Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Pidge!” Lance yells. He’s running full speed down the side of the field, right hand just above his shoulder where Pidge can see it. His legs are burning, the hour of playing is really starting to catch up to him. The sun is starting to set, angled just right that he almost can’t see the net in front of him. His chest is heaving and each breath feels like fire going down his throat, but he pushes forward. He’s not going to let this opening pass, he won’t let himself miss another chance to score this game. His cleats dig into the dirt as he looks back and forth between Pidge and the net. Lance sees the moment Pidge winds up and sends the ball to him with perfect precision. Their pass holds more force than people ever expect, so it gets to Lance’s foot before the other team can even look his way. He pushes forward, keeping the ball close to his feet as he closes the small gap left between him and his shooting range. He can feel their defense closing in on him, but he doesn’t panic. He’s close enough. He swings his leg back and hits the ball with as much force as he has left. 

He snaps his head up, watching as the ball disappears into the sun that’s now at eye level. He squints against it and he swears his breath catches in his throat when he hears the ball hit the net. Everything around him freezes for a second, but then bodies are slamming into him and a grin spreads across his face. He lets his teammates push him around, drinking up every cheer and scream from them. This is his element. This is why he’s a striker. There is nothing like the feeling of getting a game winning goal. Lance feels like he’s floating, like every nerve in his body is lit up with excitement and pure joy. He feels Pidge crash into him- their bone crushing force is hard to miss -and it only makes him smile more. He loves this team more than anything else on the entire planet.

“You guys fucking did it again,” Rolo says, patting Lance’s back harshly, “I don’t know how you do it.” Lance stumbles slightly at the harsh contact, but he still smiles at his teammate and shakes his head. Honestly, he’s not sure how he and Pidge managed to figure out their power as a duo. They only met at tryouts for the soccer team, but Pidge immediately caught his eye. The way they could move so fast and push so hard, yet still be half Lance’s side amazed him. He literally ran up to them after the tryouts and begged them to stay a bit longer so he could see more of their skills. Their unexpected friendship only blossomed from there. 

“Look, ask them, they’re the alien,” Lance says, messing up the hair on the top of Pidge’s head. They grumble and slap his hand away, and Lance makes sure to gasp and hold it to his chest dramatically. Pidge just rolls their eyes and brings their attention over to Rolo. 

“Maybe if you showed up to more than half the practices, you’d understand it better,” Pidge says. Lance hisses, but there’s a smirk hidden under the noise. He’s glad Pidge has the balls to humble Rolo. That piece of shit is really damn lucky he’s a good defenseman. The amount of attitude he has is miles more than Lance… and that’s saying a lot. Lance gets moody very easily and very often. Lance watches the expression on Rolo’s face drop, but he doesn’t feel bad at all. Rolo doesn’t deserve to be happy about their win, his lack of commitment to the team is comical. Rolo just scoffs, and turns to celebrate with other assholes on the team. Lance brings his attention back to Pidge and easily catches them when they jump onto his back. “So, big shot, you won us the game.” Lance hums and starts walking them towards their team's bench. 

“ We won us the game,” Lance corrects, “you always complain about my ego being way too big, are you sure you want to make it bigger?” Lance can’t see them, but he’s certain Pidge rolls their eyes based on how deep their sigh is. He’s honestly surprised Pidge has put up with him for three years. Sometimes he can’t even handle himself, he’s not entirely sure how Pidge does it. Before Pidge can say their rebuttal though, Hunk is barreling towards them at an alarming speed. His hands are out at his sides and there’s a stupidly big grin on his face. Lance immediately feels calmer seeing his friend approach. He’s really glad Hunk has been his best friend since third grade, his warmth has helped Lance more than he would ever admit. When Hunk stops in front of them, he reaches both of his hands forward for high fives, and Pidge and Lance each send a hand out to meet his. 

“What did I say? I knew you guys would win,” Hunk says, “I didn’t doubt it for a second.” Hunk has been their number one supporter since they joined the team. Lance honestly doesn’t think he would have made it this far without Hunk as his cheerleader. Especially when they lost their first two games in the tournament last year, sending them home two weeks early. Lance was about ready to quit the team. But Hunk baked him a box of cookies good enough to keep him from quitting. Pidge slides off of Lance’s back and immediately leans all of their weight on Hunk. 

“I think we deserve victory milkshakes,” Lance says, carding his hand through his sweaty hair. He watches with amusement as Pidge rubs their sweaty hair all over Hunk’s shoulder, earning some not so scary grumbling in response. 

“I’m all for shakes, but you guys should probably go join your team, looks like the captain is about to do his speech,” Hunk says. Lance rolls his eyes and turns to look over to where their captain is standing. He honestly has nothing against the guy, he’s just boring. And his speech is the same after every game. It gets pretty damn repetitive. Before he can really protest, Pidge is grabbing his wrist, dragging him towards the circle their team has formed. He follows them reluctantly and squeezes into the circle just as the speech starts. He zones out as the words go in one ear and out the other, thinking about next season. Next year is his final year on this team. His final year to prove that he can be the best striker not only on his team, but in the region. He can already feel the excitement. He can hear people cheering for his goals, can feel his team rushing him when he scores the winning goal. Can imagine the tsunami of emotions when he scores the final goal of his highschool career. 

“Lance?” His thoughts are cut short, the images of his team crying tears of joy swiped out from under his nose. He turns to look at Pidge, lips pressed into a thin line. He hates getting caught when he’s zoned out. He hates that people know that he’s been doing anything but paying attention. He looks away from her and at the circle that is now dissipating. He somehow managed to zone out for the entire speech. He’s honestly kind of impressed with himself. They make their way back over to Hunk and waste no time driving to the nearest ice cream store. Tomorrow is when they’ll actually celebrate, but they still have one day of school left before summer. Lance has learned the hard way not to miss the last day. Teachers normally take that day to help prepare students for the classes they chose for the next year. It’s also when the seniors do their final walk of the hall. It’s a stupidly dramatic thing, with the marching band trailing behind them, but Lance loves it. He’s always been one for drama. 

–

The second the final bell rings, Lance is nearly jumping out of his chair. As much as he likes coming to school to see his friends, the actual work is a nightmare. His grades aren’t bad or anything, he just hates doing the work. If he wasn’t on the soccer team, he’d probably have a lot less motivation to do well in school. He’d be at home playing video games instead of finishing an assignment so his grades stay high enough for him to stay on the team. His mom is also a terrifying person. Last time Lance got a grade lower than a B, he thought he was going to get kicked out. His mom apologized later, but the fear is still deep in Lance’s bones. He watches as his classmates rush into the hall, cheering and yelling as they push towards the door. It’s shockingly similar to what highschool looked like in the movies. Before he can join the crowd though, his physics teacher calls him over. Lance sighs, hopefully out of his earshot, and walks over to his desk. 

