Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith thanks the cashier, swinging the large bag - the white logo of ‘Marmora Eats’ contrasting boldly against the dark purple of the material - over his shoulder and exits the takeaway, the smell of curry disappearing as the door clicks shut behind him. He checks the address and shakes his head. How could one house order so much food so often? And why was he always landed with the job? Grumbling to himself, he unlocks his bike and takes off in the familiar direction.

After a few minutes of cycling through the streets in quiet bliss, a loud bell rings from behind him. Keith’s chest tightens. That obnoxious bell could only belong to one person: Lance, from Voltron deliveries. A moment passes before Lance - in his windswept, ocean eyed glory - pulls into line beside him, his white helmet gleaming from the glow of the streetlamps.

Keith had come to know Lance through a rather unusual series of events.

“Yo!” Keith turned his head to see another cyclist behind him. “Is that a mullet?”

Keith glanced at the road once before fixing his eyes back on the stranger.

“Excuse me?”

Apparently this guy took that as a ‘I can’t hear you’ rather than a ‘why the hell are you trying to have a conversation with me’. Before Keith knew what was happening, he was face to face with the random cyclist who, Keith observed, was donned in fluorescent pink gear.

“I said ‘is that a mullet?’” He repeated. Keith just peered at him curiously. Obviously frustrated, the stranger gestured to his head. “It’s poking out from under your helmet. It’s not the eighties y’know.”

“I’m sorry, do I know you,” Keith asked incredulously. The stranger shook his head.

“Nope! Just trying to make some conversation. I’m Lance. Voltron Deliveries.”

“Keith. Marmora Eats.” Keith’s reply was blunt but he didn’t care. The sooner he shook this guy the better. He had work to do.

“Marmora Eats? We’re rivals right?” It takes Keith a minute to realise what he was trying to say.

“I guess?” He shrugged, eyes glancing down to his phone screen - which was attached to his handlebars - to check he was going the right way. Lance noticed this.

“Where’s your stop?” His eyes fill with panic suddenly. “Shit, wait, is that confidential? I’m new to this, sorry--”

“Wait, no, you’re fine. Street names don’t really matter,” Keith sighed, accepting he was going to have company for a while. “I’m headed to Arus Gardens. Super rich family - I’ve ended up there a few times.”

“Lance let out a gasp. “Mine’s for Arus Gardens too! Not your exact house, I’m sure, but the same area at least. This is so cool, who’d have guessed it?”

Not me that's for sure, Keith thought.

When they reached Arus Gardens, both cyclists split off halfway down the main street of the cul de sac. Their customers lived straight across the road from each other. Typical.

“Here you go ma’am, enjoy your evening.” Keith handed over the bags to a stout, older woman who thanked him and gave him a generous tip. Keith loved rich neighbourhoods.

It wasn’t until the next week that he saw Lance again and, sure enough, both of them were headed to Arus Gardens.

”Marmora mullet man!” Keith could not believe this guy. Once again he pulled in beside him on the thin cycle path, fluorescent pink gear replaced with bright green which made Keith’s eyes hurt for a few seconds.

“Hi. And it’s Keith.”

“Right. Sorry, names take a while to stick for me. I’m Lance, if you’d forgotten as well,” Lance explained. Keith, to his surprise, hadn’t forgotten. Flashes of blue eyes and wide smiles had been living behind his eyelids rent free that week.

“I know who you are. What do you want?”

“Hey, no need to be so grumpy.” Lance scowled but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I assume you’re dropping off at Arus?”

“Yup.” Keith nodded reluctantly.

“So am I, once again. This is fate, Keith, I’m telling you.” Lance smirked. He cleared his throat, “Anyway, why don’t we race? I know a few shortcuts. It’ll be fun.”

Keith shot him a look.

“Are you joking? Lance, we’re working right now.”

“You’re just scared that you’ll lose,” Lance pushed, eyes locked with Keith’s. “No one can beat Blue.”

He gestured to his bike. Keith felt a streak of competitiveness spark in his gut. He was going to leave Lance in the dust.

“Fine,” he grumbled, ignoring Lance’s cheer of victory. “Let’s go.”

Both of them sped off in the direction of Arus Gardens. Both households were rather impressed with the delivery time and Keith received another lovely tip. Nice.

“Keith, my man.” Lance lifts one hand in a small salute. He no longer wore an abundance of bright colours but instead had his bike decorated with multiple flashing lights. They danced in the darkness of the street.

“Evening, Lance,” he replies, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. “You off to Arus again?”

“Yeah,” Lance concedes. “How they can afford all this beats me. I have like… fifty dollars in my bank account and that’s probably how much they spend on takeout in three days alone. Where are you headed?”

Keith bites down a grin as he realises they’re going the same way. Again. He should probably expect it by now. “Their richer neighbours.”

“Yes!” Lance beams, “Guess you’re stuck with me for another few miles then.”

“Guess so.” Keith registers how close Lance’s front wheel is getting to his own. “You really shouldn’t be in the middle of the road; a car could appear at any moment and squish you. Or our wheels could collide and we’d both end up in a joint ward in the hospital with broken arms and empty pockets.”

“Here’s hoping,” Lance quips back, showing Keith his crossed fingers, his other hand steady on his handlebars. Keith fixes him with a frown and Lance rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Keith, how many times have I done this? Plus, I can’t see any death machines nearby so I think I’m good. And as long as you don’t purposely crash into my bike...”

Keith glances to him briefly before his eyeline drifts back to the street which is, indeed, empty. Silence passes between the two and Keith hears Lance’s fingers tapping out a rhythm on his knee as he steers the bike one-handed with ease. Keith knows he can’t stand silence. He has many a time been subject to Lance’s blabbering as he searches for something to say. Lance’s persistent tapping unlocks a memory from a few weeks ago.

“The band,” he blurts out, taking Lance by surprise (if the slight swerve of his bike is anything to go by) and he fumbles over his next words, “I mean-- how’s that band of your’s going? The...um…”

“The Blue Lions?” Lance smiles and Keith nods. “Yeah, good actually. My friend let us play in his garage, it’s massive so it works pretty well. Fits the drums and keys and the three of us, I mean, what else could we ask for? Pidge is bugging me for a smoke machine but I don’t think it would be entirely responsible letting one of those off in there. Shiro would come down and kick each of our asses personally.”

Keith almost flies off his bike he brakes so hard. Lance sails on, head whipping back in confusion. Keith’s eyes widen and he pedals swiftly to catch up with him.

“Did you say Shiro?” Lance nods hesitantly. Keith stares, “What’s his full name?”

“Um, Takashi Shirogane. Why?” Lance’s eyes are full of concern. Keith doesn’t know how to feel.

“That garage your band has rehearsal in? It’s my brother’s.” Now it was Lance’s turn to be shocked. His jaw goes slack.

“Are you kidding me?” Then he gasps, “Keith! We have a mutual friend!”

Keith raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t really know if friend really cuts it. He’s my annoying older brother who acts like he’s a forty year old when he’s really twenty seven.”

“But still,” Lance almost squeals out, “How did we not realise this until now? It’s been how many months?”

