Work Text:
When Keith was 6, his father died and he was left with a hole in his heart and a life filled with foster homes. Some better, some worse, but none of them quite right, none of them ever lasted long. When he was 12, he got adopted into the Shirogane family and the stability took him by surprise. The shameless affection seeping through the walls of the small suburb house, the warmth in his chest when he indulged himself and joined a movie night, the fullness of his stomach every single day.
When he was 16, he kissed a boy for the very first time, and yes, it was sloppy and tasted of alcohol and cigarettes, but for a good year that was the bets kiss Keith had ever had. (The fact that it was the only kiss was probably unrelated.)
When he was 20, he took a phonetics class and met Lance McClain. It was quite unfortunate, really, he should have gotten to class earlier so he could snag his usual seat at the back of the classroom. But it had been raining and he was soaked to the bone even before the first two minutes of his walk to campus were up, so he gave in and ran back to change and bring a proper coat. Damn his want to not get sick, because when he finally arrived, the only empty seat was next to Lance and his short brown curls, and his blue, blue eyes, and his toothy smile, and his optimism, and his- It annoyed Keith, every aspect of Lance got on his nerves and he didn't know why.
It was a long time coming, Keith couldn't deal with the beams of sunshine that seemingly radiated from Lance at any given moment. Or the dorky smile he gave him every time they sat down next to each other. He survived five classes before he ditched for the first time, one week without a two hour seminar filled with assimilation this, intrusive r that, linking j that, couldn't hurt.
Fall was starting to set in and there were fewer and fewer days where the Sun would unapologetically warm the air filled with warm breezes. It was the start of leaves falling and covering up the greys of concrete walkways, nature coloring the greens of trees into yellows, reds and browns, and the occasional thunderstorms that would wake you up in the middle of the night and leave you staring at the ceiling while winds howled outside and rocked windows.
With the Sun slowly creeping up as the time flowed through the early morning hours, Keith deemed it the perfect day to spend two hours at a coffee shop, staring at his computer tying to work on his Origins of the horror genre as we know it in today's literature essay, while the smell of coffee would seep into his hair and the liquid warm his insides. That, of course, got ruined, when, instead of the smell of the coffee metaphorically seeping into him, his coffee was literally seeping into his clothes.
"Oh man I am so sorry! I'll buy you a new cup, what's your order?" An apologetic voice came from in front of Keith. An apologetic voice he knew.
"It's fine, you don't have to." He grumbled, eyes trained on his ruined hoodie, and tried to escape before being noticed. Unsuccessfully.
"Wait it's you! Uh... Keith right?" Lance smiled, that dorky toothy smile, casually pointing to Keith with his free hand, balancing a carton tray with three coffees in the other. He nodded. "Well, Keith," Keith didn't like the way it rolled off of Lance tongue, "I don't take no for an answer. Now what's your order?" Best way to get out of it was through, straight ahead, Keith supposed, and begrudgingly shared with Lance his order of a simple cup of black coffee, and went to get some paper towels to clean up the mess on the floor. Though the vast majority of the spilled coffee was now soaking through to his skin, so there wasn't really much to clean.
"Here you go! And sorry again. Do you want a clean sweatshirt? I've got one in my backpack." Lance, still smiling, said with a hand extended towards Keith, offering him his new coffee.
"Thanks, and no thanks." He took the coffee cup, gaze jumping from it to Lance's eyes, once it was securely in his hands.
"Ditching phonetics too I see?"
"Yep. Thought I'd get some headway with an essay instead." Keith shrugged, raising the container to his lips and savouring the warm bitterness.
"Mmm, good thinking. Personally, I just need a break from it all. The whole assimilation and elision thing is getting jumbled in my brain." Lance laughed, apparently looking to have a conversation with Keith, who instead just stared at him, trying to figure out why this guy is even talking to him in the first place. "Well anyway! I've gotta go, but I'll see you round campus?" Lance continued after a pause, shooting a finger gun in Keith's direction.
"Yeah, see you round, I guess."
"Great! Good luck with your essay!" And just like that he was waving goodbye at Keith and walking out of the door. Keith watched him through the glass panes cross the street and continue walking back towards campus. Still a bit stunned by the interaction, Keith, coffee in hand, followed in Lance's footsteps to the outside of the coffee shop, before straying from his path and heading home for a change of clothes.
