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After being roommates with Lance for almost a year and a half, here are some things that Keith has learned about him:
- He is not ashamed to take up space. His products line the majority of the space on their bathroom counter, and whenever Keith pushes them aside, they just seem to grow in quantity. His desk is no better, filled to the brim with trinkets, his walls are covered in polaroid photos, and he has made their little dorm room look more lived in than Keith could ever dream of.
- He's quick. Keith feels like Lance is a rush of wind sometimes with how fast everything seems to move around him. He speaks at the pace of lightning, clever words spilling from his lips like an endless waterfall. He can sleep in until the last second and still be out of the door for classes in fifteen minutes if he really tries. He changes his mind like it's an on and off switch that he can just flip at the blink of an eye. Keith can only do his best to keep up.
- He thinks no one should be alone for the holidays. Maybe it's a side effect of coming from such a large family, but when Lance heard that Keith wouldn't be going home for the winter break because Shiro was busy, he had immediately taken it upon himself to fix it.
Which is why, despite Keith's original grievances and protests, Keith finds himself on the way to the airport, passport and plane ticket in his hands, heading home to Cuba with Lance for the holidays.
As they ride the cab together—it's early enough that the sky is still dark, so neither of them are particularly keen on talking slash arguing right now—a million thoughts race through Keith's mind. He keeps his eyes fixed on the view outside, the trees rushing past and the highway that flies by, but he cannot calm the rush in his head.
Keith didn't grow up with a large family. He was an orphan for most of his childhood until he was taken in by Shiro and his then-boyfriend, Adam. None of them really celebrate Christmas either—Adam always goes back to his home country to visit his family, and Shiro would stay behind to take care of Keith. Up until Keith moved for university, their holidays consisted of staying in while it snowed and exchanging small gifts. It's no big deal—Christmas just isn't a thing that Shiro celebrates, and Keith never found it a big deal.
It's a completely different story to what Lance's entails. When Lance speaks of the holidays, he speaks of a cliché holiday movie: A large Christmas tree in a warm, fireplace-lit living room, a bustling city square where you gather with others, matching ugly sweaters with his siblings, and so on. It's everything Keith has only ever read or watched, and he finds it hard to believe that something so perfect could even exist.
Of course, he's never mentioned this to Lance. Despite their friendship being prone to… arguments, they learned to get along through forced proximity and the like. And Lance always seems to glow when he's talking about his family, like it's the single most important thing in the world to him, so Keith would never voice out his doubts over a story of unbridled happiness.
This is exactly why he's, though he loathes to admit it, nervous.
He knows he doesn't belong in this perfect winter tradition. Lance had called his parents to ask if it was okay for Keith to come along, but despite their agreement, Keith still feels this looming sense of being out of place, like there's a neon sign hanging above his head that reads intruder.
He doesn't know how to sing a holiday carol or decorate a Christmas tree or build a snowman or whatever else it is that Lance is so excited about. He won't be able to fit in.
Well, it's not anything new. Keith has gone his whole life not fitting in, so it shouldn't be such a big deal. But, no matter how many times he repeats that in his head, he can't seem to convince himself to believe it.
Because, bitterly, he wants to fit in. Lance may be a pain in the ass roommate who takes up all of Keith's space and doesn't know how to slow down that motormouth of his, but he is still Keith's genuine friend. Months of making instant noodles together at 2am and watching reruns of shitty dramas and hanging out at an empty parking lot will do that to you, though Keith won't get into the details.
So, screw him, he doesn't want to fuck Lance's holiday up, but as the airport comes into view, it seems like he's already halfway there.
They stumble out of the cab and thank the driver. Lance is rubbing sleep out of his eyes, leaning onto his comically large blue suitcase. Keith has no clue what's in there. He doesn't think he wants to know.
"We've got three hours before our flight," Keith says once he glances at their tickets. "Let's go check-in our bags before we get some food."
"If I don't get coffee in the next thirty minutes, I'm going to collapse," Lance complains, but he nods and begins lugging his suitcase towards the entrance of the airport.