Keith watches as he counts out the time in his head.

“Three,” he supplies. Lance’s head whips around to him, both eyebrows raised. His expression melts into one of excitement.

“Aw, Keith, we’ve been rival delivery partners for three months! I should get you some flowers to celebrate. Get some champagne and a gorgeous Italian dinner.”

Keith freezes for a moment, trying to figure out if Lance is being serious. He doesn’t look any different than usual so Keith settles with:

“Yeah, maybe.” Lance’s face falters for a moment but he quickly gathers himself and focuses on his task. Another silence follows.

“I still can’t believe you know Shiro. It’s a small world, huh.” Lance pipes up. Keith catches his eye briefly.

“It certainly is. Here we are.” They reach the turning into Arus Gardens, Lance going first as usual, Keith tailing him.

Five minutes later, Keith is back on his bike, the satisfying weight of the tip in his pocket putting a smile on his face. He waits for Lance to meet him and they head back to the main road.

“Are you done for the day,” Lance asks him once they’ve safely turned.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yup.”

“Cool.” Keith stares at his handlebars for a moment, replaying their conversation from earlier. Three months. He takes a deep breath. “I can cycle home with you. Fill you in on some stories of Shiro in high school?”

He lifts his head to see Lance beaming.

“Yeah,” he replies. “That would be nice.”

Chapter Text

It has been six days since Keith cycled Lance home (not that he’s been counting) and he still hasn’t shown up. Yesterday, Keith had watched in shock as a woman with blond locs sped past him, the large Voltron Deliveries ‘V’ emblazoned on her large bag, and had dropped the contents off at Lance’s usual stop in Arus Gardens.

He tells himself it’s fine and that Lance has probably just been given new addresses. Sometimes Keith is offered a change in routine but he always turns it down because - although it had taken him a while to admit it - he really enjoys Lance’s company, their regular, unplanned meetings settling well into his work routine. He didn’t want to miss it.

Maybe his stunt last week had been too much and made Lance decide he never wanted to see Keith again? He completes the rest of his round as quickly as possible, the thought brewing in his brain.

Another three days pass and there’s still no sign of Lance and his lack of presence is having a detrimental effect on Keith’s mood. His classes are beginning to take over all his free time and seeing Lance had been a welcome escape. Now, the stress works him up with ease and Keith broke several pencils and pens the last week. So, after another lonely ride, Keith pulls in at his brother’s house. He can only hope he has some news.

After three raps on the door, Shiro emerges, a coffee in hand and his reading glasses perched on his nose.

“Keith?” He obviously wasn’t expecting a visit, let alone at ten in the evening.

“Do you know what happened to Lance?” Keith skips the pleasantries and Shiro must sense the panic, as he quickly backs away from the door, allowing Keith to slip past him.

“Lance?” Shiro turns to him once they enter the living room. “As in my Lance?”

“Tall, loud, owns a practically glowing bike considering the amount of lights he puts on the bloody thing.” Keith flops down onto the old couch. “Where’s Curtis by the way?”

“He’s asleep. He just got back from a meeting and was absolutely exhausted. I suggested an early night might be beneficial.” Shiro smiles warmly, “He was out in seconds. Anyway, about Lance-- wait, how do you even know Lance?”

Keith is taken aback. Lance didn’t flaunt his newly required blackmail in front of his brother?

“Oh, well, long story short - we ended up delivering to the same neighbourhood regularly. He doesn’t like silence, so we talked loads. We only just found out the other day we had you in common though.”

“So you’re the mystery man he’s been fawning over for months?”

“He’s been what?” Keith feels his cheeks flare up. Shiro just smirks at him.

“It all makes sense now. If I recall correctly he thinks you’re 'grumpy but adorable'.”

Keith blinks, shaking his head and returning to the reason for his visit, “Look, do you know where he is? He hasn’t shown up in nine days. I saw him on Wednesday last week and then he was gone.”

“Right. Look, there’s no easy way to say this really but-” Shiro takes a breath- “He got hit by a van. On Thursday. The day after he saw you.”

“What?” Keith’s stomach drops. Hit by a van? But didn’t he stick to the cycle lane? Surely-- His mind reminds him helpfully of Lance’s habit of cruising into the road when he chatted away to Keith. Maybe he wasn’t his only ‘delivery rival friend’ after all. But that wasn’t the thing to focus on.

“What happened? Is he-- is he hurt?”

“Fractured arm,” Shiro explains, “He has to wait eight weeks before he can work again.”

“But, Shiro, he needs the money.” Keith recalls one of Lance’s many rants on college fees and his abundance of debt and how he refuses to let his parents spend any more on him because they had already done enough. And now he probably has the hospital bill to fret over.

“It’s all sorted, never fear.” Shiro places a mug of coffee on the table in front of him - he must have popped through into the adjoining kitchen during their discussion. Keith takes it gratefully, the heat calming his shaking hands.

“Okay.” Keith takes a sip and grins into the mug. Shiro isn't particularly skilled in any other culinary area but he has to admit that his brother can make a mean cup of coffee. “Is he home now?”

“Yeah, he is. I visited him a few days ago, just to check in. He wouldn’t stop rambling on about missing out on his ‘sessions’ with his ‘work friend’. I can now assume you are said friend.”

Keith sputters in shock, once again, choking on his coffee. He gathers himself and says,

“I might go and see him.”

“Tomorrow, I trust." Shiro raises an eyebrow, "Don’t interrupt his precious beauty sleep, he’d probably try and attack you, broken arm or not.”

“Yeah,” Keith tries to hide his small smile but to no avail, he realises, as Shiro shoots him a smug look. Keith clears his throat, “Could I get his address?”

“Sure.” Shiro pulls his phone from his pocket and Keith hears the vibration of the notification coming from his bag. On his way out, however, Shiro whispers quickly to him, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly how to get to his house from when you - and I quote - ‘walked him home but on a bike’.”

Keith ignores him. He’s just about to pick up said bike when Shiro’s garage catches his eye.

“Hey, Shiro? Can I have a look in here? Lance told me about his band and I just wanna…”

“Snoop? Sure,” Shiro laughs and grabs some keys from a hook in the hallway. Taking a step back, Keith watches as Shiro unlocks the door and pulls up the front of the garage to reveal… chaos. The large drum kit and keyboard are plastered with small, handmade logos of ‘The Blue Lions’. A guitar lies in the corner by the keys.

“Is this…?” Keith lifts the blue painted acoustic up carefully.

“That’s Lance’s guitar. Bethany.”

“Bethany?”

“Yup. His electric is called Carl. Both named after childhood crushes or something.” Keith glances at Shiro who he can tell is purposefully not meeting his eye. Both characters were from a discontinued television programme - Rhythm Kids - infamous for the number of guys who had weddings with Bethany all planned out and girls who were head over heels in love with Carl. But Bethany and Carl? Keith stares as Shiro continues, “The kit is called Fiona and Pidge refuses to name their keyboard. Says it’s weird.”

He chuckles to himself. Keith sets Bethany down gently before standing again and exiting the garage in silence. Shiro pulls the door shut with a thud.

