seem nice, and Lance would appreciate it if he could take his whole edgy attitude somewhere else. The guy opens his (perfect) mouth, and Lance braces himself for some cutting remark or demeaning insult.
“Can I help you?”
Lance nearly chucks the marshmallow bag at mullet-head’s face, managing to register his words in time to stop himself.
“Huh?” Lance gapes at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. This was definitely not how he expected this guy to act.
“Did I stutter?”
Lance isn’t sure whether or not to feel grateful or irritated, so he settles on a weird mixture of both. “Thanks for the offer. And the rude remark.”
“Rude?”
Mullet-head runs his fingers through his hair, making it even messier and himself ten times as attractive. He looks genuinely confused, and Lance kind of wants to laugh at the whole strangeness of the situation.
“You know what, never mind. Yeah I’d like some help. Let’s do some heavy lifting.”
Mullet-head nods and begins to pick up one of the grocery bags, only to pause and stare. “Marshmallows?” He surveys the rest of the bags, and sure enough, they’re filled with bags after bags of marshmallows.
Lance holds back a chortle, grabbing half of the bags and making his way up the stairs. He hears mullet-head grunt a bit behind him, and it’s a really nice grunt. Lance is only appreciating it for academic purposes of course, since he still has that essay to write, but nonetheless it’s attractive, like everything else about the guy, including his stupid mullet. Stop admiring a stranger. A hot stranger. But no, you are too busy for that.
They climb in silence, with only the sounds of doors slamming behind them accompanying them through their trip. The whole way, Lance is pointedly walking fast, because when they got on the ninth floor, mullet-head was somehow ahead of him, and Lance accidentally took a glance at his ass, which was also perfect, and Lance wanted to strangle himself. He also kept his mouth shut, since he was sleep-deprived and likely to blurt out a creep compliment that would scare hot mullet-head away.
When they’re almost at the eleventh floor, mullet-head asks suddenly, “What are all these marshmallows for, anyways? Is there a s’mores party happening, or?”
Lance is slightly startled, since mullet-head seems like a broody, quiet type, but he actually sounds kind of amused when he asks, and Lance thinks that mullet-head may be better company than he seems, which is kind of pointless to find out once they’re arriving at the destination.
“No, we’re making a marshmallow tower. For scientific purposes .” Lance puts up his hands in air quotes. “Actually, we’re just using an amazingly stupid way to procrastinate.”
“And expensive.” The corners of mullet-head’s mouth quirks up, and Lance swears that’s a smirk.
“Yeah, and expensive. I think I blew like 140 dollars? My friends swear it’ll be worth it, but if it’s not, I’m at least going to find some satisfaction in knocking it down.”
“Fair point, but what about the mess afterwards? Unless, you like cleaning, no offense, but that will be a nightmare.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. You’re supposed to be making me feel better about wasting money, not worse.”
Lance is pleased to find out that he can go back and forth with mullet-head, which makes him crush material, and Lance doesn’t need that in his life, especially since he’ll probably never see mullet-head again. And he doesn’t know his name.
Lance is still debating whether or not he should ask mullet-head for his name when they arrive in front of his door, and he ultimately decides against it. “Uh, we’re here. Thanks a lot for your help.”
“No problem.” Mullet-head begins to set down the bags as Lance turns the key to his dorm. Hunk bursts out, nearly knocking Lance to the ground.
“Lance! You’re here. Did you really buy all forty-six bags, buddy? You didn’t miss any, right?”
“Yes, Hunk. I bought all forty-six bags, which were a goddamn pain to carry up by the way. It’s a good thing this guy helped me out.” Lance jerks his thumb towards mullet-head, which Hunk’s gaze follows. His eyes widen, so large it’s almost comical. “Pidge!”
Lance kind of feels like he missed a very important detail.
Mullet-head looks equally as surprised and a bit nervous. Pidge comes running out, stopping dead in their tracks when they see mullet-head.
“Lance, I didn’t know you knew Keith .” Their voice is carrying a certain tone to it.
Keith. Lance whirls around to look at Keith, and he wants to slap himself because of course that’s Keith. Infamous mullet. Dark eyes. Red jacket. Yeah, Lance can’t believe he spent like ten minutes with a guy he’s been avoiding.
Originally, it wasn't on purpose. The first time, Pidge and Hunk had told him about going out to see a movie with Shiro, a TA that, according to Lance’s classmates, was super hot and nice, his girlfriend, a model named Allura, and his younger brother, Keith. Lance refused on the basis that he had an astronomy project due that night. Pidge and Hunk promised that Keith and Lance would hit it off pretty well, since apparently he was Lance’s type, which Lance vehemently denied having. They claimed Lance needed to get out more and stop watching novelas and moaning over how he wanted true love, which Lance admits may have been excessive, but still, he didn't need to his friends to introduce him to someone. He was perfectly adept at flirting, and he could find a boyfriend or girlfriend is he really wanted one, but he didn't want one, contrary to his friends’ beliefs.
