Work Text:
It all started in high school. Keith had become a fan of a fantasy book series that included fashionable elfs and well-turned-out humans, in lots of culturally different regions. Since Keith had a sketchbook and no friends, he had started to draw their outfits as well as he could. Sometimes he posted them online and he always had a great response.
When he ran out of described outfits, Keith began to draw outfits inspired by his surroundings - nature and city buildings and school personalities. He showed no-one the drawings, not even Shiro. In fact, he bought another sketchbook so that he could draw other, more innocuous things. Such as the park, a café scene, his fleeting crushes. One crush in particular was persistent, namely a young model he saw in adverts everywhere.
Unfortunately, it all fell apart when Shiro’s friend, Allura, picked up the book when Keith had gone to the kitchen for drinks. When he returned, it was to find her leafing through his various outfits. He dropped his drink and he and Shiro fussed over the carpet for a moment. Keith’s heart was beating in his ears.
Allura smiled widely at him when he looked up. “These are amazing, Keith,” she said, earnestly. “Have you ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?”
There was a resounding silence. “What?” Keith asked, incredulous.
“I’m good at sewing,” Allura explained. “I could make these, if you want. I’m sure people would be interested.”
“But… What?”
“Think about it,” Allura told him, handing back his book. “You have a talent, Keith - it would be a shame to see it go to waste.” Her eyes widened and she held up her hands. “Not that I’m trying to manipulate you into this! You can do whatever you want. Even if you don’t want to draw for a living, if you do what makes you happiest, you’ll be living your life to the full.”
He took a week to reply, and it was in the affirmative. Things started out slow. Allura taught him how to sew the materials himself when he was too anxious to wait for Allura to finish the work. Eventually, he was able to make his own creations and Allura was only too happy to move onto other projects and leave Keith to his own devices. His lines came and went, as did the models. None of them were right, though; there was something about the glowing dresses and sweeping necklines that unnerved him. He switched his attention to male only lines, allowing trans and non-binary people to model in what the press called a groundbreaking decision. But things still didn’t seem right. It was as if he was searching for something he couldn’t quite grasp.
After five years of massive success, Keith found himself in a rut. He was out of ideas. Any that did come to him were thrown in the bin before he had even finished the sketches. That was when Shiro found him, with an upcoming deadline for a show, and no work to show for it.
As he handed him a coffee, Shiro looked at the latest sketch of a human body. “Hm,” he said, then proceeded to pick up some of the balled up pieces of paper and smoothed them out to compare them all. “Are you aware that you’re designing all of these for the same person?”
“What?!” Keith grabbed at the papers and looked at them all. It didn’t take him long to figure out what he’d been doing. “Damn,” he muttered. “No wonder I’m getting nowhere.”
“Who are you drawing them for?” Shiro asked, confused.
“No-one,” said Keith, quickly.
It was too much to hope for Shiro to drop it. “Is it someone you’ve fallen out with? I’ve told you that sleeping around on the job is not a good idea.”
“No!” Keith knew he was red in the face and he scowled at Shiro. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Then who is it?”
Keith hesitated. He had never admitted his crush to anyone. There had been a few times that modelling agencies had recommended him, but Keith had chosen other people instead. His designs previously could be adapted to every body type. But, now… Keith stared down at his most recent sketch and could only see his face.
Sighing, Keith said, “Lance McClain.”
“Oh?” Shiro sounded a little too innocent and Keith narrowed his eyes at him.
“What was that?” he demanded.
“Nothing!” Shiro insisted. “Just… I remember the way you would stare at his billbo-”
“Argh!” Keith lifted the crumpled papers to hide his face. “No! Stop!”
“Keith,” said Shiro, more gently. “If he’s your muse, you should use that. Especially if you’re struggling to come up with anything else.”
“I just need a break,” Keith decided.
Shiro gave him a disappointed look. “You promised Allura that you’d come up with something original for her show. It’s important to her, and her friends.”
“I know,” Keith said with a sigh. She had put it together to honour her parents, and Keith had been more than willing to be a part of her show. If he let her down… His stomach clenched at the thought. “Fine. But… How do I do that?”
