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“You are a heathen!” Pidge declared, then crossed her arms over her chest and twisted her torso, turning her back to Keith. Hunk, who was sitting in the seat next to her inched defensively to the side, sensing the powder keg that was the green paladin about to blow.
Keith, unable to understand what he'd said wrong, searched for understanding among the other's faces around the table. “What? Why?!”
Hunk leaned forward to see Keith better. “She has a point. Strawberry Oreos are bad enough, but crushing them into almond milk? That's just a step too far.”
“And I thought I could trust you to have an open mind about food, Hunk!” Keith sulked.
Lance squinted at him from across the table, “Are you sure you're from Earth? Sometimes I wonder if you're not some kind of alien.”
“Do I look alien?” Keith snapped. Lance always pushed his buttons every time he opened his mouth.
“Well, half-alien maybe? I dunno, but there's something not human about doing weird shit with your food like that.”
“Language, Lance!” Shiro warned, “And everyone is allowed to have differences in taste, regardless of how... strange they may be.”
“Shiro, you traitor!” Keith gasped, “At least I don't put ketchup on mac ‘n’ cheese!”
There was a collective, disparaging “ooh!” from around the group.
Shiro suddenly sighed, “God, I miss mac ‘n' cheese,” ignoring the condemnation and suddenly sobering the mood of the room.
They all looked around at each other. They rarely mentioned things they missed from home as it brought up too many emotions. Nevertheless, once in a while, like now, it just became too much to not speak about it.
“Swedish fish,” Pidge said quietly, “I never would have thought, of all the things I would miss, that that would be the thing I'd miss.”
“Apples.” Everyone turned towards Hunk, but no one was actually brave enough to make eye contact, so they all just focused on a spot somewhere on the table. “We've got an apple tree at the bottom of my parents’ garden. One of the first things I learned to bake was apple pie. I remember kneeling up on the kitchen chair to reach the table. I really miss apples.”
There was a moment of silence.
“What about you, Keith?” Pidge asked.
Keith sat thinking for a bit, his forearms resting on the table in front of him, fiddling absently with his fingers. “Beaver Nuggets,” he said eventually.
Lance snorted a laugh, which wound Keith up once again.
“Jeez, Lance! What are you, eight?” Keith swung his leg out blindly under the table hoping to make contact with Lance's shin, but only finding air.
Lance caught Shiro's warning look and tried to straighten his features.
“So, Lance, I guess yours is garlic knots? You've mentioned missing them before.” Shiro asked, trying to neutralise the conversation again.
“It was, I mean, it is. I miss the taste, but I think the thing I miss the most is gum.”
“Gum? Like, mint gum?” Keith asked.
“Oh, I really don't care what flavour, but yeah, just… gum.”
“Why gum?” Keith was genuinely perplexed by Lance's choice.
And there it was. Lance couldn’t have picked a better ironic example of not thinking before he spoke or simply keeping his mouth shut. He wondered why he couldn’t have just agreed it was garlic knots.
“Umm…” Lance nervously looked about and glanced at Shiro. Shiro seemed to understand and gave him a nod of encouragement. He swallowed thickly, staring down at his hands where he was running a finger repeatedly around the cuff of his sleeve, and his knee began to bounce more than usual.
“I,” he paused, feeling the heat of everyone's eyes suddenly on him, “I don't talk about it much, but when I was twelve, I was diagnosed with ADHD. It-it's why I can't keep still and why I sometimes talk too loud, and too much, and I say things before I think—” he laughed nervously and it kind of caught in his throat like a hiccup.
Feeling the weight of expectation for him to carry on, he took a breath to continue. “It makes me impulsive, like my brain has no brakes. I find it hard to focus if I don't have something to concentrate on, but if I do, I can absolutely hyperfocus on that thing, like, y’know, hitting targets.” A small smile twitched on his lips. “I was fine back home, on Earth. I had my medication which helped, but, well, it's been a while…”
He drifted off on that thought, of how the first few weeks of being unexpectedly dragged into space had been hell, with so many things to concentrate on and adapt to.