The second time, Lance actively came up with some excuse, just to prove his friends that he was definitely too busy for a relationship, and also because his friends knew him too well, and if they were sure Lance was going to find Keith attractive, he probably would, which would lead to some self-spiral. So yeah, Lance chose to blame his lack of time on some project. And after that, Lance would take his suffering in stride as Hunk and Pidge talked about their outings. Lance would never admit it, but he had secretly snuck behind them as they were looking through their gallery, eyes drawn to a handsome face framed by a mullet, biceps looking delicious in a red jacket. Lance had looked away before he could fully take in Keith’s face, a decision that proved to bite him in the ass now.
Pidge and Hunk are smirking, and Lance is just about to hastily shove them inside and crawl into his bed and die, when he notices that the smirks are not directed towards him, surprisingly, but at Keith, who is scowling, his face an interesting shade of red. Lance feels like he’s missing the memo, but he decides to ignore it.
“So Keith, you met Lance, huh?” Hunk waggles his eyebrows.
“Yeah, the infamous Lance,” Pidge supplies, also trying to waggle their eyebrows in a poor imitation of Hunk’s. Lance chooses not to comment, more interested that apparently, Hunk and Pidge talk about him. What they talk about though, could be a bit embarrassing.
“Uh, guys,” Lance chortles nervously. “Great to know I’m famous and all, but I kind of hope it’s a good famous, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, don’t worry Lance. It’s definitely good. More than good.” Pidge reassures him, which just makes Lance even more suspicious. There is definitely something up.
Keith makes a weird noise, which he quickly covers up with coughing. Lance is a bit annoyed now, since he even though he resigned himself to being out-of-the-loop, he definitely does not appreciate it happening with a stranger.
“Well, Keith, you should come help us build a marshmallow tower. I’m sure you’d enjoy that very much, hm?” Pidge isn’t even trying to hide their gloating now, and Keith seems to be getting* increasingly red, which is a bit worrying. Lance wants to stop Keith from staying, especially since he’s so attractive it’s a distraction, but for reasons even unbeknownst to himself, Lance invites Keith to come in. “Dude, you look really red. Must be all those marshmallows. Even if you’re super fit and you’ve got really nice arms, not that I was looking-” Lance adds hurriedly, mentally smacking himself, “You could use some water, maybe?”
Keith turns his attention towards Lance, giving a tentative nod. Lance feels his heart swell a bit because that was goddamn adorable, which is unfair since Keith kind of reminds him of sex on legs. I hate myself for even saying that. Really, sex on legs? Shaking himself and his stupid thoughts aside, Lance steps inside the dorm, hoping Pidge and Hunk at least cleaned up the living room, not that he wants to impress Keith.
Lance follows behind Hunk and Pidge, who seem entirely too amused, but thankfully, they grow more serious as they near the living room. The tiny table, crafted by one of Lance’s uncles, is clean, the surrounding area filled with takeout boxes and crumbled papers. Lance makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uh, trash days are usually today, so we keep all the trash in the living room for easy disposal. Yeah.”
Keith, thankfully, remains silent and sits down on the couch. Lance feels awkward and is starting to regret all of his life choices, so he goes into the kitchen to get Keith a glass of water. When he returns, he finds Keith surrounded by plastic bags, his fingerless gloves ( how edgy, Lance thinks) set to one side, marshmallows splayed across the open space available on the couch. He’s tearing the bags open with his hands. Pidge and Hunk are sitting on the floor, cutting the bags open with scissors. Lance notices how the only available space is the seat next to Keith, where his fingerless gloves are, and he’s a hundred percent certain Pidge and Hunk did that on purpose.
Lance can only sigh, taking a seat next to Keith, who wordlessly passes him an unopened bag of marshmallows, which Lance exchanges for the glass of water. The four sit for a couple of minutes in silence, finally stopping to survey their work after the floor and couch is practically buried in white.
“There’s snow many. Do you ski what I did there?” Lance is aware the joke is kind of dumb, but he’s left surprised when Keith actually laughs, full-bellied and melodious, which really fucks Lance up.
“Lame,” Keith gasps out.
Lance is about to retort back, because even though his joke is lame, that doesn’t mean Keith should just call him out on it. Honestly though, Lance isn’t even mad. He just likes bantering with Keith because it’s fun.
Pidge cuts in, “Yes, his jokes are lame.” Their eyes are twinkling. “But these marshmallow aren’t going to be when they’re a tower, so let’s get building.”
They begin, carefully placing marshmallows on top of each other, trying to stack them up without squishing the ones on the floor, which turns out to be the most difficult part of the project. When they’re finished, they survey their hard work, the grand result of two productive hours.
“It’s pretty impressive, actually. Better than I thought.” Lance smiles at his friends, his eyes resting on Keith, who genuinely looks proud as he snaps pictures.
“Good team bonding, “ Hunk comments, sharing a furtive glance with Pidge.
Lance throws a stray marshmallow at Hunk, which nails him straight on the nose.
“Oh, it’s on.” Hunk grabs a handful, chucking them randomly towards the other side of the room. One of them hits Lance on the arm, and the other bounces off of Keith’s cheek. After that, it’s all-out war.
