Work Text:
In the dictionary, beside the word dangerous, laid pictures of snakes, spiders, and Long Island iced teas with cute swirly straws and potentially illegal amounts of alcohol hidden away inside.
Everyone knew that much, Lance included. They were delicious, though, and Lance struggled with denying himself the things he found tasty.
So, he figured no one could really blame him for acting the lovesick puppy over Keith and Shiro, perfect eye candy as they were. First of all, his ogling was already commonplace, even while completely sober. Secondly, his drunken heart eyes and forlorn sighs were impossible to deny when Keith and Shiro looked so beautiful under the bar’s lowlights, huddled together close like the enticing epitome of love.
Keith sipped at his own drink slowly, pretty lips resting plump against the rim. Then, Shiro leaned in close to whisper something into Keith’s ear with his nose buried inside Keith’s not-so-ugly-anymore mullet. Keith’s subsequent smile turned his lips even sweeter to Lance because he looked like a sated kitten devoid of his usual smirk-laden scowl, and Shiro’s cotton-stuffed grin also left Lance both wanting and jealous.
Lance, predictably, yearned to know what they were talking about, but he knew he didn’t have any place amongst them. They had made that clear years ago.
The thought still stung.
“Better close your mouth before you start drooling.”
Lance turned, slowly because all those iced teas left his vision fuzzy, before letting his sights settle on Hunk. He sat next to Lance at the bar, also cozied up beside Shay, and, really, Lance was starting to detest bachelorhood.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance murmured. He took a long swig of his drink, a martini this time because the Long Island iced teas here didn’t come with little umbrellas, but he needed something to tide his drunken self over if he was to be surrounded by love and affection not reserved for him.
Hunk rolled his eyes, and Shay giggled sweetly beside him. Lance, regrettably, grew even more jealous at that.
“I mean, maybe it’d be for the best if you weren’t so obvious with your ogling,” Hunk said.
Lance took another sip - more then he probably should have, to be honest, but the drink was already settling hot in his stomach at the thought.
“There’s nothing wrong with admiring them a bit,” Lance argued, though his words lost some of their sting from the slur he couldn’t keep swallowed down. “Practically half the people here are, anyway.”
“Yes, but they’ve never been turned down by them before.”
Lance chugged the rest of his drink. “You really don’t have to remind me.”
Hunk smiled apologetically, handsome and nice, as always. “I’m just saying. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“I won’t,” Lance announced, and suddenly the room was skittering around him, and he was up on his feet, hovering over Hunk with a precarious tilt of his wibbling legs. “I won’t because I’m gonna go over there and invite them to dance with me, and they’re not going to say no.”
Lance scrounged up as much inane courage as he could manage, ablaze with his well of oil-lit liquor, all for the sake of ignoring Hunk’s surprised grunt and his own mind’s blaring warning.
Because he remembered the past with a vivid accuracy. He remembered being so enamored with Keith and Shiro, handsome individually and absolutely breathtaking together. He certainly remembered finally gathering up enough shards of courage to ask them out - to be one amongst them.
And, with the prettiest damn smile Lance had ever seen, Shiro had given him a honey-soaked rejection, while Keith stood behind him, eyes sad and sorry.
Lance remembered all of that, terribly clear and harsh. It was difficult not to, when the wound still rubbed him raw, but, somehow, that didn’t matter so much after all that booze.
So, he now found himself standing near Keith and Shiro’s cozy little huddle, overtaken by stupidity and want at the sight of their gorgeously cut faces looking up at him curiously.
Lance swallowed and tasted gin.
“Would you two -“ His voice cut off, and Lance swallowed down further slick gin before speaking again. “Would you like to dance with me?”
Even drunk and swimming with confusion, Lance knew deep down that he was making a horrible decision. Sure, Keith and Shiro were plenty kind and tolerable of Lance’s antics, still his friends despite the crash and blaze of his awkward, failed attempt at a relationship, but kindness could only go so far when someone couldn’t hide the crush that should’ve been long dead by now.
So, realistically, Lance expected to be outright rejected and left to wallow with Hunk and Shay before heading home and wondering when his next soul-consuming crush would come to fruition.
Except, Shiro just smiled and said, “Sure, why not?” while Keith shrugged, gracing Lance with his own cute smirk.
Then, Lance was being swept up by Shiro’s big, broad arms and Keith’s long, wandering fingers, and that was that. They sandwiched him easily, warm and oh-so big against him.
Lance could hardly breathe, and his heart resided somewhere beyond him from how hard it beat. He was surely going to die at this rate. Perhaps he already had.
And yet, Lance remained alive and well enough to feel the brush of Shiro’s hand splayed against his side, spread wide and tight around Lance’s waist as if Lance’s physical form amounted to nothing. The slide of Keith’s hips filled Lance next, rough and insistent. With that, Lance decided that, never mind, he must be dead because this was heavenly.
