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It was weird, being back on a high school campus again. Shiro hadn’t set foot here since his own graduation, and most of that day had been an embarrassing drunken haze. There were a lot of memories here, some of them fond, many of them…things he would rather forget.
Shiro still cringed at the vast majority of the things he had done during his high school football days. It was a miracle, and a testament to Keith’s loyalty, that their friendship had survived even Shiro’s many failed attempts at learning to keg stand.
It was almost a blessing that he was late, cutting any reminiscence short. Scurrying past the old chem lab, he hustled to the other side of the school. The graduation ceremony would be in the giant football stadium, a place where Shiro had spent most of his high school years huffing the scent of dirty gym socks and old sneakers. Already he could hear the crowd, a slightly off-key rendition of “Pomp and Circumstance” echoing back to him as the band played in the distance.
When he finally made it out to the field, he was running later than expected and ended up nestled in between two large families, each blowing airhorns and waving streamers. According to the text from their mom, Keith and Lance’s family were somewhere on the other side of the 50-yard line, likely waving their own homemade poster boards and balloons. He would meet up with them soon enough.
He hadn’t spoken to Keith since the night before, offering what little comfort he could to his friend already in the minor throes of panic.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Keith had groaned, likely holding the phone to his ear as he stared at what Shiro assumed were piles of unpacked things around his room.
Keith and Lance were coming out to Altea to stay with Shiro for a week, getting to know the campus and the feel of the city before officially moving in August for school. It was supposed to be a way to ease them into the idea of moving away from home for the first time. But, Keith was a planner and a stresser, and it was clear he was in the full force grip of both.
“What about Lance? Is he any help?” Shiro suggested.
Keith scoffed, “Lance? He’s bringing enough clothes for a month. In his words, just in case.”
That surprised Shiro. But he hadn’t seen Lance in the past three years. Keith, in true teenager fashion, had chosen to come up to Shiro’s off-campus apartment to visit. Any excuse to get out from under his parents’ thumbs, which Shiro more than understood. Based off of vague half-memories, Shiro couldn’t say he remembered Lance being big into clothes. But that didn’t really say much. Lance had been knee deep in braces and acne then and Shiro highly doubted that was still true either.
He wondered what Lance looked like now but couldn’t seem to form an image in his mind.
It became pretty clear Shiro wasn’t going to get an answer to his Lance question during the ceremony either. It was increasingly obvious he was on the wrong side of the stadium, Keith and Lance somewhere in the middle of the 800 graduates, and the stage far enough away that everyone looked enmired in a blurred mass rather than individual students in blue. There was a jumbotron showing students as they crossed, but the image kept glitching, blurring the faces into bland pixels that soccer moms would likely throw a fit over later.
Shiro grinned when Keith crossed, the screen clearing enough to make out that same mullet and an unsurprising scowl as he hustled off the stage and away from the eyes of the crowd. It wasn’t long before Lance’s name was called, but by this point the screen was hopelessly unfocused. Shiro could barely make out a string bean kid waving his arm around in the general direction of the crowd as he accepted his diploma.
The rest was a blur of unknown names and faces over shrieking megaphone as Shiro waited for the last name to be called. His phone buzzed with texts from Keith and an unknown number that Shiro quickly figured out was Lance.
Keith: Lance keeps trying to find you in the crowd.
Unknown: SHIRO! Where are you? It’s been forever!
Keith: He got a new number, so if you’re getting weird texts…
Unknown: It’s me! Lance!
Shiro snorted, quickly typing out a response to both of them. He thought he vaguely saw someone twisting around to look in his direction, but he was still too far away to make it out. Even though he knew that Lance had grown, Keith’s constant complaining about Lance’s height making it pretty clear, all he could picture was speccy freshman Lance, with glasses way too big for his face and free school t-shirts that he practically swam in.
After the ceremony, Shiro watched the crush of people and blue graduation gowns from his vantage point on a little hill outside the school, a swirling mix of pleasant turmoil. One gown in particular caught his eye, a lanky dark-skinned boy looking around, hat clutched in his hands. His hair was wavy with hat hair and sweat, making Shiro smile. He was cute, and Shiro bit his lip on a grin as he caught sight of the floral tie and light blue button-down peeking out from the open shapeless gown.
Shiro wondered how mad Keith would be if he hit on one of his former classmates. It would be easy to tap him on the shoulder, charm him a little bit, maybe get a kiss behind the bleachers for old time’s sake. But the idea would never grow legs. He was here for Keith, even if the boy really was Shiro’s type. It didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy looking, especially when that pretty face turned his way and—
“Shiro!”
Startled, he watched in slow motion as six feet of gorgeous ran up to him and threw his arms around Shiro’s neck.