“Thanks for helping me out. It’s been really helpful.”

“I bet,” Shiro says with a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows. Keith sends his brother a last glare but accepts the brisk hug. He picks up his bike.

“I’ll be over soon,” he calls before kicking up his pedal and riding off.

Tomorrow couldn’t come quicker.

Chapter Text

Lance almost melts as the scent hits his nose.

“Hunk, I love you so much.”

“I know,” Hunk smiles. He passes the plate of fresh garlic knots to Lance who cradles it close to his chest, popping one into his mouth. His eyes widen. Hunk notices, supplying Lance with a: “They’re hot.”

Lance happily accepts the glass of water Hunk hands to him. His healing arm lies across his lap in his cast, as limp as a wet noodle. A few, various scribbles were dotted over the plaster from Hunk, Pidge and his family. His mamá let his niece and nephew loose with felt tips but not after she had given him a harsh lecture in angry but loving spanish.

“Thanks, no matter how mild a burnt tongue is in comparison to this, I don’t really need another injury.”

He feels way better today. Exhausted, yeah, but happier. One didn’t just recover from getting hit by a lovely drunk lady who just happened to be driving a massive van. He had actually been cycling in the designated lane (his daredevil trips into the road took place when Keith was around and only then) but that hadn’t done much to stop the sudden swerve of the vehicle and consequent crunch of Lance’s arm as it got caught between the road and his wheel. Lance winces as his injured arm seems to twinge with the memory.

His attention is drawn away from his flashback to Hunk’s reappearance at his bedroom door.

“Um, you have a visitor?” Hunk shrugs and Lance sits up a little. Who on earth--? His question is answered as the door opens.

“Wha- Keith??” Lance subtly tries to smooth down his hair with his good hand.

“Hi.” Keith looks like a deer caught in the headlights, if Lance is honest. Keith being Keith, he probably didn’t think this through.

“Why are you here? You lonely?” He tilts his head at Keith who is still frozen.

“Huh?”

Lance rolls his eyes,

“Did you miss me? That would explain why you’re here, right?” Lance knows he should probably stop harassing Keith with questions but seeing the stupid guy who he likes a lot in the middle of all this takes him off guard. “If you haven’t noticed I’ve been out for like a week, I think? I would’ve thought you’d at least--”

“Ten days,” Keith interrupts as he finds his words, “You’ve been off the job for ten days.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence follows.

“You want a garlic knot, Keith?” Hunk makes his presence known again. Both Lance and Keith’s heads flick to him, both forgetting he’d been there throughout their entire reunion.

“Yeah, actually, that would be great. Thank you…”

“Hunk.”

“Right, yeah,” Keith starts, gesturing to Hunk’s head, “Headband man who makes good food.”

“What?” Hunk tilts his head. Keith stills again.

“I-I mean, um, that’s just how I have you in my head after all of Lance’s stories.”

Lance laughs. His joy is replaced with mortification, however, as Hunk says:

“Aw, Lance, you told your boyfriend about me?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Both he and Keith shout, glancing at each other sheepishly. God, Lance thinks to himself, I wish.

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” Lance can tell Hunk certainly does not. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it. Have fun.”

The door shuts. Lance turns back to Keith who has sunk into a chair at the foot of his bed, cheeks still rosy - that fact not escaping Lance eyes. He has his knee pulled towards and rests his chin on it, indigo eyes trained on the floor. Lance narrows his eyes.

“So, you going to answer, mullet? How did you find me? How did you know I was hurt?” Keith’s head jerks up.

“I literally walked you-- um, cycled you home the other day. This neighbourhood isn’t exactly a maze. And I asked Shiro yesterday. He told me everything. I just wanted to check in.”

“Oh, yeah -- brothers. I keep forgetting that. You don’t look anything alike.”

“Well I would hope not,” Keith grins, “He’s ugly and I’m adopted.”

Lance sputters out a laugh himself.

“One, he is not ugly. And, two, how come I never knew this?”

“You don’t know everything there is to know about me, Lance.” Keith raises an eyebrow. Lance only realises now that he has a bike helmet in his hands.

“Well I think we should change that so there are no more surprises. Get to know all the deep stuff.”

“Like childhood crushes?” Keith’s voice takes on a sly tone. Lance peers at him in suspicion.

“What do you know, Keith?”

“I met Bethany.” Lance’s stomach drops in embarrassment. Why, Shiro? He covers it up.

“And? I loved Rhythm Kids as a child. Did you not?”

“Of course I did. Does your electric stay with you? Carl?” Keith is smirking. Shiro is dead when I can move my arm, Lance thinks.

“Yeah, he’s in the living room. And, before you joke about it, yes I loved them both. They are a stunning pair. Plus, you can’t tell me you didn’t love one of them. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a date planned out with Bethany.”

“I didn’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“But,” Keith stares at his hand, “Me and Carl were going to have matching tuxes... at our space themed wedding.”

Lance’s brain stops working. Then it reboots. And then the laughter comes.

“What? A space wedding?” He guffaws. Keith stares at him with a deadpan expression as his neck flushes. “Matching tuxes? That is too good, mullet.”

“Stop laughing.” Keith now sports a heavy blush.

“I can’t!” Lance forces out between giggles. “It's too sweet.”

“There was going to be a lot of huskies, somehow, and waiters dressed as aliens. It was a very well thought out event,” Keith grumbles.

That just sets Lance off again.

Keith is on his final route the following night when a familiar address catches his eye. What the hell?

He slowly pulls up outside Lance’s house and makes his way up the path, order in hand. He rings the doorbell, after a second of hesitation, and takes a step back.

Almost immediately the door swings open and Lance is there in his lanky, pyjamaed glory, practically glowing despite the fact he’s in lion slippers.

“Hey,” he greets. Keith snaps out of his reverie.

“Hi. I got your food?” Keith hands the package to him. Lance accepts it and places it on the floor behind him. He turns back to Keith with a smirk. Keith tilts his head.

“Did you put in a special request for me to deliver it?”

“Yeah,” Lance says matter-of-factly. Keith stares.

“Really? Why?”

“Is this your last stop?”

“No, unfortunately. I still have Arus Gardens and a few more stops after that on the way home. I really need to get this assignment done and I have, like, no time at the moment.”

“Oh.” Keith glances up. Lance is pouting (which should not be as pretty as it is) and he lets out a long sigh before his smile returns, a little softer. “Never mind.”

“Okay?" Keith furrows his brows in confusion before descending the steps. "Night, Lance. Enjoy your food.”

“Good night, Keith.” Lance holds eyes contact and Keith breaks it after a few seconds and turns around. The door clicks shut behind him and Keith spares it a second look before he cycles away. Stupid, gorgeous, kind, blue-eyed boy.

A few days later Keith receives a message:

Gave Lance ur number. He was v persistent. Prepare urself.

Keith’s eyes widen at the text from his brother. What exactly did he mean? Prepare for what? The questions build in his mind as the time passes. Still no message from Lance. Had Shiro missed a digit when he forwarded it over? Why was Keith so nervous? He had spoken to Lance in person enough. This shouldn’t send his heart into overdrive. Nothing had even been said yet.