Against any rational thought, his hands wandered up over Keith’s shoulders until the back of his knuckles brushed against the leftover pieces of Keith’s hair. It was soft, even past the sweat. So soft that Lance wanted to feel more of it, wanted to run his fingers through the long strands over to the base of Keith’s neck to pull him in even closer.
Lance’s fingers twitched, at the ready and eager. Then, his mind slowly creeped back into a modicum of sense.
No. Doing something like this was, undoubtedly and irrefutably, bad.
So, Lance stopped.
Except, before he could draw his hands away, Keith pulled him right in. Their bodies pressed closer together at the hip, and Shiro pressed harder, too, his hands now roaming up to the edges of Lance’s chest.
Perhaps, Lance could maybe get away with a few touches of his own.
“You’ve gotten better at dancing,” Lance slurred. Keith’s hips rolled into his own once more, deliciously so. “You used to be horrible at anything more complicated than a side shuffle.”
“Shiro’s been helping me learn a few new moves.”
“I didn’t know Shiro was such a good dancer.” Lance felt Shiro’s hands sneak across his sides over to his abdomen. He pushed back in turn and was met with a playful squeeze to his hip.
Lance turned his head and saw Shiro behind him, white bangs wet with a sheen of sweat that made his cheekbones pop. “When did you become such a good dancer?”
“I’m just following your lead. I suspect that we both are,” Shiro answered lightly.
And damn him. He was being humble like always. Lance’s heart fluttered dangerously at that.
“Does that mean that I’m a good dancer, then?” Lance asked.
Keith’s leg bumped into his, and Lance felt heat. “Oh, yeah. You’re great at this. Real smooth and pretty.”
It appeared that Keith, too, was determined to kill Lance with kindness. Somehow, Lance didn’t mind too much.
After that, Lance remembered little beyond warmth, friction, and the blessed feeling of someone’s - two someone’s’ - body flush against his own. His mind swam the whole time, and his vision tilted. Eventually, he grew too clumsy and sleepy to pretend to dance properly, prompting Keith and Shiro to haul him off the dance floor, over to where Hunk and Shay were still sitting, watching.
“Do you mind if we take Lance back to his apartment?” Lance heard Shiro ask.
He nodded even though the question wasn’t directed towards him. Even so, he watched tiredly as Hunk agreed, and they were gone.
The car ride blurred as strong, corded arms wrapped around him, and Lance found himself in his living room upon the next blink.
“You really drank a lot, huh?” Keith asked. His voice sounded exasperated, but his expression looked fond.
Strange, but not unwelcome.
Lance nodded, and it was dumb.
Regardless, Shiro chuckled. “I feel like we should stay with you for the night, just in case.”
Lance nodded again because how could he say no? And, instead of saying no, he blurted out, “You know, it’s almost like you two are acting like my doting boyfriends.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” Lance replied. To who, he wasn’t sure. To both, he supposed. “And, like, I really like it, you know?”
“Yeah?”
“For sure.” Lance moved to stand up, but sturdy hands held him down, too nice to argue against. “I want to do this all the time. I really, really do want to date you two.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s not as if I didn’t tell you guys that before. You’re the ones who rejected me, remember?” Lance huffed.
“But you’re still interested in us even after that?”
“Of course! How could I not be, when you two are so handsome and nice and pretty together? I think I’ll always be a little in love with you two,” Lance admitted with a puff on the proverbial windowpane, big and spreading.
“So, what does that mean now?”
Lance paused, and his brain churned around the question like butter. What did that mean?
Nothing. It should’ve meant nothing because they had already rejected Lance years ago, happy with just each other. There was no clearly space leftover for Lance.
Too bad Lance’s alcohol-addled mind couldn’t remember that much.
“It means,” Lance began with as much vigor as his clumsy tongue could manage, “that I’m gonna woo you guys.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yes! I’m gonna convince you two to give me another chance. Or, I’ll just hang out with you guys a bit to see if you change your minds.” He hiccuped, and a hand dipped down his back to soothe him. “And, even if nothing comes out of it, at least I’ll be able to hang out with you guys again, the way we used to before all that.”
Another hand fell upon his head. Lance leaned into it and felt callouses.
“Alright.”
It was such a simple response to Lance’s drunken tirade, but the simplicity helped him doze off shortly afterwards to warm and soft planes around him.
When he awoke, not even Lance’s headache, comprised and hot needles prickling against his synapses, was enough to distract him from what he had done the previous night.
Keith and Shiro were long gone, but the still somewhat warm breakfast they had left behind seemed promising. Maybe. Regardless, embarrassment crept into the spaces in-between his pulses of hangover headache, and Hunk didn’t make it much better.
“Lance,” Hunk sighed over the phone, big and resigned with a dash of loving pity, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Yeah, well, it’s happening now.”