“Mr. Coran,” Lance says, “what’s poppin’?” Lance easily perches himself on his teachers desk, hardly paying attention to the very full cup of coffee he nearly knocks over. His teacher is looking at him with a raised eyebrow, one hip cocked to the side as his arms cross over his chest. Lance can’t help but smile slightly. He really can’t take his teacher seriously with that squirrel of a mustache on his face. 

“Must you always address me like that?” Mr. Coran asks. Lance just shrugs, picking at the bracelet tied tightly around his wrist. He really needs to wash it, the yellow string has absorbed a lot of dirt over this soccer season. Mr. Coran sighs and lets his arms relax. “Right, I’ll get to the point, I can imagine you’d like to go home.” 

“Indeed,” Lance says, mocking Mr. Coran’s accent. Mr. Coran brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking a short, but deep breath. Lance seems to have a way of getting on people’s nerves. Somehow, people still tolerate him. It’s a miracle. 

“Look, I know your final grades won’t be released until next week, but I wanted to discuss yours with you briefly,” Mr. Coran says. Lance’s smile immediately drops and his shoulders slump just slightly. Mr. Coran’s voice is level and steady, so he has no idea what exactly they’re about to discuss. As far as he knows, his grades aren’t too bad in this class, he actually likes physics. But maybe he’s actually failing and he just didn’t notice and his mom is going to kill him- “it’s a good thing, please don’t make that face.” 

Lance lets his face relax -he was definitely frowning- and looks at Mr. Coran with piqued curiosity. It’s not often his grades are good enough to need discussing. Does Mr. Coran think he’s cheating? Is he going to get kicked out of school because his last assignment was perfect? He really needs to keep his mind from spiraling so easily. “Lay it on me then, I’m ready.” Mr. Coran chuckles under his breath and opens the top right drawer of his desk. He pulls out a manila folder that has Lance’s name written on it in squiggly letters. It looks like he’s about to open it and show Lance his x-ray results. Who even uses manila folders anymore? But when he opens it, there are no broken bones or medical results. Instead, it’s the very familiar cover page of Lance’s most recent assignment. The one worth ‘all the money’ as Mr. Coran kept emphasizing. 

“You had the highest grade in this class this year,” Mr. Coran says. Lance forgets to breathe for a second. Best in the class? Pidge has this class the period before him. Did he do better than them? Is that even possible? He’s not sure exactly what’s going on, but he feels the need to look for hidden cameras or someone hiding behind a desk. This has to be a prank. Some weird, twisted prank that some stupid asshole thought was funny. It was probably Rolo and his stupid face. “Lance? Did you hear me?” Lance snaps out his head, the image of Rolo’s scowl fading away. 

“Yeah, sorry. Yes, I did,” Lance says, “are you saying I did the best in my class, or in the grade? I need concise word choice here. Help a guy out.” He’s rambling. He’s saying too much, like he always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t let himself have this false hope that maybe he actually did something worthwhile. That maybe he can do more than kick a ball into a net. His head is spinning trying to remember every word he wrote on the paper, every number and symbol and equation. What did he do that was so different? Did someone else’s assignment get swapped with his? 

“Best in the grade, my boy, that’s why I wanted to talk about it,” Mr. Coran says, “your understanding of astrophysics is impeccable. Your level of comprehension is higher than I’ve seen in almost any student.” Lance wishes he could just take this victory and go. He wishes he could accept his accomplishment and accept the praise without his brain latching onto the rest of Mr. Coran’s sentence. 

“Almost any student? But I thought I was the highest in the grade?” Lance says. He knows it’s a shitty thing to say. He knows that his teacher doesn’t want him diminishing his own accomplishments, but he can’t help it. He’s competitive down to his very last bone. He needs to know who he’s up against, even if they graduated ten years ago and work for NASA now. His grades suddenly matter a whole lot more. 

“I suppose I’m not meant to tell you, but I see no harm in a friendly competition,” Mr. Coran says, “I’m not sure you’ll know the name, he keeps to himself, but a student of mine last year was beyond belief. First ever 100% I’ve given on this assignment. You’re not far off.” Lance looks down at the bright red 98% that’s on the corner of his assignment. 2% suddenly feels like a lot. It feels like the difference between NASA and being a bus driver. 

“What’s his name?” Lance asks. He’s sure Mr. Coran won’t say it. There’s some sort of confidentiality with grades. Only share them if the student permits it or whatever, but Lance doesn’t care. This guy is a grade above him, he’s never going to see him. The seniors are done. Gone forever. Lance will be the new top dog. 

“Keith,” Mr. Coran says, “a bright kid. A bit of a troubling attitude, but that seems to be common with the smart ones.” He looks at Lance pointedly and he raises his hands in surrender. He’ll take the insult coated compliment. Mr. Coran thinks he’s smart. That’s probably enough to keep him feeling high and mighty for a whole week. 

“Well, it’s unfortunate my rival has graduated,” Lance says. Mr. Coran shakes his head, slipping the folder back into the drawer. 

“Look, Lance, I think you should consider our high-science program. It’ll give you some really good opportunities, and there are even a couple trips to the NASA facilities,” Mr. Coran says, “I’d hate to see someone with a mind like yours left behind.” He hands Lance a laminated pamphlet with a picture of some random kid next to an authentic space suit. He takes it, looking over the small paragraph at the bottom of the cover. “Just think about it, okay? I know you’re really into your sports and I can appreciate that, but this could be really good for you.” Lance opens the first flap of the pamphlet and sees the dates for the scheduled trips, meetings and showcases. He sees a lot of overlap with the soccer tournaments. 

“Thanks,” Lance says, closing the pamphlet and shoving it, only somewhat gently, into his back pocket as he hops off of the desk, “I’ll think about it. Promise.” Mr. Coran smiles at him in that way that pushes his mustache up to his eyes. Lance can’t help but smile back, even as his brain starts to think a million things at once. What is a person supposed to do when two of their dreams collide? 

He finds Hunk and Pidge outside, leaning against the bumped up van Hunk calls his baby. Honestly, that thing has seen a lot. Like the first time Lance blacked out and puked out of the window on the highway. Or when Pidge dislocated their knee and popped in back in on the way to the hospital, purely to avoid the hospital (they had to go anyway, turns out they popped it back in wrong). Or even that time when Hunk dropped the entire batch of cupcakes he made for his girlfriend's family and cried in the front seat for ten minutes. And all of that happened just this year. Thank goodness for Hunk and his early birthday and driver's license. Lance would probably die if he had to take the bus again. 

He walks up to them, ignoring the way the pamphlet is burning a hole into his back pocket. He has the whole summer to consider it. For now, he’s going to focus on the excited buzz around him as summer starts. The students around him are happier than ever and he can feel that energy seeping into him. He forgets about school and soccer and homework and stress, he just lets his mind wander to beaches and ice cream and movie marathons. When Hunk spots him, he waves excitedly, dangling his keys in his hands. This is their first summer with someone who can drive. Their possibilities are truly endless. Well, as endless as their part time paychecks can take them. 

“Lance! Buddy! Ready to get your summer on?” Hunk asks. Pidge grins up at him with a mischievous look in their eyes. Lance doesn’t like it. He knows that look. That look means trouble and a potential lecture from his mom in the coming days. Lance ignores it for now in favour of looking at Hunk’s blinding grin. 