Keith and Lance team up against Pidge and Hunk, who bombard the two with all the marshmallows they can find. They have the advantage, since there are more leftover marshmallows on their side. Keith scales up the ladder while Lance takes cover behind the couch, tossing marshmallows at the other team, yelling in glee every time he hits them on the head. Keith knocks over the marshmallow tower, shoving them towards Hunk and Pidge. Everything’s a mess, but Lance is having a great time, laughing until his stomach hurts. The fight ends in Lance and Keith’s win, and they high-five each other, giggling like they’re elementary schoolers. Their victory is short-lived, however, as Hunk leaves for work, and Pidge heads to class, leaving the mess behind for Keith and Lance to deal with.
They clean up, taking longer than necessary as they have mini fights, chucking as many marshmallows as they sweep. They finish throwing all the marshmallows into trash bags an hour later, hauling them and the rest of the trash to the designated trash cart.
There’s a leftover bag of marshmallows, which Lance suggests eating. Keith is about to pop one into his mouth when Lance stops him in horror.
“What are you doing?”
“Eating a marshmallow, like you said?” Keith’s brows are furrowed again, and it’s kind of cute, and Lance needs out .
“You’re a monster. Who eats marshmallows just like that? They taste weird when they’re not gooey.” Lance tuts, grabbing the bag of marshmallows and heads towards to the kitchen, gesturing for Keith to follow.
He turns on the stove, flames flickering for a second before blue flames sputter on. Grabbing a metal fork, Lance sticks a marshmallow onto it and places it near the flames, turning it like a spit. He moves the fork back once the marshmallow is perfectly charred.
“Here. This here, is a good ol’ Lance special, a true work of art. Bon apetit.”
Keith takes the fork and eats the marshmallow, and his eyes light up momentarily with delight. “I never knew marshmallows could taste that good?” Keith grabs another marshmallow and sticks it onto the fork, placing it near the fire like Lance. He cooks it for too long, burning the marshmallow and leaving it too gooey to stay on the fork properly. It falls onto the floor, landing with a sad plop.
Lance laughs. Keith just looks so disappointed and frustrated, all because of a marshmallow. “Here, try again. It takes practice. I’ll let you know when to take it out.”
Keith’s mouth perks up a bit. “I never knew marshmallow-roasting was an actual art. The more you know, I guess.”
Lance shoves a finished marshmallow at his face to shut him up, barely registering until after Keith takes the marshmallow that he just fed Keith, which is couple-y and not helping Lance prevent himself from crushing on Keith.
Half-heartedly, he quips back, “Yeah, and I’m sure you’ll learn many more things. I’m a man of many talents. Comes from finding creative ways to keep every sibling entertained. Speaking of which, one time...”
Keith listens attentively as Lance shares stories of his childhood, some which are very embarrassing, but Lance thinks it’s worth it to see Keith’s eyes light up each time, a snort erupting from the dark-haired boy.
“Actually, I used to roast marshmallows like this with my siblings. We’d use two gas stoves, though, and generally, we fought over the marshmallows, since we would only have one bag. I used to always play-fight them, but then I’d always let them take more.” Lance feels nostalgic, eyes locked on the ruined marshmallow. He’s no stranger to homesickness, but he’s not sure why he suddenly feels all sentimental enough to share it with Keith, whom he’s only known for a grand total of four hours. He hardly even confides in Hunk and Pidge about how he misses his family, even though he’s sure they already know.
Keith doesn’t do anything except listen to Lance ramble about his hometown, Varadero, with its beautiful beach, ocean glittering under the sunlight like it’s made of millions of sapphires, the fine white sand cool at night and burning under the sun. It’s gratifying, sharing his memories and remembering the good times, even if it leaves him a little sad, knowing that he may not be able to visit this Christmas break with how busy he is and how expensive plane tickets are.
When he’s done, Keith says quietly, “I think it’s amazing that you have all those good memories to look back on. I can tell you really grew up with a loving family, and you really deserve that. I can’t say I relate, since I was an orphan before I was adopted by Shiro’s family, but it makes me glad, I guess, to hear you talk about your family with so much adoration.”
Lance is surprised but pleased that Keith is deciding to share his personal stories with him, even the more private ones. They continue to talk until it’s nearly eight. Keith gets a call, which turns out to be Shiro.
Smiling apologetically, Keith says, “I have to go.” Lance nods, showing him out the door and swallowing down disappointment because even though that was great bonding time, Keith was just a new friend he had met today. There’s no need to feel so upset. Still, Lance doesn’t feel better until Keith mutters a quick, “See you later.”
Lance is left giddy, warm and fuzzy. He starts on the essay, and he indulges himself as he writes about Keith. He finishes writing in an hour, a record. He’s proofreading his essay for once when it hits him like a train.
Fuck, I have a full-blown crush on Keith.
----
Lance is having a pretty good day. He got an A on that astronomy essay, with the help of Keith, not that he needs to know that. He also made it in time for happy hour and got his food half-off. Not to mention, he doesn’t have any homework due that night, so he could spend his night chilling in the dorms, watching random videos on YouTube and binge watching shows on Netflix. After the whole ordeal with Keith, Lance had tried to casually ask Pidge and Hunk about the times they had hung out with Shiro, Allura, and Keith, hoping to get some pictures to stare at and learn more about Keith. They cast him knowing looks, but they provide him with info and pics anyways, so Lance counts that as a win.