“But it doesn’t need to.”
“But it is.”
Hunk sighed again. “Come on Lance, you’re just gonna get hurt again.”
“I’ve been hurting ever since they rejected me at graduation,” Lance said, and he just knew Hunk was rolling his eyes right then. “Maybe another rejection will finally help me move on.”
“Or maybe you’ll come crying to me again with a dozen gourmet cupcakes.”
“That’s not so bad, is it? We had plenty of fun last time.”
Another sigh. Hunk was going to sigh himself into hypoxia at this rate. “Fine. I know I can’t stop you.”
“Thanks, Hunk. You’re a real pal.”
“I know.”
Still, despite all that, Lance was convinced that Keith and Shiro had just been humoring him that night. Often, going along with the whims of a drunkard proved to be a much easier task than trying to talk sense. So, Lance expected little more than a few apologetic smiles and a conciliatory group hangout before being sent away to stay lonesome and wanting.
He was wrong.
He ran across Keith a few days later at one of the local cafès they both frequented. Keith looked as handsome as ever, all lean lines and enticing smirks as he tilted his head at Lance, strangely expectant. Of course, that meant that Lance only had a ragged, half-sick visage to give back, but Keith didn’t look deterred by it in the slightest.
“So,” Keith said, cappuccino in his hand with the nice, long fingers, “when’s our date?”
Lance almost sneeze-coughed right in Keith’s attractive face from the shock.
“What?” Lance asked - very eloquently, of course. The other customers didn’t look particularly impressed, though.
“Didn’t you say you’d take me and Shiro out on some dates to try to win us over?” Keith asked, and the grin creeping across his face was just unfair.
“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t think… you’d actually be interested?” It came out like a question. Lance supposed that was only fitting, all things considered, when he struggled to make sense of this all.
“Why not? We’ve been wanting to hangout with you for awhile now. Shiro, especially, has missed you.”
Lance tried to swallow, but it was impossible past the grating lump in his throat. He couldn’t tell if that was the lovesickness or just his sore throat acting up.
Probably both.
“Oh,” he said softly to hide the tremble and cough of his voice. “If that’s the case, then yeah, we can do something soon.”
Keith’s grin turned sharp. “So, you’ll go out for Shiro’s sake but not mine?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
A young man on his laptop turned to give Lance a dirty look at his exclamation. Lance went through great pains to resist returning the gesture.
All Keith did in response was laugh. “I’m glad. How does this Saturday sound to you?”
“Sounds good to me,” Lance replied softy. He could do nothing else, honestly, when he was so excited and simultaneously stricken with a croak.
“Perfect. We’ll leave the plans up to you, then.”
Then, Keith was gone, and Lance’s drink was already paid for, courtesy of that damn pretty mullet man.
And, finally, Lance could sneeze in peace.
By the time Saturday rolled around, he still sounded like someone living on their last ounce of lung capacity, and he felt it, too. Nonetheless, he had a date set up - a nice night drunk painting because, to be frank, Lance wanted a bit of liquid courage helping him along if the universe truly expected him to go through with this. Never mind the fact that cold medicine typically didn’t mix well with wine; he had already made up his mind to keep the drinking to a minimum after his previous fiasco.
He breathed in deep, psyched himself up for a night full of woeful pining, and stepped inside to find Shiro waiting for him - alone.
“Hey!” Shiro exclaimed, rising from his seat to meet Lance. “Keith’s still coming, but he’s just going to be a little late.”
“That’s fine,” Lance croaked.
Shiro frowned. “Are you alright?”
“Just a little sick. It’s no big deal.”
“That doesn’t sound like no big deal.”
“I feel fine, and I just took some medicine for it.”
“Lance, you don’t have to push yourself to do stuff with us if you’re not feeling well,” Shiro said, and even the little furrow of his brow was a treat to witness.
As such, Lance definitely wanted to see more iterations of Shiro’s perfectly-sculpted face. A date cancellation was out of the question.
Out of the question for Lance, at least. Shiro was as stubborn as ever, though.
“I really think you should go and rest,” Shiro said with his most reasonable and soothing voice.
In turn, Lance whined. “I’m fine. I promise!”
“Lance.”
“I don’t want to cancel, though,” Lance said. He could feel his defeat creeping up like his niece getting ready to snatch away his food, but he readied himself to go down fighting, like always. “I was really looking forward to this, you know.”
At his words, Shiro smiled, and he looked even more unbearably wonderful like that. “I know. Look, if you still want to do stuff with me and Keith, how about you just hangout and watch a movie with us at our place? That way, it’ll be easy for you to lay down and rest if you need to.”
Never before had Lance heard more dangerous words. Well, besides that one time his cousin dared him to drink nail polish remover, but that was beside the point. The point now was sharp and speared onto the fact that it would be most prudent for Lance to say no because being surrounded by the walls that were Shiro’s and Keith’s was dangerous.