Thankfully, because Lance booked a fuck ass timing for their flight, the airport isn't very busy. Their check-in process goes smoothly and soon, they find themselves holed up in an overpriced café, each nursing a steaming cup of coffee. Keith keeps his eyes on Lance's fingers, always trimmed and well-groomed, and tries not to think about his impending doom.
"—Are you even listening? Keith!"
Keith jumps, nearly spilling his drink as his eyes snap up to Lance's, which are squinted in confusion and slight irritation. "What?"
"I asked if you brought gloves with you."
"Oh. Do my motorcycle gloves count?"
Lance hums. "I guess. If you don't mind them getting wet, then sure. 'Kay, you can go back to dreamland now."
Keith huffs at the slight sass in Lance's tone, but he doesn't argue, too tired and worried for it. That, however, signals to Lance that something's wrong, for he sets down his cup, the irritation in his eyes giving way to something softer. "Hey. Are you scared of planes or something?"
Keith gives him an unimpressed look. "I'm majoring in aviation and you're asking me if I'm scared of planes?"
Lance shrugs, raising his hands in defence. "It was an educated guess. You flinched at the announcement for another flight earlier, plus you look like every second that passes by is giving you even more severe constipation."
"I didn't need that example, thanks."
"You're welcome!" Lance grins. He sobers up quickly, kicking Keith from under the table. "What is it, man? I promise I won't laugh."
Keith bites back a harsh comeback. He knows Lance is trying to help, even if his rare kind gesture makes him feel like poison is seeping through his veins. He'd much rather Lance laugh at him and make a snide remark about how much of an insecure scaredy cat he's being or something—at least that is familiarity.
Recently, though, and maybe even for a while now, Lance has been much nicer to Keith, his perceptiveness and thoughtful insights making him an easy person to confide in. Keith doesn't know what that says about him, or even them, but he doesn't like what he doesn't know, so he doesn't think too hard about it.
Lance is still waiting, watching with open but careful eyes, and Keith feels his resolve crumble.
"I'm going to be a bore this trip," he says bluntly. "I'm going to be confused about everything and not get half your references and also, I hate the cold, so I'll be a bitch if we have to go out."
Lance's eyebrows raise in surprise. "So, you're going to be your usual, grumpy, prickly self? I don't know why you're telling me that. I know."
Keith makes a frustrated noise. "You're not supposed to say that! You're supposed to regret bringing me along with you, especially after you realise how much I don't fit in with you and the rest of your family!"
A beat of silence passes.
Then, Lance throws his head back and cackles, uncaring of the looks they get and how it echoes throughout the empty café.
"You're ridiculous," he says in between laughter, all while Keith stares at him with growing confusion swirling in his chest. "You haven't even met my family. And what's all that you said about not knowing things? Marco is hitting his thirties and he still gets the lyrics to All I Want For Christmas wrong. We're not going to get mad at you for something like that."
Keith flushes, unable to retort. "W-well, but it's a pain to try to include someone in your… special family stuff, isn't it?"
"Nah," Lance answers, easily and breezily, like it's the simplest thing in the world. Keith hates how he feels so taken aback by such a simple reply. "It's actually a the more the merrier situation when it comes to my mama. There's no such thing as too many mouths to feed or too many people to play."
Keith struggles for something to hang onto, just to stay stubborn. "...I still don't like the cold."
"Well, you're going to be delighted to find that it doesn't snow in Cuba," Lance replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Keith sends him a glare that holds no heat. "It does get really windy at night 'cause we're so near the beach, but it's nothing worse than what we've handled here before."
"I guess…" Keith relents.
"Are you really so insistent on having a bad time?" Lance asks, and it feels like a slap on the face as much as a gentle prod.
"I just, I don't know." Keith makes a vague waving motion with his hand. "I don't want to ruin your holiday."
He expects another ill-timed joke from Lance about how miserable he's being or how his face in the morning is enough to ruin anyone's holiday. Instead, all he gets is a soft, understanding smile, one that makes his stomach flip and something weird stir in his chest.
