Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was evening and a welcome peace had spread through the workroom. It was almost quiet, except for the radio playing soft Latin music in the background. Lance hummed and rocked his body along with the familiar song, never taking his eyes off of his work.

He carefully dipped his brush into his paint, eyeing the amount. He brought it over to the brush and gently added a stem to a newly drying flower. He tracked the instrument down the dress, smiling with pride about how this piece was turning out.

Despite how much work each of these dresses were, he couldn’t help but loving the process of them and being able to create something thought to be lost to time.

Suddenly, a ding echoed through the workroom startling Lance out of his own mind. He placed paintbrush in the cup next to him and watched as the little slat in the wall roll up. A tiny robot shaped like a simplistic fighter jet zoomed through the room with a buzz. It had a note attached, which fluttered and waved behind it like a jaunty little flag.  It circled once through the room before heading to the string that served as Lance’s work line. Currently, there were no other work orders on it, but he knew that that was about to change.

The plane slowed down before coming to a complete stop in front of the string. It attached the note with a clip before zooming out of the room again and leaving him with more work.

Lance groaned and leaned forward nearly smacking his head against the freshly painted silk laid out in front of him. He caught himself before ruining hours of work and rubbed his hands over his tired eyes instead.

He had been stretched back and his muscles protested at the unfamiliar movement. He spent hours upon hours hunched over this desk, painting pain staking details onto fabric and he knew that eventually that it would bite him in the ass. That day was years away, though right now he just desperately wanted to go home.

Home was getting seemed to be getting further away and this new work order was not helping at all.

“Please don’t be something complicated and due tomorrow.” He muttered and stifled a sound of complaint as he got up from his chair.

He flipped up the magnifying glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose and creakily walked over to the line that the work order hung on. The little piece of paper fluttered as he came closer and he snatched it up. He squinted as he read the tiny typed words.

Request for Clothing - Order number #1000104639

Agent Names:

Takashi Shirogane (ID #455233)

Keith Kogane (ID #612498)

Request:

formal clothing for the 18th century- asian

Order Due:

November 11^th

Lance read the note again and tried to suppress the rush of frustration that ran through him. Formal clothes, formal clothes- that’s all he got? Really. Who the hell thought that he would be able to make an entire outfit on two words and a century of a time period. What the hell. When was he even supposed to design for? The early 18^th century? The late? Maybe sometime in the middle.

Lance growled and angrily ran his heads through his hair, nearly knocking the glasses off of his head. He looked around at the empty workroom and debated whether he should even attempt starting the project tonight.

He had already stayed late because he had wanted to finish the painted embroidery project. He had just been putting on the finishing details and really could pack up and leave if he wanted to. This order, though, threw a wrench in everything.

He could stay up and possibly try to decode what clothes he should be making, but he really didn’t want to- it would only frustrate him to no end and have him yelling at nothing.

He looked back down at the note and read the unfamiliar names again. Suddenly, an idea hit him and he ran over to the company computer that sat in the corner of the room.

He typed in the agents’ names and saw that they had actually commissioned pieces from him before. Based upon their clothes he could tell that the mostly Travelled to the 19^th and 18^th century in Asian countries.  It seemed like they did mostly stealth operations based upon the technology that the clothes employed: camouflaging threads and reflective fabrics that helped the eye skirt over them.

Lance could have groaned again, because the stealth clothing could be extremely varied based upon the goals on the mission. The agents could want to blend in to the background, or hide in plain sight, or even stand out from everyone else. These were all details that Lance needed to make the clothing

And all he had to go off of was “18^th century and Asian”

Angrily, he typed in one of the agent’s names and found his mostly empty profile in the Department’s directory. He found the little email icon that everyone had on their profile and began to type out a message.

To: Keith Kogane ([email protected])

Dear Mr. Kogane,

Earlier today, you sent me a clothing request that I unfortunately could not begin. Please be advised that details “18^th century” and “asian” are not sufficient for the creation of a major project that will be extremely detailed and definitely take hours of my time. 18^th century literally covers a hundred years of fashion and Asian could include a number of countries that each have different styles and cultural aspects.

I understand that you agents might not believe that us Time Tailors are as important as you, but please take some more time out of your schedule and give me a more detailed request.

Sincerely,

Lance McClain

Time Tailor for the Ensemble Division of the Time Travellers Police Department

Before he could rethink his actions, he hit send and turned away from the computer. He gathered up his stuff with a huff, and stomped out of the workroom, turning off the light behind him.

Lance grumbled as he walked through the halls of the Department Main Building, passing the Research Division and the Seeking unit. He glanced over to the rooms and saw late night agents pulling long hours over thick books. On the wall of one of the rooms, group of people was seeing in front of a projector that showed an international meeting.

Funny how the Department made time travel possible, but still had trouble with time zones.

The tailor chuckled to himself before boarding the multiway elevators. Honestly, they looked more like Ferris wheel carts, but were still called elevators because that’s what they had replaced years ago. They twisted through the large building and were able to deposit people almost anywhere at the push of a button.

Lance pushed the button for the in-house dorms and waited while the elevator gently lifted into the air, humming to life. It glided effortlessly to his destination, coming to a soft stop with a ding when it arrived. He got off exhaustion tugging at his eyelids and followed the numbered doors. Eventually, he came to a stop, pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed in.

He stopped to begin toeing his shoes off, carefully trying not to bump anything in the darkness because he didn’t want to wake-

“Hi, Lance!”

“Hey, idiot.”

He jerked his head up and whipped around to see both Hunk and Pidge grinning at him from the couch.

“Hey, what are you guys doing up?” he said, taking in the scene before him. Both of them were sprawled out in front of the TV in pyjamas. Hunk had a laptop propped on his lap and the screen lit up his face. Pidge was absently watching the television while eating what looked to be CocoPuffs in strawberry milk. Lance grimaced at the combination as he settled next to Pidge.

“We’re having a Star Wars marathon.” Pidge explained while eating her abomination.

Hunk rolled his eyes and began furiously typing. “You mean, Pidge is having a Star Wars marathon, while I’m trying to figure out this bit of coding.” He hit a couple of buttons and slammed his space key a couple times. “What’s got you out so late?”

Lance groaned and slid down the couch. His muscles ached and exhaustion tugged at his eyelids. “I stayed to finish that hand-painting project I’ve been working on for the last three weeks. But get this, right before I was about to leave another work-order came in and you wouldn’t believe the request.

“Oh,” Pidge teased, “Did someone ask for a 17^th century ball gown in two days again?”

 Lance groaned when he remembered that horrifying work order, that had been a complete disaster and they had had to have almost the whole department working around the clock on one freaking gown.

