Work Text:
The McClain family, as extensive as it was, was never really the wealthiest. They weren’t poor, per se, but with so many mouths to feed they were hardly affluent either. They lived modestly, managed their finances carefully, and put out of their minds any/all frivolous expenses (vacations). To an outsider, such a life might have sounded melancholy, but the McClains found happiness in each other, and that was always enough. There were never any complaints—even the littlest ones understood that vacation was a rather lofty goal—but one glorious summer, the year Lance was going to turn sixteen, Mama McClain proudly announced that they had scraped together just enough to go on their first-ever family vacation. The whole household was ecstatic, from Pop-Pop to little Nadia, and their anticipation only grew when they found out that they weren't slated for a mere week-long vacation. Nor even a month-long vacation. Rather, knowing that this was likely the only family vacation they’d ever see, Mama McClain had made it count. They would be flying to the states—to Texas, specifically—and would be visiting there for the entirety of the summer. It was a magical moment. A dream come true. And thus began the tale of an adorable romance...
--------------------
August 31st
--------------------
“Stay," Keith urged him, voice low and somewhat rough, a loving whisper Lance had come to know by heart.
“I can't,” Lance whispered brokenly back. "You know I can't." He threaded his fingers through Keith’s messy black "mullet", trying to memorize every knot, every tangle, every split end. It was absurd that he'd grown to find such a style suitably attractive—even if only because Keith was the one rockin' it.
Keith frowned and held Lance even tighter. He hated that answer. He knew, realistically, that Lance couldn't stay, but acknowledgement didn't lessen the hurt. He’d already been dealt a pretty bad hand, losing both parents at a young age, and Lance was one of the rare few sparks of happiness that he had left. He didn’t want to relinquish that, too. Even though their time together had been short—only a couple months—the dynamic Cuban had made a lasting impression. Over the course of the summer, Keith had fallen deeply, madly, truly in love with him.
He remembered their "meet cute" like it was yesterday. They'd met in a crowded Texas airport. Lance had been with his family, just touching down from Cuba, and Keith (a Texas native) had been accompanying his adoptive brother, Shiro. They were waiting for Shiro’s partner, Adam, to fly in from Australia for a visit.
--------------------
Three Months Earlier
--------------------
The McClains deplaned and collected their luggage whilst Lance and the kiddos (Nadia & Silvio) surveyed the area, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Lance didn't know anybody from the states (yet), but he sure as heck wasn't going to leave things like that! He was an extrovert—no doubt about it—and if he was going to be staying here for months, he was going to need to make some new friends. He caught sight of Shiro, Adam, and Keith right as both parties were leaving the airport, thrilled to finally spot another boy who looked roughly the same age, and the rest was history.
Keith didn’t have any friends, and depending on your definition he didn’t have any family either, so Shiro was beyond pleased when he saw Lance approach looking eager to socialize. Keith was remarkably stubborn at first, abrasive and rough around the edges, but Lance had a way of breaking down even the strongest of walls. By the time they reached the parking lot, every last dredge of defiance from Keith had ebbed away. (It was easier than anticipated. All Lance did was express interest in the boy's motorbike and suddenly Keith was sold.) There was nothing Keith worshipped more than his beauty, his beloved, his "baby girl". He was all too eager to offer Lance a ride back to the town where both the McClains and the Shiroganes would be spending the summer, and after literal minutes of begging, Mama McClain finally gave in. (She was hesitant to entrust her son’s life to somebody so young—the legal driving age in Texas was a mere sixteen years of age—but she eventually gave the boys permission.) Lance was giddy. His smile put the stars to shame as he sat down on the bike, and he kept his arms wrapped tightly around Keith’s waist all the way home.
They were strikingly different individuals, foils to each other. Keith liked red, Lance liked blue. Keith liked spicy food, Lance liked sweets. Keith liked close-combat (fencing), Lance liked archery. Keith liked the stars, Lance liked the sea. And yet, despite their many differences, the two boys quickly grew to be very close. After but a single week of vacation, they were practically inseparable. On July 28th they held a celebration for Lance’s birthday together, and four days later, on the first day of the new month, Keith dug up the resolve to ask his crush to be his boyfriend. Sparks had been flying for quite a while, and with the mentality of “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it” with regard to the long-distance, Lance happily took on his new title. The following August was pure bliss, overflowing with innocent firsts and tender moments, but sadly, summer never lasts forever...
--------------------
August 31st
--------------------
“Please,” Keith repeated longingly. “Stay with me. Shiro wouldn't mind if you wanted to-"
“But Mama would,” Lance countered gently, voice strained but solemn. “I have to go home, Keith."
"I know," Keith admitted defeatedly, finally breaking the embrace and stepping back. "And I know—I know—that long-distance relationships never work out. A clean breakup..."