“Lance?!” Shiro gasped, his arms coming automatically around his waist to steady them both or risk falling back into the tree.
Lance pulled back, arms still locked tight around Shiro’s neck. The acne and braces were long gone. Instead, all Shiro could see were pretty blue eyes sparkling at him and a pretty pink mouth inches from his.
Shiro was struck by the sudden and irresistible realization that he was in trouble.
“Shiro?” Keith called from somewhere behind Lance.
He was probably running up to them right now, but Lance was still in his arms and Shiro was finding it incredibly hard to release his hold.
Shiro really was in so so much trouble.
Lance gave him a funny look as he tried to pull back only to find Shiro’s arms still locked around his waist. “Shiro?” Lance asked and laughed when Shiro fumbled and let him go so he could hug Keith.
“Hey, buddy, congrats!” Shiro grinned, tucking Keith against him tight enough to make him squawk before letting him go.
“Thanks, and thanks for coming. You didn’t—”
Shiro held his hand up, beaming at Keith. “I absolutely did, and I wanted to come.”
“He just wanted to see how I turned out!” Lance teased as he threw his arms around his brother’s shoulders and looked at Shiro over Keith’s hair.
“Yeah…I thought you had…” Shiro coughed in a way that was probably way too telling as he gestured to Lance’s face.
“Glasses? Yeah! I got contacts!” Lance batted his eyelashes jokingly, still standing way too close to Shiro for comfort even with Keith between them.
“You like?”
Shiro…definitely liked. Lance had really long, beautiful eyelashes framing eyes that absolutely had not been that blue three years ago. It suddenly occurred to Shiro that Lance was wearing mascara, his eyes made even more doe-like and earnest from the subtle makeup and nearly sending Shiro’s heart into fits.
Shiro could feel his cheeks heating up, Keith’s eyes on him, and that very serious revelation came again. Lance leaned forward to look him curiously in the eye, nearly overbalancing Keith who was now taking his full weight. Something seemed to click and his own eyes widened in realization as he stared at Shiro, open mouthed.
Shiro was in big fucking trouble.
It was a blessing when Lance and Keith’s parents showed up. Photo-taking was as good of a distraction as any, even if spending long moments watching Lance smile and pose was probably one of the last things he should be doing. Imagining kissing Lance was the last thing he should be doing, but recognizing that and following through seemed to be two vastly different things.
“Shiro!”
Shiro startled, Lance suddenly a lot closer then he had been a few minutes ago. The cameras had turned on Keith, who was flushed but smiling as his mom snapped photo after photo of him in his gown with flowers in his hands.
Grabbing Shiro’s hands in his, Lance pulled him close. “Shiro, you have to come to the graduation party.”
Lance’s hands were sweaty in his, but Shiro found himself squeezing them anyway.
“He’s already going!” Keith shouted behind them but Lance only grinned.
“You’re going for Keith. I want you to go for me, too,” Lance pressed, taking a step closer so the toes of their dress shoes bumped together.
Shiro desperately wanted to run his hand through his hair, a nervous tic that was currently impossible as Lance continued to clasp his hands in his.
“I’m going for both of you,” Shiro finally managed, his tongue thick and sticking to the roof of his mouth.
The sun broke across Lance’s face and he beamed. “Good!”
And, just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone, leaping onto Keith’s back and nearly toppling them to the ground in his excitement. Shiro pretended he had only imagined the knowing look Keith had shot him before he had fallen under Lance’s weight.
-
If Shiro had thought the party would be any better, he had never been more wrong in his life. Lance had traded in his formal wear for tight-fitting jeans and a shirt just short enough to flash the bare line of his hip. Shiro found his eye frequently caught by Lance’s belly button whenever Lance would laugh and bend back a little so the shirt would ride up just enough to show off before falling down again.
It didn’t help that Shiro could tell at least half of it was on purpose. Lance, despite all the changes, was just as unsubtle as he had always been. The only difference now was that he didn’t seem to care. Instead of looking away, blushing like he used to, he would hold Shiro’s gaze for long moments whenever they would catch each other. That slow easy smirk was new, too and seemed to be doing wonders for ruining Shiro’s concentration and self-control.
It was almost a relief when Lance’s grandmother came up behind Lance, startling him badly enough that the punch he was holding sloshed over his hand and formed a puddle of red on the floor.
“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so sorry!” Lance’s grandmother gasped, already searching frantically for napkins.
Shiro lost sight of him after that, several of Lance’s friends crowding around him to help clean up the mess and blocking the view. Shiro took that as the opportunity it was and slipped out into the backyard for some air. Most of the other partygoers were in the house, a few people milling around and smoking by the fence. The door opened again behind Shiro but when he glanced over his shoulder it was Keith, closing the sliding glass door.
