Work Text:
Most days, if you asked Lance why he liked living in Blue Lane Apartments, he could give you a mile long list. The building itself is older and smaller than most newer buildings, and is placed just outside the bustle of town, but not so far in the outskirts that Lance feels unsafe at night.
It's the perfect distance for being able to walk to work, and only four blocks from his family home. There are less than forty-five residents, and most of them are over fifty, so the complex stays relatively peaceful. Plus, there's a huge back yard/recreational area for gardening and a playground for children.
The rent is reasonable, and all maintenance is paid for by the sweetest landlord Lance has ever met. But, Lance thinks the best thing about Blue Lane Apartments is the fact that all of his friends live there, too.
Hunk and his wife, Shay, live on the first floor. With Shay being blind, it's easier than having to navigate the stairs. She can't see him, but she always says “You're looking very handsome today, Lance!” when he passes by the patio on the way to work.
Matt and Adam live on the second floor, three doors down from the younger Holt sibling, Pidge. They're a sarcastic bunch, and he loves it. They share his passion for astronomy and that's led to more than one late night out on Matt's balcony with a telescope. He knows if he ever needs help with anything technological, the second floor is the place to go.
Lance himself lives on the third floor, two doors down from his best friend and his on-again-off-again boyfriend Lotor. Lance hates to admit it to anyone, so he doesn't, but he and Lotor are related. But, just because they're cousins, it doesn't mean they were ever close. Especially with the line of work Lotor's father is in.
Bad blood aside, Lotor is a decent human. I mean, as decent as you can be when raised by the Mafia. Lance digresses. The point is; he has friends on almost every floor. There's a fourth floor above him, but he's never needed to go upstairs, so he has no idea who lives there.
All in all, if you asked Lance if he likes these old, tiny apartments, he would undoubtedly say yes. Most days.
Today, though, Lance is ready to move out.
--
Lance woke with a groan, his head pounding sightly and mouth feeling dry. He definitely shouldn't have drank so much last night, who was he kidding. Partying was something young people did; he was twenty-four now. And, regardless of who shouted “that's not old!” at him, he still preferred reading at home or curling under a warm blanket by ten o’clock. Did that make him boring?
Yes.
Did he care that most people thought he was boring?
Also, unfortunately, yes.
He had taken the bait and rose to his friends taunting and gone out last night. He had no clue where to go, so he just ducked into one of the first clubs he had seen. The plan had been to have a few drinks, take one of the cocktail napkins with the location on it, plus maybe a few selfies of him “partying” to show Keith and Pidge before heading home.
Lance didn't count on the club being packed. Like, who the hell goes to a club on Wednesday? Don't they have jobs??
By the time he makes it to the bar, he's sweating and nervous and wants to bolt the hell out of there. The music is too loud, the lights are blinding, and, Jesus, why is everyone wearing so much glitter?! Lance gets the bar attendant's attention and orders a Blue Island Splash. The attendant had smirked, and Lance felt his cheeks flush.
Was he being judged right now? He was so ready to leave, regardless of what his friends thought. As he's about to push away from the bar, a very handsome man slides into the seat on his left. The man is well built, Lance is certain that body must be from God , and dressed in a white button down shirt and tight black pants. Lance slowly sits back down and bites his lip.
The man notices Lance immediately and smiles shyly. Lance's heart flutters because oh, he's a gentle giant. The older man runs a hand through his hair, pushing back his white fringe, and Lance suddenly wants to stay here all night if it means talking with this guy.
Laying in bed now, he recalls getting their drinks and talking for ages. Getting more drinks, dancing, another drink and…
With a gasp he springs up in the bed and turns to his left. The man, Shiro, is still asleep, back to Lance and head hidden under a pale blue pillow. The blanket has shifted during the night, so Shiro's naked, muscled back is on display.
“What have I done…” Lance breathes before gently pulling the sheet up over Shiro. He turns to slide out of bed, wincing at the pinch of pain in his lower back and pulsing headache. He finds his black boxer briefs in the pile of clothes at the end of the bed along with his cell phone, and starts out of the bedroom. He grabs his blue, silk robe off the chair beside the door and tugs it on before pulling the door closed behind him and padding into the chilled apartment.
Lance shivers as he pulls on his underwear and turns the thermostat up before unlocking his phone and going straight to his call log. He presses call on the first contact and tucks the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he rifles through the medicine cabinet in the kitchen for his bottle of Tylenol.
“C'mon, c'mon… pick up the phone…” he mumbles to himself. After a fifth ring, when Lance is afraid he's going to have to just try again later, the line connects.
“D’you know what time it is?” Keith's exhausted voice slurs over the line. Lance pulls the phone away from his cheek and makes a face when he sees that it's barely after seven on Thursdayday morning
“I do now, sorry.” Lance replies. He pops two pills out of the bubble packaging before reaching into another cupboard for a cup.
“Whazzamatter Lance?” Keith mumbles sleepily. Lance is pretty sure Keith is going to fall back asleep any moment, but he really needs advice right now.