“You could ask him to be your model,” Shiro suggested, a little amused.
“Wha-? No! That would mean that I’d have to work with him, and I’d-” Keith broke off, already feeling embarrassed at all the ways he could make a fool of himself. He shuddered. “That would be horrifying.”
“Keith.” Shiro waited until Keith had stopped panicking before he continued. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Why don’t you get in contact with his agency?”
Again, Keith stared down at the sketch, imagining his face, imagining him being right there… He nodded at Shiro. “Fine. Do you have the number?”
Lance McClain was hugely successful. He’d grown into his lanky body from his early years of advertising aimed at teenagers. That was when he’d turned to underwear ads and sexy posing of clothing for various companies. There had been several runway shows that he’d attended, all around the world. Then, somehow, he’d segued into acting. A few bit parts (usually poking fun of models) before he was suddenly acting . And he was good at it, too. He’d won an award for Best Newcomer for a TV show he’d starred in that was about a detective; Lance had played his aggrieved boyfriend who usually solved the case for him.
Being in the same room as him was intoxicating.
“Hi,” said Lance with a friendly grin. He slid his sunglasses down his nose so that he could look at Keith over the top of them. The navy shirt complemented his eyes well, making them brighter. His charcoal jeans were tight, and Keith prayed he didn’t turn around so he could avoid staring at the man’s ass. Someone had styled Lance’s hair until it fell in waves across his forehead and Keith desperately wanted to run his hands through it.
He barely kept it together, just enough to say, “Hello.”
Lance pushed his sunglasses back up. His head turned, like a prince surveying his kingdom. Keith tried not to grimace at the mess. There were materials strewn across several desks, some even on the ground. He’d tried another bout of sketches the night before, hoping to cancel at the last minute - surely Lance would take sudden inspiration as a good excuse for sending him away - but none of them had worked and the balled up paper surrounded the trash can. Sunlight streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows and illuminated everything.
“So,” said Lance, pushing his sunglasses onto his head once he’d finished his scrutiny. “Where do you want me?”
Several thoughts went through Keith’s head. “Excuse me?” he said, a little breathlessly.
Amused, Lance wandered to where Keith had left some of his extra fabric from his last production. “Do you want me to get changed into something? Curtis said you were struggling, but he didn’t explain what.”
“‘Curtis’?” asked Keith, confused.
“My agent,” Lance explained, looking as though he was holding back laughter. “He’s downstairs, talking to your friend. Shiro?”
“Oh. Oh!” Keith nodded. “Right.” He suddenly realised that he was still standing with a pencil in his hand, unable to say more than two words in a row to Lance. This was a disaster.
Lance turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. It was just like in the detective programme, when he thought his detective-boyfriend was being an idiot. Keith was mortified. After a moment, Lance said, “If you don’t want me to get changed, are you wanting to draw me? Like one of your French girls?”
“Yes.” Keith blinked at the second raised eyebrow. Then his brain caught up. “Wha-?! No! That’s not-! I-!” Keith stopped and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed. Once he felt a little calmer, he opened his eyes, hoping that Lance wasn’t standing there, looking at him.
He was.
Smirking, Lance said, “I don’t mind, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Jealousy stabbed at Keith. He frowned. “Really?”
Lance faltered. “Well. No, not really. Not, y’know, naked. But people have drawn me. Which is weird, but, whatever.”
“Right.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment. Keith didn’t know what to do. He'd never done anything like this before. Lance shifted a little, to and fro, as he waited.
“So, uh, why am I here?” he finally asked.
Keith told himself to get it together and hoped Lance wouldn’t notice how flustered he was. “I… I’m having a bit of an art block,” he admitted.
Lance nodded knowingly. “Happens to the best of them,” he said, sagely.
“I thought, if I had a single model to design pieces for, it might work to kick start my creativity.”
Again, Lance nodded. “Then, why me?”
“Uh, well…” Keith scrambled for an excuse; he couldn’t tell Lance the truth. That would be mortifying. “I’ve always wanted to work with you,” he lied.