Not to mention painful.
With that in mind, the rational, not fever-added part of Lance’s mind implored him to say no, to decline and head home to forget this whole thing.
It’d hurt less that way.
But Shiro was just asking so nicely with that gorgeous smile on his face. Lance didn’t have the strength to refuse it.
So, he agreed with a smile and skip to his step that nearly sent his wearied muscles careening onto the nicely waxed floors. Fortunately, Shiro caught him with relative ease. Unfortunately, Shiro’s arms felt like bliss, stuffed to the brim with plush down and muscles bundled up by the highest thread count imaginable. Lance wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in them forever.
Except, that wasn’t an option.Lance righted himself with a sheepish smile and a half-swallowed cough before following Shiro out to his car.
“I told Keith to just meet us there,” Shiro said. “Is that alright?”
“Fine by me.”
Though, the sight of Keith lounging in his apartment in a loose tank top and low-slung sweatpants was not fine.
“Hey,” Keith greeted, enviably casual. “You should’ve told us that you weren’t feeling well. We wouldn’t have minded.”
“But I would have,” Lance argued.
Keith smiled, and he shrugged. The slow roll of Keith’s shoulders, layered with a fine layer of muscle, proved to be difficult to take in without swooning. “Yeah, you’ve always been like that, huh?”
Lance wasn’t sure what Keith meant by that, but it didn’t matter much anymore when he was suddenly being coaxed onto the couch, fully equipped with pillows galore and the softest blanket Lance had ever been burritoed inside of. He had a hunk of man sitting next to him on each side, and he could hardly pay attention to the movie past the gentle press of warm flesh against him.
He remembered heat and feeling others’ breaths synced up to his own. He didn’t remember falling asleep, or being carried off to bed, but he still woke in a bed not his own, disoriented but slightly less stuffy.
“You guys are so nice - too nice to me. I think you guys should stop that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ll get my hopes up.”
Lance groaned to himself. Even in someone else’s bed, that same dream replayed in his mind. He couldn’t recall the final rejection happening last night, but it always played in his dreams like a bad omen. This, somehow, felt even more inauspicious.
Either way, he needed to leave.
He psyched himself up with a quick pep talk before hesitantly hopping out of bed. He padded forward into the kitchen and found Keith and Shiro there, cooking.
“Look who’s awake,” Keith said. His hair looked like even more of a mess than usual, but Lance quite enjoyed it like that.
“How are you feeling?” Shiro asked, aproned up like a cliche dream.
Lance could have cried at the scene before him. He didn’t, thankfully. “I’m feeling pretty ok, thanks. Sorry for… falling asleep and taking over your bed like that.”
“It’s fine. You looked like you needed it,” Keith said.
“I’m just glad you’re feeling alright,” Shiro added, and then there was a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Lance, syrupy and delicious.
Lance savored every slow bite of food. It wasn’t bound to last long, after all. Nevertheless, it tasted delicious, and having Shiro and Keith there with him made it all the sweeter.
“Sorry I ruined the whole night,” Lance said quietly, pancake stuck to the side of his teeth. It gummed his mouth up quite obnoxiously, but Shiro just smiled with those kind eyes of him, circled by light laugh lines that Lance sometimes counted to help him sleep. “I thought I’d be much better by now.”
”What do you mean? I don’t feel like it was ruined at all. Just being able to spend time with you was more than nice enough,” Shiro said.
“But I didn’t even watch the movie. I fell asleep.”
“You were still with us, though,” Keith countered. “Besides, you had plenty to say before you fell asleep.”
“Oh, please tell me it wasn’t anything to embarrassing. I can’t really remember much of what happened after I got here,” Lance admitted with a groan.
Keith’s smile loomed enigmatic. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t anything bad.”
That answer didn’t exactly comfort Lance, but the thought of asking for more information comforted him even less. So, he chewed on the rest of his food with a smile before swallowing down his shameful curiosity down along with it.
“Anyway, how are you guys feeling? After having to sleep somewhere else because a certain someone was hogging your bed?” Lance asked.
“We’re fine,” Keith replied. “We have the futon, so it’s not like we were sleeping on the floor while you dozed off on the only comfortable surface in our apartment.”
“If you had a futon, you should’ve let me sleep on it,” Lance said.
“But you were the one who was sick,” Keith argued.
“Yeah, but this isn’t my place.”
“But you were the one who was sick.” And that was Shiro this time. His tone rang firm, but his lips flicked upwards. “Do you really think we’re the type to make a sick person sleep on a futon when we have a perfectly good bed here?”
“No, I guess not.” Lance speared another piece of pancake onto his fork before plopping it into his mouth with a pout. “Still, I’m sorry about that.”
“Stop apologizing for something you don’t need to be sorry for,” Shiro said.
“It’s not a good look. That sad scowl of yours is ruining your typical charm,” Keith cut in.