“Look, I'm sorry you're tired, but I really need some help right now.” He pauses to swallow his pills. “I went to a club last night, and there was this guy, and we got drunk? And I brought him home and blew his brains out-” he drops his forehead against the counter, “and now I really don't know what to do?? I just. Keith, I've never done this before, how do I-?!” Lance makes a vague motion with his hand, even though he knows Keith can't see him, and whines in despair.
Sure, he knows he's being overdramatic and definitely a little whiny, but he honestly has no idea how to handle this situation. The last guy who slept in his bed (after a night of mind blowing sex) was his ex boyfriend of four years, and that was more than a year ago. It had ended amicably, and they were still friends, but Lance had never been the kind to just sleep around. It took more than a month of dating before he and James had even kissed ! Now, there was an admittedly very attractive man in his bed, and Lance had no idea how to be casual.
There's a pause on the other end of the line before Lance hears Keith's sharp inhale
“You-” he pauses, ”Don't touch anything. I'll be over in ten minutes.” Keith sounds very awake and stern before disconnecting the call. Lance frowns at the screen before setting his phone on the counter and moving to the coffee pot.
““Don't touch anything” he says. And I thought I was being overdramatic.” Lance grumbles to himself.
--
Twelve minutes later, Lance is debating whether or not he should make Shiro a cup off coffee as well. That would be the polite thing to do, right..? Lance frowns as he stirs his coffee.
Before he can even have his first sip, there's a banging on the door, and Lance curses.
“Fucking Keith!” He hisses as he sprints to the door and fumbles with the latches. He opens the door and Keith barrels past him, duffel bag in hand.
“Sorry I'm late, had to find a couple things. Where's the body?” Keith speaks over his shoulder as he drops the duffel in a kitchen chair and immediately begins pulling his hair into a ponytail.
“Keep your voice down, he's still in bed.” Lance hisses as he locks the door and follows Keith into the kitchen. Lance frowns when he sees Keith's latex covered hands.
“And the gun?” Keith asks before pulling out a plastic bag. Lance's eyes widen.
“The what? ” Lance cries. Keith turns with a frown.
“The murder weapon? Whatever it is you-”
“Wait, wait, I just-” Lance waves his hands in front him, "who said anything about murder??” Keith opens his mouth to respond when suddenly the bedroom door opens. Shiro is rubbing his eyes when he steps out of the door, clad only in grey boxer briefs, but pauses when he sees the two beside the dining table.
“Oh. Sorry, did I interrupt something?” Lance blinks before quickly shaking his head.
“No! Uh, this is Keith. He's my neighbor. He stopped by to drop off some uh,” he flicks his eyes to the black duffel bag and back to Shiro, “cleaning supplies. Before work.”
The room is silent for a moment before Shiro nods slowly.
“Right… Uh, do you mind if I use your shower?” Shiro motions at the bedroom door and Lance shakes his head once more.
“I don't mind! There are extra towels under the sink.” Shiro smiles and nods before turning back into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Keith immediately grabs his shoulder and turns them face to face.
“Why is he still alive?” He questions. Lance shoves Keith's hand off and steps back.
“Why shouldn't he be?! What is even happening right now?!” He hisses quietly. Keith rubs his temples, mouth drawn tight.
“You told me you “blew his brains out” and had no idea what to do now. What else am I supposed to think, Lance??”
“That I got drunk, brought a guy home, had mind blowing sex, and now have no idea what to do or say to him?! Why is murder the first thing you think of?!” Lance cries. Keith angrily pulls his gloves off and jams them back into the duffel bag with the plastic bag.
“Have you forgotten who my parents are, Lance?! My mother is a homicide investigator who majored in forensic science and my dad is from Texas; of course that's the first place my mind goes!” Keith shouts as he digs his phone out of his pocket and begins typing furiously.
“Do you even know how much trouble you've caused right now?” Keith grumbles. Lance gapes at the older man.
“Me? How much trouble I've caused?? You're the one-”
Keith's phone rings and he holds a finger up before answering the phone, pressing the speaker button, and continuing to type.
“Yeah?” Keith barks. Lotor's voice fills the room over the sound of a car engine.
“How big is the bloke? Maxim only has twink size barrels. Would we be able to fit him in if we dislocated all the joints, or would we need to disassemble him? Because that's a whole other-”
“Neither.” Keith cuts him off, “It was a misunderstanding; Lance meant “blew his mind”. The guy's still alive.” Lotor sighs exasperatedly.
“That idiot. Well, what do you want me do? I've already called Agris’ boys and Maxim is on the other line waiting for orders on an acid drum.” Keith sighs as well.
“Call and cancel the transport. Tell Maxim there was a misunderstanding. Thank them for their loyalty to your family. Offer to treat them to dinner as compensation for the trouble you've caused. Just, fix it somehow. I'm in the middle of cancelling fake passports and airline tickets.” Keith orders before hanging up the phone and tucking it into his pocket.
“Jesus Christ.” Lance breathes, still staring wide eyed at Keith who is now hefting his bag up and heading for the door.