———
It all went, in Keith's opinion, downhill from there. No matter what day it was, no matter what class he was walking to, Lance always somehow ran into him and struck up a conversation as if they were long time friends. And okay, maybe Keith wasn't totally opposed to the idea of Lance after three weeks of the mostly one sided conversations from the brunette's side, but damn was it hard to get used to.
Keith liked his calm, he enjoyed his quiet, he cherished his calm and quiet between classes, away from loud college students, but now that stillness was being filled with rambles from Lance about the newest episode of some medical drama, or the way his friends beat the newest installation of some video game Keith had never heard of, or the way those same friends beat a speedrun record on Wii Party, (whatever the fuck that meant). Simply said, Keith didn't appreciate the intrusion of his me-time.
The first time it happened, the day after the coffee shop incident, hearing his name yelled across a lawn on campus frankly scared the shit out of him and almost made him physically jump at the sound. Before he could recover from the near heart attack, Lance was by his side and asking him if he watches drama shows and when Keith simply shrugged, he started rambling about the show he's been watching and detailing all the relationships between doctors and the drama that's been happening.
The second time it happened, Lance just suddenly appeared next to him, bumping an elbow into his arm and saying his greetings, before telling the story of how the day before was his and his best friends' game night and how he totally got his ass handed to him in Wii Party, but got a near perfect game of Wii Bowling. Before Keith knew it, he found himself walking to that exact game night three weeks later. He didn't exactly remember agreeing to the idea of joining Lance and his friends, but he didn't remember negating it either.
Google maps pulled up on his phone showed Lance's apartment just under five more minutes of walking distance from his current location. He could still turn back and go home, enjoy a quiet night with a book, or his essay on horror literature, but, admittedly, he did use to be an avid player of Mario Kart, the game to be played tonight, and would spend hours crushing his brother Shiro's spirits by beating him every single round, and he hadn't played in so long... With a sigh he treaded ahead.
"Hi." Keith said simply, when the door to Lance's apartment swung open in front of him.
"Keith! Welcome! Come in, come in. You can leave your shoes and stuff here." Lance pointed to a clothing rack by the door as two figures peeked out from a doorway further into the apartment. They were staring at Keith who reacted the best way he could think of, by staring back but harder. When Lance noticed Keith's failure to move inside from the empty hallway behind him, he followed his gaze with his own. "Ah yes, that's Hunk and Pidge. Ignore them, they have no manners." Lance said catching Keith's attention again and gesturing exaggeratedly for him to come inside finally. Warily, Keith did, slipping of his black sneakers and red windbreaker.
He followed Lance into the room where Hunk and Pidge were studying him from and who were now dutifully sitting on the sofa, fiddling with controllers and connecting them to the TV.
"Keith, Hunk and Pidge." Lance gestured between the two on the couch before gesturing toward Keith, "Hunk and Pidge, Keith. Be nice to him." Keith just observed the group as they seemed to hold a quick staring contest, questioning all of his life decisions and what exactly he did that resulted in him hanging out with the ever so annoying Lance and his short brown curls, and his blue, blue eyes, and his toothy smile, and his optimism, and his-
"Nice to meet you, man. We'll have it all set up in a sec. Help yourself to a drink or a snack." The bigger one, Hunk, said, smiling at Keith. Pidge momentarily looked up from the cords she was untangling and smiled as well. Keith didn't know whether to be concerned about them possibly disliking him or not.
In the end his fears were unwarranted and after a while of stiff movements and being hyper aware of his surroundings he eased into the game play. Though he was a lousy opponent to, evidently, never before beaten Pidge, he did manage to score the second place medal in the majority of races, much to Hunks complaints.
"This is so not fair. You're never welcome to game night ever again. I want my second place back." Hunk narrowed his eyes, towering over Keith, after the tenth round in a row of being in third place.
"He's kidding! You're always welcome." Lance laughed awkwardly, placing a hand on Keith shoulder. Keith would be a liar if he said his stomach didn't do a few back flips.
But for now, he was more than content with the title of a Dirty Liar, giving himself the option to ignore the feelings rising in his chest whenever Lance would run up to him, or seemingly appear out of nowhere, or bring him a cup of coffee, simple and black. Giving himself the option not to think too much about the comfortable feeling when a hand would land on his shoulder to let him know of its owner's presence.