He pulls up in his brother’s driveway -- he had a catch up scribbled in the calendar for today anyway and he thinks Shiro could get rid of the anxiety brewing in his chest. He opens the door and scuffs his boots on the mat.

“Please tell me you’re dating.”

Keith’s head snaps up and he realises he is face to face with Curtis. Keith narrows his eyes, faking confusion.

“Who would I be dating?”

“Oh my god, Shiro, they’re not boyfriends yet,” Curtis whines and Keith follows him into the living room, praying his red cheeks disappear. Boyfriends. With Lance. Keith swallows.

“You’re kidding. Keith, come one,” Shiro immediately groans from his chair. Keith gives him a look and takes a seat himself.

“Hello to you too, brother dearest. And what do you mean?” He decides he may as well keep up the pretense. That would at least calm his nerves a little.

“Lance, Keith. Your cute bike-partner-loverboy. I gave you his number. I assume you’ve been texting all weekend. Why is it not official? Curtis and I want all the details. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t cancel this catch up date.” Keith is incredulous.

“Shiro, I don’t know what you thought was going to happen but I can tell you truthfully I have not received a single text from--”

Ding!

Keith stops in his tracks, bringing his phone from his coat pocket, a series of messages form an unknown number. Speak of the devil.

hey man, it’s lance
dyou wanna hang out this weekend? ik u have hw n shit but ur good company n i’m so bored
i’d hang out w u if i wasn’t bored too tho!! dw :)

“So?” Curtis’ eyebrows rise suggestively.

“He wants to hang out.”

The couple across from him cheer. Shiro looks thoughtful.

“I can’t believe he only asked you now. He usually leaps at chances to chat up people he likes.”

“I--what?” Keith runs a hand through his hair. Sure, he’d noticed Lance’s not-so-subtle gazes and Keith laughed at his pick up lines but Keith thought he was joking. He had assumed he was seeing what he wanted to see.

“Lance is into you, trust me. He was over here the other day for his band practice,” Shiro explained, “He can’t play but his vocal chords are still very much intact. I’m pretty sure he wrote you a song.”

Keith blanches. The thought does weird things to his heart. Turning back to his phone, he gathers all the courage and boldness he can and types a reply.

that sounds great. it’s a date :)

Shiro casually ducks to avoid the phone which subsequently flies in his direction.

Chapter Text

“Shiro, should I have said that? I said ‘date’ that’s surely the wrong wording, right?” Keith has fetched his phone from it’s place on the floor and stares at the screen, reloading it over and over until- “Oh, god, he replied.”

“Well?” Curtis edges closer on his chair.

“He said: ‘Perfect. Does one work for you?’ -- does one work for me?”

“Yes. Tell him yes, Keith.” Shiro nods.

Keith looks panicked and Shiro can’t help but let out a breath of laughter. It’s only when his brother glances at him that Shiro realises just how truly scared he looks. He drops the smile and takes a seat beside Keith.

“It’s all very well saying that but am I? I don’t have any classes but I have notes to redo and--”

“He said that was fine, though, didn’t he? He just wanted company. Specifically your company, Keith. Remember, it’s only Lance.”

Keith takes a shaky breath and Shiro sees a smile peek through the fearful expression.

“Yeah, okay. It’s only Lance.”

*

Saturday afternoon comes soon enough. It is a gorgeous day, the sun beaming down relentlessly on the pavements. Keith ties his hair up in an attempt to cool off a little, moving around his hall, making sure everything looks somewhat presentable.

Just then, the doorbell chimes and Keith takes a shaky breath. Swinging the door open, it reveals Lance’s beaming face, flushed from the heat. He’s carrying a few books and has a blue hair clip pinning his fringe back. Keith suddenly can’t come up with a single word.

“Um, hey.” Lance waves a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Keith?”

“Hi,” Keith snaps to attention, stepping aside to let Lance slide in. Their shoulders brush and the crackle of electricity almost makes Keith jump. Static from Lance’s baby blue cardigan - surely.

Lance is looking at him expectantly when he turns to face him after shutting the door. Right, they were casually hanging out in Keith’s house. The usual.

“Where to, mullet?”

“My bedroom’s through there,” Keith explains, gesturing to the second door on the right. Lance’s face immediately sports a devious grin and he tilts his head.

“Wow, if you wanted me in your bed so bad, Keith, you only had to ask.” Keith feels his face heat up like a furnace. He knows Lance can see it too.

“What the hell, Lance,” he breathes out finally, smiling. “How can you say that so casually, oh my god.”

Lance only laughs and rounds the corner into his room. Him and his pretty face now have Keith thinking things he definitely shouldn't. He’s got work to do dammit!

He joins Lance in his room, flops onto his bed and reaches for his laptop, clicking the mouse pad repeatedly until it turns on.

“Patience yields focus, man.” Lance is watching him in amusement.

“Don’t pull a Shiro on me.”

“How could I not? You’re probably the reason he says that so much.”

Keith rolls his eyes - because it’s true - and turns back to the screen. He opens his dissertation document and immediately loses interest. Lance is stalking around his room, peering at all his photos and posters on the walls - not that there’s many. Keith notices the hair clip again.

“I like your accessory.”

“My what?” Lance whips around to face him, confusion lacing his features. Keith gestures to his hair. Lance glances at his reflection in his mirror and his face falls. He reaches to take it out. “Ah, sorry, Sylvio and Nadia are both really into ‘dress up’ at the moment.”

“No, wait, leave it in. It suits you,” Keith smirks. And it really does, it brings out his eyes. Keith winces, cringing at his own thoughts. Lance lets out a huff and takes a seat beside him on the bed.

“I’m in ‘Tío Lance mode’ today. My brother’s kids needed watching and of course everyone else is busy. I love them to bits, though, so it makes up for it. My sister in law got me this cardigan a few years ago so I always wear it to keep in her good books when I’m over for babysitting.”

“You’re cute.” Keith doesn’t really mean for it to slip out. There is a lull where his eyes meet Lance’s for a whole five seconds of silence until Lance blinks and lets out a nervous chuckle. Keith focuses his attention back on his work. “Tell me about your family. It seems huge.”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Lance smiles softly. Keith’s knees go weak.

Lance starts with his abuela who is - according to him - a short woman with plenty of white hair and a temper. Keith listens to every description, drinking it all in while also letting it sink into the background as he works. Lance’s company is calming and Keith can’t help but think how he could get used to spending time with Lance.

-

Eventually, Keith’s studying session comes to an impromptu finish as he and Lance sit on the bed across from each other playing a rather interesting medley of icebreaker games.

“Would you rather die by burning, freezing or drowning?” Keith prompts.

“Yeesh, jumping right on in there, huh?” Lance raises an eyebrow, “Also, aren’t there meant to be only two options?”

“Never mind that, you got an answer?”

“Freeze, I think. Obviously I’d rather die at the ripe old age of one hundred and two but--”

“That’s not an option.” They participate in a five second stare down before Lance lets out a huff.