That didn’t seem to go down well. Lance frowned at him. “Really?” he drawled. “Because I heard that you rejected all my requests to work with you in your last few projects.”
Keith tried not to panic and thought as quickly as he could. “It wasn’t the right time,” he blurted out.
Lance’s offence became a frown of confusion. “‘The right time’?” he repeated.
“Yes,” Keith explained. “None of my outfits would have looked right on you. You need something amazing.”
Blinking, Lance stared at Keith. It took Keith a moment, but he slowly realised that Lance’s cheeks were suddenly darker. He was blushing. Just that knowledge both bolstered Keith and made him blush. And so, for a few moments, they stared at each other and blushed.
Finally, Keith broke the silence. “Ah. Um… If you just- If you just stand there for a moment, I’d like to… to draw you, first of all.”
“Okay,” Lance murmured. “Any particular pose?”
“No… Just, whatever’s comfortable.”
“Sure. Or I could sit, if you’d like?” Lance suggested.
Keith looked around for a chair and spotted one buried in fabrics. “Umm… If you want. Whatever makes you relaxed.”
“Yeah. Just feels a bit awkward just standing here.”
“Sorry.”
Lance shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll just…” He gestured at the buried chair and Keith nodded, turning away to hide his embarrassment.
While Keith was setting up his drawing desk, Lance excavated the chair. He lifted it easily in one arm, muscles bulging, and Keith bit his lip to hold back a sigh. Then he placed it in the middle of the chaos and plopped onto it. After he’d rolled his shoulders a little, Lance leaned back, rocking the chair onto its back legs, one foot keeping him balanced. He let his head fall back and his sunglasses fell off his head until they were at the tip of his nose. When he caught Keith staring, he grinned and Keith had to grab at his pencils.
Thankfully, Keith’s mind calmed while he drew the enticing image in front of him. Lance wobbled to and fro, but let Keith work. He didn’t pull his phone out, which Keith thought was weird. But he decided it was unimportant as he continued to capture as much of Lance as he could.
Once he’d completed his initial sketch, Keith turned the page and tried to draw some outfits that would complement Lance. He thought of the way Lance had entered, his greeting, the way he’d pushed down his sunglasses so that Keith could see his eyes and know that he was looking right at him… His pencil moved, almost without him realising and he suddenly had an entire outfit.
But he barely stopped to look at it. Instead, he drew another outfit, based on the way Lance had surreptitiously taken in the room. And another on the way he’d been offended by Keith putting off his and his agent’s requests to work together. By the time he actually ran out of ideas, he had five outfits, and he was sure that was only the tip of the iceberg.
Keith put down his pencil and began to do his wrist stretches. When he looked up, Lance had let the chair drop down to all four legs and was dozing. His head kept nodding against his chest. The sunglasses had fallen into his lap. Somehow, Lance always seemed mature; now, he looked his age, soft and sweet. Keith wanted so badly to touch him.
Instead, Keith cleared his throat. Lance’s whole body jerked and he sat up straight. His movement caused the sunglasses to fall to the floor and he quickly bent to retrieve them. “Er,” he said when he was sitting upright again. “Did you finish it?”
“Yeah,” Keith told him, pleased. “Among other things.” He tilted his head and thought for a moment. “Will you-? I mean…” Keith looked down at his ideas, at the things that had burst from him after only spending ten minutes with Lance. “I think that I want to make a range of clothes just for you. Based on getting to know you. If… that’s okay?”
When he looked up, Lance looked surprised. Keith could already think of another outfit that he could create, simply from the wide, open expression on Lance’s face. He wanted to see them all, he realised, and he would treasure this time with him forever. Lance blinked a few times before he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sounds good. Like… work dates.”
“I wouldn’t call them that,” said Keith, quickly.
Lance grinned. “That’s what I’m gonna call them,” Lance told Keith. “In fact, let’s go on one now. I need some coffee if I’m gonna get through the rest of the day. Maybe some food, too.”
“Well… If you have the time…?”
“Come on.” Lance held out his hand to him and Keith made his way around the desk to take it, ideas already flowing.