He knew that the agent got chewed out for putting in the order so late, though, so he hoped that he would never have to be in that situation again.

“No, it’s not that bad. They gave me enough time, but the description for the garment was literally two words: 18^th-century and Asian.”

Pidge laughed and Hunk groaned from behind his laptop.

“What do these people expect?” Pidge said through a giggle, “That you’re going to read their minds and ‘poof’” she twinkled her fingers, “a garment is going to appear.”

“I guess.” Lance groaned, blinking his eyes heavily. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall asleep on this couch. “That’s why I sent him an email.” He mumbled… maybe if he just took a quick nap.

“What!” Pidge screeched, causing him to jerk in his seat. “Lance you did what!”

“I sent him an email.” He snapped, desperately wanting to just be left to rest.

Pidge snorted and held out her hand. “Let me see,” she demanded.

Usually, Lance would protest more, and probably make some big show about not letting her have his phone. But this time, he just unlocked it and chucked it in her direction. She quickly navigated to the email screen and began to burst out in peals of laughter. She showed it to Hunk, who only shook his head and murmured “You’re funeral, Lance.”

“What’s so funny?” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at his two friends.

“Nothing,” Pidge chirped, “You’re just going to have one angry Time Agent on your hands in the morning. You know how pissy they get about their missions.”

Lance knew that he should care more about what she was saying, but he just couldn’t find it in himself. He was tired. It was late. And he was 100% done with being awake.

So, he pulled himself off of the couch, said goodnight to the two engineers and stumbled to bed.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

***

Lance woke up and blearily blinked the sleep from his eyes. He groaned as he got up, shaking the exhaustion that still clung to his limbs. Eventually, when he was finally feeling more alive again, he began his morning routine and got ready for work.

When he was ready, he joined Pidge and Hunk in the living and together they set off. Pidge and Hunk didn’t work in the same Tailor department that he did, though they were all in the Ensemble Division, they worked in the Technical Integrations department. Their department created cool inventions that could be stealthily worked into the clothing that Lance’s division fabricated. Together the divisions helped make sure the agents could easily blend into whatever time they were needed in but were still fully equipped.

They all reached the doors of the Ensemble department and once inside, Pidge and Hunk had to split away from Lance. He waved them goodbye, before heading over to his own department. He silently prayed that there wouldn’t be a headache waiting for him because he could already feel the beginnings of one.

Unfortunately, luck was never on his side.

At first, things were normal. A few other tailors were milling about the workroom or beginning to pull out the fabrics they would need for the day. A lot of them were standing in the corner gossiping, which was never a good sign because once the Time Tailors got a hold of a rumour it would inevitably spread through the entire TTPA like wildfire.

Lance quickly sped towards Nyma who was sketching at her workbench. She was a pretty girl originally from a couple hundred years in the future. The Time Tailors division had recruited her a couple months back and though, her and Lance weren’t the bestest of friends, she could always we counted on for reliable gossip.

“Hey Nyma, what’s going on?” He questioned getting right to business. The other girl didn’t even look up from where she was sketching.

“Some Agent hot-shot came into the shop waving a printed-out email around. At first, he was angry, but then the seamstresses starting ganging up on him and now I’m pretty sure he’s just blushing in the corner.” She paused and suddenly her neutral expression melted into a smirk.

“Now that I think about it… I’m pretty sure I remember him asking for a certain Lance McClain.”

Lance stared at her as he desperately searched for why an agent would come yelling for him. And then, he remembered the email he had written when he was sleep-deprived, exhausted and angry. He was frozen as cold realisation washed over him.

“Shit.” He whispered, and he turned to look at the corner the seamstresses were huddled around. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He kept saying, his voice growing faster and more panicked. A part of him desperately wanted to just run out of the room, but he knew he had to stay and face the music.

The poor guy, after all, was probably getting the worst of the seamstresses’ lecturing and he definitely deserved an answer to why he got such a passive aggressive email last night.

“Go get him, tiger.” Nyma smirked and she smacked his ass to prompt him along. He yelped, jolting forward and sending her a glare back.

She wasn’t even looking up from where she was sketching.

Like a man walking to the gallows, Lance began his trek towards the corner. His feet felt heavy, his mind kept telling him to turn around. He briefly considered stealing one of the time machines just so he could stop this from ever happening.

Before he could really flesh out his plan though, the seamstresses had caught sight of him and, suddenly, one was dragging him into the group by his arm.

“Lance!” She chirped, her voice was cheery, but her grip was like a vice. “I’m so glad you finally made it! We have this nice young agent here who has something that he’d like to say to you.”

Oh, fuck me, thought Lance as he was plopped down in front of the agent. Because of course, of fucking course, the agent was none other than then his crush for the entire last year and a half.

Who could blame him though, the boy was fucking beautiful with pale skin, midnight dark hair and navy eyes that were so deep they were almost purple. Usually he looked so untouchable, cool, calm and collected like nothing in the world bothered him.

Now, though, shoulders hunched forward and his head dipped in shame, he looked more like a scolded puppy. Lance couldn’t help but grin at how adorable he looked in that moment.

“Hey,” he said, trying to ease some of the tension between the agent’s shoulders. The man still startled, whipping his face up to look Lance in the eyes. His face was flush with embarrassment and his eyes were nervously flicking to the seamstresses who were still standing over him.

“Umm, hi.” He stuttered, “Are you Lance…” he looked down at a piece of paper he had clutched in his hand, “McClain? The time tailor?”

Lance shifted his weight, putting a hand on his hip. He was trying to look cool, despite the fact that his heart was thundering wildly in his chest. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Oh,” He stood from where he had been sitting and awkwardly stuck out a hand. “I’m Keith Kogane, the, uh, agent that you sent an email to last night. I came because I want to say that I’m sorry and I-” He was trying to hold Lance’s eyes, but couldn’t help glancing anxiously to the seamstresses who watching them like they were a Spanish soap opera

“Hey, why don’t we go talk somewhere a little more private?” Lance said, silently offering the agent a way out from the prying eyes of the ladies. The tailor knew that they were just overly protective of him, but he doubted that it was doing Keith any benefits.

The agent eagerly nodded and followed Lance into the private dressing rooms where they could talk without the ladies all listening in. They sat down side-by-side on a little bench in the dressing room. Keith was nervously picking at the edge of the paper in his hand and Lance saw that it was his email from last night.

“Oh hey,” he began when it became obvious that Keith wasn’t going to be starting this conversation. “I’m sorry I sent that and it sounded so angry. It was a late night and I was tired. I should have waited until the morning before writing something so passive aggressive.”