“Anyway, moving on, truth or dare?”

“I can’t be bothered getting up so... truth, I guess.”

“Okay. Have you ever broken a bone? Obviously I have.” Lance smirks, lifting his cast. Keith’s head lands in his hands.

“I’ve broken my arm once and my collarbone three times,” he says with a wince. Lance squawks.

“Three times? Different sides or...”

Keith shakes his head, pointing to his right collarbone.

“This one every time.”

“How?” Lance laughs in disbelief.

“I actually don’t remember all of them. A bunk bed had something to do with at least one.”

“Oh my god. To be honest I’m not surprised. You seem like the reckless type.”

Keith’s head snaps up.

“Oh and you aren’t? You’re the one who never cycles in the lane. You broke your arm because of it.”

“I--what? I always cycle in the lane,” Lance admits, eyebrows furrowing, “The only time I don’t is when I’m with you.”

Keith’s heart jumps up to his throat. The admission is not in any way romantically coded but his pulse picks up regardless.

“Really? Then, how did you--”

“Drunk driver. Very lovely but absolutely hammered.” Lance’s tone is wistful and Keith sees him draw his arm closer. An idea sprouts in Keith’s mind.

“Can I write on your cast?” He points to it. Lance’s smile returns. Keith mentally applauds himself for an effective subject change.

“Yeah, of course. If you can find the room. Got a pen?”

Yes, Keith does, as a matter of fact. He unscrews the cap and shuffles closer so he can reach Lance’s forearm. He tries desperately - and fails - to ignore their close proximity.

As he searches for something to write or doodle, he hears Lance’s breath hitch and glances up. Lance’s blue eyes are wide and he stares straight into Keith’s own eyes. His heartbeat starts to accelerate but then Lance leans back a little and his gaze wanders off. Keith, swallowing, turns his attention back to the cast.

After a moment of thought, he scribbles onto the cast, his red sharpie jumping out boldly among the various other notes and names. Once he’s finished, he sits back on the heels on his palms, admiring his work.

“All done.”

Lance glances down at the new addition and a surprised chuckle slips from his lips.

“‘You should see the other guy’. Very original. I wasn’t even in a fight.”

“No one has to know that,” Keith shrugs. “Also, I’m kind of shocked you can make out my handwriting. People usually have a hard time with it.”

“I try my best.” Lance tilts his head, smirk wide and eyes shining with smugness.

The two of them settle back into a comfortable eb and flow of conversation. Keith pushes the awkward encounter from earlier out of his mind, instead watching Lance - in his fuzzy blue cardigan and blue hair clip - as he explains what Keith guesses is supposed to be an elephant drawing that his niece drew with glitter gel pens. Keith listens.

Chapter Text

Today is monumental, Lance thinks, for today is the day he goes back to work. After weeks of sitting around not being able to do half the things he would consider to be fun he was finally free! His cast had been removed yesterday and Lance had rejoiced at its disappearance - though he had Hunk take a photo for the memories, making sure a certain note scribbled in a certain red sharpie was visible.

He soaks in the sun as he speeds down the road to his first pickup. Working the summer months are always the best and, although Lance loves the rain, he enjoys not getting drenched every evening no matter how funny it makes Keith’s hair look.

He enters the takeaway and the cashier hands him a jumble of packages, all with the different addresses labelled. Lance sends her quick smile, punching the street names into his phone before heading out to his first stop. He had never realised how comforting the routine of this was until now.

It’s almost two hours of cycling alone, weaving his way through identical streets and depositing his cargo until he spots him. He ends up back on the main street, the stretch of tarmac running right through the suburban landscape, and notices the familiar red bike and the even more familiar rider ahead of him. Lance tries to distinguish the flutter of nerves that jump in his stomach as he draws closer to Keith.

“Yoohoo,” he calls and watches in amusement and Keith whips his head around, an expression of surprise adorning his features. He is as beautiful as ever. Just Lance’s luck.

“Lance.” Keith’s statement comes out in one breath and his jaw is hanging unhinged until he seems to remember himself and faces the path in front of him. Lance has missed this. He goes to slide out onto the road so as to avoid colliding with Keith’s back wheel but is stopped by his companion’s yelp of: “Stop!”

He locks eyes with Keith for a moment and stares in shock as he slides out, taking Lance’s usual place on the road. Lance pedals forward into the cycle lane and raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that for,” he asks. Keith looks at him, flabbergasted.

“Isn’t it obvious? I would really like you not to get squished by a truck again,” he explains. “I wasn’t there last time and I’d rather that, while I’m here at least, you stay in the lane where it’s safe.”

Lance is at a loss for words for a moment, taken back by Keith’s bold sincerity. He ignores the butterflies in his ribcage and smirks.

“Aw, mullet, you do care! I doubt you’ll be able to stop drunk drivers who are going fifty miles an hour though.”

“Just let them try,” Keith says quietly and they slip into laughter, a comfortable atmosphere settling over them.

Lance grins at the bills in his hand. He had missed Arus Gardens and their rich patrons. Sure, Coran had been incredibly generous to keep paying him his weekly wages but the satisfaction of getting hefty tips was hard to beat. He beams when he sees Keith pull out of the opposite driveway and meets him at the top of the road.

“Last stop?”

“No.” Keith shakes his head. “I have one more.”

“Mind if I tag along?” The question evidently takes Keith off guard as he freezes. Lance stares at his hands. Maybe that was pushing it? He glances back to Keith who seems to snap from his frozen state and nods, settling the anxiety in Lance’s gut.

The delivery takes several minutes and soon Lance and Keith are on their way home. Keith offers to cycle him back and obviously Lance isn’t going to deny the chance to spend more time with him.

“It’s weird to have you back,” Keith says. At Lance’s glance he fumbles, “It’s a good weird, don’t worry. It was way too quiet without you.”

“Aw, Keith, you flatter me. I missed you too.”

“I didn’t say that. We saw each other last week.” Keith has a flush high on his cheeks.

“Sure,” Lance chuckles, not convinced.

They pull up outside Lance’s house and dismount. Lance knows Hunk will be waiting for him so he turns to bid Keith adieu but finds him closer than expected. Lance’s eyes widen in surprise. Keith practically glows in the golden rays of the sunset and Lance can’t help but shuffle forward a fraction.

He watches Keith carefully and thinks for a moment that he might stay -- that he’ll cross the line of friends into something more. But, almost immediately, Keith sways back before Lance can say or do anything and hops back on his bike.

“I just remembered I have something to do.” His words are strained and Lance’s heart feels empty. He pushes away, beginning to pedal. “See you later.”

“Bye,” Lance replies quietly as he turns the corner, riding out of sight. He doubts Keith hears him.

It’s confirmed. Keith is an idiot. And crushing hard on Lance. He’s also on the verge of tears and possibly a very cruel person. Fuck.

Having Lance back had been great. Keith had been telling the truth when he said so. The evenings he had spent alone had helped him appreciate how much he enjoyed Lance’s company and hanging out with him during the weeks he was stuck in his cast had helped him to realise how much he cared for Lance - cheesy one liners and ramblings and all.