“Yeah, well, me being a mess like this probably isn’t a good look in general,” Lance grumbled.
“What do you mean?” Shiro asked. “I think you look great.”
Suddenly, the pancakes didn’t go down so easily.
To be honest, Lance quite enjoyed being complimented. He always welcomed a nice boost to his ego. Or, he almost always did. Somehow, when either Keith or Shiro complimented him, the kind words didn’t feel so nice rolling over him.
Because he always got his hopes up afterwards.
He left shortly afterwards. His sinuses felt clearer, but his mind fumbled. All he could do when he got back to his own apartment was sleep once more in his own sheets that didn’t smell at all like Keith or Shiro.
The dream returned with a vengeance. This time, the ending was clear.
Lance was a fool.
Classifying their next get-together as a proper date would’ve been a pretty harsh insult. Gym sessions didn’t count as dates, after all. Lance’s mom would give him hell for even thinking as much because people who were worth his love were also worth proper wooing with all the bells and whistles he could afford.
And Lance agreed. Thus, the gym date idea definitely did not come from him.
In fact, Shiro was the one who had tentatively offered it up with as much bashfulness as a real-life Hercules could muster.
“Keith and I haven’t been to the gym together in awhile, and you always talk about how you’d like to go more often, so I thought I’d invite you along, too,” Shiro had explained over lunch. Even while idle, the muscles of Shiro’s arm made themselves known with divets that Lance so desperately wanted to run his fingers through. In other words, Shiro’s impressive physique proved to be quite the distraction.
So, Lance agreed without a second thought. The chance to witness more of Shiro’s musculature, in addition to Keith’s, beckoned to him like those sirens of old - with every ounce of beautiful sincerity such a terrible, terrible creature possessed.
And, as expected, Lance drowned in it.
To be honest, a small part of him truly did want to actually focus on working out; compared to Keith and Shiro, Lance’s slim frame wasn’t exactly impressive. If he wanted to even pretend like he could keep up, he figured that gaining some bulk would help.
Except, it was impossible to focus on his form like this.
Both Keith and Shiro stood before him. To the right, Keith steadied his dumbbell, preparing for a few overhead triceps dips. To the left, Shiro slowly sank down into a stunning squat, barbell and weights rested precariously on his shoulders.
Lance stood by as their spotter, and he just prayed that his drooling wasn’t too obvious.
“Sorry for the trouble, but I really appreciate you helping me,” Shiro huffed during his next break. He glistened with sweat, and he looked good. Lance was sure he couldn’t say the same for himself. Then again, he didn’t look like Shiro.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Lance breezed, even though it kinda was. Even the light brush of his fingertips against Shiro’s body, hard and work and veins popping, spelled trouble. The words flashed bold and bright before Lance’s eyes, but Shiro looked even better.
His ass looked especially nice. Lance admired it. Then, he lamented because some things were just too nice - like Shiro’s ass.
“I’ll help you out next,” Shiro offered afterwards.
Lance blinked stars out of his eyes before responding. “Yeah, that’ll be great after I help spot Keith.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to hurt myself much working out my triceps, but it’s still up to you to decide whether or not you want to watch me,” Keith said.
“Better safe than sorry.”
“I never took you for a mother hen type,” Keith said.
Lance scoffed. “I only am compared to you.”
Keith rolled his eyes. Then, he rolled his shoulders and set to work. He wore a tank top today, too, so Lance could clearly see the ripple of muscles as Keith worked out. Keith’s back may not have been as broad as Shiro’s, but each push and shove of muscle mesmerized Lance nonetheless.
“You doing a good job over there spotting me in case I accidentally drop these weights behind me where it can’t hit anyone?” Keith teased. He turned his head to the side as he spoke, and even his sweaty profile looked attractive.
“Yeah, it’s great. I’m doing great,” Lance breathed absentmindedly.
“Good.”
When all was said and done, both Keith and Shiro were sweaty messes - the epitome of those men who worked out religiously for the sake of being physically superior to others - infuriatingly handsome. At least, they appeared that way at face value. In reality, they were sinfully sweet and amicable.
And that, Lance decided, was terribly unfair. A trick delivered unto him from the heavens to mock his inability to hide from enamoration and adoration. Their helpful encouragement only made things worse.
“You got this, Lance,” Shiro said, hands hovered under the weights Lance was trying to bench. His arms shook, and Lance really shouldn’t have put on so much weight just for show.
“Just a bit more,” Keith added, also hovering nearby.
“Guys, I don’t know. I really think I overestimated myself,” Lance grit out through clenched teeth. Not even two beautiful men were worth dying at the gym.
“Give it another thirty seconds. If you can’t after that, then you can lighten the load,” Keith said.
If he had the available breath for it, Lance would’ve sighed. He was on his last strip of oxygen, however, so he grinned and beared it like an adult whose two great crushes were currently leaning over.