Keith shook his head and turned to look Lance in the eyes. “No, it’s my fault. I was being stupid when I wrote that and I didn’t think it through. Usually, Shiro, my partner, does the reports. He was really busy yesterday and forgot to submit it, so I wanted to do it for him.”

The agent looked down, hair falling over his face, but doing little to cover up the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. His delicate eyelids fluttered close with a sigh, hiding his dark eyes. Lance couldn’t help, but stare. Because this boy was even more beautiful up close than Lance could ever imagine.

He had seen Agent Kogane from a distance, walking into dressing rooms for a fitting and being outfitted in a different century’s clothing. Lance had seen him in tuxedos, coats, dresses, and robes. He had seen him dressed like nobility, glittering in diamonds with his regal head fitted to a crown. He had seen him dressed like a pedestrian, outfitted in trendy street clothes with his time travelling equipment transformed into the latest fashions.

But no matter, what the Ensemble department dressed him in- he always looked magnificent.

Seeing Keith Kogane up close, though, was an entirely different experience and so much greater than seeing him at a distance. If Lance’s bi heart wasn’t already smitten, it was definitely head over heels now. He wasn’t sure how he was going to recover from this.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Lance murmured, nudging Keith with his shoulder. The agent looked up, meeting his eyes. “I appreciate that you took the time to come down here. A lot of agents wouldn’t bother to give us a second glance.”

Keith gave a raspy chuckle that sent shivers down Lance’s spine. “Yeah, there’s more than a couple of dicks in my department. I’m sorry for that.” Looked towards the door of the dressing room with a small shudder. “Your seamstresses, though, should consider becoming a force of their own.”

Lance laughed, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. “You’re not wrong. They’re just overprotective of me.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I wouldn’t want to know what would happen if I really tried to hurt you.”

“It probably wouldn’t be pretty. They can be particularly vicious, even a big bad agent like you couldn’t keep them at bay.”

The agent laughed out loud like he was surprised by Lance’s joke. It was a sloppy, toothy laugh, full of cute little snorts. He immediately brought up his hand to cover his mouth, but that didn’t stop the adorable giggles from coming out of his chest.

Lance blinked and wondered if it was possible to fall so quickly in love with someone or whether you could fall in love with someone by just their laugh.

Because he was sure that was happening to him right now.

How had he not known that this beautiful boy was working right beside him? How had he spent so long only admiring him from a far, not even knowing his name? How had he not known just how right meeting him would feel?

And now, how was he going to resist him now that he knew?

Lance was being royally screwed by his own heart and it never felt so good.

He couldn’t help, but thinking that maybe he had a chance, though. He had been getting good vibes from Keith and it really seemed like they had a connection. It was the moment of truth, though. The moment that he had to take the leap and just ask the boy out.

“Hey, Lance, you okay?” The agent asked suddenly, jerking the tailor out of his thoughts. He startled and the seat squeaked embarrassingly under him.

He tried to fight back a blush and nervously picked at a nail.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something maybe?”

Keith looked him in the eyes, his gaze open and welcoming. He was so different than the cold, pretentious agent that Lance had been expecting. “Of course, Lance, you can ask me anything.”

“Well, I was just thinking that this actually turned into a pretty fun thing, and maybe you would want to do it again sometimes?”

There was a moment of pause and he watched Keith processing the words he had just said. Then, understanding lit in his eyes and he gave Lance a small smile. “Yeah, of course. I think that we could be really good friends too.”

And Lance’s world came crashing down as the word “friend” left Keith’s mouth.

He had gotten it so wrong? Had he really read the signs so badly? Or was Keith just mixing things up?

Lance opened his mouth to correct Keith, but before he could the boy leaned forward and took Lance’s hands. The world was moving too fast and he didn’t know what was happening.

“I’m so glad that you said that, Lance. It’s been a while since I’ve made a new friend because I’m so busy with work. But I would love to, I really would.” Keith was looking at him so innocently and so hopefully that there was no way in hell that Lance was going to be able to crush this boy’s dreams. It would be like kicking a puppy.

Anyways, being Keith’s friend was better than nothing.

Right?

He gulped, put on a convincing smile, even though his heart was hurting inside.

“Yeah, of course. There’s nothing I would like more.”

He didn’t think that it was possible, but Keith’s smile got even wider and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Lance was glad that he was able to do that for Keith, but he couldn’t deny the pain he was already feeling inside of his chest. 

“Great, I gotta go now before Shiro sends a squad to come find me, but we’ll meet again soon, right?” Keith was looking at Lance hopefully, a little doubt leaking into that last word.

Lance could feel himself softening, and gave the agent a more genuine smile. They both stood and the other boy looked like he was practically buzzing with excitement. Who knew that a highly-trained inter-chronological assassin could look so innocent.

“Right.” Lance answered and the agent turned to leave. But before he could go, the tailor grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Wait, you never told me about you wanted for your work order.”

Keith blinked, confused before realising his mistake. “Oh shit, yeah, that was the whole reason I came here.” He began digging through his pockets, apparently searching for something. “Shiro wrote it down for me, I have it right…” He finally pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it over.

In neat cursive it read: He will need a Meiji Restoration-era styled Kimono fit for a successful geisha. We will be in Kyoto, Japan circa 1880. The kimono needs to be something that will stick out in a crowd and draw the target’s eyes to him. Preferably red and black, but the colours are up to you. Please keep in mind to allow for weapons.

Below the text was some more details about which weapons Keith preferred and some additional details about his measurements, which must have come from the department’s database.

Lance raised an eyebrow, looking back to Keith. “You know that geisha kimonos are for typically for women, right?”

The agent sighed and glared at the ground. “Yeah, I know. Apparently, I have a talent for pulling them off. My higher up keeps assigning me to pose as a geisha on missions, even though I’ve asked her not to. She says it’s ‘too valuable of an asset’.” Keith’s nose was crinkled in annoyance and Lance had to fight not to coo about how adorable of a scene it was.

Also, he had to send this woman a gift basket because now he was imagining Keith in a kimono and... damn. Have mercy on his little bi heart, this boy was going to be the death of him.

“Is that okay?” Keith asked, jerking Lance away from his imagination and back into reality. Wait, shit, he didn’t know what Keith was talking about. It must have shown on his face because Keith spoke again to clarify.

“The kimono. Can you make one for me?”

“Oh yeah, sure, of course, it’s all good, yeah, definitely.” Lance stuttered out, feeling like the world’s biggest dork. Keith didn’t seem to mind though and just nodded, before turning to leave again.

“Ok, well, I really have to go now, but I promise I’ll see you later. Thanks. Bye!” And just like that he was gone.

Lance stood there, blinking and wondering if all that really just happened. Within just a few minutes, he had met the boy he had been crushing on for months, promptly fallen in love with that boy and then had his heart broken by him. Lance’s mind was spinning and he sat down, just so he could come to grips with himself.