He learns that Keith is a dance major, is really fucking good at it, and is part of a dance team. Lance may or may not spend a lot of his time on the YouTube channel, watching every video Keith is in, admiring the way he moves, fluid but powerful, so breathtaking and emotional. Lance thinks he never really got the phrase “dance is a form of expression” until he watched Keith dance, his normal apathy replaced with volumes of emotions. It makes Lance feel some kind of way.
Lance is ready to chill when his phone lights up with a text message from Hunk. There’s nothing other than an address and one word. Come.
Lance has a slight suspicion, but since he’s in a good mood, he decides to ignore it against his better judgement. He throws on his jacket and ties his shoes, pulling up the location of Google Maps. The place isn’t that far, just twenty minutes away by foot. He sets off, hands in his pocket.
He arrives at a motorcycle shop with a minimalistic design, monochrome colors splashed here and there amongst the glossy bikes. It takes him another to realize that Keith is standing behind the register, his hair tied up. Lance kind of chokes, not that anyone needs to know that.
To Hunk
> wtf?????
Keith looks up. “Lance?”
Lace tries not freak out in close proximity with his crush, but Hunk has pulled this bullshit on him knowing he has a crush on Keith, and Lance is just so overwhelmed because Keith looks good, and he wants to kill and thank Hunk for that.
“Hey, Keith. Fancy meeting you here?” Lance hopes he looks more confident than he feels, looking down at his phone for an explanation.
From Hunk
> pick him up from work.
> it’s your chance to show off that good ol’ lance charm.
> we’re all going to the movies btw
To Hunk
> You CAnT JUST do THis TO mE IM DECEASED
From Hunk
> talk to him while you guys walk.
> i’m a genius, right?
Lance feels somewhat annoyed, but he’s also super grateful to Hunk because Lance knows that in reality, he would probably end up pining and never doing anything about it.
“So, uh, I heard the group’s meeting at the movies, and I may have gotten tricked into coming here, but trust, I’m happy to see you, man.”
Keith quirks an eyebrow, seemingly amused. “Yeah, they mentioned the movies to me. I didn’t know I was going to get a chaperone. Guess today’s my lucky day,” he offers with smile. Lance feels warmth rising to his cheeks. Was that flirting? Or him just being nice?
“Just let me take this off and sign off. The person for the next shift is already here.”
Keith signs off and walks out of the store, calling back, “Bye Rolo.”
As they’re walking down the street, Keith reaches to take off his hair tie. Before he can stop himself, Lance cries out, “You’re taking it off?”
Keith looks a bit startled, but he puts his hand down. He shoots a shy smile. “Nah, guess I’ll keep it up.” And that just really makes Lance’s day.
“So,” Keith starts as they’re waiting at a crosswalk, “you’re finally done drowning in school work?”
“Hm?” It takes Lance a second to understand what Keith means. “Ah, yeah. I decided I should make some time. Grace you with my presence and all.” Lance makes finger guns, and Keith looks incredibly amused by the dumb gesture.
“Yeah, glad to be blessed.”
“So, what movie are we watching?” Lance assumes that they already agreed on a movie, but he’s surprised to see Keith shrug.
“Beats me. Whoever gets to the theater first. They choose what movie, and everyone is forced to watch that movie. I never really make it to the theater first, but I guess I don’t mind.”
“Oh. What types of movies do you like to watch?”
“Hm. Sci-fi and thriller, I guess. What about you?”
“Somehow, I’m not even surprised. I totally see you being into aliens.”
“It’s not just about aliens.” Keith bumps shoulders with him. “But yeah, aliens are kind of cool.”
Lance can’t believe it. Keith is so edgy, but he’s into aliens. This fact somehow makes Keith even more likeable than he already is, and Lance can’t deal with how his crush is growing so fast, even though it’s only been a week or so.
“What about you?”
“Uh, okay, you have to promise not to laugh.” Lance leans in conspiratorially, and Keith follows. “I like romance. Good sappy kind. It’s really cute. Sci-fi is pretty cool too, though.”
Keith nods. “Sci-fi isn’t just pretty cool, though. It’s the coolest.”
Lance rolls his eyes, a smile slowly growing on his face. “Yeah, whatever you say. What about movies you can’t watch? Personally, I can’t deal with horror. I get nightmares for days, and it really freaks me out. I swear every shadow is out to get me. It’s freaky.”
Keith stares at Lance for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “Somehow, I totally see it. I don’t think I have any movies I can’t watch. I watched Sharknado one time, and I thought it was okay, but Shiro swore that I came from the depths of hell. According to him, ‘No human should be able to watch that movie without wanting to bang their head against the wall.’ So yeah, I’m not exactly a movie connoisseur.”
Lance nods solemnly. “Your brother is right. Anyone who can watch Sharknado without cringing comes from the depths of hell. Begone, demon.”