It became a sort of a routine, in a sense. At least once a school day, Keith's moments of calm and quiet, would be breached and demolished by Lance's presence and words, and maybe Keith didn't mind anymore. Maybe somewhere down the line he stopped minding and started looking forward to those moments, stopped trying his best to avoid routes that Lance might take and started seeking them out instead. Maybe somewhere down the line everything annoying about Lance became endearing instead.
———
Fall was in full swing and the temperatures suddenly dropped. Every breeze that came through sent a cold shiver down Keith's spine, convincing him to start wearing a warm fleece under his signature windbreaker, which, if he's being honest, was the first Christmas gift he received that was intended for him after years of donated toys that were sorted out like lottery tickets. If he's being honest, it was terribly wrapped with tape barely holding the wrapping paper together, but it had a note, that helped him realize the years of passively living were over and he had a family. If he's being honest, it was a gift from Shiro, the best brother he never knew he wanted until he had him, and it was the best gif he's ever received, even if it was a simple windbreaker, now covered in tiny holes around the sleeve cuffs. But if anyone asks, it's a random jacket that he's just always sorta had.
And maybe it's because Keith was thinking about Shiro, and going home for Thanksgiving, and the awesome chicken soup he'll have, that would coincidentally also be always made whenever anyone in the Shirogane household got sick, that he finds himself outside of Lance's apartment with a container full of said chicken soup on a Friday morning.
It was Tuesday when Lance failed to show up for their phonetics class, and when he was nowhere on campus the whole day, Keith may have completely randomly and most definitely not on purpose walked by the science building on Wednesday, where he knew Pidge and Hunk had most of their classes. And he may have absolutely coincidentally run into them and very nonchalantly brought up the topic of Lance missing class. And Pidge and Hunk may have stared at him for a second as he stared back at them the-opposite-of-eagerly awaiting their response. And they may have casually dropped the information that Lance was in bed with a fever since Monday evening.
Keith steadied his breath and knocked on the apartment door.
"Keith? What are you doing here?" Lance, in pyjamas with mismatched socks and ruffled hair, opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of Keith.
"I had an errand close by and I heard you were sick so I brought you chicken soup. Which now sounds a bit stupid 'cause I don't even know if you like chicken soup, but it's a family thing so. You know." Keith shrugged, his brain lagging not knowing what to say because hell, this was awkward, he was being so awkward. He was over-explaining himself, and his palms were starting to sweat, and there wasn't an errand but apparently he was too cool to admit he went out of his way to bring Lance soup.
Lance blinked at him a couple of times, before straightening his back and slightly blushing, which Keith wrote off as a fever blush because hell if he was going to tackle the possible implications of that. "Thank you, I do like chicken soup," Lance said, accepting the warm container. "I would invite you inside but I'm not completely sure I'm not infectious so. You know."
"Yeah! No, of course," Keith stuttered out of himself, pocketing his hands and swinging in place from his heels to his toes. "Get well soon. I'll leave you to fever-healing activities."
Lance laughed, that dorky smile of his, pretty as always but darkened by the paleness of his face and the purpleness of the bags under his eyes. "Thanks. And thanks again for the soup."
"No problem." Keith smiled, he actually damn intentionally gave Lance a smile, turned on his heels and slowly and inconspicuously bolted for the stairwell.
———
It all came crashing down when Lance offhandedly mentioned he had a date that evening. It awoke a brooding feeling inside of Keith's chest, and it wasn't as if he didn't know what that feeling was, he's felt jealousy plenty enough, it was more the reason for the jealousy that threw him off. He could ignore the little things but the jealousy that Lance has a date, with a girl no less, seemed as if he bit off more than he could chew.
It was overwhelming, he could no longer hide behind I'm glad to spend time with him because we're friends. It was pretty unambiguous that the reason he was jealous in the moment was that he liked Lance. When Keith thought about it, it was actually better that the date was with a girl, this way there was one possible out from this situation: taking it as concrete proof and convincing himself Lance is straight. It left no room for hope that Lance might like Keith back because if that room was there, Keith could not be responsible for his own actions.
He punched a wall on his way home to relieve some of the frustration. To his surprise it actually worked for a second, but by the time he buried his hand in the wall for the third time, his knuckles were starting to bleed and a nasty bruise was starting to form, and he decided to call it a night, actually breaking his hand would be too much of a hassle after all. Ice, a man's best friend.