God what was he going to do?

What was he going to do?

He needed to scream to someone about this and he knew just who to go to.

“Hunk! Pidge! I need you! This is an emergency!”

He burst into the engineering department, the door crashed against the wall with a bang. There were about fifty Time Engineers working in the room, but only about a dozen even glanced up at him. This was a very common occurrence.

“Hello, Lance, I’m glad you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.” An engineer sneered from close by. Lance fixed him with a glare, silently hoping that his stupid face would get caught in a machine.

“Hello, Rolo. I’m glad to see that you’re as pleasant as ever. Now, help a guy out and tell me where Hunk and Pidge are.”

The man laughed from his workbench. He gave Lance an evil smirk, his teeth glinting as much as the metal around him. “I really doubt that anything happening in the Tailoring department counts as an emergency. What’s the worst that can happen? Did you run out of yarn?”

Lance grit his teeth and held himself back from punching the guy in the face. He physically turned away from the engineer and walking into the back of the department. He hoped that he would just stumble on Hunk and Pidge, or maybe just find someone nicer to ask.

Eventually, he did ask someone and they directed him into the transportation unit where he found Pidge rolled under a jacked-up car and Hunk leaning over its exposed engine.

“Hey guys. I have an emergency.” Lance said gravely as he stepped into the room. Hunk immediately turned to him with a bright smile.

“Hey Lance, how’s it going?”

“No time for pleasantries, Hunk, this is a Code Cyan level emergency.”

“Code Cyan? What was that one again?” Pidge asked as she rolled herself out from under the car. She had grease all over her face and couldn’t look more in her element. She leaned forward resting her arms on her knees.

“Is for when he gets his lunch stolen?” Hunk asked, tapping a wrench against his wrist. Lance silently fumed that neither of them were paying attention to his meticulous planned codes or his emergency.

“No,” Pidge objected, “the sandwich one is code burgundy. Cyan is for when he loses his house keys.”

“Okay.” Lance cut them off before they could mess up even further. “Losing keys is obviously code amber because keys reminded me of gold and I didn’t want to be super obvious so I chose amber.” He huffed and put his hands on his hips.

“Code Cyan is like the most important one guys. That’s why it’s named after my favourite colour.”

“Oh yes, how could we forget.” Quipped Pidge with a small smirk. Lance shot her a glare.

“This isn’t funny. Code Cyan is for when I’ve fallen in love with my crush.”

Both of their eyes widened and Hunk even gave a happy little squeal. He was practically bouncing and obviously holding himself back from glomping Lance. “Is it Mullet McDreamy?”

Embarrassment instant spread through Lance as Hunk said the nickname. They never let him live that down.

“I called him that once. Once!”

Pidge looked off into the distance like she was fondly remembering childhood nostalgia. “And it was one of the best moments of my life.” Lance flushed even more, but chose not to acknowledge it with a comment.

Gotta block out the haters, that’s his motto.

“Okay, ignoring you guys again. We still have a Code Cyan.”

Hunk leaned in closer, obviously ready to get the details. “So why is it an emergency? Isn’t this a good thing?”

Lance deflated a little, remembering how he asked Keith out and then immediately got friend-zoned. “I mean, I finally met him and he’s amazing and I asked him out, but…” He trailed off, before speaking again, “He wasn’t interested. He just wanted to be friends.”

Both of his friends looked at him with big puppy eyes and Hunk came over and gave him a huge hug. “Hey, Lance, it’s okay. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“But he wasn’t just a fish, Hunk. He was like a mystical merman. How the hell am I going to find another mermaid or merman?”

“They’re out there. We’ll find them. Don’t worry. Why don’t we go back home and eat some ice cream, okay buddy?”

Lance nodded and as a group they walked out of the workroom and towards the exit. Just as they were about to leave, an annoying voice came from one of the work stations

“Hey, Lance, did you figure out that yarn emergency” Rolo sneered and before the tailor could even decide how to react, Pidge turned around.

“Go and fuck a toaster, Rolo. I hope your fucking dick gets stuck.”

They walked out without another word, but Lance was smiling the whole way. Together they went back to their apartment, and his friends immediately sat him down on the couch and procured him a tub of ice cream. Without a lot of talking, they chose a movie and spent the rest of the evening just enjoying each other’s quiet company.

After a couple hours of mindless comedies, Lance went to bed.

He dreamed of a handsome agent with an innocent smile.

Lance woke up with a design in his head. It swam through his mind like a delicate fish and before it could swim away, he reached out and caught it. He held it close, a fish in a bowl, as he got up and went to his private workroom in the Time Tailor Division.

Every time tailor had private, individual workrooms, in which they could pursue their own projects. Time tailors, though they didn’t get the same respect as the agents or the engineers, were all highly skilled individuals from different parts of the world and across different times. Because of that the TTPD, actively encouraged they to hone their skills through individual projects and pursuits.

Most time tailors were sporadic in their projects, testing their hand in as many different clothing styles as possible.

Lance, though, he had been working on the same project for as long as he could remember.

He stepped into his workroom and turned on the lights, watching as the dust suddenly billowed around him. It had been too long since he’d last been here.

In front of him, spread out lovingly on the desk, was a large kimono. It was the colour of the ocean right before a storm. It was endless stretch of water that painted its way through Lance’s life. It was his childhood and, perhaps, his future.

Lance stepped closer and gently ran a finger over the embroidery. The bottom of the kimono was decorated with carefully sewn sea life. Gold and silver fish flitted through delicately made coral. Shimmering silk scales caught the light. The white crests of waves rolled on the shoulders and across the chest. It was beautiful, but obviously half-finished, and embroidery wound up one side before stopping sharply before it could reach the other. Even in its partial state, it was easily the most magnificent thing that Lance had ever made.

He wasn’t sure he was every going to finish it. He wasn’t sure if he ever actually wanted to finish it.

His earliest memories were of kimonos. It was walking into his grandmother’s house and seeing the delicate silks rippling in the wind, striking flags of colour against the endless blue sky. It was strange to see the Asian garments in the Cuban household, but Lance’s grandmother never was one to follow the rules. She had taken a trip to Japan when she was a young girl and loved the style so much that she brought it back to Cuba.

She made a name for herself as the crazy Cuban lady who only made kimonos, but that didn’t stop her once. She taught Lance to sew on kimonos and showed him how to make artwork wearable.

He loved her. He loved her so much and had even considered breaking time travelling laws to see her again (though he would never risk jeopardising the future just to see his grandmother).

This kimono had been their last project together. Every time Lance worked on it he could almost hear his grandma’s voice and taste the salt of the sea on his tongue.