He shoves Keith playfully, who shoves him back. It turns into a shove war, and Lance hopes Keith doesn't notice how his hand lingers a bit every time he touches him.
They make small talk about their week as they head towards the theater. Keith never judges Lance for his antics, taking them in stride and even reciprocating. Truth be told, Lance really likes this. Hanging out with Keith is so refreshing, and their banter never stops, and for once, he’s not that worried about what classes he has tomorrow. He’s reminded of high school, staying out late with friends, constant jibes at each other.
So all in all, Lance is having a pretty good day. They see the group and start walking towards them, but Hunk looks a bit apologetic. And Lance knows why, as soon as he looks down at his ticket.
----
Lance stumbles out the theater, clinging onto Hunk for dear life. He thinks Allura is a gorgeous, kind woman, but why did she have to like horror?
There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Lance nearly jumps a foot into the air. He whirls around and meets with Keith face-to-face , whose brows are creased with worry and amusement. He holds up his hands in peace. “Uh, you good? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Yeah, totally. You didn’t scare me at all.”
Pidge shoots a skeptical stare. Allura and Shiro look suitably apologetic. Hunk offers a tentative smile. Keith looks amused, which Lance feels like has been happening quite often.
“I’m sure you’re not, since you’re Lance .” Keith bumps shoulders with Lance, but this time, Lance can feel everyone’s eyes zeroing on them. Lance ignores them, replying with his usual gusto. “Yep, I’m Lance. You know it. Like who wouldn’t g-lance at me,ha.”
Honestly, Lance is a lot more freaked out than he’s letting on. On the way home, Lance jumps every single time a car passes by, earning him stares from passerbys. Hunk and Pidge lead the way, turning their heads back to check on Lance every few minutes. Lance knows it’s unreasonable, since the street is well-illuminated, and what’s the chance something supernatural would be right here and aim for him within the large crowd, but Lance can’t help but think that every shadow is out to get him. The last time he had watched a horror movie, he had been in middle school, spurred on by a stupid dare. He ended up not able to leave his room for two days, holed up under his blankets and faking sickness. Apparently not much had changed between those years and now.
Once they get home, Lance immediately rushes to his room, kicking off his shoes in the doorway and throwing his jacket on the couch. He dives into his blankets, pulling them around him like a burrito. He hears the door creak open, which nearly gives him a heart attack, until he hears Pidge’s voice. “Uh, Lance? I’m gonna leave you some water here. Just remember, it’s all fake. Don’t worry about ghosts, since I could probably invent some machine to fight them for you anyways.” Lance has to chuckle a bit at the last part, especially because he has no doubt in his mind that Pidge would actually do that. After Pidge leaves, Lance sits there trying to think of happy things, and he ultimately ends up thinking of Keith. Keith, who likes aliens. Keith, who works at a motorcycle shop. Keith, who looks amazing with his hair tied up and down. Keith, who likes the color red. Keith-
Lance is startled out of his thoughts by his phone flashing. He cringes a bit as he reaches for the bedstand, swiping it as fast as he can before the ghosts get him. Speak of the devil. He has a text notification from Keith. He opens it up under the safety of his covers.
From Keith
> Are you okay?
To Keith
> yeah, I’ll live under my blankets forever and then the ghosts won’t get me.
From Keith
> If you can’t sleep, I don’t mind staying up with you.
> We can text?
To Keith
> ye actually i’d like that a lot
Lance is inexplicably touched that Keith actually remembered what Lance said about getting nightmares. It’s a sweet gesture, and if Lance didn’t already like Keith, he probably would after this. Keith seems so cold at first, but Lance knows first-hand that Keith is super caring and attentive, and he’s also really funny and knows how to crack jokes.
They text about random subjects, from high school memories to favorite foods and music. Lance tells the story about his experience with horror in middle school, and Keith responds by recounting how at one time, he had scared Shiro during the night because his hair covered his whole face, like the ghost from the Grudge . Lance is content trading stories, so much that he forgets all about terrifying ghosts and focuses instead on how drowsy he is, trying to stay awake as long as he can to keep talking to Keith.
That night, he dreams of a boy with a mullet, his body made of stars, dusting the darkness with soft laughter.
----
Lance is sitting in the library bored out of his mind. He should be studying, but he just can’t get in the mood for it. He doesn’t go back to the dorms because he knows if he does, he’ll probably get nothing done for sure. At least in the library, surrounded by students who are actually doing their jobs, Lance feels a bit more motivated to try and do something. He’s rereading some passage in his history book for the thousandth time because it just won’t sink in when he hears the chair across from him scrape against the carpet. He looks up, and Keith is standing there in full mullet glory, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
“Does the mighty Lance have time to grace me with his presence?”
“You bet.” Lance is grateful for a momentary distraction. They tell each other about their days, both of which are pretty average as far as days go. Still, Lance really likes just being able to talk to Keith.
Keith pulls out some textbooks and a notebook, quietly scribbling what looks like math. They sit there in silence for a bit until Lance groans out of frustration, still stuck on the same page.
“The mighty Lance is not so mighty in face of homework.” Keith proclaims, waiting for Lance to take the bait, which he does, because, well, he's Lance.