"You won't," Lance assures, so confident that Keith is inclined to believe him. "I talk about you to my mama all the time. She's been wanting to meet you for the longest time and she's so excited for you to come. It feels like she's more excited about you than me, actually." Lance wrinkles his nose, and Keith finds himself laughing despite it all.
"So, like, just chill, man. I promise you'll have a good time. We all will. No one's ruining anything. Not unless Veronica decides to drag us ice skating at the pop-up rink again. Then my tailbone and my dignity might get ruined."
Keith snorts. "Your dignity is always ruined when you wear those silly lion slippers to bed."
As Lance lets out an indignant squawk, Keith's shoulders untense and he finds himself feeling a lot better.
The moment they exit the airport, dragging their suitcases along and bickering about which route would have been faster, they are bombarded by a large group of people, each holding a signboard of varying sizes, though all of them read the same thing: Welcome home!
Lance's eyes immediately well up with tears even as he tries to play it off, and his family laughs, passing him around like he's a hot potato for a round of hugs. Keith stands a bit to the side, listening as everyone starts talking over each other. A young girl tugs on Lance's shirt excitedly and Lance scoops her up while continuing his argument with one of his siblings.
"You must be Keith," someone says, dragging him out of his post-flight haze. He turns, coming face-to-face with a short woman with soft brown eyes and prominent wrinkles when she smiles. "I'm Lance's mother. It's so nice of you to join us!"
"O-oh," Keith says, wincing at how weak his voice sounds. "Yeah, thanks for having me."
Her eyes crinkle. "You're so polite! Even if Lance says otherwise."
"It's true!" Lance yells from where he's currently struggling out of a headlock by a large, beefy looking guy. "Keith's an evil devil under that smile!"
"Don't say that about your friend," she scolds, patting Keith's shoulder. "By the way, he'll have to stay with you in your room, so be a good host, okay?"
"Yeah, of course," Lance says, finally pulling his head away. "I'm always a good host, Ma."
She chuckles like she was expecting the response. "I'm just making sure."
To leave the airport, they all pile into a minivan that Lance's father owns, except for who Keith learns as Luis, who drives another car with his wife and two kids. Keith finds himself squished on the left, with Lance in the middle and loudly complaining about it, while Veronica tells him to shut up on his right.
It's about an hour ride full of chatter, everyone's energy at an all-time high. Despite their ribbing, Keith can tell that Lance's family loves him dearly, bouncing off his jokes like it's nothing. It's like he's the centre that grounds them together, a magnetic force that they all orbit. He practically glows with happiness.
A slight feeling of envy crawls up Keith's throat but he shoves it down in favour of enjoying the atmosphere, letting himself soak it all in.
When they arrive at their destination, they pull up to a driveway generously decorated with potted flowers. Keith is one of the last out of the car, watching as Lance's siblings race towards the door, already tugging their shoes off and getting yelled at by their mother to slow down. Lance's father helps Keith with their suitcases, dragging them over.
"We'll head up to place our things first!" Lance yells, grabbing Keith's wrist and tugging him through the mass of limbs. Keith stumbles after, muttering apologies and narrowly avoiding crashing into a very nice looking potted plant at the entrance. Wow, the McClains must love potted plants or something.
They climb up the staircase and Lance leads him to a room furthest down the corridor on the left. When he pushes it open, he coughs, making a dramatic, sour expression. "I haven't been back in forever. If Rachel stole anything from me I'm going to kill her."
Keith steps in, looking around. It's a very bare room, kind of what he expected, considering the number of things Lance brought to college. The walls are a sweet shade of baby blue and the floor, like the rest of the house, is made of dark oak wood. There's a bed at the corner of the room, just by the window with sheer white curtains. An empty desk and a drawer with a few framed pictures on it fill up the rest of the space,
In the centre, there lies a round rug with star patterns all over it. After Keith places their bags down, he catches sight of some posters hanging up as well, some of movies he recognises that Lance likes, some space-related stuff, and one that just reads in bright pink bubble letters, THE HUNTER BECOMES THE HUNTED!
Lance tugs off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly onto his bed and flops onto the floor. He begins digging through his bag.