The abrupt stop of his pills had left him confused, and as if that wasn’t enough, insomnia played havoc with his mind as he lay awake at night, not even allowing him the respite of sleep to briefly escape from the chaos they'd been thrown into.
It was a lot to deal with. Too much. But Shiro had sensed there was something much more going on with him, so one night he'd approached Lance and persuaded him to tell him everything.
“Gum!” he brought the purpose of the conversation back around, “Yeah, gum. It helps me focus, helps me fidget less… sometimes it helps me talk less if my mouth is otherwise occupied.” He sheepishly grinned, “So, without my pills, I'd do anything for gum right now.”
The room remained quiet for a beat. It was Hunk that spoke first,
“Dude, why didn't you tell me all this before?”
“It just didn't matter back at the Garrison, I guess,” Lance said with a shrug, “and there's not a lot I can do about it now.”
“We would’ve been able to support you though,” said Pidge with a look of sympathy, “that's what friends and space family are for.”
He smiled at her, genuinely touched by her kindness. “Thanks, Pidge.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling comfortable enough now, Lance, to share with us how you feel. I’m proud of you,” said Shiro, ever the pillar of paternity. He stood up with a stretch, “Well, I don't know about you guys, but I need to hit the sack. Today was exhausting.”
They all nodded in agreement. One by one they got up from the table and started to make their way to their rooms. Shiro was the only one who took notice of Keith, who still sat at the table and showing no signs of moving.
“You okay? Aren't you going to bed, Keith?” he asked, a little concerned.
“Yeah, I'll go along in a minute,” he answered a bit despondently.
“Well, okay. See you in the morning.”
Keith stayed for a while more, then got up and headed for his room, carrying his thoughts with him.
So, maybe he had the wrong impression of Lance all this time. When he'd heard him confess and describe how he felt, suddenly the over-the-top, loudmouthed, cocky Lance that he thought he knew had vanished, and instead, there was just a nervous, insecure and frightened teenager, which was something Keith could actually relate to.
With a brand-new perspective, Lance—his excessiveness, his habitual necessity to prove himself—all began to make much more sense. It was a pretence, a poor mask he wore to stop people seeing his true self and shield his vulnerability.
Then that got him thinking; all that ‘rivalry’ stuff that he'd been spouting for so long—what if that were an act, too? What if it was just some kind of cover-up? If so, what was he trying to hide?
Wait. Instead of rivals, had Lance perhaps wanted to be friends, but by constantly saying the wrong things, Keith had pushed him away? Lance didn’t act that way with anyone else.
Did Lance want to be more than friends?
He didn't know where that thought had come from, but it stopped him in his tracks just as he reached his door.
All those times Lance over-talked and those times he tried to show off. The times he'd wound Keith up. Was it all failed attempts to get his attention?
The deeper he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the pieces of the puzzle that was Lance fell into place. And perhaps he was being an over-dramatic teenager himself, but these revelations terrified him more than anything he’d had to face in his life so far. For all that time, he'd been grateful of Lance's stupid charade. Grateful that Lance had given him somewhere to hide. Keith had dismissed him or argued as a means to cover up his own feelings. The true feelings he had for Lance. Keith realised now, that every one of those times they had sparked off each other, had him slowly falling for the Cuban pain-in-the-ass from the moment they'd been thrown together into space.
He jammed a hand up against the wall, the impact of his thoughts suddenly messing with his heartbeat and breathing and making him light-headed. Dazed, he opened the door and drifted over to the bed, landing heavily when he sat. He leaned forward and put his head between his knees to try and gain some control.
Just a moment later, the door swished open. Lance wandered in, not looking up from the screen in his hand. Keith almost snapped at him for the rude intrusion like he had done a thousand times before, but now things were different. Now he understood Lance genuinely wasn't doing these things on purpose.