“Nope, nope, nope. I am always mighty. Remember that, Keith. Even when I’m dying of homework. “ Lance points his finger, waggling it at Keith’s face. “Just because you’re a pretty face, doesn’t mean you can say I’m not mighty.”
Lance is brain-dead, so it takes him a second to process what he just said, and then his jaw drops, because sweet mother of Jesus, he was not supposed to admit that he even found Keith an atom of attractive.
Maybe he thinks I’m just being the usual flirty, like I am with everyone. Lance comforts himself that at least, Keith hasn’t even moved an inch, and he’s still talking to Lance.
Keith, on the other hand, is having less of an existential crisis. All he does is beam, which makes Lance’s flush even worse because Keith looks really good, happy because Lance spewed a compliment.
“Here, I think I took that course last semester. I can help you out, maybe?” Keith offers.
Lance wonders what he’s done to be so blessed.
Afterwards, Lance offers to buy Keith coffee in return. He pointedly does not mention how he just wants to spend more time with Keith before he returns to homework hell.
Keith orders his coffee with copious amounts of cream and sugar, topped with a tower of whipped cream. Somehow, Lance isn’t even surprised that Keith has a sweet-tooth, but he does feel himself getting cavities as he watches Keith drink his latte.
Lance thinks he wouldn't mind his coffee being so sweet if he could taste it directly from Keith’s mouth. His mind is wandering towards dangerous territory, which is really not helping his crush, but he can't help but let himself daydream just a bit. It's easy to think that they're on a date, laughing down the sidewalk as Keith puts a dollop of whipped cream on Lance’s nose. And Lance is doing the same, but Keith darts out of his way, teasing and beautiful and worth it.
---
“Called it,” Pidge and Hunk say in unison. Lance almost smacks them, but he actually kind of needs their help, because he knows how to romance, but this is Keith, who Lance suspects may not recognize romance even if it smacked him in the face. See, Lance had actually tried to be romantic for Keith, holding open doors instead of racing him to them, but Keith had looked at Lance as if he had grown an extra pair of feet or something. Lance needed a better plan, so he swallowed his pride and asked his genius friends.
Lance knows if it wasn't at his extent, he would definitely laugh at the incredulity of the situation, but that doesn't stop Lance from repeatedly smacking both of them with a pillow. All that makes them do is laugh harder, so Lance settles for sulking on the couch. He tries to look extra upset just so they'll feel bad, but then he gets a message from Keith. It's a picture of a cat in a tree, and then another message pops up. Going to save the cat. Lance is struck by how Keith is such a good samaritan, and he's just about to declare this to the world (aka Pidge and Hunk) as another reason to like Keith.
“You've got it really bad, huh?” Pidge says. They're no longer laughing, wicked glee replaced by a caring smile.
“I-”
“Yeah, you've got it bad. He makes you happy, so I'm totally ready to matchmake,” Hunk cuts in, sparing Lance from the embarrassment of answering.
They disregard their homework, letting it sit for tomorrow in favor of discussing the weekend, where Lance has a grand total of two days to win over Keith’s heart. The three throw ideas back and forth, searching the Internet for sappy, cliché ideas and unorthodox methods of romance. It's not until it's ten at night that Lance jumps up and shouts, “This is gonna be perfect!”
Pidge and Hunk sigh in relief, glad for their friend but exhausted all the same.
“Now for my outfit.”
Lance is met with several pillows to the face.
---
Lance self-consciously tugs at his clothes. He constantly checks his phone, making sure he didn't dream up Keith’s reply. He’s been checking it since seven in the morning, when he woke up entirely too early out of excitement and nervousness. He nearly drops his phone when it vibrates.
From Keith
> Sorry, I'm on my way out. I was taking the clothes in.
Lance takes a deep breath to calm himself. He stands in front of Keith’s door, tapping his feet every few seconds and trying not to have a mental breakdown, because for now, it’s just two friends hanging out that would maybe hopefully end up being a date. According to Keith, Shiro and Allura live together in one apartment while Keith lives in another, since he couldn't deal with walking on them being disgustingly sweet.
Keith throws the door open, and Lance encounters a feeling of deja vu as he nearly drops his phone again, but for entirely different reasons. Keith looks well, good , for a lack of a better word. His mullet is still the same messy attractive, but he’s wearing ripped black skinny jeans that hug his legs and a black t-shirt inside of a red flannel. To top it off, he’s wearing brown boots, which look pretty new. It takes Lance a minute to realize that hey, human conversation is a thing.
“Hey. That uh, really suits you.”
Keith smiles, and if Lance was a lesser person, he would’ve swooned.
“Thanks, you uh-” and then Keith makes this choking noise, and Lance’s hands impulsively go to fix his shirt collar. After upturning his whole closet amongst the complaints of Pidge and Hunk, Lance finally decided to wear his favorite worn jeans with a navy polo inside of a grey sweater. He’s wearing his blue sneakers for good luck. “Yeah, uh you look good too.”
There’s an awkward silence as they hang around each other, eyes looking everywhere but each other. Lance can’t help but think of how Hunk and Pidge, if they knew about this, would never let him live this down. Lance McClain, suave and flirty, acting like he’s thirteen with a crush.