He cycles around the block from Lance’s house in a blinding panic and perches himself on the curb, staring at his phone and trying to decide whether going back and attempting to explain himself is a good plan. Probably not. Keith doesn’t know if he can cope with an answer he can’t stomach right now. Rejection from Lance now would most definitely break him.

Wide, blue eyes - full of confusion and surprise - paint the back of his eyelids and Keith hates that he couldn’t find it in himself to be brave. Hates that he cares this much about someone who was never meant to be anything more than a casual acquaintance. Lance had no right to worm his way into his heart but, of course, he did it anyway.

A few minutes pass and, eventually, Keith decides to do the one thing he has drilled into his brain to do when he needs help.

Shiro picks up after two rings.

Half an hour later, his brother opens his door to a Keith whose cheeks are covered in tears.

“Keith?” The breath is knocked out of him as Keith collides with his chest, wrapping his arms around his middle. A cup of coffee and a few minutes later, Keith feels significantly calmer. Shiro and Curtis sit on either side of him on their bed upstairs.

“This probably seems pathetic but I like him so much that it’s scary. I don’t think I’ve felt this way about anyone but I really don’t want to ruin our friendship. I’d rather stay friends than lose him forever.”

“But, Keith, he likes you too. I’ve seen it. We both have,” Shiro says. Curtis nods in agreement with his husband’s words. Keith sighs.

“If you’re right, he probably thinks I’m toying with his feelings as if they don’t mean anything.” Keith pushes his hair from his face. “And, of course, they do.”

“What are you going to do,” Curtis asks. Keith shrugs.

“I don’t know. I feel like I should call or, at least, text him but at the same time I’d rather explain in person?” Shiro nods in understanding.

“Are you working tomorrow? Is Lance?”

“Yeah, he should be.” Keith smiles to himself, plan formulating in his head. “I’ll stay out all night. I’ll find him and explain everything.”

Hopefully Lance would listen.

Lance replays the evening’s events over and over in his head. Keith’s face in the sunset, so close, and Lance’s slight movement that sent him running for the hills. Lance curses, sitting up and drawing his knees to his chest.

Liking Keith is like playing with fire. Unpredictable and extreme. It can go two ways. Either Keith likes him back, which Lance is doubtful of after what happened tonight, and their relationship is passionate and fiery and fun. Or he doesn’t and the entire friendship they had - which Lance treasured - ends in charred pieces neither of them can recognise.

He probably made Keith extremely uncomfortable. The thought makes him feel ill - that’s the last thing he’d ever want to do. So he does what he thinks is the right thing to do.

“Hey, Coran? Do you have any of the alternate routes available?”

“Lance, what are you doing?” Hunk pops his head through the doorway. Lance hasn’t informed him of his idiocy yet so he just shushes him, taking in Coran's explanations on the other side of the line.

“Five miles? Yeah I can make that work. Thanks, Coran. Bye.”

He turns to Hunk who is staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Lance, did you just-- but it’s your first day back? What happened?”

Lance spills everything with little hesitation. The shock in Keith’s eyes, the guilt building in his stomach. Hunk suggests they partake in a Star Wars movie marathon which Lance agrees is a good plan, laughing wetly. Complaining about the existence of Jar-Jar and admiring Hayden Christensen is a welcome distraction. He drifts off on the sofa halfway into A New Hope.

Chapter Text

It has been two days since he decided to come clean to Lance and Keith is getting a cruel sense of deja vu. Except, this time, he knows exactly why Lance hasn’t shown up. It's his fault, really.

Yesterday he had brushed it off, making excuses for Lance’s absence. He had food poisoning, there was a family emergency, Hunk had died. Maybe it was one of his nights off? But Keith knows Lance’s working schedule off by heart so he knows that can't be true.

Now, he realises Lance’s lack of presence is purposeful. He must have switched routes or work days or quit altogether (though Keith doubts the latter to be true considering how nice Coran was to him). All to avoid seeing Keith. Did he really find the idea of Keith liking him that bad?

Hours have passed since he dropped his last delivery off but Keith hovers at the entrance of Arus Gardens, determined to talk. He’s not going down without saying hetried. But a few more minutes pass and it is clear to Keith that Lance isn’t going to show so he pedals home, downhearted.

He flops onto his bed, trying to make sense of it all. Lance doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to lead someone on intentionally. If he isn’t interested, Keith can’t understand why he doesn’t just tell him straight up. It would break Keith’s heart but at least he would know.

Struck by a sudden bolt of courage, Keith picks up his phone and finds Lance contact, pressing the call button. The resounding dial tone plays for a few seconds before it switches to Lance’s cheery voicemail.

“This is Lance! Sorry, I’m not available right now. Feel free to text me or leave a--”

Keith hangs up.

He opens their most recent text conversation and his heart sinks a little as his eyes ghost over the messages. Lance had been telling Keith about getting his cast off but hadn’t answered Keith’s reply about work. Lance joining him that night had been a complete surprise. Keith ignores the pain in his chest.

Taking a breath, he begins to type.

lance. i hope ur doing ok. enjoying the new route.

He isn’t against throwing in a little bit of salt. After all, it’s Lance who has been giving him the cold shoulder. Keith is allowed this.

i just wanted to say that i’m sorry i for making things weird the other night. can we talk? I’d rly like a chance to fix whatever i did wrong :)

He hits send before he can think too hard and shoves his phone under a cushion. Now he just needs a distraction.

Lance misses Keith, he realises as he makes his way home. His legs are definitely not forgiving him for the extra few miles he has himself cycling everyday. All to avoid seeing Keith. Keith who Lance’s heart is aching for. Lance shakes his head and focuses on the road, trying to shake the thoughts from his head.

He fails.

Lance knows they should talk. Communication is one of the most important aspects of most rela--- friendships. He’s sure he can act well enough to convince Keith that they were friends and there was nothing there. He did get the highest grade of any boy in his high school drama class when he was fifteen - he could totally pull it off. Even though he really didn't want to.

He’s a few blocks from home when his phone goes off. After his shift he had taken it from the holder on his handlebars and into his bag. He listens helplessly as it rings out for a few moments before it shuts off. It’s probably just Hunk checking in. Nothing too important, he’s sure.

After what seems like an age Lance is home. He can hear Hunk bustling about the kitchen.

“Honey, I’m home!” He marches straight into the kitchen, only to freeze in the doorway. Hunk looks a mix between horrified and amused. And he has a girl over. She has her beautiful, afro hair tied up in a ponytail and golden hoops hang from her ears. Her dark face wears a similar expression to Hunk's.`

“Lance, this is Shay. She’s in my botany class. Shay, this is Lance, my extremely annoying roommate who never checks his phone.” Hunk sends him a pointed look.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I honestly just got home, I didn’t realise that-- I’ll just go now. It was lovely meeting you, Shay. Really. Maybe we can catch up another time?”

“I’d like that.” Shay giggles and extends a hand which Lance immediately shakes. That's a good second impression at least.