“Hmmm, I’d say so,” Lance says playfully, meeting Hunk’s fist for a rather dramatic bump. Pidge rolls their eyes at them, but there’s a quirk to their lips. They can’t hide their amusement around him and Hunk anymore. “I think I can literally hear the beach calling my name. Do you guys hear that?” He whispers his name under his breath a couple times and earns himself some exasperated laughter. 

“The beach is going to have to wait,” Pidge says. Their voice is low, like they’re about to tell a deep dark secret, but Lance knows better. Lance knows this means they’re about to suggest the most gremlin-like idea ever heard on this planet, “there’s this abandoned barn that Matt found and we’re totally going there.” Lance stands up straight at that, his spine suddenly cold. He’s not a particularly scared person. He likes the odd slasher film and he loves a good haunted house, but real ghosts? Yeah, he really doesn’t mess with that. He does not need to be possessed, thank you very much. He looks over and sees the expected fear on Hunk’s face as well. Thank goodness for Hunk and his ability to think rationally. 

“That sounds dangerous,” Hunk says. Lance nods enthusiastically, wrapping his arm around Hunk’s broad shoulders the best he can. 

“I second that,” Lance says, “an abandoned barn sounds like the perfect setup for a horror movie. I mean look at us, we’re the perfect cast. All we need is some shockingly hot chick to complete the group.” Pidge glares at him, adjusting their glasses to Lance can really see how much venom is in the look. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Pidge says, “and who says the chick has to be ‘shockingly hot’, why can’t she just be normal?” Hunk scoffs and puts a heavy hand on Pidge’s shoulder. They glare at him, crossing their arms with a frustrated huff. 

“This is how we know you only watch lame indie films,” Hunk says, “it’s literally in the definition of slasher movies. Someone has to be hot, someone has to be a nerd,” he looks directly at Pidge, “someone has to be anything other than white and someone has to be an idiot.” He looks at Lance apologetically, but Lance doesn’t take any offense. The stupid jock characters are always the funniest. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Pidge grumbles, “but come on. It would be super fun. Matt can show us how to get in and everything. We won’t need to risk getting tetanus from a rusty fence.” Pidge is normally really good at convincing Lance and Hunk to do stupid shit, but they’re doing a pretty bad job at it right now. Lance can understand doing stupid shit at night -they literally left a toilet on someone’s lawn once, just cause they could- but this is beyond stupid. It’s illegal, dangerous and could leave him with a haunted demon to follow him around. No thanks. 

“Do you not understand how scary ghosts are? What if a spirit attaches itself to you and sabotages our soccer games?” Lance says. He throws his hands up for dramatic effect, but all Pidge does is shrug. They really aren’t going to change their mind on this. 

“Look, we’ll be in a group. Us plus Matt and his buddy. The worst thing we’ll see is some homeless person pissing in the corner. It’s fine. People explore this place all the time,” Pidge says, “wasn’t you who said you only live once, so try everything once?” They look at Lance, squinting behind their glasses. Lance sighs and lets his resolve crumble slightly. He hates when his own words get used against him. 

“I don’t know, sounds scary,” Hunk says, “I mean, what if we run into other people there? What if they’re the kind of people who like- I don’t know, throw beer bottles at us.” Pidge sighs and honestly, Lance is with them on this one. Lance thought Hunk was on his side, but they are on very different pages. Real people aren’t as scary as the ones you can’t see. 

“Fine, I’m in as long as you promise you won’t ever tell my mom we did this. She is very much not a fan of- well she doesn’t want me breaking the law,” Lance says. Pidge just grins, sticking out their fist between Hunk and Lance. With weighted sighs, they meet their fist in the middle for a three way bump. 

“To summer!” Pidge exclaims, yanking the passenger door open, “get in losers, we have some shopping to do.” Lance and Hunk share a glance. There’s no backing out now. 

–

Lance thought he was more than okay with this whole abandoned barn thing, but now that he’s squished between Matt and his friend in the back of the van, he’s starting to get really nervous. The sun is just setting and there’s a full moon. Of course there’s a full moon. Not only are they going to be surrounded by ghosts, but werewolves and vampires might join the party. 

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” Hunk says. He’s the one driving and he could very easily turn around and drive as far as possible, but he doesn’t. Honestly, Lance can’t blame him, with Pidge in the passenger seat, that’s about as close to a death wish as you can get. Once Pidge has their mind set on something, there’s no changing it. 

“Because it’s going to be super fun and you’re going to have a great time,” Matt says. Lance sighs. Pidge and Matt are nothing but trouble when they’re in the same room. Look, Lance likes a good sibling relationship, he understands how deep that connection can go, but Matt and Pidge are something else entirely. They become the spawn of Satan when they’re together. It’s like every bad idea they’ve ever had gets amplified. The fact that Matt’s bag is suspiciously Ouija board shaped is only proving his point further. 

“If I’m haunted for the rest of my life, I’m blaming the Holts,” Lance says, “may your family be cursed just as bad as I am in that scenario.”  Hunk chuckles from the driver's seat and he seems to earn some amused laughter from the aforementioned Holts. He brings his attention to the very silent man next to him. “What was it? Shiro? Do you think this is a good idea?” Shiro turns to look at Lance with an eyebrow raised. He looks at Lance like the answer is obvious, as if he should know just based on the way his eyebrow is raised. 

“I’m not sure I could say no to Matt,” Shiro says with a shrug, “he’s a scary guy.” Lance just looks at him skeptically. Sure, Matt may be just as much of a demon as Pidge, but Shiro is like… he’s a fucking unit. His shoulders are just as broad as Hunk’s and his entire body seems to be covered in thick, strong muscles. His jaw is sharp, his features mature but friendly. Everything about him screams strong. He genuinely can’t imagine him being scared of Matt. Lance isn’t even scared of Matt, not the way he’s scared of Pidge. Is Pidge absolutely certain they’re just good buddies? “Why are you looking at me like that?” Shiro asks. Lance just shrugs and swivels his head to look at Matt the same way. 

“Just thinking,” Lance says. He hears Pidge snort from the front, but he ignores them. Matt seems to crumble under his gaze quicker and a light flush comes over his cheeks. That’s all Lance needs. He crosses his arms and leans back with a satisfied sigh. He can’t say he expected Shiro to be Matt’s type, but he also can’t blame him. Shiro is fucking hot. 

“Lance, can you not scrutinize my brother and his friend,” Pidge says after a while, “they’re the reason we’re getting in here without a giant pair of wire cutters.” Lance rolls his eyes and meets their eyes when they look back at him. 

“With your brain? Are you kidding, you’d be pulling up with some laser cutter or something,” Lance says. Hunk hums in agreement and it just makes Pidge mumble something under their breath before turning back to face the front. 