It’s Keith who breaks the silence first. “So, let’s go?”
Lance nods. Once the moment passes, Lance is back in his element, winningly making conversation.
“Aren’t you glad they finally fixed the elevator?”
“Yeah, I thought the were never going to do that. But I kind of liked the stairs.”
“Why?”
“Well, that's how we met each other. That counts for something, right?”
Lance sputters because Keith is out-romancing him, and he's not even trying. Still, he can't help but reply with a smile, “Yeah, it really does.”
They're bonding about space as they stroll down the street. Keith is talking about aliens again, and Lance thinks it's amazing how he even thought Keith was an asshole. It's like impossible for anyone that can talk about space and aliens for twenty minutes straight to be anything other than amazing. Lance knows, since he's one of the people that can do that.
They arrive at the same movie theaters as last time, and he pulls out two tickets with a flourish. “So, to make up for the terrible experience I had at the movies last time, we’re gonna watch Alien: Covenant . Sci-fi rules, am I right?”
Keith nods in agreement. Since it's eleven in the morning, there's not too many people, so the lines are thankfully short. They buy the combo that comes with two drinks and a large popcorn. Keith and Lance find that they have a lot of things in common, like pouring an unhealthy amount of butter into the tub. Last time, Lance shared with Pidge, who only likes a tiny bit of butter, so he had been deprived. They march off to the theater, hands already greasy with butter. They manage to get the good seats in the upper half, right in the middle.
Lance isn't sure what's happening in the movie because for the last ten minutes, he's been trying to do that stupid cliché where his hands will “accidentally” brush against Keith's when they reach for popcorn. The problem is that Keith is actually really engrossed in the movie, so much that he doesn't notice anything around him.
Fuck it. Lance begins tossing popcorn at Keith, who only notices when Lance mis-aims and one flies into Keith’s line of vision.
“You're so childish,” Keith whispers, but he still grabs a handful and shoves them down Lance’s sweater. Lance huffs in mock offense and retaliates, and pretty soon there’s a pile of wasted popcorn on the floor, but Lance can't bring himself to mind.
They're trying to keep their voices down, but Lance is naturally loud, so he can't help it when a laugh slips out. At a totally inappropriate time, too, judging from the heads that turn.
“Whoops.” Lance looks towards Keith sheepishly, but the traitor . Keith is turned towards the screen as if he had been engrossed in the movie the whole time. Lance wants to retaliate, but he figures he should at least watch some of the movie, or else he won’t be able to discuss it with Keith without getting lost. Still, he finds his eyes drawn towards Keith. His features are washed in blue light, but he still manages to pull it off, a bit ethereal and mysterious. Lance shakes his head and tries to focus on the movie, especially since the aliens have actually shown up now, but he just can’t seem to do it.
Man, I am so gay, Lance laments.
---
They walk out the movie theater, eyes squinting under the harsh midday sun. Lance notices how Keith’s nose is kind of wrinkled, and it’s just so cute. The day isn’t going exactly according to plan, since Lance kind of did fail part one, but between the sound of Keith’s excited chatter about the movie and the clear, blue skies, Lance can’t bring himself to be too bummed out.
Keith and Lance debate about several plot points. They’re still bickering as they climb aboard the public bus, and when they raise their voices as Lance claims he totally saw the ending coming, they get dirty looks. Lance thinks they’re probably being judged nonstop, but none of that matters as Keith rolls his eyes, mirth evident from the small uplifted corner of his mouth.
They reach a local burger joint, which Hunk swears is as good as an five-star restaurant and much more affordable. Lance thanks Hunk for his extensive knowledge of restaurants, because god knows his wallet will need it. Hunk also mentioned that this place makes amazing shakes, which Lance is sure Keith is going to love. When they order their burgers, Lance asks Keith to get him a drink, sneakily ordering a large strawberry milkshake. Keith shoots him a weird glance across the room. In hindsight, Lance should have just ordered like a normal person, not leaning over the counter to whisper to the increasingly frightened employee.
They settle down at the table tucked in the corner. Lance digs into his burger, and it’s pure heaven . What’s even better is the surprised expression Keith has, and he begins to devour his burger, taking huge bites that make him look somewhere between pitiful and silly, and Lance isn’t so far gone that he’ll let an opportunity for blackmail pass by. He snaps a quick photo and sends it to their group chat.
“Hunk should be a food critic. He really knows what he’s talking about,” Keith groans. Lance hums in agreement. He promptly puts away his phone before Keith will suspect his scheme. Keith is glancing towards Lance with suspicion, so he covers it up by exclaiming, “I’m never gonna be able to accomplish my childhood dream!”
“Huh?” Keith is caught off-guard, and he actually seems a bit worried.
“So I’ve learned that movies have messages for you, and you should probably listen to those. All I got from the movie was don’t go to space if you’re gay, so I think I may not be the best man for the job, unless I’d like to face some crazy cyborg.”
Keith remains silent. Lance is excessively winking, hoping to incite some sort of emotion. Finally Keith opens his mouth.