"You're an unpack immediately kind of guy?" Keith asks with a raised eyebrow. That's not what he remembers Lance, the guy who took a whole week before moving all his clothes from his suitcase to the dorm's closet, to be.
"Only when I'm home," Lance replies with a sunny grin. "You can head down first if you want. Ma is probably preparing fruit by now. Oh, one thing you should know about my family is that we love fruits. I never went a day without some."
Keith smiles back. "I do like fruit."
Despite the hesitance he feels at the idea of venturing off alone, he heeds Lance's suggestion, turning on his heel and slipping out of the room. His heart thunders nervously in his chest as he walks down the stairs, turning to where he hears the most voices. Keith finds himself in the living room, where a large Christmas tree is placed, along with a massive couch and some bean bags to match.
"Keith, come have some fruit!" Lance's mother, predictably, calls. There's a bowl of green grapes and cantaloupe on the coffee table.
Keith ends up between Lance's sisters—Veronica kindly passes him a fork and Rachel laughs at something on the TV screen. As he's eating, Veronica leans over, a slight smirk on her face that is extremely reminiscent of Lance's own. "So, Keith, how has rooming with Lance been?"
Keith takes the time to chew and swallow, internally impressed at how fresh the grapes are, before answering. "An adventure."
"That sure sums it up!" Rachel snickers. "Does he steal all your things? Take up endless space? Burst into songs randomly at midnight while he's studying?"
Keith blinks at the barrage of questions. Thankfully, he only has one answer to all of them. "Yes. Yeah, exactly all that."
"Oh, you poor soul." Veronica's smirk softens, though there's still a quiet mischief swirling in her eyes. She pulls off her glasses, absentmindedly wiping the lenses with her sleeve. "It must be troublesome living with him, then?"
"Uh," Keith says, frowning, "that's not really the word I'd use. He's not troublesome. He likes to annoy me and pick a fight with me, but it's not something I mind in the long run."
Saying it aloud shocks even Keith himself. He's never thought too hard about whether or not Lance was a bother, especially because it was so easy to quip back at him and let their conversation fall into friendly banter. Sure, Keith hates when Lance steals the yoghurt he was saving for himself in the fridge, and Lance gripes about Keith's morning alarms interrupting his beauty sleep all the time, but it's never… serious.
When he really thinks about it, they actually get along pretty well. In fact, Keith would say he even likes living with Lance, who does his chores on time and has pretty good taste in movies and always ensures Keith is—
"Veronica, are you talking shit about me?" comes Lance's shriek. A few muffled footsteps and a yelp of pain later, Lance appears, sliding into the living room and glaring at his sister.
"Nope," Veronica says, sharing a glance with Keith. "Keith was saying that you're a pain in the ass, that's all."
"I didn't say that! I said he's not a pain in the ass."
"Gee, thanks," Lance mutters with an eye roll, but he shrugs it off, stealing the cantaloupe from Keith's fork. "Anyway, what's the plan?"
"We're having dinner together later and then exploring the Christmas market that just opened up nearby," Marco replies. "And doing last minute gift shopping."
Keith glances at the Christmas tree, specifically at the base, which is already overflowing with presents. He winces, wondering how many more gifts you could possibly add to it.
"Oh, Ma bought matching sweaters for us to wear, by the way," Luis calls, holding his kids up with one arm each. A collective groan fills the room.
"They're always so ugly," Rachel complains, burying her face in her hands. "How am I going to take cute pictures at the market if I'm going to look like the Grinch's cousin?"
"Doesn't the Grinch hate Christmas? I don't think he'd wear a holiday sweater," Veronica muses.
"It's about the concept."
"You children always love to complain but you wear them anyway," Lance's mother says as she walks in with a large bundle of sweaters in her arms. She grins, distributing them. They're all with varying winter designs, the only common factor being the base colour, which is a deep maroon.
Keith jumps when a sweater is dumped onto his lap. He lifts it up, seeing an image of a reindeer with a large, red nose, and snowflakes around it. Lance looks over and snorts. "Welcome to the family, Keith. You can't escape this tradition."