“Are you guys always like this?” Shiro asks. Lance looks at him, eyebrows pinched together. Shiro raises his hands in surrender and smiles, “hey, just an innocent question.” Lance shakes his head and turns forward without saying another word. His facade only lasts so long when he sees Pidge trying, and failing, to swat at a bug that has made it into the van. The rest of the drive consists of muffled laughter and playful insults. Lance starts to forget what they’re actually doing, and it just feels like he’s hanging out with his friends in one of their basements. Shiro seems to fit in pretty well, and Lance is happy about it for Matt’s sake. Matt looks at him like Shiro has the answer to every problem he’s ever had. 

When Hunk takes a sharp right turn, all of the nerves jump back into Lance’s stomach. He watches as the barn gets closer and closer. He shivers as tree branches scrape against the side of the van. He’s immediately on edge, and he can feel Shiro and Matt tense up next to him. He’s glad he’s not the only one who’s a bit nervous. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as Hunk closes the last bit of distance to the barn. When the van comes to a stop, he opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. The barn is huge. It’s made of wood and it’s falling apart and rotting in too many places to count. The red paint is chipping off and every piece of metal on the exterior is completely rusted. 

“Holy shit,” Hunk says. 

“Dido,” Lance says. 

Pidge just turns around in their seat to look at them with pure excitement in their eyes. Lance takes a deep breath. They’re really doing this. They’re going to walk into a deathtrap and they’re going to be part of some stupid horror movie. He can’t believe his life has led him to this point. He’s too young to die. 

“Matt, give me the bag, I need the flashlights,” Pidge says. Matt doesn’t waste a second to shove the bag into their arms and swing the door of the van open. Lance shivers as the cool air of the night hits him, and he’s really starting to regret this whole thing. Why couldn’t they have just gotten a little bit too drunk in Pidge’s basement like normal highschoolers? Why did Pidge have to drag them into their weird spooky shit? 

“Guys, are we sure we won’t get in trouble for this?” Lance asks. Hunk hums in agreement and Pidge just rolls their eyes, practically jumping out of the car. Lance watches as they round the front and yank Hunk’s door open, making him gasp slightly. Hunk must be very on edge. Lance can’t blame him. 

“You guys are so dramatic,” Pidge says, “even if ghosts are real, they have no reason to haunt us, we’re not that special.” Hunk takes a shaky breath and gets out of the van, shutting the engine off. The stark silence it leaves them in rattles Lance’s bones for a second. 

“Besides, none of us have dead enemies,” Matt says, but then he narrows his eyes and looks at all of them suspiciously, “right?” Lance can’t help but laugh softly. He does have his friends around him. They have the power of numbers. Plus, Shiro and Hunk probably look pretty fucking scary from a distance. Lance is going to pretend they’re his bodyguards. 

“Now get your asses out of the car, I’m already getting bored,” Pidge says. Lance sighs and crawls out of the car. He hears Shiro getting out of the other side and with a final slam, all of the doors of the van are closed. It is still frighteningly silent around them, but Lance finds a small comfort in the crickets and trees rustling in the wind. It reminds him of his peaceful and very safe backyard. He would really love to be in his backyard right now. Matt walks up next to him and flicks his ear and he jumps. He turns to scowl at him and Matt just smiles at him innocently. 

“Stop looking so tense, I promise I wouldn’t bring you here if it was dangerous,” Matt says, “you guys are like my honorary little siblings,” he ruffles Lance’s hair, “plus my mom would actually murder me if anything happened to you guys.” Lance grumbles and crosses his arms, but honestly it does make him feel a bit better. He does trust Matt. He may only be four years older than Lance, but he did spend a lot of time at Pidge’s house during highschool so far. Matt is definitely like a brother to him. Lance looks past the car and watches as Pidge jumps all over Hunk. There’s the ghost of a smile on his face, but he’s trying to stay as still as a statue. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Shiro asks, coming up beside them. Lance only jumps slightly and turns to face him, tilting his chin up slightly to see him properly. Damn he’s tall. How has Matt never mentioned his extremely hot friend before? 

“We’re talking about you protecting us from the demons,” Lance says. Matt chuckles and Lance just takes a short breath and looks between the two. 

“I mean, I’m not against that, but that’s not what we were talking about,” Matt says, “just letting this guy know he doesn’t need to be scared.” Lance sighs and glares at Matt and he just shrugs. He’s fine with Matt throwing him under the bus. He’d do it too if Shiro was looking at him like that. 

“I know my prosthetic arm looks cool, but it doesn’t have any weapons,” Shiro says, wrapping said prosthetic arm around Matt's shoulders. Matt flushes and Lance finds it sort of adorable. In the three years he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him flustered before. But Shiro seems to be pretty damn good at it. 

“Hey losers, get over here,” Pidge says, “it’s not gonna be dark forever.” They are currently clinging to Hunk’s back, waving a flashlight at them enthusiastically. Hunk’s lips are pressed into a thin line, but Lance can tell some of his nerves have eased as well. Honestly, Lance is starting to get excited. He feels like a real teenager. And sure, they might be walking into the beginning of a horror movie, but at least they’re together. When they get to Pidge, Shiro’s arm is still around Matt and Pidge shares a knowing glance with Lance. He smiles and pulls Pidge off of Hunk’s back and they make it to the secret entrance Matt knew all about. It’s a decently sized hole in the fence that’s directly in front of a hole in the barn. 

“How did you find this?” Hunk asks, “do you prowl abandoned places regularly?” Matt shrugs, but it earns him a skeptical look from Shiro. He crumbles almost immediately under Shiro’s gaze. 

“I get bored sometimes when I can’t sleep, so I just end up exploring,” Matt says. Shiro’s arm slips off of him and he grabs both of his shoulders so they’re facing each other. Lance smirks and leans his weight back on Hunk as he watches them. Pidge just sighs and starts walking through the hole in the fence.

“You do stuff like this alone?” Shiro asks with genuine concern. Matt looks down at his feet and mumbles something under his breath that Lance can’t hear. Shiro shakes his head and lightly hits the side of Matt’s head. “Call me when you do that, okay? I don’t like the thought of you out here alone.” Lance smiles. The hopeless romantic in him is eating this up. He wonders what has actually been established between them or if he’s actively getting to watch things unfold. 

“Alright dad, can we go now?” Pidge yells from the other side of the fence. Lance looks between and watches as Shiro lets go of Matt, clearing his throat as he walks forward. Lance has a feeling he’s going to get to watch this unfold. Lance has never heard Pidge call someone dad. He squints at Shiro and studies his face. 

“How old are you?” Lance asks, following behind Shiro as Matt scrambles to keep up with them. Shiro chuckles and holds up a section of the fence so Lance can walk through. If Lance had to guess, he’d say no older than 23. But he could also be 35 and just look really damn good for his age. It’s hard to tell. 

“I’m 24,” Shiro says, holding the fence up as Matt and Hunk walk through. Once they’re all past it, Pidge is waiting for them at the hole in the barn, yawning dramatically. “Ancient compared to you, huh?” Damn. Lance likes when guys are older than him, but that’s like a lifetime. 