"It just makes sense.” Lance finished for him, equally forlorn.
“Even so...!" In a blink, Keith reached forward, impulsive as ever, to recapture Lance's soft hands in his own. They fit perfectly. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
Lance thought he had gotten any/all crying out of the way earlier, but now, after hearing those words—words that were so fundamentally Keith—new tears were threatening to break free. Truth be told, Lance wasn’t ready to say goodbye either, but maybe...
“It doesn’t have to be goodbye,” Lance stated with resolve, adopting a braver and more confident voice. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s 'til we meet again.”
“When are we ever going to meet again, Lance?” Keith sighed heavily, clearly skeptical of false hope. “We’re lucky we even ran into each other the first time.”
“Au contraire, my Samurai~” Lance had clearly worked out an inventive solution, and the earnestness that his voice carried was enough to make Keith's doubts melt away. “We’re going to meet again right here, at the terminal where we first met, at exactly 4:00 PM on this very same date.”
“...Next year?" Keith prompted uncertainly, hopeful but cautious. It sounded too good to be true. "But I thought-"
“I... wasn’t talking about next year.” Lance laughed weakly. “Ten years. If we meet and we both have families, that’s great. We’ll reconnect and brag about our happy little lives. If we meet and we’re both still sexy heckin' bachelors, that’s great too. We’ll enjoy a coffee date and see where the night takes us. It probably sounds too idealistic for your tastes, I know, but..." He smiled shyly. "I promise to remember the date if you will.”
“It’s a promise,” Keith whispered, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips, too. “There’s just one problem.”
“Hm? What?"
“I can’t wait ten years. Nine?”
“Eight.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Loverboy,” Keith breathed out, voice already carrying hints of wistful desire. “See you in eight years.”
“I’ll see you in eight years, Samurai.”
--------------------
Eight Years Later
--------------------
It was roughly 1:00 PM when Lance’s flight landed back in Texas, where (hopefully) he'd be able to catch up with his old sweetheart. He was three hours early, but rather than venturing out to kill some extra time, he simply sat down and made himself comfortable at the designated departure lounge. He burned the next few hours by watching travelers board and disembark, occasionally chatting with others at the terminal, and scrolling through his phone to pass the time with quality memes. Sadly, when the clock’s hands finally ticked over to display that it was four o’clock, Keith Kogane was nowhere to be seen.
It was a little disheartening to miss out on a cliché “right-on-time” reunion, especially since every minute that ticked by afterwards planted another seed of doubt in his mind. However! Lance wasn’t going to let a few minutes of lateness sway his resolve. Keith never broke the promises he made. That mullet-headed motorcyclist was going to meet him today, no doubt about it.
He’s probably just stuck in traffic, right?
Lance spent another two hours loitering around the airport before he started to lose hope. It’d been reasonable to assume that Keith was running late earlier, but now? Two hours was kinda pushing it. Lance was usually a positive thinker, giving people the benefit of the doubt, but there was a fine line between optimism and naivety, and Lance was ready to admit that his past love wasn’t planning on meeting him. Disappointed and hurt—way more than he should've been over someone he hadn't seen for almost a decade—he clicked on his sister’s contact and called to give her the tragic news.
“I- I don’t think he’s coming, Roni,” Lance whimpered, hoping the quaver in his voice wasn’t nearly as noticeable over the phone. “It’s been hours—plural—and he still hasn’t shown up.”
Over the phone, Veronica offered reassurances and rationalizations.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Lance visibly relaxed. “Keith wouldn’t leave me hanging like this.” A deep breath. “I’ll stay.”
It was a nice confidence boost. Maybe even too nice, because his sister’s encouragement kept him there far longer than any sane person would've stayed. He spent an additional four hours waiting for the Texan to finally show, but Keith never came and Lance eventually gave up when his phone ran out of battery. Heartbroken and resentful, the Cuban tiredly stood up and made for the exit. Guess he'd have to find a hotel for the night. He dragged his feet, forcing himself to keep moving forward even as an endless sea of questions ate away at him.
Had Keith moved on? Was he so enraptured with some new partner that Lance wasn't even worth the effort to meet? Had Keith forgotten about their promise entirely over the years? Was what they had not nearly as special to him as it was to Lance? Had Keith... died? Was he gone from everything, not just Lance's life?
That last thought terrified Lance the most.
He was annoyed about the waste of money (to buy a plane ticket) and even more annoyed about the waste of his precious time. He’d spent the entire day waiting for somebody who couldn't even be bothered to show up and give him closure. Even if all Keith had said was: "Sorry, I barely know you anymore. Not interested." Well, at least that would be something! Not knowing...
Lance hated it.