Maybe that’s why he had been so reluctant to finish it.

Then he remember the shy agent, nervously asking for a kimono…

Perhaps, he just never had the proper reason to.

Lance smiled, running a hand over the navy silk. He sat down and got to work.

He repeated the cycle for a few days. He rose early in the morning with a design in his head and worked late into the night in order to bring that dream into reality. Over that period, the kimono grew more complete and more complex. He had worked himself to the bone and it was nearly finished, he almost couldn’t believe it and a suddenly bittersweet wave rushed over him.

He smiled, leaning back for a moment to admire his work. He had been here for hours and he was hungry, so Lance finally decided to call it quits. He rose from his seat and leaned back to stretch his spine. He really should watch how much time he spent bent over. He glanced at the clock and saw that he worked through lunch and now it was almost dinner time.

Suddenly, he felt hungry and he reached for his phone so he could text Hunk and ask about dinner. He always turned his phone on airplane mode when he was working. He used it to play music, but found notifications to be too distracting. When he opened his phone, he saw the usual texts from his friends, but then at the bottom he saw a text from an unfamiliar number.

From: (322) 698-6920

(10:03am)

Hello. I really enjoyed talking a couple days ago and I thought that maybe we could meet again over coffee?

From: (322) 698-6920

(10:12am)

It’s Keith, by the way.

From: (322) 698-6920

(10:28 am)

Keith, the agent from a few days ago. My name is Keith.

Lance chuckled a little to himself as he read the agent’s awkward little texts. There was something so endearing about imagining Keith nervously trying to make sure Lance knew who he was. God, this boy was actually adorable and his heart hurt as he thought about how much he would like to date him.

He just wants to be friends, he reminded himself, so you should stop pining after the straight boy.

Despite his better judgment though, he couldn't help a soft little smile. For just a moment, he allowed himself a little warm feeling of affection. He ignored the bittersweet, and focused on what was good. And, though, he knew that he might regret it later, he spent some time imagining.

Because, he really was just a hopeless romantic. He was someone who wanted walks on the beach, with the ocean in one ear and the soft laughter of a loved one in the other. He wanted soft mornings, dappled in light and kisses over cups of coffee. He wanted to fall into bed and feel the weight of a body next to him. He wanted the things that he couldn't even imagine, and all the feelings that he had never felt before.

He wanted all of that and so much more.

And, he thought, that maybe Keith could be the one to give him those things. He knew they had just met, but there was something deep in his heart that told him that Keith was right, that Keith was good.

Lance bit his lip as he considered how to answer Keith. He didn't want to sound too forward, or like he was fishing for a date, because a romantic implication would certainly scare the boy away. He also didn't want to sound too blasé or passive about being friends.

With a hum, Lance careful began typing a reply.

To: The Cutest Cute Boy

(4:22 pm)

Hey Keith! Don't worry I didn't forget who you are!!

But Yeah! Lunch sounds great! Maybe tomorrow at noon?

Lance sent it, idly wondering if maybe he put in too much exclamation points. He didn't want to sound too excited...

Before he could really start doubting his amount of exclamation points, his phone pinged with a text message. His eyes widened at the quick response. Keith hadn't seemed like the type to carry his phone around all the time or answer texts immediately. Hell, if his mullet was anything to go by, he seemed like someone who would still be carrying their flip phone around.

Which might mean that the agent had been checking his phone all day for a response.

Lance practically squealed in delight as he thought about that. Before he could get his hopes up thought, a traitorous part in the back of his mind rose up. Remember, Lance, you aren't actually dating. You're just friends.

He slumped back down in his seat with a sigh. His shoulders were hunched forward and he ran a hand through his hair. With a sigh, he stood again and started walking out the workroom. Hunk had surely started dinner and Lance wanted to be there to get first dibs on the food. Maybe he could even convince his friend to give him a bit of an appetizer.

With a snap, he turned off the workroom light and walked away from the glittering kimono.

Chapter Text

The next day, Lance was a huge ball of nerves. All last night he had been fine and definitely not freaking out about his lunch date with Keith. But now, as noon grew steadily closer, he couldn't help the anxiety that was rolling in his stomach and clawing its way up his throat.

He had one hour left before he had to start walking to the café they agreed to meet at and he was really considering just bowing out now. Is it possible to get sick in an hour? Maybe he could…

“Lance!” Pidge’s voice snapped him from his thoughts and he whipped his head up. He had been lying face down in a couch cushion, limbs flung all over the piece of furniture. The girl was glaring at him from the pages of a book, her glasses perched precariously on her nose.

She narrowed her gaze when their eyes met. “I can practically smell your panic from here, so grow a pair and get your shoes on so you can go kiss the boy.”

Lance gave a high-pitch whine and ran his hands through his hair. “If only it was that easy, Pidge. I want to kiss his face off, but he just wants to be friends. And we’re never going to get together. And then, I’m going to live alone. And then, I’m going to die and get eaten by my twelve cats.” With a groan, he smashed his face into a cushion and prayed that the couch would eat him alive. Anything to save him from this fate.

Pidge didn’t look impressed.

“Sometimes you’re just the biggest idiot I’ve ever met and I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Lance glared up from his couch cushion, lips pouted out. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to a lovesick man.”

The girl didn’t answer and only patted his head while turning towards her book.

They sat like that for another half an hour, before Lance really had to go. With one last encouraging statement (“Get off your ass and go, you blue noodle”) he tore himself away from the couch and got moving.

Time seemed to move slowly around him as he lumbered off. Every step was a monumental effort and every move forward was a battle. That tight nervous ball of anxiety in him was growing larger and whipping up into a tempest. He felt himself sweating. His hands were growing clammy. A chill was slithering down his spine.

His eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized that he was here and that there was nowhere left to run. He was doing this…

He was really doing this…

He opened the café door, the little bell ringing merrily overhead. He almost immediately found Keith, sitting at a small table and dappled in sunlight. The agent smiled when he met his eyes and then all the suddenly the world melted around him.

He wasn’t sure why he had been nervous at all.

Keith looked amazing, even if his hair was ruffled in every direction and his agent uniform was so rumpled that it looked like he had slept in it. He might have also had a smear of dried spit on the side of his mouth.

But instead of finding that disgusting, Lance thought it was the most endearing thing that he had ever seen.

God, what was uselessly pining doing to him.

“Hi Lance! I’m over here!” Keith said too loudly even though Lance had obviously seen him and was heading in his direction. He was waving his hand in the air like a dork and nearly hit another patron in the back of the head.

The tailor chuckled as he approached and sat down. Across from him, Keith was absolutely beaming, rivalling the sun itself. How had he ever thought that this agent was a broody, mulleted mess?