“I mean, I’m not that young,” Lance says, watching as his friends start to slip into the building, “I’m like super mature and grown up.” Shiro laughs softly and kicks Lance’s heel to get him moving towards the entrance. 

“You’re like basically my brother's age, that makes you a baby,” Shiro says, “now get into the barn before they leave us behind.” Lance sighs, but he pushes forward, but he turns to whisper to Shiro just before they’re in earshot. 

“I don’t think Matt would leave you behind,” Lance says with a small smirk. He watches as Shiro’s posture straightens slightly and the slightest little blush crawls over his cheeks. 

–

Lance is actually really glad he decided to come to this barn. Exploring has been some of the most fun he’s had in a while. He forgot how much fun it is to just fuck around with his friends and forget about everything else in his life. They’ve basically gone around every little corner, looking at every little thing they can. It’s full of hushed laughter and playful shoving. Lance completely forgets to be scared and by the time they’re sitting in a circle, he’s completely calm and content. Until Pidge pulls out the Ouija board. Then it all comes crashing back to him and he shrinks in on himself, grabbing Hunk’s arm. 

“Who’s ready to talk to some ghosts?” Pidge asks with that stupid evil smirk on their face. Lance and Hunk shake their heads, holding onto each other for dear life. Matt springs to life at the question, leaning forward to inspect the board as Pidge sets the planchet in the middle. 

“How does this work?” Shiro asks. Matt is quick to turn to him and he starts going on a small ramble about the Ouija board and all of the history behind it. Shiro listens intently and seems genuinely interested. May love that pure find him one day. Once the lengthy explanation is done, Pidge makes them all scoot closer and they sit around the board in silence. They only have one flashlight on, sitting on the ground behind Pidge, shining a bright circle on the ceiling. 

“Okay, so we’ll have Lance and Hunk go first,” Pidge says mischievously. Hunk freezes and Lance glares at them. He doesn’t know what they’re up to, just that it definitely can’t be good. He quite literally would rather do anything else. Hell, he’d rather be sitting in his stupid history class than sitting here right now. 

“Why?” Hunk asks. His voice is shaky and Lance is sure his wouldn’t come out much better. Pidge just has an eyebrow raised, a devilish smirk playing at their lips. He glances over at Matt and Shiro and sees them pressed together, with similar looks of apprehension on their faces. So much for Matt telling him not to be nervous. 

“Look, I just want to get things going, I promise nothing bad will happen,” Pidge says, “I doubt there are even any ghosts here. Plus, you guys look terrified, it will be hilarious.” Lance rolls his eyes and finally lets go of Hunk’s bicep. Hunk whines slightly in protest, but scoots forward with Lance regardless. They sit next to each other, knees bumping as they reach forward to put their fingers on the planchet. They both look up at Pidge expectantly. 

“Say hello,” Matt says, “ask if there are any entities that wanna talk with us. We’ll know the answer pretty quickly.” With a shaky breath, Lance turns to look at Hunk and they nod at the same time. Fuck it, they might as well do this. Pidge is probably right, there’s no chance there are actually ghosts in here. No one died here, no one was trapped or hurt here. It’s just a regular barn succumbing to the trials of time. 

“Hello,” Lance says. He’s proud of how steady his voice comes out. Hunk is breathing rapidly next to him, but Lance tries to ignore it to calm his own nerves, “are there any entities in here that would like to talk with us?” His voice is shakier when the full sentence comes out, but he hardly has any time to think about that when he looks down. The planchet is moving, very slowly, towards the ‘yes’ on the board. Lance holds his breath, silently freaking out as it moves. 

“Are you doing that?” Hunk asks in a panic. Lance shakes his head violently. 

“I thought you were moving it!” Lance exclaims, watching in horror as it continues to move. They go back and forth staring at each other and the planchet until it reaches yes. Once it does, they sit there in a tense silence, unsure of how to proceed. Then Pidge, being the demon they are, suddenly lunges at them, screaming a random string of syllables. Lance is certain he screams loud enough for the entire planet to hear him. He grumbles, looking at the planchet now on the other side of the room. Hunk has a hand to his heart and Lance has his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Pidge is holding their side, laughing so hard there are tears forming in their eyes. 

“Holy shit, you should have seen your faces,” Pidge says, “did you see that?” They look to Matt and Shiro, who just nod slightly, seemingly also recovering from Pidge’s scream. 

“How the fuck was that thing moving?” Lance asks once his heart slows to a reasonable rate. Pidge smirks and cracks their knuckles, adjusting their glasses on their nose. Matt sighs like he knows exactly what Pidge is going to say. 

“I made you guys go first cause people who are scared move it subconsciously,” Pidge says with a shrug, “that’s how Ouija boards work. Your little micromovements push it along.” Lance sighs and slumps against Hunk. Remind him again why he’s even friends with this loser? Things are a lot less scary after that and they all take turns messing around with the board, asking stupid questions and making up stupid answers. 

An hour or so later and they’re all in a corner of the barn where some old wooden benches line the wall. Pidge is laying on the floor, telling some story about a field trip where they almost died, Hunk and Lance are sharing a chair, using each other to stay warm in the cool night air, and Shiro and Matt are cuddled together on a bench and Lance can see Shiro’s prosthetic hand holding Matt’s gently. He wonders if that’s a regular occurrence for them. Eventually, Pidge runs out of stories to tell and Lance swears his lips are starting to turn blue from being cold (despite it being the start of summer), so they head back to the van, making sure to pick up anything they left behind or knocked over. 

The van is a welcome sight as Lance realizes just how tired he is. He slips into the back seat, letting Shiro and Matt sit next to each other this time. Hunk starts the van up, letting Pidge take control of the music. Thankfully, they seem to be tired too, so the music is much more tame than normal, allowing Lance to look out at the stars with a soft smile on his face. He’s really glad to have his friends in his life. He’s not entirely sure what he’d do without them.

Chapter Text

The first half of the summer goes by way too quickly. It’s a flash of beach days, working at his stupid summer job of scooping ice cream and training for soccer. It’s exactly what he wanted. But the pamphlet on his desk keeps gathering dust, and he looks at it every night before he goes to bed. He hasn’t told his friends yet. He’s not sure he can. How is he possibly supposed to make this choice? Why does his future depend on what his 16 year old brain decides? He’s supposed to be mindlessly splashing water at his friends. Snobby customers at the ice cream parlor are supposed to be the biggest of his concerns. But here he is, sitting at his desk on a random Wednesday, staring at the stupid pamphlet like it’s the root of all evil. In a way it is. It’s making him pick between his two biggest dreams. He thought that part came later in life. He thought that was the mid life crisis part of life, not the mid highschool crisis part of life. Isn’t he supposed to be worrying about friends and romance? 