In the end, Lance couldn’t bench press the ridiculous amount of weight he had piled onto the bar. After the thirty seconds passed, Shiro readily relieved him to barbell, no sweats broken all the while, and Keith stayed behind to comfort Lance.
“It’s alright. We’ll help you work up to it,” Keith said.
“Yeah, right. I wonder if you’ll still be saying that months later when I still haven’t gotten nearly strong enough to bench that much.”
From the corner of Lance’s eye, Shiro and his bulging biceps shrugged. “We have time. And a gym membership.”
Lance nodded stupidly. It appeared to be time for him to start considering getting his own membership here, instead of just mooching off of Keith and Shiro’s guest pass because, somehow, their not-a-real-date gym date had fared surprisingly well.
And then, Lance happened to overhear a few things.
For all of the potential hidden talents to be blessed with, Lance had received a hot kiss from the universe filled some great eavesdropping skills. Though, him being hidden behind a bathroom stall arguably helped. Still, his shoes peeked through under the open bottom of the stall, so Lance considered himself basically within plain sight as Keith and Shiro walked in, murmuring to themselves.
“Having Lance join us wasn’t a bad idea at all,” Keith said, and Lance momentarily preened. Keith was difficult to please, most of the time, and even less apt to admit when he was.
“He was plenty eager to help spot us, that’s for sure,” Shiro hummed.
Water ran. It sounded loud within the squeaky clean walls. Hopefully, Shiro and Keith couldn’t hear Lance mind’s racing over the tap.
Keith snorted, and the water stopped. “He was eager, alright. The poor guy couldn’t stop staring at your ass during your squats, you tease. And here I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”
Lance’s throat clenched. He preened no longer.
Shiro chuckled in response. “Please, as if your tricep workout wasn’t just a ploy to show off your recent trap definition.”
“Hey, I worked hard to get my back looking that nice. I figure there’s no harm in showing off to someone who I know will appreciate my efforts.”
“I’m always here to admire you and your wonderful trapezius muscles, you know.”
“But you’ve seen them too much already. It’s not the same with you. You know how obvious Lance gets, sometimes.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. At least he’s a sweet guy.”
“Sweet on you, that is,” Keith said.
“And you too. Can’t blame him, though. You are a treat to watch.”
“Right back at you, big guy, but I’m afraid he would’ve gotten an aneurysm if he had watched you any longer.”
“I guess sometimes you can’t kill a crush even with a rejection.”
“I guess so.”
They spoke for a bit longer about this and that, things that Lance had no mind to pay attention to because his focus now consisted finding Hunk’s number without making too much of a fuss before Keith and Shiro left.
When they finally did, Lance’s phone rang twice before Hunk picked up.
“Hey, what’s up?” Hunk greeted, so happy, carefree, and secure in his own loving relationship.
Lance, apparently, had no reason to say the same for himself.
“Are you busy tonight?” Lance asked. His voice only trembled a touch. For that, he let himself take pride.
Except, Hunk noticed regardless. “No. What’s wrong?”
“I’m bringing over cupcakes,” Lance declared instead of explaining.
Then, later that night, Lance explained everything to Hunk with frosting in-between his teeth. The saccharine remnants stuck without offering any true solace, but at least they tasted good, Lance told himself.
And all Hunk really said in return was, “I told you so,” using various words and inflections. Sympathy served as his main tool, but Lance didn’t miss the hint of exasperation that Hunk just could not hide.
“Yeah, I get it now,” Lance sighed around his penultimate muffin. “They were just humoring me to be nice and to have a little fun before they turned me down again, and it’s my fault for getting my hopes up and putting them in that position in the first place.”
Hunk frowned as he peeled away the wrapper from his own cupcake. “I didn’t say it was your fault.”
“You didn’t have to,” Lance grumbled.
Hunk sighed. “Look, I don’t think it’s your fault for liking them. You can’t always control these kinds of things. But, I do think you have to go and end this once and for all for all our sakes. It’s better that way.”
“I know,” Lance whispered. Only his last cupcake remained now. It looked delicious, just like the others had been, but he suddenly didn’t have much of an appetite for the cloying sweetness it provided. “I know.”
Hunk laid a big, warm hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance leaned into it without a thought, comforted by the familiarity that was so distinctly Hunk. “It’ll be alright. Promise,” Hunk whispered.
Lance let himself believe it.
He found it a bit more difficult to hold onto such faith a few days later when Keith all but demanded that Lance go and speak to him and Shiro because, “You’ve clearly been avoiding us. We want to know why, and you won’t tell us unless we force it out of you, so come meet us later or else we’re telling Hunk that it was actually you who had destroyed part of his thesis project back in the day.”
And that sucked. Lance never before had pinned Keith as the type to use such blatant blackmail to get his way. It certainly worked, though, seeing as Lance was now standing in front of the small café Keith had chosen as their meeting place.