"Man, what happened to your hand!" Lance made himself known, gently grabbing Keith by the elbow and raising the end of his limb, swallowed up by a bandage, to look more closely.
"Should have seen the other guy."
"You got into a fight!?"
"Yell any louder could you?" Keith yanked his right hand out of Lance's hold and shoved it into his jacket's pocket, internally hissing when the bruised knuckles got caught on the pocket zipper. "And no, I was making a joke."
"No way! I gotta write that down, this day will go down in history as the day Keith Kogane made the first and only joke in his life time." Lance rambled simultaneously as he pulled out his phone and jotted something down in his notes app, Keith supposed he actually just wrote down his quote, but he couldn't see clearly enough at the screen to confirm his theory.
"How was your date?" Keith blurted out, he didn't mean to even actually ask, but it was out there now, no point retracting his question. Lance sighed.
"A bust. She was way outta my league. I don't expect her to text me back like... ever again." He slumped in on himself, sulking. "But it's fine!" He said energetically, suddenly back straightened up, the quick shift startling Keith. "There's still plenty fish in the sea!" And maybe a part of Keith was a just tiny bit happy that Lance was still single.
———
"When's your birthday?" Lance asked one early December afternoon, when him and Keith were studying together for finals. The library was full of people, yet the quiet of the space remained, everyone too tired and focused on reading books and writing papers to exude any additional energy by making noise.
"October 23rd." Keith replied, not looking up from his notes.
"What?!" Lance yelped, attracting attention from the few students that bothered enough and the librarian that shushed him.
"What?"
"Why didn't you mention it? I totally would have thrown you the best surprise party ever." Lance explained, waving his hands around as he talk.
"Didn't feel the need to." Keith shrugged, going back to re-read the same line for the fifth time. Lance stayed quiet for a minute.
"Okay, next question, are you free over winter break?" At that Keith finally looked up, gaze flicking up to meet Lance's. It was obvious he wouldn't get much studying done, until Lance spat out all that he meant to.
"That depends. What are your intentions with that information?"
"I was just gonna invite you to my New Year's Eve party. It would be us, Pidge and Hunk, and we have this drinking game tradition where we spin a wheel on random TV shows, look up bingo cards, and play a drinking bingo! We also play drunk video games and I thought you might want to join us?" There was only one possible answer for Keith, yes.
Admittedly, it was a bit of hassle for him, commuting across the state from his family's house all the way back to campus to Lance's apartment, but what wouldn't he do for a night like that at this point. He kept catching himself enjoying moments a bit too much for his liking, slightly leaning into Lance's touches, in general being at ease with the brunette around.
It was in the late hours of the afternoon of the last day of the year when Keith finally arrived at Lance's apartment, best wine he had ever drank in hand. Campus was awfully full for his liking and he had run into multiple groups of, in his humble opinion, morons that were already firing bangers and small fireworks. It was going to be a long and loud night, hopefully the wine could help with drowning that out.
"Welcome!" Lance exclaimed as soon as he opened the door, immediately throwing himself around Keith and hugging him. Which Keith absolutely didn't account for as a possible welcome and by the time he registered what Lance was doing, it was too late to brace himself for the impact and he ended up on the ground, with Lance on top of him. "Sorry, should have warned you." Lance laughed, a big warm laugh that already smelled of vodka.
"Did you start drinking without me?"
"Yes, you were taking too long."
"Would you two get off the ground so we can go play finally?" Pidge urged, when she appeared in the door way, looking down at the conjoined bodies of mass. With a few sorries, the two got up and inside of the apartment. Keith immediately shedded his shoes and multiple warm layers that had been guarding him from the freezing winds and snowflakes outside, then took his bottle of wine and joined everyone in the living room.
One episode of House M.D. later and the whole room was spinning and suddenly everyone was terrible at Mario Kart, Hunk even securing himself the gold medal position a few times instead of mere silver, that got passed down to Pidge. The unbeatable became beat.
By 11:30 they were all huddled next to each other on the couch, playing one last drinking bingo to a season two episode of Grey's Anatomy, and Keith could feel his nerve endings burning with a fire that felt way too nice for his own good where his whole side was touching Lance's, from shoulders, across ribs and hips, down to their knees and ankles.
And then there was a minute left until midnight and they were all on the tiny balcony, each wrapped in a warm blanket but nothing guarding their feet from the chill coming from the tiles, but none of them cared, 'cause the alcohol kept them warm, and Keith was holding hands with Lance, and then they were counting down, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6,
5,
4,
3,
2,
1.