He picks the pamphlet up and opens it, staring daggers into the schedule. He stares at it for ten seconds before he flicks his gaze up to the paper pinned above his PC. The dates of all the soccer practices and tournaments are scrawled onto the page, quickly copied down from the document his coach showed him. 15 of the 20 games and tournaments overlap with the dates printed in the pamphlet. That means he’d only play a quarter of the games in his final year of soccer. He can’t possibly be the top striker if he’s not there. But this high-science program is a once in a lifetime chance for him. He’s never been bad at school, but he’s also never been anything special. He’s never been offered something like this. Something that gives him an option for a career that’s not sport related. He’s deep into a staring contest with his wall when a knock at his door startles him. 

“I told you, I want alone time Marco,” Lance says, smacking the pamphlet down with frustration. He loves his family to the moon and back, but sometimes, he really does need to be alone in his room. And he really doesn’t need his family to influence this decision. This is a choice he wants to make on his own. He can do this. His door cracks open, and instead of Marco’s mischievous grin, he’s met with his mom’s stern glare. He sighs and turns to face her fully, covering the pamphlet with his back.  

“Marco isn’t even home right now,” his mom says, walking further into his room. Lance just smiles at her, trying to hide the conflict that was clear on his face. His mom has a talent for reading his mind, but he really hopes he can keep this one quiet. Her face softens and she stops to stand in front of him. He tenses, hoping the pamphlet isn’t in her field of view. He knows what she’ll say. She’ll tell him he’s an idiot if he even considers picking soccer. She loves his passion for the sport, but she doesn’t like the idea of him pursuing it as a career. “Is everything okay? You’ve been locked up in here all day.” 

Lance sighs and taps his fingers on his legs. He’s not ready to have this conversation with his mom. He’s not even ready to have this conversation with himself, he’s spent a month ignoring it. He knows he’s probably being dramatic, that his older self is going to look back and laugh at him, but this feels like a big deal. It feels like life or death right now. “Just tired from work,” Lance offers, “and I think I’ve been staying up too late with Pidge and Hunk recently. You know, teenage stuff.” 

His mom smiles at him and leans forward to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He relaxes slightly under the touch, like he always does when his mom tries to comfort him. She’s always been so warm and comforting for him. Her hugs are like a warm sunny day and Lance can only imagine how much he’ll miss them when he moves out, “You can be a teenager and have fun and still get rest,” his mom says, only slightly stern. There’s a small smile on her lips that Lance recognizes as pride. “I’m glad you’re getting out there more this summer, I wish you had done that water polo league with your cousins though.” 

Lance shakes his head and shudders slightly. He may love swimming more than most things in life, but water polo? It just feels wrong to throw a ball around with his hands. It’s like soccer for people who can’t run on land. Not to mention the fact that his cousins are on the team that’s currently in last place. Lance can’t say he’s a fan of losing. He knows it’s for fun, but he definitely wouldn’t be having fun. 

“I know, soccer this, soccer that,” his moms says, laughing softly. She takes her hand off of his shoulder and steps back to cross her arms. Lance smiles up at her and does his best to keep eye contact with her. If he looks away, she’ll definitely know that something is wrong. “I just think you’re way more athletic than just soccer. I think you’d do amazing at any other sport.” 

“I don’t need any other sport,” Lance says, “I love soccer.” His moms nods and takes a deep breath. He knows the tone she’s using and he knows she just wants the best for him, but it still doesn’t change the facts. He’s spent years mastering his skills as a striker. Sure, he can do a decent rally in tennis, or he can throw a football pretty damn far, but soccer is where his dreams are. Soccer has a passion that nothing else has. 

“You used to be the same exact way about swimming, honey,” his mom says, “and you were amazing. But then you got bored. You won enough that you wanted a new challenge. Maybe you should see what other challenges are out there.” Lance pauses at that. He turns to look at the small shelf above his bed. The evening sun reflects off the row of small trophies, all representing his records and first place wins. He spent most of his early life in pools. From the first time he felt the ocean back in Cuba, to the final lap he swam in eight grade, Lance was always in the water. It’s why his youngest brother calls him fishy more than his actual name. 

“I guess you have a point… it’s just-” It’s just that stupid pamphlet behind him. That stupid high-science program. The stupid dreams that he can’t have at the same time, “it feels different. I was good at swimming, and I loved it, but I didn’t like the competition.” His mom smiles knowingly and his drops his head slightly, “I didn’t like them at the end-” 

“Which is my point exactly. What happens once you’re the best striker on your team? Then what? What happens when you finish all of your highschool tournaments and it becomes a job, not a sport?” His mom asks. He knows she wants more for him. She wouldn’t stop him from pursuing soccer, but she wants him to use his mind elsewhere. She always claims his athletic abilities don’t come anywhere near his clever mind. He thinks she’s biased. 

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why people expect me to know the answers to everything when I’m not even old enough to have a credit card,” Lance says. He drops his shoulders slightly and lets out a long breath. He’s being too loud and harsh, but he’s got a lot bottled up and his mom is pressing the wrong buttons at the wrong time. “I just want to stop thinking about my future for a second.” She softens her gaze and seems to take down her stern facade. 

“I know it’s hard, I had to go through the same thing,” his mom says, “I just want you to experience everything you can.” Lance nods. He knows. He’s always wanted to live through experiences. He wants to travel the world and meet new people and taste new foods. He wants to do everything there is to do, but that’s easier said than done. There’s comfort in the sport he loves and the people he knows. “I’ll leave you be, try to let yourself relax a bit, okay?” 

Lance nods. His mom starts walking out of his room, turning once at the door to smile at him softly. Once she’s out of the room and the door is gently closed behind her, Lance lets out a long, relieved breath. He can’t find it in him to turn around. He can’t look at that stupid pamphlet and the stupid soccer schedule. He doesn’t want to think about it. But he has no plans tonight. He doesn’t feel like playing video games, he doesn’t feel like practicing soccer, he doesn’t feel like doing anything. All he can do is let his mind wander. 

–

“Lance, did you hear that?” Pidge says. Lance snaps his eyes away from the window, leaning toward the center seat so he can properly see Pidge and Hunk. He was lost in the trees and buildings flashing by, hypnotized by the late afternoon sun. 

“Hunk said I was the coolest person ever and that I’ve never been wrong before?” Lance says. He looks between them, but he knows they can hear the hesitation in his voice. He knows he’s been getting worse at hiding his emotions lately. There are two weeks left until he’s back to school for his senior year, and he still hasn’t made a decision. The pamphlet is tucked under a pile of unread books on his desk and his soccer schedule is flipped against the wall. He’s done everything except think about it. Pidge sighs. 

“No, Hunk said there’s a tournament going on at the beach,” Pidge says, “are you down for some healthy competition?” Lance can’t help but grin at that. If there’s one thing Lance loves, it’s competition. It’s what got him into soccer in the first place. The desire to win, to be the best. 

“What kind of tournament are we talking about here?” Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows. He can use this to distract himself. A healthy competition is exactly what he needs right now. And if he has Hunk and Pidge on his side, there’s not doubt they’ll do well. They have top tier synergy. Maybe the best synergy that anyone has ever had. 