Everyone else is still talking, comparing sweater designs and ribbing each other for what they got, but Keith's ears are ringing.
Welcome to the family?
Lance doesn't pay him any mind, trying and failing to get Marco to swap sweaters with him. Keith remains squished between Lance's sisters, his grip on his own sweater tightening as his heart flutters unsteadily.
Huh.
"The sweater isn't that bad," he says, mostly to himself. "It's kind of cute. Shiro would love them."
"That's 'cause Shiro has the taste of a fifty-year-old grandma," Lance jabs.
"Are you calling me a grandmother, Lance?"
"Of course not, Ma!" Lance rushes to say, and a wave of laughter fills the room.
Yeah, Keith thinks, hiding a grin into the sweater as warmth floods his veins, it's awesome, actually.
Dinner is the same as every second in the McClain household—filled with chaos, joy, and most of all, love.
Keith eats until he thinks he physically cannot stomach any more, and then Lance's mother brings out dessert, which looks so appetising that he simply cannot resist. When he's had his fill, he listens to Marco and Veronica debate about the existence of aliens versus ghosts, watches Lance bond with his niece and nephew, and so on.
Eventually, he excuses himself for a bit, heading up to Lance's room. He promised he'd call Shiro when he could.
He dials Shiro's number, who picks up after the third ring. It's a video call, and the screen expands to show Shiro sitting on a couch. If Keith looks further back, he thinks he can make out the shape of Adam's body milling about in the kitchen.
"Keith!" Shiro greets with a wide smile. "Where are you? Things are good, judging by the look on your face."
"Lance's room. Hi, Shiro," Keith says. In the background of the call, he hears Adam yell out his greetings too. "And Adam. Yeah, it's been nice. Lance's family is nicer than I expected."
"That's good," Shiro laughs. "Though, with the way Lance talks about you, I wouldn't be surprised that his family is already trying to adopt you. They'll steal you from me if I'm not careful."
Keith huffs. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"
"Saying what?"
"That Lance speaks really highly of me or something, I don't know."
There's silence for a few seconds. Then, Shiro snorts, poorly disguising it with a cough. "Keith, have you seen how he talks about you? I think there might be actual stars in his eyes when he does. And it's always Keith this and Keith that. It's like he's in love."
Keith frowns. "Lance just likes to talk. He's not in love with me."
"Sure," Shiro agrees dismissively, and something odd twists in Keith's gut. "Anyway, I hope you're enjoying yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't make it, or even bring you along with me this year."
"It's fine," Keith says with a shrug, though his mind is still stuck on Shiro's earlier words. "We're heading to a Christmas market soon. I think it's near the beach."
"Oh, that'll be interesting," Shiro says with a nod. "Stay safe. Let me know how it goes, okay?"
"Of course. Bye." Keith waves at the camera, smiling when Shiro waves back. Once the call ends, he pockets his phone, and just in time, Lance walks in.
He's already wearing his own sweater, which consists of the same shade of maroon and dark blue accents. A large snow globe sits in the centre.
"We're heading out soon, you ready to go?" Lance asks. Keith shrugs, picking up his own sweater and tugging it over his head. Instantly, Lance bursts out laughing, coming closer.
"Your hair!" he giggles, reaching out. His fingers run through Keith's hair, smoothing it down, gentle and careful, and Keith's breath stutters.
"Thanks," he mumbles. "Let's go."
They join the others who are waiting for them outside. Once they're gathered, they begin walking to where the Christmas market is.
Arriving at the entrance, Keith requires a second to take it all in, looking around in awe. A large arch entrance greets them as they walk in, its fairy lights twinkling green and red. A massive Christmas tree lies in the centre, towering over all the stalls that are adorned with festive decor. Everywhere Keith turns, he sees more flashing lights, ornaments of all kinds, and a smile on someone's face.
Soft ringing bells play in his ears as Lance brightens, nudging him in excitement. "Isn't it so pretty?"
Keith turns to him—his skin aglow with happiness, sparkles reflecting in his eyes, shadows dancing over the dips in his face, and his heart twists. "Yeah, it is."