“You know, this is why I tried to keep you guys apart after Lance’s growth spurt,” Keith sighed, as he sidled up next to Shiro.
Shiro was relieved at least to see Keith smiling, taking the sting out of his words.
“Really?”
“I mean…only a little. Unfortunately, Lance had the audacity to turn into someone people apparently find attractive. He’s been turning them down for the past year.” Keith shrugged, like it was no matter to him.
“Why?”
Keith stared at him, a slight frown finally forming as he spoke, “Only has eyes for you.”
“That’s not…”
Keith gave him a look, letting him know exactly what he thought of that line of defense. Lance’s crush on Shiro had always been something they had all been vaguely aware of, but it had never seemed a pressing concern. Lance was Lance. He was goofy and over the top and would likely flirt with a stump if it would let him. Except now…now he was something else, something demanding Shiro’s attention more than he ever thought possible.
“Besides, I’ve seen your exes , and you have a type. Even more unfortunately, lanky boy seems to be it.”
Shiro shrugged, bashful, but it wasn’t like he could deny it. And Lance…Lance was exactly his type: the easy smiles, the way he bit his lip whenever he glanced over at Shiro. He could see him now through the kitchen window, playing with a curl at the nape of his neck.
Lance caught Shiro watching and for once that night , quickly looked away. That hand stayed where it was, still twirling the chestnut lock around his index finger. It may have been the heat of early summer filtering in through the open windows, turning his cheeks and the back of his neck pink, but Shiro liked to think it was a blush.
Keith glanced behind him and quickly realized where, or at who, Shiro had been looking.
“You guys are going to be really gross if this works out, huh?” Keith laughed, running his free hand through his sweaty hair.
Opening and closing his mouth several times, Shiro tried to work out what to say to that. The music pumping from inside was likely covering their words, but Shiro shot another nervous glance at the window.
Keith just rolled his eyes. “Giving the shovel talk to my best friend about my brother is really fucking weird. So just…don’t hurt him.”
Keith scrunched up his nose but must have decided that was good enough. He patted Shiro on the arm instead and turned to go back inside only to find Lance hovering at the door. “Don’t be gross,” Keith warned, sticking his tongue out at Lance as he darted under his arm.
“What? I haven’t done anything! Keith!” Lance turned to yell at his brother but seemed to think better of it.
It was gratifyingly complimentary when Lance turned back and squeaked at finding Shiro so close to him. Up close, Lance seemed to lose himself. The same boy who had held his gaze so confidently from across the room had fled. Now Lance could barely look him in the eye. Shiro was pleased to see the pink of his cheeks deepen. Definitely a blush.
“Can we talk?” Shiro asked, still crowding Lance a little as they blocked the way outside.
Lance hesitated, licking his lips and looking anywhere but at Shiro. For just a moment, Shiro thought he had been wrong, that Keith had been wrong. He took a step back, already ready to apologize, to offer to leave. Only Lance’s hand on his wrist stopped him. His hands were still sweaty, even after being inside. Shiro inanely, stupidly thought about how he would have to get used to that, always having sweaty hands. The way Lance slipped his hand down to Shiro’s, locking their fingers together made Shiro think he really wouldn’t mind.
“Come on,” Lance murmured.
He dragged Shiro back into the house and through the crowd. Shiro ducked his head low, avoiding Keith’s knowing smirk and the hoots from Lance’s friends. He was only glad that Lance and Keith’s parents had gone outside to start the grill.
The house was only one story, but the hallway in the front of the house was dark and away from the others. Shiro could still hear the faint beat of music through the walls. It occurred to him that anyone could walk through the front door and see them standing there, holding hands.
It felt illicit, the way their hands were pressed together. Shiro could feel the ridges of Lance’s palm against his. It felt like at any moment someone would come and call him out, announce to the whole room that Shiro was holding Lance’s hand in the dark. Shiro tried to pull back a little, to find his head. He tried to remember Lance as he used to know him. But Lance was particularly unobliging as he kept looking up at Shiro with those blue eyes, bright even in the dim lighting. Shiro didn’t even think when he reached up, palming Lance’s cheek with his prosthetic. He wished he could feel the heat of his skin, but when he tilted Lance’s face more towards the light he could at least see the blush still there, bright paint on his round cheeks.
“Lance, I—”
Shiro felt he should have expected it, the way Lance lunged for him. The press of their mouths was clumsy, teeth clacking as Shiro moved to steady him. It didn’t occur to him to pull back, not when he had just felt the heat of Lance’s mouth against his. Every attempt to think of Lance from years ago evaporated the second their skin touched. Lance, this Lance, was an entirely different being.
Shiro crowded him back, shifting his body easily as he moved Lance to rest against the wall. Squeaking, Lance started to pull back but found he had nowhere to go with Shiro at his front and the hall at his back. It was Shiro who pulled away instead, hand moving to cup the back of Lance’s head apologetically from where it had bumped against a hanging frame.