“Beach volleyball,” Hunk says, “remember that one summer we played with your family? We were like… Batman and Robin. The world's most dynamic duo.” Pidge snorts from the passenger seat, but Hunk just grins, keeping his eyes on the road. He and Lance did have a good system set up. Hunk has always been tall and Lance’s limbs have always been lanky. Their combination of blocking and digging worked out pretty well against his family, all things considered. 

“That was also like six years ago,” Pidge says, “who knows if you’d be able to do anything nearly as cool now.” Lance rolls his eyes and leans back against the seat, glaring at Pidge even though they’re not looking at him. He hopes his glare penetrates the headrest and burns their mop of hair off. 

“You better not be talking, you’re like 2 feet tall. What are you gonna do? Block spikes?” Lance teases. Pidge turns around at that, tilting their head down to look at him over their glasses. The look in their eyes is evil and Lance would be scared if they weren’t actively belted down to their seat. 

“Guys, we’re supposed to be a team, let's not start fighting, no one will want to join us,” Hunk says, “do I need to remind you volleyball takes six people?” Despite Hunk’s best attempts, the rest of the drive to the beach is made up entirely of small, stupid arguments. It’s mostly Lance and Pidge arguing about who’s height gives them the true advantage and Hunk trying to pacify them. They end up agreeing to disagree when Hunk pulls the car to a stop and uses his best puppy dog eyes. It’s just about impossible to say no to Hunk when he does the smallest of pouts. 

The beach is busy and Lance scans the area, observing all of the happy people around him. There are big families and small groups of friends. There are couples and people with their dogs and even some older couples walking along the water. The fight fills Lance with a buzzing warmth and excitement. It’s a familiar feeling, a feeling that reminds him of being a kid. He doesn’t often miss home, he was pretty young when his family left Cuba, but moments like these make him crave the crystal clear water. 

“Okay, so we have another group of three here you guys can join,” the coordinator says, looking down at her clipboard, “you guys will make up the tenth team. They’re just over there .” Lance looks over to where she’s looking and he can’t help but grin. Those three people are damn tall. And damn tall is what they need. Especially since Pidge is basically half of a person in this setting. Though he’d never say that to them, he likes having his limbs attached personally. When he looks back over to Hunk and Pidge, he’s delighted to see the look on Hunk’s face. Just as he expected. The damn tall girl in that group of three is the walking definition of Hunk’s type. 

“Hey buddy, you’re catching flies,” Lance says, raising an eyebrow. Hunk seems to startle at that, snapping his eyes away from the girl. He looks at Lance and a light flush comes over his cheeks. It’s not often Lance gets to see Hunk flustered like this and he’s going to enjoy it, “hey Pidge, get a load of this guy.” He juts a thumb towards Hunk who just sputters for a second before giving up, crossing his arms with a huff. 

“She’s quite a beauty,” Pidge says thoughtfully, “you better play well today. Impress the lady.” Lance nods and pats his friend on the shoulder gently. 

“You might need to remember how to talk though,” Lance says, “I can’t imagine she’ll be a fan of a brick wall.” Hunk sighs and finally seems to regain himself. He glares at both of them, crossing his arms. He’s trying to look angry, but it doesn’t work, it just has Lance and Pidge stifling laughter behind their hands. 

“I can talk just fine,” Hunk says, “now come on, we should go meet them. I think the games start soon.” He starts walking towards the three others. The closer he gets, the more he sees the resemblance between the tallest players. Once they notice them, they smile and Lance immediately feels extremely welcome. There’s this warm sort of comfort exuding from them and Lance feels like their chances of winning have increased significantly. Not only are these people tall, they are built. Like crush Lance’s head with one hand kind of built.  

“Hey,” Lance says casually, “I think we’re your new teammates.” He extends his hand to the tall guy on the team who takes it firmly. His hand is unexpectedly rough and Lance feels shorter than he ever has. And he’s not even short. He’s literally above average height, “I’m Lance, the honorary team captain, nice to meet you.” 

The guy raises an eyebrow, but Lance just grins, shoulders square and confident. “I’m Rax, that’s my sister Shay and our friend Mike. Nice to meet you guys.” Lance lets their hands separate and he takes a step back to motion to his friends. 

“Right, the big guy is Hunk and that’s Pidge,” Lance says. When he looks back at them, Hunk is tense and his cheeks are slightly pink. Pidge is nudging him with a devilish grin on their face, one that Lance knows very well. Pidge is going to be the worst person for this entire game unless Hunk grows a pair and talks to Shay. 

“I’m looking forward to playing with you guys,” Shay says. Their friend Mike, who’s barely taller than Pidge pushes forward, standing in front of the other two. It looks like he’s standing in front of his two royal guards. Lance has to bite down the laughter starting to form in his throat. 

“You better be good, we don’t lose,” Mike says. Shay sighs and grabs his arm, dragging him to stand behind her. She pinches her brows together and smiles at them apologetically. 

“Sorry about him, he gets competitive, why don’t we go warm up,” Shay says. Then end up warming up for a while, waiting for the organizers to get things going. Hunk is terrible at first and he seems to get more and more nervous as he goes, and unfortunately for him, Pidge and Lance won’t stop teasing him with their glances. When the actual game starts, Shay has them gather in a circle, and when she places her arm over Hunk’s shoulders, he seems to relax. It’s like the touch reminded him how to function in her presence. They make a line up, mixing their heights in the most equal way possible. 

Lance honestly hasn’t thought about volleyball in years. It’s something he’s played a few times with his family and a couple times in gym class. He knows the rules and he knows that his long limbs. But he also knows his legs are his strength. He has reflexes and strength and dexterity with his legs. He can kick a ball with perfect accuracy, but he’s not sure the same will apply to his hands. He’s not sure how the sand will affect his reflexes. He’s not nervous, he’s just… unsure. He’s dedicated so much to soccer, he’s not sure how his other athletic abilities are at this point. 

“Alright, Lance you’re up to serve first,” Pidge says, “start us off strong buddy.” Lance grins, spinning the ball in his hand. It’s been years since Lance has served a volleyball, but the weight of the ball feels comfortable in his hand. He looks up at the net and he feels the familiar tightness of anticipation in his chest. His veins ignite with competitive fire and he takes a step back, taking a deep breath. He ignores the sounds around him and tosses the ball into the air, swinging his arm back. He palm meets the ball with a satisfying smack and he watches as the ball glides through the air, cutting across their side of the court. He squints when it reaches the net, just barely tapping the top of the net. He holds his breath, watching as it hesitates in the air for a moment before falling tilting back and landing on their own side. 

His shoulders drop and he lets out a long breath. That familiar disappointment hits his stomach, but something stronger floods his entire mind and body. Determination. The familiar fire ignites in his fingers, all the way to his head, down to his toes. He barely even watches as the ball is kicked to the other team. He hardly acknowledges the point added to the other team. He focuses on the way the ball felt in his hand and the unstoppable urge to serve again. To hit the ball with the perfect angle. To watch it slice through the air and leave the other team confused. He doesn’t even realize, until the other team serves, that he’s feeling the way he does when he scores a goal in soccer, and he hasn’t even gotten them a point yet. 