“Lance, that’s not how it works.”
“Details.”
Keith hums in disagreement, but he doesn’t continue arguing, too focused on demolishing the fries. Lance watches how Keith eyes his fries, and with only mild regret, dramatically proclaims that his stomach is about to burst, giving an open invitation for the other boy to take his food, which he promptly takes. Lance is so distracted by the dumb conspiracy theories Keith is talking about, adding in sarcastic remarks here and there because no way , and it’s only when his phone buzzes that he checks the time with alarm.
“Fuck. Keith, we gotta go right now.”
Keith, understandably, is confused and stuffs the rest of the fries into his mouth. Lance drags him down the busy streets, sort of ignoring crosswalk lights because hey, there’s no cars, and they’re in a rush. Whenever he crosses the intersection with a red light, he winces a bit, because he can just imagine his mother’s voice, scolding him for his stupidity and carelessness.
The things I do for love, Lance sighs.
They reach the destination almost exactly on time. Keith blinks up at the dome-shaped building, his eyes disbelieving and bright with excitement.
“The planetarium?”
Lance nods, fumbling with his wallet to pull out the money. He shoves a ticket at Keith, who is breathing a bit harder than usual, sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead. Lance, on the other hand, is actually dying internally, and he hopes Keith won’t catch on that Lance is terribly out-of-shape and probably should go running or to the gym.
The cool air of the planetarium is refreshing, and Lance feels less like death after a quick drink of water. They barely manage to find seats when the lights go off. There’s something mystical about sitting there next to Keith, fingers barely brushing as the guide recounts constellation after constellation. The whispers of others around them are drowned out by Keith’s soft laughter as Lance and him go over more minor constellations, since they’re both exceptional space nerds. Lance feels like he’s over the moon, and the feeling continues even after the show ends. Keith (who Lance thought had a permanent frown etched on his face once upon a time), is still laughing, a boyish smile on his face, so bright and youthful that Lance almost forgets the actual sun exists.
They wander around the town, slipping in and out of stores and passing stories back and forth. Lance learns that Keith started dancing when he was seven, and he only did it at first because Shiro did it. Eventually, Keith came to love dancing, from the slight burn of muscles from hard work to the bright spotlight like a miniature sun shining down on the stage to the emotions welling up within him everytime he danced. Lance talks about his days as a swimmer, molded by the waves of Varadero, and how he would go to the ocean just to watch the tide rise and fall whenever he felt overwhelmed. He talks about sand castles with his siblings and how even though he loves swimming, he isn’t as interested in surfing, which is more his brother’s thing.
They bask in memories of the past together, which Lance feels is the most intimate he’s ever been with anyone. As he learns more and more about Keith, Lance wants more. The dusk settles into the sky and washes the streets in an orange tinge. Lance has another day of plans for tomorrow, but he thinks of discarding them for wooing. The moment feels so right under the last hours of day, walking down the worn street with worn stories. They pass by the coffee place, and Keith orders the same overly sweet latte while Lance sticks with a normal flavor.
Lance is reminded of that time after the study session, and he figures it’s now or never.
Except when Lance is opening his mouth, ready to spew out romantic metaphors that would put Shakespeare to shame, Keith is already mumbling, “Hey, can we go somewhere before we go back?”
“Yeah, sure.” Lance is a bit bummed out, but he figures he has tomorrow. He’s also really curious because even though Keith has shared stories, he’s never suggested plans for Lance. They walk towards a park with a hill, and Lance is cursing his laziness again because the hill is pretty steep.
“I bet you run this hill for fun,” Lance groans as he collapses at the top next to Keith, who doesn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lance tries again. Keith is unusually quiet, and Lance thinks for a second that he’s fallen asleep or something until Keith goes, “Shhh.” He points up at the sky, and Lance looks up. His breath freezes and his heart pounds, because this is so romantic and cliche, but it’s perfect.
The night sky is filled with meteors, white and ethereal. Lance doesn’t know he managed to forget about this, because he had been excited about it for months now, but Keith remembered. He feels Keith’s hands on his own, and he tears his gaze away from the sky to look at Keith, who, even under the faint light, is obviously blushing. Lance turns his attention back to the meteor shower, a matching blush on his face and a smile curling on his lips.
“I figured you’d like this, seeing as you’re a huge space nerd.” Keith is the first to speak up after the spectacle ends.
“You’re just as big of a space nerd, so hush.” Lance stares at Keith, his mind still unable to fully process that they’re holding hands , and Keith is the one who started it.
“True. Well, that’s even better. That way, we can be space boyfriends together.” Keith seems almost casual when he answers, but there’s a slight tremble to his voice that betrays his nervousness.
“Yeah, the best kind of boyfriends,” Lance replies easily.
Keith lets out a shaky breath of relief, and Lance chooses that moment to drag Keith down so that they’re laying side by side. They stare at each other for an awkward second, but then Keith is grabbing Lance’s face, and Lance’s fingers are tangled in Keith’s hair.
Keith hums under him, and all Lance can think as he chases after Keith’s mouth is Yeah, his coffee actually tastes pretty good on his lips.