“Sorry…sorry I…” Shiro laughed, self-conscious of the fact that he had just so obviously lost control.
“Sorry?” Lance blinked up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sorry as in, sorry you kissed me or…?”
Shiro’s eyes widened, understanding exactly what he had just sounded like.
“No! No…I meant…sorry I just…” Shiro massaged the back of Lance’s head, unable to form the words. Unable to say: Sorry I nearly mauled you and likely would if you had let me. When had he lost all sense of cool?
The air shifted between them, growing light and teasing as a sly smile touched Lance’s mouth.
“You’re actually kind of a dweeb, aren’t you?” Lance laughed softly, that same enigmatic smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he looked up at Shiro from his slump against the wall.
“Thanks,” Shiro deadpanned.
He was still combing his fingers through Lance’s hair, marveling at the way the curls bent naturally around his knuckles. Shiro was sure his own hair had never felt this soft.
Lance was blushing again, but he didn’t stop catting his head into Shiro’s touch.
“I don’t know if Keith told you but…I decided I’m definitely going to the Garrison…” Lance trailed off shyly, using the nickname for Shiro’s university.
Shiro pictured Lance at his school, the way he would walk through the campus, all eyes drawn to him. Shiro had no doubt Lance would be popular. Keith had all but confirmed that for Shiro outside.
Was it silly to feel jealous? He had known Lance the longest; he had known Lance most of his life. Which in itself was a reason not to pursue this. He tried to picture some faceless asshole taking Lance out, holding his hand, pulling him close in some bar. The timing felt weird, the level of jealousy off the charts for a relationship that wasn’t at all, just a kiss in the dark. But their relationship was already tangled--one part kiss, ten parts twelve-year-old Shiro bandaging nine-year-old Lance’s skinned knee when he fell off his bike.
There was no decision, the words flowing out unstoppable.
“Can I take you out sometime?” Shiro blurted, flushing as Lance’s head jerked back in surprise.
Shiro didn’t blame him. He had practically shouted it at Lance.
Lance shook his head, looking down at his shoes for a minute before glancing back up at Shiro through his lashes. “You really are a dweeb,” Lance laughed to himself, finally raising his arms to wrap around Shiro’s shoulders before he could duck away.
“Yes, please take me out. I…I’ve wanted that for a long time,” Lance confessed, all traces of bravado and humor stripped from his voice as he settled his body more firmly against Shiro’s.
“How long?” Shiro asked, although he thought he already knew.
“Long enough to be embarrassing, so don’t ask!” Lance chastised, but Shiro could feel the skip of his heart where his cheek pressed against skin.
Shiro sighed, knocking his head over Lance’s shoulder and against the wall.
“I think I’ve been an idiot, not seeing you,” Shiro admitted to Lance’s collarbone.
He could feel the sharp intake of breath against him, Lance’s chest expanding into his.
“Do you see me now?” Lance asked.
He sounded so uncertain and Shiro worried that he had been the one to make him feel that way.
“I see you now,” Shiro agreed.
He didn’t know what that meant or entailed, and he doubted Lance did either. But, it meant something and Shiro had a feeling that it would continue to mean something even beyond today.
Shiro finally stepped back, placing a final kiss against the side of Lance’s neck that made his breath stutter.
“I didn’t tell you earlier but, you look really beautiful tonight.” Shiro thumbed the side of Lance’s neck where his lips had just been.
Much to Shiro’s horror, Lance’s eyes started to fill.
“Whoa …Lance.” Shiro reached up with his prosthetic, cupping Lance’s jaw and frantically wiping away the stray tears that had escaped down his cheeks.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just…a long day. I’m okay.” Lance smiled ruefully.
“You’re okay,” Shiro echoed, taking Lance’s hand and allowing him to pull him back out to the party.
At some point Lance slipped his hold, wandering over to Keith. Shiro could hear them clearly from his vantage point at the drinks table.
“You planned this, didn’t you?”
Keith shrugged, but he looked more self-satisfied than Shiro would have expected.
“Thanks, Keith,” Lance murmured, hugging his brother quickly before letting go.
“Yeah well, no sex while we’re visiting or I take it back.”
“Take it back? You can’t take it back.” Lance gaped, not missing the playful grin Keith shot Shiro.
“Sure I can! Shiro was my friend first!”
“What? Keith!”
Shiro stopped, the words fully starting to form in his mind. Lance in his apartment. Lance in his apartment for a full week. He looked at Lance, his cheeks still rosy with indignation, the way he was biting his lip against a smile anyway.
Shiro realized, once again, for the millionth time that day, that he was in big trouble.