“Hello Keith, I’m glad to see you too.” Lance greeted warmly. The ball of anxiety that had been in him before was almost completely gone and he couldn’t be any more relieved.

The agent blushed a little, the colour showing obviously on his pale cheeks. He was picking at his nail and nervously flicking his eyes between the table and Lance. He obviously had a ball of anxiety himself. God, this boy was so damn adorable.

Too bad that Lance would never get to date him. He had to keep that in mind. He really had to keep that in mind or else he was going to fall for this boy even harder.

“I was worried,” Keith started, still fiddling with his hands, “that I was going to oversleep because I took a nap after coming back from one of my missions. I woke up just in time and ran right over here.”

Oh, Lance had been correct. The poor boy had slept in the uniform and was probably still tired from the mission. Lance knew the fabric that those uniforms were made of and though it was great for jumping between times, it was terrible for sleeping in. He must have crashed almost immediately after getting back into his time. Lance gave him a look of empathy.

“It’s fine, Keith, you weren’t late at all. In fact, I was probably the late one.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out took one of the boy’s nervous hands.

Keith startled at the touch, but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he stared at their interlocked hands like they held the secrets of the universe. He half expected Keith to say something about it, but the boy only sighed, slumping his shoulders forward.

“I just really don’t want to mess this up,” Keith whispered while looking at Lance through long dark lashes. Those pretty purple-navy eyes absolutely sparkled and the tailor internally swooned. “I don’t have many friends and I can’t afford losing who I do have.”

And there was that word. The word that had begun to haunt him in his dreams and keep him awake at night.

Friends.

Just friends.

It hurt. It hurt more than he thought a single word could hurt him. He tried not to let it show though and slowly pulled his hand away from Keith. The boy looked at him confused and Lance tried to hide his hurt with a forced smile.

“Don’t worry, Keith. You haven’t lost me yet.” And as he said the words, he couldn’t help but think the distance was growing between them.

The agent leaned back in his chair, still looking with slightly hurt bafflement. “Okay…” he obviously didn’t know what to say yet.

Seeing Keith look so small and it broke a very essential part of Lance. He instantly felt guilt turn in his stomach and cursed himself for doing this to the boy.

“Hey, Keith, I mean it.” He leaned in, giving the agent a real smile, “I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

The agent held his gaze for another moment before relaxing again. The tension visibly melted away from him and Lance was proud of himself for doing that.

“I can’t wait either, Lance.”

The rest of the date went better as Lance regaled Keith with stories from his childhood and Keith shared his unexpected dry sense of humour.

If it was a date, then Lance would have said that it was immensely successful, which was the problem because it only made Lance feel more in love.

He was growing fond of this boy, incredibly fond. He loved the way that Keith’s mouth crinkled right before he laughed. He loved the way that the sunlight glinted off his hair. He loved sparkling of his eyes and the deeply meaningful questions he asked. He loved his smile, a little crooked but so right.

And perhaps it was the head over heels affection that made he say what he said next.

“Hey, do you want to come back to my workroom to see what I’ve been making for you?”

Keith met his eyes and tilted his head in confusion.

“You’ve been making something for me?”

“Yeah, the kimono that I promised you for the work order a couple days ago.”

The agent’s face lit up in realisation before narrowing again in sight confusion. Lance didn’t know why Keith was so puzzled by this. “You managed to make a whole kimono in just a couple days?” he said.

Ah, that’s why Keith was confused, because, yes, usually there would be no way that Lance could complete an entire garment in a couple days. “Oh,” Lance said and began to answer Keith, “well, I might have already had a kimono in progress so I just modified it for your purposes.”

“That’s good,” Keith said with a smile. He held Lance’s gaze, until he was apparently embarrassed and blushed while looking down at the table. “But yeah, I would love to come and try it on.”

At Keith’s agreement, Lance felt suddenly nervous. He had spent months upon months creating this kimono. He had put his heart and soul into it. And now, he was faced with the possibility that maybe Keith wouldn’t like it?

Could Lance have been mistaken this entire time?

He gulped nervously, suddenly feely his palms grow damp. He tried desperately not to let it show, though, and stood up from the table to silently lead Keith to his workroom. The walked together, side by side, with an awkward silence between them.

That was partially Lance’s fault. He had been the one carrying the conversation and now he had suddenly gone quiet. Hell, he was the one who had invited Keith to come into the workroom and now he was acting like he didn’t want Keith to be here.

His nerves were getting to him, though. He couldn’t deny it and he couldn’t stop the endless doubts that were running through his head. He just had to focus on what was ahead and try not to look like a complete idiot in front of Keith.

He gulped, tugging at the hem of his shirt and risking a look at Keith. The agent was following in step with him, his head forward and eyes never wavering. For the moment, he reverted back to the cold unattainable secret agent that Lance didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with.

But then, Keith turned his head and blinked at Lance innocently. His big, purple eyes gleamed up at him. “what?” he said, crinkling his nose, “is there something on my face?”

Lance’s lip quirked, while he waved him off. “No, it’s nothing.”

Keith looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could Lance stopped them in front of a door.

“Well this is where the magic happens!” Lance exclaimed with a flourish. He made his hands razzle dazzle and immediately regretted it when he saw Keith roll his eyes. God, now Keith thought he was an absolute dork.

Why the hell did he pull out the razzle dazzle hands. Goddammit, Lance, pull yourself together and act cool for once.

He tried to smoothly open the door, only to remember he had forgotten to unlock it. With a flushed face, he pulled out his keys and attempted to open the door. Thankfully, this time it opened for him and he was saved from further embarrassment.

The lights crackled to life above them, dispelling the darkness and revealing the glittering kimono that hung on display.

Lance couldn’t help, but smile as he looked at it. In its incompleted state is was pretty, but now, it was a master piece. The deep cobalt blue of the silk was striking and contrasted against the dozens of delicately sewn fish that Lance had made. Sea life swam over the hems, intricately tiny fins dancing as the fabric rippled in the air.

It was Lance’s best work, and he was proud to give it away.

“Lance,” Keith gasped beside him. His eyes were wide, drinking in the sight of the kimono. “This is too much. It’s too beautiful.”

The tailor glanced at Keith, taking in his awed face. His kimono was far from the most beautiful thing in the room. He just didn’t realise it.

“It’s just an old thing I had lying around…” he said softly, while looking back to the garment. For a moment, he got caught up in the memory of his grandmother, of billowing silk in the Cuban breeze. But before he could get lost in it, he shook his head and focused back on the beautiful boy next to him.

With a grin, he lighted pulled Keith forward, “well come on, let’s see how it fits.”