Lance walked in hesitantly. Hunk’s words replayed in his mind so quickly that the words stumbled all over each other, but that still couldn’t distract him from the overwhelming anxiety creeping through him at the sight of Shiro and Keith waiting for him.
They smiled at him. Their expressions weren’t unkind, but they were unreadable to Lance. That just made it worse.
Shiro stood to greet him, but Lance’s brain rattled too hard for him to accept the mini-hug. Slowly, with a small frown that absolutely destroyed Lance, Shiro sat back down. “Lance, I’m glad you could join us.”
“I mean, if I didn’t, Keith was gonna go ahead to reveal the dirt he has on me,” Lance said as he also sat down.
Keith wrinkled his nose. “It was the only way to get you here.”
“How do you know that?” Lance demanded. “You didn’t even try to ask me normally.”
“I know you,” Keith replied, as if that meant anything.
“Oh, come on -“
“Cut it out, you two.”
Immediately, like a puppy in training afraid of a scolding, Lance stopped. Even as anxious and caged as he felt, Lance could do nothing but obey when Shiro sounded like that - all smooth, rich tones that Lance still dreamed about to this day.
“We’re here to have a civil conversation and some nice food,” Shiro continued. He gave Keith a disappointed look for emphasis. Keith returned it with a scowl. Shiro shook his head before turning his attention back to Lance. “Go ahead, order whatever you’d like. It’s on me.”
“Oh, umm, I’m not really hungry,” Lance said because it was the absolute truth; working up an appetite proved to be a difficult task when he brimmed with nerves. “But thanks for the offer.”
“Then just get a cupcake or something,” Keith said. “You love cupcakes.”
Lance’s breath caught somewhere deep. “Yeah, I guess I do. I’ll get a vanilla one, then.”
“A vanilla cupcake it is,” Shiro hummed. “But are you sure you don’t want something to go? I really don’t mind.”
“I’m fine. Promise.”
Shiro nodded, and the waitress arrived. Lance was grateful for her presence and felt positively bereft upon her departure. Being left alone with two beautiful men inspecting him curiously was far too daunting for him.
“So,” Keith began. Of course it’d be Keith. He never was one for subtlety or patience. “You mind telling us why you’ve been avoiding us recently?”
Lance shrugged. He suddenly felt very hot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve just been busy recently with some new projects at work, is all.”
Keith narrowed his eyes. “Bullshit. You’re a terrible liar, and you know that.”
“Keith!” Shiro admonished. He sent another glare Keith’s way, but Keith remained unfazed. Lance envied him. Then, Shiro turned with a smile splitting across his face once more, welcoming and impressively nonjudgmental. “Please, Lance, we just want to know so we can fix whatever we might have done.”
Lance held back a sigh. He sat facing the other two, table still devoid of any food. His stomach continued to churn at the impending doom of The Conversation, but having a mouth full of cupcake would have at least bought him some time to formulate a fantastic elaborate escape plan after the deed was done.
Except, Lance was an adult. It was probably time to start acting like one.
“Look, I’ve just been taking the time to think of how to properly apologize to you guys,” Lance finally admitted. The words stumbled up his mouth awkwardly, and now he really craved that cupcake. Perhaps the leftover crumbs would give his words something to latch onto for comfort before the leap.
Shiro’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. He still looked unfairly good, Lance thought. “What do you mean?” Shiro asked.
“I mean… I don’t know. I guess I just want to apologize for making you guys play along with me these past few weeks.”
“What?” Keith deadpanned. He didn’t look exactly as handsome as Shiro did when befuddled, but something about the little indent at the side of his frown proved to be impossible to ignore.
“Well, I know it’s taken me way too long to realize that my crush on you guys is all my problem and shouldn’t be yours, but you guys know me. I’m a sucker for romance, not to mention super needy, but, like, that’s no excuse for me to go around bombarding you with the same old confession over and over again even after you’ve turned me down. So, I’m sorry. For making you humor me just to go through the pains of rejecting me again.”
Well, there it was.
Lance spoke so quickly he could barely breathe, and he grieved for the well-rehearsed, extremely graceful and gracious apology Hunk had coached him through because this was a dumpster fire of a mess he was spewing all over this nice little establishment.
Still, he felt mostly relieved. Once he started speaking, the rest of his rant rushed out of him like a good puking session after a horrible night out; that nasty burn in the back of his throat yet lingered, but at least the pulsing nausea had left him.
On the other hand, Keith fixed Lance with affronted eyes, narrowed and steely from the grey. Even Shiro looked taken aback.
Lance, in turn, grew worried. Maybe he needed one more hurl to settle this.
However, before he could apologize further, Keith threw his pretty little head back with a snort. “God, I forgot how oblivious you could be sometimes. Remind me again how I started liking someone as clueless as you.”