Suddenly Lance's free hand was on Keith's cheek, spinning him around to face him, his eyes jumping from Keith's lips to his eyes and Keith was drunk so fuck it and he eliminated the distance and kissed Lance to the sound of fireworks overhead. The snowfall picked up on intensity again and they were getting covered in snow flakes but Keith didn't care, because in the moment he was literally kissing Lance, and it may have been just as sloppy as with the faceless guy from when he was 16, but somehow infinitely better.
In the morning Keith felt like he was forgetting something.
That feeling didn't last long because he immediately noticed the boy wrapped up in his arms. His eyes shot open, remembering the big midnight kiss and then the many, many post-midnight kisses in Lance's bed, as innocent and affectionate as they could have been. Guilt surged through Keith's body and suddenly the security from last night in how the other felt about him was gone, and soon so was he. Carefully and quietly Keith untangled his limbs and ran away like a coward to his own apartment. It wouldn't be Keith if he didn't overthink and overanalyze everything as if his brain was one big microscope.
When in the safety of his own space, he shot Lance a quick message that he's sorry but had to leave super early, not even bothering to think up a bullshit excuse, before taking an as cold shower as possible, and ignoring any incoming calls or texts from the boy he spent the night kissing. Because he's a coward.
———
The January air colored Keith's cheeks and nose a deep pink color as he walked to his usual coffee shop, more than ready for his daily dose of caffeine. The winter stubborn and harsh, turning sidewalks into icy slippery dangers, covering grassy lawns with a layer of white that reflected the Sun's shine in the form of glimmer. It was the beginning of the last week of break, before second semester started and campus once again got over-filled with students. Campus' current number of occupants allowed for Keith to not have to wait a line and be able to order right away, a simple cup of black coffee.
"Thank you." He took his reusable cup from where the barista placed it on the counter and turned around to go back to his apartment, currently occupied by a broken coffee machine. He stopped in his tracks when just entering the coffee shop was Lance, with his short brown curls, and blue, blue eyes, mouth covered by a deep blue scarf, ears a dark shade of red from the cold. "Hi." Keith exhaled, eyes searching Lance's face for clues of anything.
"Hi." Lance parroted back.
"I've gotta- I'll see you round?"
"Yeah." Lance nodded and stood out of the way so Keith could leave. When he was out the door and down the few steps, Keith felt an urge to just run all the way back to his apartment, he was a coward. Before he could get very far a hand trapped his. "Actually, can we talk?" Lance asked when Keith turned around to face the person, firmly yet softly holding his hand. "You're avoiding me, I get it. I'm sorry about New Year's, I shouldn't have kissed you. I now get that you don't feel the same way, but I don't wanna lose our friendship. So if you could just- I don't know... Forget what happened- So we can still be friends. Please don't let my stupid feelings ruin this." Keith stared at Lance, eyes skipping between every feature of his face, cataloguing everything he could. The slight furrow of his brow, the chapped lips, the red skin under his nose, the blue of his eyes.
"You actually like me?" Keith ask, dumbfounded. Had he freaked out for no reason?
"Well- Yes." Lance nodded, looking away, a blush spreading across his cheeks, dropping Keith's hand in favour of scratching the back of his neck. "But like I said. I don't want that to change anything between us since you don't feel the same way and-"
"I like you too." Keith blurted out, before he could let himself overthink it and talk himself out of it.
Apparently, now it was Lance's turn to stare at Keith, dumbfounded.
"I sorta- Uh... I may have sorta convinced myself that you could never like me? And then with New Year's... I thought I was the one that had overstepped and- Sorry for running away in the morning." Keith chuckled awkwardly, clearing his throat. He could feel a blush creeping up to his own features, but supposed with the cold his cheeks couldn't get much redder than they already were.
"Can I kiss you?" Lance asked finally, eyes darting between each of Keith's eyes.
"Yes, please." Keith nodded, closing the small distance between them with a swift stride, cupping Lance's jaw with one hand, the other awkwardly draped next to his body, still holding his coffee. Lance's hands shot up and connected behind his neck, bringing him closer until their lips connected.
When Keith was 21, he kissed Lance McClain for the first time. And then for the second, and third, and many, many more, and if he's being honest, there was nothing more he could ask for in those moments.