The fitting, of course, went wonderfully. Lance swore that he could have dressed Keith in a huge, grey gym sock and he would have looked good.

In the kimono, he looked like a god. The boy’s pale skin contrasted magnificently against the cobalt fabric. Every breath he took rippled the silk, creating an illusion of movement in the water. But even more magnificent than the garment was the agent caught within the folds.

Keith was looking at him, hesitant and unsure, as Lance finished tying the on the finishing obi. His eyebrows were crinkled together and kept smoothing his sleeve.

“What’s wrong,” Lance asked as he pulled the silk band into a traditional shape. Keith had been nervous since he had first laid eyes on the garment and Lance couldn’t exactly figure out why.

The agent was gazing down and gingerly running a finger over a carefully sewn fish. “It’s really beautiful, Lance” He looked up, meeting the tailor’s eyes, “it’s too beautiful. I don’t deserve this.”

Lance had never heard a more blatant lie in his life. Of course, Keith deserved this. He deserved this and so much more, so how could he ever think that he didn’t.

If only he could show Keith exactly how special he actually was.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with an idea and he took Keith’s hand. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise and he rapidly flicked his eyes between their clasped hands and Lance’s face. The tailor smiled, hoping to calm the boy down. He led Keith to the mirror and let him see himself in the garment for the first time.

“Look, Keith,” he said as he smoothed the fabric. He couldn’t get over just how good Keith looked in this outfit. He should have given this garment to the boy ages ago.

He flicked his eyes up and noticed that Keith was still pointedly not looking at himself.

“Keith,” he whispered, his voice soft and calm. He felt like he was slowly coaxing a small animal out of a cage. “Look at the mirror. You’re beautiful.”

The agent slowly raised his eyes, meeting Lance’s in the mirror. He looked like he still didn’t quite believe the tailor, but his frantic tugging at the sleeve stopped. And slowly, a tiny, barely-there smile formed on his lips.

“you really think so?” Keith asked carefully, a little bit of belief starting to shine in his voice. It spread an unexpected warmth through his chest. Without realising it, he drifted closer like the tide caught in the pull of the moon. Suddenly, he realised just how close they were…

They were close, so close… close enough that their breaths lingered together and Lance could practically taste the boy. Keith’s tongue flicked out and wetted his lips.

If he just leaned forward, they could…

They could…

“Lance,” Keith’s voice trembled with emotion, “thank you for being my friend.”

He didn’t know whether he imagine it or not, but he swears he heard his world shatter like glass. Because there was that word again: friend.

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

How had he forgot. How the hell had he forgot?!

It was the thing that had been haunting him for days and causing this pain in his heart.

Keith just wants to be friends. He doesn’t have any other friends.

Lance couldn’t betray the boy by messing up their friendship with his stupid feelings. He just needed to stop. He needed to stop feeling these things and let his love fade so that it didn’t get in the way of their friendship.

That’s what he needed to do in order to be a good friend to Keith.

That’s what Keith deserved.

“I’m glad,” he said, not being able to keep all the hurt out of his voice. The words sounded false even in his own ears. “I’m so glad.”

The agent furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Lance full of concern and confusion. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Keith didn’t look like he believed him. “Of course not. I’m just” -his voice cracked on the word- “happy.”

Keith was about to say more, but before he could, Lance turned away. He could practically feel Keith’s eyes on his back, but he refused to look back and see the boy’s pity. “I’m glad it mostly fits.” He said, fighting to keep the emotions out of his voice. “I’ll only have to make some slight alterations. I can probably have it done in a couple days.”

“Oh good,” his heart hurt when he realised that Keith’s voice sounded equally as hollow, “Shiro will like that. He had been wanting to move the mission up anyway.”

“Right,” he said. He was a professional. He needed to do this professionally. “I can schedule your final ensemble in three days. Would that work for the mission?” He risked a look back at Keith, keeping his face blank.

The agent gulped and straightened his back. All around him the kimono rippled, the fluidity of the fabric contrasting against his stiff posture.

“Alright, I’ll ask my superior about it and you’ll receive a confirmation later tonight.” With a swish, he turned, the kimono flaring out behind him, and he retreated into the changing room.

Lance stared blankly at the door, feeling like he had done either everything wrong or nothing at all.

Lance went home that night feeling unsettled and anxious. He didn’t know why, but he suspected it had something to do the kicked puppy look that Keith had given him at the end of the fitting. He had told him that he was happy, and yet neither of them had come out of the room looking happy.

He sighed, casting his eyes down to the floor and idly listening to Hunk and Pidge talk around him. They were excitedly chatting about some kind of invention, and, like usual most of it was going over his head.

“Hey, Lance, you okay? You don’t look so hot?” Hunk asked, breaking him out of his own head. He jerked his head up, and tried to force a smile.

Neither of them looked very convinced, but didn’t say anything either. They watched silently watched as Lance went through the motions of dinner. Pretended to start talking about their invention thing, but he could feel their hot concern on his neck.

He gulped and took his plate to the sink. “I think I’m just going to go to bed earlier. So, I’ll see you two in the morning.”

“Yeah, of course,” he heard Pidge say behind him as he began to head to his room.

He heaved a heavy breath, feeling the tension on his shoulders begin to dissipate in the calm atmosphere. He couldn’t shake it entirely though, because he knew something was wrong. He just couldn’t pin point what.

He paced a little, full of unsettled anxiety, and took off his shirt before collapsing on his bed. Maybe it would be easier to just sleep and figure it out tomorrow instead of tearing himself apart about it tonight.

He settled into the soft bed, but right before he could truly fall asleep his phone chimed, indicating that he had a text message. With a groan, he rolled over and swiped the phone off the stand.

His eyes were already heavy with sleep, and the words seemed to be swimming. The Cutest Cute… who was that? He thought to himself trying to remember who he had set that nickname for.

Oh shit. He sat up so fast that he almost dropped the phone and had to struggle to get a hold of it again. He clutched it tightly, the whites of his knuckles showing. His breath was coming quick and fast and he had to fight to keep it under control.

He braced himself, and slowly began to read the text from Keith, fully expecting that the agent would tell him that they weren’t friends anymore after the way he acted today.

From: The Cutest Cute Boy

(8:47 pm)

Hey. It’s Keith, the agent you fitted today.

Lance smiled at Keith’s awkward little greeting and obvious lack of text experience. Somehow, they endeared him to Lance more than he thought possible. He kept reading.

The mission has been scheduled to depart three days from now, so please have the garment ready by then.

The message was simple and to the point. It was a formal work update and lacked any of the friendliness that Lance had seen before. His heart sunk in his chest, but before he could start beating himself up about it, another text came through.