“Hey, Keith, I was just…” he stopped when he finally looked up and saw Keith, looking extra pale and slightly terrified.
“Keith, what's wrong?” He rushed over to kneel in front of him. “Are you okay?” He tossed the hand-held device to the side to hold Keith’s arms as he searched his face for answers.
Keith was embarrassed. Not just for being caught in the middle of his crisis, but by the caring way Lance responded to him, which, until now, he had shamefully chosen to ignore, and he felt himself fall a little bit further.
“I'm okay.”
Lance gave him a disbelieving look.
“No, really, I am,” he protested.
“There's something up, spit it out,” demanded Lance.
Suddenly, Keith's pocket felt like it held a lead weight at the thought of what was in it. The only thing that had been in his pocket the day they had left Earth, and it had been there ever since.
He knew what he wanted to do and his light-headedness was making him ignore all the second-guessing that would have normally stopped him, so without hesitation, he stole his chance.
“Close your eyes and put out your hands.”
Lance opened his mouth to retort, but Keith needed him to do it before he changed his mind. “Just do it, trust me?” Lance went to speak again, but Keith was beginning to lose his nerve. “Would you just do it?” he snapped.
Lance looked warily at Keith, but moved his hands together between them, holding them out with a little hesitation. “Keith, I swear to god, if you—”
“It's nothing bad! Now would you hurry up and shut your eyes so I can give it to you?” He instantly regretted his choice of words.
Lance raised an eyebrow, but the sparkle in his eyes and the deep blush that swept across his cheeks gave Keith a little courage and hope in his instincts. “Shut up.” He mumbled, feeling the heat creep up his face too.
Lance broke out in a huge grin but said no more and did as he was told. He heard Keith rummage in his pocket and his hands instinctively flinched when he felt Keith's cool fingers drop something small and light into his cupped palms.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
Lance opened his eyes and the smile instantly fell from his face, replaced by one of shock and disbelief. He stared for a moment, before gingerly picking up the familiar green packet between his fingers like it would dissolve if he held it too tight. He looked up at Keith who was watching him in anticipation, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he waited for Lance's reaction. He looked back at the packet of Doublemint, then back at Keith.
Lance's voice barely made a whisper. “I... can have a piece?” he asked, not quite believing what he was seeing.
Keith smiled and nodded. “Keep the packet, it's yours.”
The look on Lance's face made Keith's heart stutter. He'd never seen Lance look at him that way before, but he supposed he'd never looked at Lance that way either.
Lance’s unexpected reaction caught Keith unawares, as he launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around Keith's neck. “Oh my god, I could kiss you!” he squealed. Then Lance tensed as he realised what he’d said. He pulled back in horror but didn’t get far. Keith had thrown his own arms around Lance to stop himself from falling backwards, but to his surprise, Keith clung tighter. And, if Lance could be impulsive, then Keith was indisputably his rival in that department, for at that moment he swooped forward and caught Lance's lips with his own.
Lance froze. Keith froze.
When his brain finally caught up, Lance realised that it wasn't accidental. Keith was actually kissing him, and he had no idea why, but he knew if he didn't respond soon it was all going to stop and he couldn't let that happen. Not after years of secretly dreaming of it, ever since the first time he’d laid eyes on the beautiful, but out-of-his-league, cadet.
He slowly kissed Keith back, hesitantly, waiting for the moment Keith would suddenly pull back and start yelling at him for being stupid and misunderstanding the whole situation, but he didn't.
Instead, Keith returned the kiss gently, with a soft sigh that made goosebumps stand up all over Lance's body, and encouraged him to be a little bolder with his movements, until eventually, they were both lying on the bed, kissing and touching, neither wishing to stop for fear it would end.
Eventually, sheer exhaustion took over. That night was the first of many nights they found themselves drifting off in each other’s arms, after winning and losing lacklustre tussles over little spoon, succumbing with sleepy kisses, tangled legs and fingers entwined.