Lance's grin only widens. "Let's go explore!"
They walk around with the others for a bit, fawning over the variety of decorations and taking pictures by the Christmas tree. There's a fountain covered in trailing, drooping lights, making it look like vines are crawling all over it. Some toy elves line the edge of the fountain and Lance squats down with a giggle, snapping a few photos.
Keith spends most of his time looking through the stalls, wondering what they sell. Other than the typical Christmas decor, there's also a bunch of warm, comforting food, and gifts of all kinds. He gets himself a cup of hot chocolate despite it not actually being cold, just for the vibes, and a pair of silly socks for Shiro, tucking it in his bag.
At some point, he and Lance separate from the others. Lance doesn't seem to have noticed it, not that Keith can blame him. There's just so much to see and take in, and Lance notices every little thing, pointing them all out to Keith as they walk.
"They're selling candles over there!" Lance says, pointing in the distance. Keith follows his finger to a stall with rows and rows of candles, a warm, inviting glow luring them in.
He follows Lance over, glancing through the selection. Lance picks up one of the candles, showing it to Keith. "I should get Allura one of these. I think her favourite scent is vanilla..?"
"Mhm," Keith hums absentmindedly. A thought suddenly rises to the surface. "Hey, Lance. What do you want for Christmas?"
Lance's hands still. He turns to Keith, eyes wide with surprise. "Eh? You don't have to! I didn't get you anything either—"
"You invited me along with your family," Keith points out, his voice uncharacteristically shy. "That's the biggest present I've ever gotten."
To his surprise, Lance ducks his head, hiding away from his gaze. The tips of his ears grow red as he shrugs, clearing his throat. "It's fine, man, really. You coming along is more than enough."
Keith bites down on the inner part of his cheek, watching as Lance pays for the candle and gets it in a little gift bag. His stomach flutters with a sensation that's starting to get much too familiar the more he spends time with Lance.
Ah, shit.
"Oh, Luis said there's gonna be a light show soon," Lance says, hurrying away. "Don't wanna miss that, haha—"
"I'm gonna head to the bathroom first," Keith says. Lance glances back at him, giving him a quick nod.
"Sure, just meet us at the fountain."
Once Lance is out of sight, Keith checks his surroundings before dashing away, a new goal in mind.
As he walks through the streets, he wracks his brain for what might be a good present for Lance. On the surface, there's lots of things he could get that would easily please him—a wooden musical box, a reindeer figurine, a nice notebook and pen set… Lance likes a lot of things. He's not hard to get a gift for.
But Keith wants something that Lance will love.
"—with personalised messages!"
Keith pauses, turning his head to the source of the voice. When he walks up to the stall, the owner, dressed up as Santa Claus, smiles at him. "Do you have a message for a loved one, young man?"
Keith looks at the rows and rows of teddy bears lining the stall, each of them dressed in an adorable sweater and Santa hat. "What are these?"
"They're built with recorders in them, so you can leave a message and give it to a loved one, who can play it back by doing this." He picks up a teddy, pressing on its heart. A crackling noise emits from the stuffed toy. "Merry Christmas! Hope business is going well—I've got a fresh plate of cookies waiting for you when you get back. Love you!"
Keith pictures Lance's reaction and immediately grimaces. He'd probably burst out laughing and call Keith lame and never look at him ever again. Also, this seems to be a more coupley thing, which is absolutely not what they are, so—
"We also have these," the owner says, oblivious to Keith's minor crisis. He picks up a snow globe and flips a switch. The globe lights up, revealing a picture of the owner and what Keith assumes is his partner, smiling together. Flecks of snow fly up when he shakes the globe.
"You can upload a photo through this code and it'll show up in one of the globes," he explains. "Do you have a photo you'd like to use?"
"Yeah," Keith mumbles, surprising even himself at how easy the answer is. "Hold on."
He takes out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll. He knows exactly what he's looking for.