“Anyway," Hunk announces a little loudly, "We’ve got a table booked and we’re going back to Shay’s afterwards. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure, buddy.” Lance tries to hide his smirk. “Have fun, you guys.”

He sees Hunk and Shay off with a wave before moving into his room, tossing his helmet and delivery bag on the floor at the bottom of his bed. He opens up his phone and, sure enough, a message from Hunk is first on the screen.

Hey L, a girl from my class - Shay - is going to be over when u get back. Don’t do anything stupid pls. x

Oops. Lance chuckles quietly and continues his mindless scrolling through his notifications - assignments, calendar updates, the phone bill - until his thumb freezes over two that came in an hour ago.

Missed Call From Keith <3
Message from Keith <3

Hurriedly, Lance presses onto it and sucks in a breath as his eyes scan the message.

lance. i hope ur doing ok. enjoying the new route. i just wanted to say that i’m sorry i for making things weird the other night. can we talk? I’d rly like a chance to fix whatever i did wrong :)

Lance winces at the obvious sarcasm lacing Keith’s first few words. He probably feels like shit being left in the dark like this and the thought makes Lance feel so much worse. But something bubbles in Lance’s chest when he reads through the remainder of the message and realises he might have a chance to make things right again. He hesitates for a second before typing out a quick reply.

sure. that’s a good plan

Surprisingly, Keith takes only minutes to reply.

hi! kind of surprised u replied tbh,, how are things?
can i just say quickly i’m sorry if i made u uncomfortable?
i rly regret pulling a stunt like that bc ur friendship means a lot to me and i’d rather not lose u just because i was stupid

Lance can do nothing but stare as the messages flood in one after the other. By the time the third pops up onto his screen he’s already confused. Keith’s declarations sweep him further into a storm of questions.

Surely, if anything, it was Lance who was ‘pulling a stunt’. Keith had readily rejected him. Hadn’t he? Lance considers calling Keith and demanding exactly what he meant by being ‘stupid’ because he’s starting to feel hopeful and he really doesn’t want to get his heart crushed for the second time this week. In the end, though, he doesn’t, deciding instead to pick apart the texts for a sign of anything, good or bad.

If Keith completely despises him, he wouldn’t try to reconnect. That makes sense. And he didn't he just admit trying something that night, under the glow of the sunset?

Lance lifts his head from his screen, eyes falling on his battered electric guitar - Carl - that he had moved into his room so that, as soon as his cast was off, he could be reminded to play. The sight of it sparks an idea in his mind, accompanied a happy memory from Shiro’s garage. Him, in his cast, talking out loud as Pidge scribbled words onto paper and Hunk played out the chords on his keyboard. Lance wonders if he still had that scrap of paper somewhere…

Keith doesn’t know what to feel. The green tick by his messages show they were successfully delivered and read by his recipient. But Lance still hasn’t said anything. Keith wonders if he read right through him. Figured out immediately that when Keith said he was ‘stupid’ he really meant ‘two seconds away from kissing you’. All Keith can do is hope that’s not the case.

The idea that Lance might have figured this out and had a positive reaction to it is far from his mind.

Keith shuffles an alternative rock mix on his phone, connecting it to his speaker and tries to sink into the depths of his couch. If only he could escape the world, merge with the cushions and become it. Become the couch, an ominous voice that sounds like it belongs in a movie says in his head. Keith really needs to do something. Anything. After a moment of wallowing, he sits up again and decides to make himself some tea to take his mind off of Lance’s inevitable rejection and avoidance.

Two minutes into the third song, the music pauses and the familiar chime of Keith’s phone plays, way too loud, over the speaker. Keith places his tea down and scrambles for his phone, not at all ashamed of how fast he unlocks it.

The texts are from Lance.

so, i didn’t know if was going to end up sending u this but it took me way too many takes to NOT and i rly rly rly miss seeing u soooo
i hope this explains at least my side of this stupid thing
AudioFile.mp3

Keith takes no time in pressing on the file. Music suddenly spills from his speaker, filling the room with an upbeat picking pattern. It doesn’t sound professionally recorded so Keith assumes Lance is the one behind the instrument. The song swings in a bubbly manner. It may not be a super complex, gorgeous piece but Keith can just tell it’s Lance which makes it amazing enough. Butterflies begin to fill his stomach and when the lyrics start Keith feels his heart skip a beat.

I’ll admit when I met you the first time, I thought you might be kind of rude?
I was not prepared at all when my pulse started racing and feelings started getting involved.

Keith’s breath hitches as the rest of the song plays out into his empty living room. Of course Lance can sing. He's in a band.

We were friends, picking up loose ends, so we could be who we wanted to be.
But then it all came crashing down, I don’t know what came over me.

So, this is me opening up my heart to you, the only way I know how.
Please don’t walk away from me I need you to hear this out.

I like the way you smile,
And I guess the wacky hairdo’s cute, somehow it seems to work for you?

I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.
Do you like me too?

Keith doesn’t wait another second. He considers running but decides he doesn’t want to end up all sweaty by the time he arrives. Biking's faster anyway.

Soon, he’s out the door, jacket and helmet on, cycling as fast as he can to Lance’s house. It doesn’t take him long and after ten minutes of constant pedalling he’s standing at the top of Lance’s driveway. He tentatively leans his bike against the house and takes his helmet off, hoping his hair doesn't look like a bird's nest, and makes his way to the front door.

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

Chapter Text

Lance is in the middle of a perfectly justified freak out when he hears the muffled sound of a knock. He gently places Carl back on the guitar stand and goes to answer, hoping he doesn’t look as anxious as he feels.

He unlocks the door and standing there on the porch, breathing heavily, is none other than Keith. Because of fucking course it is. Lance tries, unsuccessfully, to settle the electricity that suddenly sparks on his skin.

“Keith? What--”

Before he can finish, however, Keith swoops forward, gripping Lance’s waist and pulling him into a desperate kiss.

Lance, understandably, melts. If liking Keith is like playing with fire, he decides, kissing Keith is the moment the flames consume you entirely. Lance’s chest is burning in such a good way that he never thought possible.

Keith is the one to break their embrace, leaning back just far enough so that Lance can see his whole face. He’s so handsome, his helmet hair sticking up every which way, dark eyes wide. Lance slides a hand up to cup his cheek.

“We’re idiots, aren’t we,” he says, smiling widely. Keith smirks back.

“Obviously. I like you very, very much.”

Lance lets out a laugh, grabbing hold of Keith’s jacket and dragging him inside. As soon as the door clicks shut, their smiles meet once again. Lance silently thanks whatever deity above for giving him guitar playing skills. He and Keith would probably still be sulking in their respective rooms worrying over, what Lance now realises, something pointless.

Pointless because Keith likes him back. He pulls him closer.

Keith thinks he might be dead and Lance is kissing him like his life depends on it. It’s magical, sparks flying at high speeds behind Keith’s eyelids.

They somehow stumble into Lance’s living room injury free and without breaking anything, collapsing onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. They separate for the second time and Lance gets to work trying to fix Keith’s helmet hair. Keith breathes out a laugh and frames Lance’s face, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, anywhere he can reach. Lance giggles, shoving his hands away and clambering into his lap.