From: The Cutest Cute Boy

(8:54 pm)

I also wanted to say I am sorry for how weird I acted today. I must have still ben tired from the mission before.
Will you be at the final fitting?

Relief instantly filled Lance, making him feel so much lighter. Keith wanted to see him again. Keith wanted to see him. He practically squealed into a pillow clutched the phone to his chest. He was so glad that that conversation hadn’t gone how he thought it was going to go.

He sighed happily, before turning back to his phone to answer Keith. He suspected that the boy was also leaning anxiously over his phone.

To: The Cutest Cute Boy

(8:59 pm)

Yeah! Of course, I’ll be there! I can’t wait!!!

For once, he didn’t care about how eager he seemed. He had a cute boy excited to see him and it had been a long time since that had happened. It had been a longer time since he was just as excited about seeing the person too.

The mission had got moved up and soon Lance was getting a notification that he was needed in the final fitting of the kimono on Keith. The time travellers were scheduled to leave in a couple hours, which meant they had to be preparing their gear and getting into their era-appropriate costumes.

Lance packed up the kimono carefully, tenderly folding it and being careful not to give it creases. He had been modifying it to Keith’s measurements for the last few days, and he wasn’t going to need to make any changes.

But just because he didn’t think another fitting was necessary, didn’t mean he was going to the chance to see Keith.

Just thinking about seeing Keith, draped in silk and glittering jewels was making his throat go dry.

Damn, was he really this much of a lovestruck fool?

With a sigh, he lifted the box he put the kimono in and began walking towards the Destination Room, which was the point that all the agents travelled from.

When he got there, he saw that the room was already in the familiar chaos of pre-mission prep. Dozens of agents, technicians and handlers were scurrying around and making last-minute preparations. Long strings of technical jargon were shouted across the room and weapons were analysed to make sure they were in perfect working order.

Lance turned away from the chaos and towards the Ensemble area. He quickly spotted Keith, who looked more like an exasperated movie star than a deadly agent as he argued with his hair stylist.

He watched as Keith tried desperately to dissuade the stylist from putting in a glittery hair pin. Unfortunately for him, the stylist wasn’t taking no for an answer and stuck it in anyways, even as Keith complained.

The agent huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

“Hey, samurai.” Lance said with a laugh as he approached. Their eyes meant in the mirror and Lance had to fight back a gasp.

Keith was absolutely dazzling. His delicate features were brushed with a light makeup and red tint had been applied to his lid. He looked like royalty with gold twined in his hair and rubies dripping from his ears. The golden hairpiece in his hair twinkled every time he moved his head.

He was magnificent and Lance couldn’t believe that this was the same stumbling boy who had nervously met him for lunch.

Keith stood with an almost inhuman grace and he stretched his arms over his head with a grunt. He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Lance still staring at him.

“I know I look funny, but you don’t have to stare.” He said, suddenly defensive and Lance immediately shook his head.

“No, it’s not that at all. It’s just you look…” he trailed off, eyes taking in the magnificent sight before him again. And then, before he could stop himself, he said “You look beautiful.”

Keith blushed, his cheeks becoming just as red as his eye makeup. Lance, on the other hand, panicked and nervously began picking at the edges of the box he was holding.

Oh shit.

Why did he say that? That wasn’t something that friends said to each other.

“Well… I, um, uh,” he stumbled over words, unable to meet Keith’s eyes even as he felt them burning into him. He gulped and turned jerkily towards the dressing room. “Let’s go try on the kimono.”

He began walking away, desperately hoping that he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. Behind him, he could hear Keith following him and the chimes of his hairpiece.

They got into the dressing room and Lance gave a breath of relief. He easily slipped into the familiar rhythm of work as he began to drape the kimono on Keith. The beautiful silk slid easily onto the boy’s body and fit him like it was destiny. Lance hummed in satisfaction as eyes carefully skimmed over the seams and the hems.

He directed Keith to face the mirror as he gently tied the obi around his waist, tying the fabric into a traditional knot.

And then, he took a step back and just looked at Keith.

If he had thought that the agent looked like royalty before, now he was a god.

He looked absolutely ethereal, like a flame caught between the folds of the ocean. He moved like grace. With every motion, he shimmered, the kimono rippling like a stream. He stepped down from the small platform, coming towards the tailor.

Lance had the suddenly image of a god coming down from the heavens to bless his unlikely form. He sucked in a breath when Keith got close, taking his hands in his.

“Lance,” he whispers, his name like a prayer on his tongue and something inside of him melted in shocked awe.

“Keith,” he answered back and watched a tender smile spread out across the agent’s face.

“Thank you,” Keith murmured. He looked down to the kimono as he spoke. “Thank you for all of this. The kimono is so beautiful and I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”

Lance shook his head, unable to understand why this dumb, beautiful boy couldn’t accept that he deserved so much more than a garment. “You’re welcome. I loved making it for you.”

Keith lifted his eyes, and their gaze met. Lance’s breath caught in his throat and his heart beat a tattoo in his chest. The world around them faded away, and everything hinged on that moment. It was just him and Keith and the soft silence between them.

Then, suddenly there was a shout. “Keith, we have to go!” and they were both jerked out of the moment. They turned and saw that the time travelling device was starting up.

A heavy stone sunk in Lance’s stomach as he realised that Keith was about to be ripped away from him and the moment would be lost.

But right before, Lance was about to lose all hope, Keith rushed forward and suddenly Keith was kissing him.

His eyes widened. His heart sped up. He felt like everything inside him was crashing down and being built up at the same exact time. His frantic mind went quiet as Keith’s delicious lips against his became the only thing he could focus on. They were soft and hot and so much more than anything that Lance could have imagined.

The world faded away and it was just the two of them. He could feel Keith’s strong body against his and he slowly lifted his hands to gently place them on the agent’s waist. Keith hummed in content and got closer deepening the kiss to the point where Lance believed he had just died and gone to heaven.

Then, just as quick as it started, Keith pulled away and the kiss broke apart. Their breaths were heavy and hung between them. Lance was left blinking and staring down at this beautiful, impulsive boy who definitely wanted to be more than just friends.

The agent gave a small confident smirk and a light-hearted chuckle, before leaning in again.

But this time instead of going for Lance’s lips he spoke directly into his ear.

“I have something I want to tell you when I get back.” He whispered, his voice ruffled the hair next to his ear and sending a delightful shiver down his spine.

Before, Lance could reply, though, Keith was walking away and towards the time machine where Shiro waited. Lance wanted to shout something to him, but he found himself unable to move. His mind was still processing the kiss and the fact that his unrequited pining, might not be so unrequited.

Suddenly, there was a flash and Lance watched as Keith was pulled into another time.