His thumb lands on a photo taken just a few months after Keith and Lance became roommates for the first time. They snuck onto a rooftop at a friend of a friend's New Year's party—Rolo knew too many people for his own good—catching a breath of fresh air. There wasn't much to see on a college campus, but the sky was clear and the stars were out, twinkling sweetly, and Lance had reached out in awe, as if trying to capture them in the palm of his hands.
"Look how pretty they are," Lance whispers, like he would choose to live among the stars if possible. "Let's take a photo."
"For what?" Keith asks even as he lets Lance drag him into the camera's frame. "You can't even see the stars like this."
"But they're there," Lance argues, putting on a wide grin. "That's all that matters, isn't it?"
Keith shows the photo to the owner, who hums in approval. "Seems like an important memory."
"I guess," Keith mumbles. His cheeks feel a little hot as the owner helps him upload the photo before wrapping the globe up in an elegant gift bag. "Thanks."
"Merry Christmas!" he calls, waving.
Keith finds the others at the fountain, just as promised. Veronica notices the bag in his hand and gestures to it with a questioning look.
"It's for Lance," he whispers.
"Ooh, I see." Her eyes twinkle. "Let me know how it goes."
"H-how what goes?" he asks, but Lance is already bouncing up to him, gushing about the upcoming light show and how excited he is.
"Wait," Keith interrupts, albeit a little apologetically. "Can we go somewhere a little more private?"
Lance tilts his head, his eyes searching. "Do you need a breather?"
"Something like that."
Lance, bless his soul, doesn't question it, and begins leading him away from the crowd. They end up at a secluded corner of the market, just by a stall selling Christmas ornaments, its warm lights casting a soft glow over them. Keith takes a deep breath, holding out the gift bag, and watches as Lance's eyes flutter prettily, a shocked gasp leaving his lips.
"It's just a small gift," he mumbles. "Don't expect too much."
Lance doesn't say anything as he opens the bag, pulling the snow globe out. A flicker of confusion crosses his eyes as he fiddles with it, but it clears when he notices the switch. He flicks it, and Keith sees the photo he picked out light up, surrounded by bits of snowflakes.
Lance gasps, holding it up and letting out a little laugh. "Keith, what the hell! This is so cute!"
Keith flushes. "It's nothing…"
"Wait, was this on the rooftop at Rolo's party?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't think you'd even remember that. You didn't seem to want to take the photo that time." Lance's thumb traces over the globe, his lips parted in awe. "...Thank you. I really love it."
Keith breathes out a sigh of relief. "You're welcome."
"I, um, I have something for you too." Lance laughs, reaching into his bag. Keith takes a step back in surprise as Lance takes out a hippo keychain with the letter K embroidered on the centre. "Though it's kind of lame now, looking at your present."
The hippo stares up at him with large, boba-like eyes. It's a soft shade of purple and Keith—
"I never told you I liked hippos," he says, taking the keychain and cradling it.
"Yeah you did. It was the same night of the party, actually. You said Shiro used to take you to the zoo just for the hippos."
"I… How did you remember that? Even I don't."
Lance smiles. "I remember a lot about you, Keith."
A beat of silence passes. Lance seems to realise how that comes off and immediately backtracks, waving his hands around. "N-not that I'm, like, stalking you or anything! That would be weird. I just have really good memory! Uh, and we're going to miss the light show—"
"Thank you," Keith interrupts, his cheeks burning when Lance cuts off and stares at him, something akin to reverence in his eyes. "Really. It's amazing."
Lance huffs out a laugh, looking away. "No problem. Come on, let's get going."
He hesitates, glancing around. And then he reaches out, offering a hand to Keith, and Keith takes it without a doubt, sliding their fingers together. Palm against palm, shoulders brushing against each other's, they walk back to the others while sharing a small, secretive smile.
Keith lets the feelings fester in his heart, something new and exciting glowing in his chest. They may not show themselves now, maybe only in the near future, but as Lance gasps over the magical light show, his hand tightening around Keith's, Keith thinks that he doesn't have to do anything about it now. Besides, he's got the rest of the holiday to spend with Lance and his family.
As long as the love is there, that's all that matters, isn't it?