“I'll message you later, I need to stop the Holts from deleting security camera footage. Don't forget tonight is your night to bring dessert to Hunk and Shay's.”
The door slams behind Keith and Lance's knees feel weak suddenly. He drops into the dining chair beside his small two person table and exhales slowly.
“You've got to be kidding me.” He whispers to himself. The headache that had been easing up before Keith stormed in was back full force. He's rubbing at his temples when a voice on his right startles him.
“Lance?”
The younger man jerks, nearly falling sideways off the chair as he whips around to face Shiro. The older man is fully dressed in last night's clothes, minus his socks and shoes, hair still damp.
“Shiro! Hi! Do you want some coffee?” Lance asks as he stands. Shiro smiles softly and nods.
“So uh, I know eavesdropping is frowned upon, but the walls here are pretty thin…” Shiro huffs a small, awkward laugh, as he rubs the back of his neck. Lance groans as he places the coffee carafe back on the heating plate.
“I'm so sorry. That was definitely not how I wanted the day to start. I hate my friends.” Shiro smiles sympathetically and steps into the kitchen as Lance repeatedly drops his forehead onto the countertop. He runs a hand up and down Lance's back soothingly.
“It's not that bad.” He assures.
“They thought I murdered you, Shiro.” Lance whines. Shiro grins, giving a little half shrug.
“Yeah, but they were all completely ready to help you, no questions asked. I don't know many people who would help me hide a body without some serious questioning.” Lance huffs a laugh before standing upright once more.
“Yeah... Yeah, you've got me there.” He smiles up at Shiro. The older man takes a sip of his coffee, right hand still resting on Lance's hip.
“So. You had mind blowing sex and you're not sure how to handle the morning after?” Shiro comments off-handedly. Lance squalks, cheeks turning pink. Shiro laughs as Lance playfully swats at him.
“You're terrible! Don't quote me!” Lance laughs a moment more before biting at his bottom lip.
“In all seriousness though… I really don't know how to handle this. Last night was…” he pauses, eyebrows raised, “wow. Last night was amazing. But I… I've never done this before. The casual sex, one night stand kind of thing. My last relationship ended a year and a half ago, but James was my only relationship. We were friends in high school and then decided to give it a shot in college. After graduation, we decided we wanted different things.” Lance purses his lips as he traces patterns on the tiles in front of him.
“After we broke it off, I wasn't sure how to,” he waves his hands in a vague all encompassing gesture, “you know. Initiate stuff? And dating took a backseat to the cafe, and I just-” Lance sighs again, eyes meeting Shiro's for the first time since he started talking, “I'm rambling, I'm sorry.”
But Shiro isn't upset, he's smiling. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind Lance's ear before cupping his cheek. Lance closes his eyes and leans into the warmth.
“You've never done casual before, and that's alright. If we're being honest here, I was really hoping for something more than casual.” Lance opens his eyes as Shiro continues.
“Last night was my first time back at a club since my divorce. I know I said that last night, but I didn't tell you it's been three years now. We were young and wild, and I thought we would last forever. But, what we want changes over time. My friends keep pushing me to go out and find someone; to get laid.” Shiro sighs.
“They don't understand that I don't want something just casual. I don't want to just bounce from one person to the next, I want someone who understands me, and who I can get to know well. I want a relationship, not a fling.”
Lance smiles brightly, cheeks pink, and nods.
“That's exactly how I feel.” He replies. Shiro's smile grows as he removed his hand and threads his fingers through Lance's.
“Then, let's start slow, with dinner? I know we got a head start last night, but.” Shiro shrugs. Lance laughs and nods, suddenly feeling giddy.
“Yeah. Yeah, dinner would be fantastic. But, not tonight. I've got a family thing tonight.” Lance hurriedly amends. Shiro nods.
“I heard.” Lance flushes.
“Right, paper thin walls.”
Shiro laughs before running a hand through Lance's hair and moving back to the dining table.
“As much as I hate to, I'm going to have to head out. I have to get home to feed the cat before she destroys the place.” Shiro jokes as he pulls on his socks. Lance coos as he puts the mugs into the sink to be washed later.
“I love cats! My parents have five. My sister's kids named them though, so they're all named after colors.”
Shiro chuckles on his way to the front entry. Lance follows after him, smile still firmly set. Shiro slides on his shoes before turning to smile at Lance once more.
“Text me when you get home?” Lance asks. Shiro huffs a small laugh before leaning in to press a soft kiss to the younger man's lips.
“Of course.”
Shiro opens the door, and Lance follows him to the door way. His smile drops when he sees Lotor coming up the stairs in his pajamas, hair pulled into a messy bun and sunglasses still firmly in place. Lotor pauses when he sees Shiro standing in front of the door and frowns before pulling down his sunshades. Shiro gives a friendly smile as he passes by the man and makes his way down stairs. Lotor hums.
“Definitely would have needed to disassemble him. He never would have fit in a twink size acid barrel.” Lotor comments as he pulls out his keys and moves to his shared apartment. Lance groans loudly before stepping back inside and slamming the door.
Yeah, some days he really wanted to move.