“What?” Lance echoed dumbly.
At the same time, Shiro uttered another pointed, “Keith!” It sounded less upset and more resigned this time, but maybe Lance just imagined that. It was hard to properly hear anything going on around him when his blood and guts pounded against his delicate ears, it seemed.
Shiro sighed. It sounded long-suffering, quite pitiful, but very nice nonetheless. “Lance, let me ask you this first: what made you think that we’ve rejected you again?”
Lance blinked. His cupcake appeared before him, set down carefully by their curious, but polite waitress. He reached for it absentmindedly and waited for that first swipe of icing to melt under his tongue before responding.
“Well, to be honest, I accidentally overheard you guys talking about me in the gym bathroom.” Lance poked at his cupcake. It really was delicious, but the sweetness almost felt mocking. “About how embarrassing it was to watch me crushing on you so hard.”
Keith’s brows furrowed, and Shiro’s frown deepened.
Hastily, Lance continued. “But I’m not super offended, so you don’t have to worry about that. I think I would probably feel the same way if some guy I had rejected before kept ogling me and my boyfriend. So, I get it.”
“No, you really don’t,” Keith muttered.
Lance’s teeth ached. The cupcake wasn’t so delicious anymore.
Shiro spoke next, quietly. “Lance, listen. We’re sorry if our conversation sounded harsh, but I swear that we weren’t trying to mock or judge -.”
“It’s fine,” Lance said shortly. “I already said it was fine.”
“Please don’t interrupt,” Shiro said. His voice smoothed into a command, and Lance’s mind implored him to obey. “We didn’t say all that to dismiss your feelings for us again because we haven’t been completely honest ourselves. Lance, do you know why we invited you to workout with us?”
“So you could help me gain some muscle so I could go and attract someone else and finally be out of you guys’ hair, I guess.”
“Guess again,” Keith said. “The truth is, we just wanted to show off in front of you. Didn’t we talk about how you watched us so diligently?”
“Well, yeah, but I figured you guys just found it funny,” Lance whispered.
“It wasn’t funny, not really. It was…” Keith trailed off.
“Incredibly flattering,” Shiro finished in his place, “and exactly what we wanted.”
Lance remained silent for a spell. Instead of responding, he licked his lips and tasted vanilla. “So… what are you guys actually saying right now? Explain it to me like I’m dumb.”
Keith leaned in to speak. His jaw looked sharper than Lance remembered, and it looked so, so good. “We’re saying that we’ve changed our minds over these past few years. We’re saying that we want to start dating you, too.”
“And our gym date was part of that plan,” Shiro added. “Though it didn’t quite go as we expected.”
Lance’s vision swam. Even without a single drop of alcohol, he saw stars in the fringes of his eyes. Keith and Shiro possessed a terrible power of him - they always had and always would, apparently.
Lance sucked in a trembling breath. “Does that mean we’re… dating now?”
“If you want to,” Shiro whispered.
“But you can always say no, if you want,” Keith breathed.
This time, Lance scoffed. “Now you’re mocking me. You guys know what answer I’m gonna give.”
“Won’t you say it anyway?”
Lance’s lips felt dry. He could hardly move them to speak, but he managed anyway with great force and determination because, damn, did Keith and Shiro deserve it. “Yeah. Yes. I want to. I want to date you guys.”
They smiled, painfully handsome and bright, and their joy laid bare all belonged to Lance.
And that was scary, but it was everything.
Lunch passed by like something akin to a date. Shiro paid despite Lance’s prosests, as he claimed he would, and Keith went ahead and held all the doors open for Lance like the young gentleman he sometimes acted as.
He even lingered back for a moment, kindly pointing out that, “Oh, Lance, you have a little something leftover on the corner of your mouth.”
Lance reached up to wipe it away.
However, instead of his fingertips, Lance felt the press of Keith’s chapped lips against his own, and, oh, the kiss was even better than he had ever imagined.
Lance melted into the kiss without a single qualm, even despite the scratch of Keith’s peeling lips against his own.
Then, all too soon, Keith pulled away with that signature smirk on his face, and Lance’s heart flopped. “There. You’re all set now.”
“Thanks,” Lance gusted, lightheaded. Vaguely, he registered Shiro approaching from the side.
“Don’t I get a farewell kiss, too?” Shiro asked playfully.
Too breathless to say more, Lance simply nodded. Shiro smiles, big and soft, before leaning down and laying his own kiss upon Lance’s mouth.
Apparently, Shiro was less afraid of a little tongue. Lance was grateful for it, and he missed and craved it after Shiro pulled away.
“Next time, we’ll go on a proper date,” Shiro said. “All three of us, yeah?”
Lance’s heart jumped again.“Yeah.”
But, first, Lance needed to share the good news.
He dialed, and his phone rang twice.
“Hey, Hunk? Are you busy tonight?”