He wraps his arms around Keith’s back and rests his cheek on his shoulder, stilling for the first time since Keith got here. Keith swiftly reciprocates the action, fingers circling Lance’s shoulder blades.

“So… you liked the song?”

“I loved it. You have a beautiful voice,” Keith admits in Lance’s neck, feeling lighter at the realisation that he doesn’t have to hide how he feels anymore. Lance, leans back and fixes him with a look, a cute blush high on his cheeks.

“Shut up, Keith,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes but Keith can see the fondness in his expression.

“It’s probably still playing,” Keith realises, “I kind of forgot to turn it off after deciding to come over here and talk to you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that was the plan. To talk to me. Sure.” Lance drags the final word out. Keith smiles, surging forward.

They end up making out for a while on the couch but Lance can’t say he’s complaining. After all, they need to make up for all the lost time their idiocy and obliviousness caused.

“Hey, wait,” Lance says when Keith is in the middle of kissing his jaw. “Can I braid your hair?”

“That’s what’s on your mind right now?” Keith fixes him with a look of incredulity.

“That’s not an answer,” he presses. Keith groans, staying in his position.

“Surely my hair isn't long enough. Do you even know how to braid hair?” Lance beams at Keith’s roundabout way of agreeing. There’s a hint of resignation in there somewhere.

“Sure do. My sisters wish they had my skills. I’ve got magical hands.” He wiggles his fingers as if to prove his point. Keith glances at them and, finally, sighs, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before sitting up.

“Good luck getting the tangles out.”

Lance squeals in delight, running to his room for supplies. When he returns he notices Keith eyeing him. Lance tilts his head.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Lance raises an eyebrow. Keith crumbles under his stare. “I just really like you. I was so scared about ruining our friendship and now you’re literally about to braid my hair. It’s just weird.”

“Weird?” Lance doesn’t mean for his voice to sound smaller, but it does. Keith picks up on it immediately, concern in his expression. He shuffles forward on the couch, taking the brush and bobbles from Lance’s hands and pulling him forward.

“A good weird. Best kind of weird. A ‘you’re super hot and I’m lucky to have you’ weird.”

“You are.” Lance’s frown turns up at its edges.

“I know,” Keith says quietly but Lance feels the sudden urge to continue.

“I like you loads, okay? And you’re still one of my best friends. Two in one!” He squishes Keith’s cheeks together playfully, earning a laugh from him. “You haven’t lost anything - we don’t not have a friendship anymore. We now just kiss sometimes, that’s all that’s changed.”

Keith stares at him for a moment more before rolling his eyes.

“Alright. You are now free to do what you like with my hair as long as you don’t cut it off. I trust you.”

Lance beams and gets to work. He directs Keith to sit on the floor, between his legs and he begins the process.

“Oh my god.” Lance’s laughter fills the entire room. “You look so cute.”

Keith most certainly does not look cute. He looks stupid.

“Was the ribbon necessary?” Keith glances in the mirror at the red ribbon resting just above his shoulder that Lance used to tie the braid off.

“Oh yeah.” Keith rolls his eyes. Lance is laughing through his reassurances. “Don’t worry, baby, you still look hardcore.”

“I better,” Keith mumbles, ignoring the way his heart seizes at the way Lance casually says ’baby’, before silencing his laughter with his mouth. The ribbon loosens quickly and Keith’s hair is out of the braid in seconds. Neither of them mind.

“Hey,” Lance says, attempting to escape Keith’s embrace. Keith tries to pull him back but Lance slides off his lap, ignoring Keith’s quiet whine of protest, and draws his knees in. “Since you failed to do it the first time round, and the second, let’s actually talk now. I, for one, realised I liked you within the first week of meeting you.”

Keith raises his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Really. Now, what about you?”

“This probably sounds awful,” Keith groans, shaking his head, “But it took you getting your arm broken to make me realise how worried I was.”

“That’s not awful,” Lance reassured, slipping a hand into Keith’s. “That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, well, it grew from there. Just ask Shiro. He and Curtis had to put up with so much denial on my part. They knew what was up way before I did.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Lance nods. He thinks back to the number of weirdly specific questions Shiro and Curtis had pestered him when he came to band practice for the first time since he broke his arm. “That actually makes a lot of sense, oh my god.”

“Yeah. And ‘Tío Lance mode’ almost killed me, by the way.” Lance cringes.

“Dude, why? I was such a mess that day!”

“A cute mess,” Keith adds. Lance lets out a nervous burst of laughter.

“Ha, you think I’m cute.”

“You were the one in my lap two seconds ago so I--” Lance slaps a hand over Keith’s mouth, covering the smirk that grows as Lance feels himself flush.

“So,” he continues, once he releases Keith. “Do you want to go out some time? We could get dinner or…”

“I have, like, no money,” Keith blurts. Lance grins.

“That’s a good point. I don’t either. ‘Cause, y’know, rent.” Lance considers his options for a moment. “What about takeout?”

He doesn’t miss the knowing look Keith sends his way.

“Sure.” He agrees eventually. “Sounds good.”

An hour later, they’re sitting against Lance’s bed frame, shoulders pressing together, plates of half finished noodles in hand. Keith turns to face him as another episode of ‘The Mandalorian’ begins to play.

“How can you even pay for Disney each month? I thought we confirmed earlier we cannot budget to save our lives.” A sly smile works onto Lance’s face.

“I stole my brother’s login details last time I went over. He writes everything ‘password related’ on a slip of paper in the hall,” he explains. Keith grins.

“I am definitely going to exploit that.”

“Any reason why I should allow it?” Lance prods his shoulder.

“Boyfriend privileges?”

The suggestion slips out against Keith’s will - Lance can tell by the way his face falters and he immediately opens his mouth to back pedal. Lance takes a spring roll and shoves it inside before Keith can get another word in and kisses his cheek to silence any further protest. Keith basically just admitted he wants Lance as a boyfriend and Lance isn’t going to hear any take backs. Instead he plays it cool.

“That’s fair,” he acknowledges. Keith, who has recovered from the mouthful of food, looks a little shocked.

“It is? You don’t want to wait a little?” They share a look.

“No, boyfriend privileges are very much adequate,” Lance replies warmly. Keith visibly relaxes. “I’m still not fully convinced I should let you share though.”

“Oh, really? Well then, let me persuade you.”

Lance has only seconds to place his plate on the bedside table before Keith tackles him, capturing his lips as he drags Lance on top of him. Lance hums in approval, settling between Keith’s legs, very much persuaded.

They chat easily as they wash the plates. Lance tosses a heap of bubbles into Keith’s hair, complaining when the action is reciprocated - hypocrite, Keith thinks to himself in the most endearing fashion.

It’s later, when Lance is snoozing on his chest, that Keith makes a silent promise. He is going to be the best boyfriend and spoil Lance rotten as much as he can. Whether it’s out to a fancy dinner - he thinks if he saves enough he can pull it off - or evenings in. Sharing some very, very romantic takeout.

Keith can’t help but think that it doesn’t sound too bad.