Because as douchey as Keith would be for standing him up, at least that would mean he was undoubtedly alive.
Lance sighed heavily as he approached the automatic doors that led outside. Tinted black like car windows, interestingly enough. As the gap between the automated doors grew wider, he moved to step past them, but was stopped rather forcefully when a stranger from outside careened right into him. Hard. Enough to knock him to the ground.
Wonderful. Just my luck.
“Sorry!” It was a panicked and surprisingly genuine apology, which caught Lance completely off-guard, seeing as the stranger had otherwise been rude beyond measure. Even after outright bowling Lance over, he hadn't ceased his hurry, bolting right back to his feet and not even stalling to extend a hand and help his victim up. “I’m running really, really, really late!”
A ridiculous, half-@$$ed explanation for such recklessness, but-
“H-Hey, wait!” Lance instantly sprang to his feet. He'd caught only the slightest of glimpses as the stranger passed him by, but that was more than enough. He knew that face by heart. Lance quickly sprinted after him and caught the other man’s wrist. “I’d recognize that mullet anywhere!”
Immediately, the “stranger” skidded to a stop and whirled around to face the boy that he hadn’t seen in eight whole years. Indigo met ocean blue, and Keith broke into a wide grin as soon as he confirmed with his own eyes that the man before him was the very same Lance McClain he'd dated all those years ago.
“Lance!”
“Keith!” Lance returned, sheer relief overwhelming him. Instinctively, he yanked Keith closer to wrap him in a tight embrace. “You came!”
“Of course!” Keith exclaimed breathlessly, reciprocating with equal amounts of affection and slowly letting his voice dissolve into a loving whisper. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
They were perfectly content to stay in each other’s arms for several seconds longer, soaking in the warmth and reliving the very memories that brought them back together now. Eventually, however, they broke away to more aptly take in the "view". It had been eight years, and time always brings change.
“You’re taller now,” Lance observed, recalling how sixteen-year-old Keith had been an inch or two shorter than him, “and you have a scar.”
“Motorcycle accident,” Keith explained bashfully, turning away to try to cover it with his even-longer-now, coal-black hair. Clearly, he was a little self-conscious, but Lance didn’t think it detracted from his beauty in the slightest. Kinda sexy, actually. “You’ve changed a lot, too.”
Suddenly, Lance was hyperaware that the Texan's eyes were flickering over his body without the slightest ounce of subtlety. Keith had always been blunt, but c'mon! This was way too forward! Even for him! He was blatantly—shamelessly—checking Lance out, and when he was done looking, the older boy had the audacity to let out an appreciative hum.
“Hot d@mn.”
“Keith!” Lance squeaked, rendering a playful smack to the other male's shoulder as his face went pink. “You can’t just say things like that in public!”
Lance was smiling through the reprimand though. If nothing else, the flirty remark had at least made one thing abundantly clear, and a quick glance at Keith's fingers confirmed it. No wedding ring, no engagement ring. Keith was totally single.
Perfect, that makes two of us.
Lance’s solution to the breakup had felt flawless at first. However, he'd quickly come to realize that there was one HUGE problem. What if only one of them was still single when they met up again? He’d spent countless nights worrying that Keith wouldn’t feel the same way, and that he had just been a “vacation fling” to the boy. Thankfully, it looked like those worries were far from the truth.
“Ah, sorry...” Keith blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I really shouldn’t tease you like that, huh? You’re probably with somebody else now...”
“Nope,” Lance laughed softly. “Still a single pringle.”
Keith's eyes widened like he was truly shocked to hear it, but then his expression softened and fondly he tacked on: “Yeah, me too.”
It was silent for a beat, but then both men began speaking at the same time:
“I’ve met a lot of nice girls...”
“It’s not that I haven’t been trying...”
They ended the sentence together.
“...but my mind kept wandering back to you.”
Immediately, they burst into laughter, happy and relieved to know that their feelings were mutual and that they’d been on each other’s minds for years. Keith was the first to catch his breath, but even as he started to speak, his cheeks retained that pretty pink flush. Shy and tentative, almost like he was still the same smitten schoolboy from forever ago, Keith invited Lance back to his place for the night.
“It’s, uh, a little late for coffee now," Keith coughed awkwardly, "but you’re welcome to stay over at my apartment if you need a place to spend the night." Suddenly realizing what he'd said, the flustered Texan hurried to clarify: "Not- Not like that though! I swear, I wasn't trying to-!"
"Relaaaaax, Samurai," Lance laughed wholeheartedly. "I knew what you meant."
"Oh, thank quiznak."
"Although," Lance wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Eventually..."
And as Keith snorted out a laugh and playfully flicked Lance's forehead, it was like no time had even passed between them at all.