–

Lance’s phone vibrates against his bed for the tenth time in a row and he looks at it just as annoyed as before. School starts in three days and he still hasn’t made a decision. To be fair, he hasn’t exactly talked to any of his friends about it. He’s avoided his moms questions. He’s avoided basically everything the past couple days. He feels kinda pathetic for not being able to make a decision. There are literally only two options, but he still can’t pick one. He’s weighed his choices and he just… can’t. How is he supposed to pick between something like this? He turns his head to glance at his phone and his brows pinch when he sees the name. Hunk and Pidge have called him a bunch of times, but Matt? Lance can’t remember the last time Matt called him. 

“Hey?” Lance says, voice slightly hoarse from the crying he was doing earlier. He cringes, but he forces himself to sit up and stretch out his shoulders. His joints pop and some of the tension in his neck releases. 

“Lance! Buddy! I need a massive favour from you,” Matt says, “I’ll grill you about ignoring my siblings calls later.” Lance sighs and he has to physically stop himself from hanging up. It’s not like he wants to ignore his friends, he just feels like he can’t talk to them without crumbling. He’s not good at keeping secrets and this one has been weighing on him heavily. 

“What do you need?” Lance asks. At this point, he’ll take the opportunity to get out of the house. He’s a social creature and cutting himself off does not feel great. 

“So I’m supposed to judge this thing at my old summer camp, you know as an honorary guest of sorts, and Shiro was supposed to come with me,” Matt says, “but, he canceled at the last minute cause of something with his brother. Anyways, wanna come watch some shitty talent show and hold up numbers?” His voice rises at the end, the way it normally does when he feels like he’s not going to get the answer he wants. Lance rolls his neck, ignoring the way it cracks and sends a slight jolt down his spine. 

“I mean, I guess I can help out,” Lance says, “I like to think I’m pretty good with kids. Plus, I’m always curious to see what classifies as talent.” Matt chuckles softly and Lance hears some rustling from his side of the room, then the familiar jingle of keys. He looks down at his ripped pajama pants and hoodie and sighs. 

“Be there in ten, don’t keep me waiting,” Matt says. He doesn’t give Lance a chance to answer, he just hangs up. Lance takes his phone away from his ear and looks at the blank screen, seeing his own unamused reflection. He tries out a grin, hoping it looks genuine enough and tosses his phone to the side. He’s going to need to smile real bright not to hurt these kids feelings. He grabs some jeans and a light blue button up and throws them on, running his fingers through his hair with a bit of water. He sprays some cologne on, brushes his teeth and heads for the door. 

Thankfully his family isn’t home, so his mom isn’t there to question why he has been locked away in his room and his siblings aren’t there to make him do a million things for them. He sits by the door, looking out the window as cars and people pass by. It’s a habit he’s always had since his mom told him it was unacceptable to leave someone waiting when they were driving you anywhere. He’s always sat on the couch by the front window for at least five minutes before he’s supposed to be picked up. He’s come to enjoy the time and he finds it rather peaceful when nobody is home. 

Matt gets there soon after and Lance locks the door behind himself as he walks to the car. He has to admit, after barely moving for the past couple days, it feels good to be outside and walking. Matt spends the entire ride to the camp (which is less than ten minutes) explaining what exactly they have to do. Lance can feel himself getting sort of excited as they pull into the parking lot of the camp. He really does like kids and he’s excited to see what kind of talent they’re going to show. When he was younger, he always did some sort of magic act. He used to think being a magician was his destiny. That dream was short-lived. 

The atmosphere of the camp immediately brings up a sense of nostalgia in Lance’s chest. Although he never went to this specific camp, he did go to summer camps every year when he was younger. It was probably just an excuse for his parents to get him out of the house for some peace and quiet, but it’s honestly some of Lance’s fondest memories. It’s where he met Hunk for the first time too, and that’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He’d probably be dead without Hunk to guide him through life. 

The room for the talent show is smaller than he expected, but there’s a decently sized stage against the back wall and there’s a small table with two chairs set up for them. He can hear the excited buzz of the kids as they sit on the floor to act as the audience. He can practically hear their nerves floating throughout the room and he feels excited for them. There’s something so exhilarating about performing on stage. When they settle into their chairs, they get a few curious glances from the kids, but most of them are too distracted by nerves and excitement to hear them. When the first kid takes his place on stage, a tall, black hat perched on his curly hair, and a wand in hand, Lance grins. This might end up being quite a fun afternoon after all. 

–

“I mean, did you see that kid's backflip? If I could do that at his age, I don’t think I’d ever stop,” Lance says. Him and Matt are walking back to his car after two hours of performances. Honestly, Lance had a really good time and he’s glad Matt got him out of the house. The kids were all amazing and it was actually a really hard decision to pick the top acts. It made Lance miss his old talent shows a lot, but he was happy to see kids just being kids. 

“He’s like one of the coolest kids probably ever, did you see his shoes?” Matt says. They slip into the car and Matt starts it up, cranking the AC. Lance sighs and lets his head rest against the back of the seat, closing his eyes. He feels lighter than he has all week and he lets the cool air brush away any remaining worries. But then Matt takes a deep breath and Lance turns to look at him. 

“You’re going to get mad at me for ignoring Pidge, aren’t you?” Lance asks. Matt nods, lips pursed and looking everywhere but at Lance. In all the years Lance has known Matt, he’s never seen him mad, and right now, it actually looks like it’s painful for him to even bring this up. 

“They’re just worried about you, you’ve never gone quiet like this before,” Matt says, “you can talk to me. What you say in this car will stay in this car.” Lance smiles at him softly and their eyes finally meet. Matt looks sincere and Lance can’t help but drop his guard the smallest bit. Something about those golden eyes both he and Pidge have make it hard to keep secrets. 

“I uh… I guess I’m just having a bit of a conflict of interest right now,” Lance says, “I’m just sort of stressed about something and I know that my friends will be able to tell and I don’t wanna talk about it or think about it and I just- I figured it was easier to just avoid everyone until I made a decision.” He takes a couple shallow breaths at the end of his sentence to catch his breath and only looks at Matt once he’s done talking. The gentle smile is still on Matt’s face, but there’s also a fondness hidden behind it. 

“Look, I can tell you from experience that not talking about things is a shitty way to go about it,” Matt says, “your friends are there to support you, so talking to them about your problems is sort of what you’re supposed to do.” He grabs a pack of gum from his center console and hands a piece to Lance who takes it without hesitation, “so tell me what’s going on. What decision is making you a hermit?” 

Lance chuckles slightly and turns to look out the front window. He’s not sure he can look directly at Matt when he talks. Seeing the looks on Matt's face will only end up making him feel more stupid and pathetic than he already does. “You know the high-science program at my school?” Matt hums excitedly and Lance can’t help but look at him. Matt’s excitement is contagious, “I uh- Mr. Coran wants me to do it, said he’d get me in and that my grades basically guarantee me a spot.” 

“Holy shit, dude that’s awesome, the high-science shit was probably my favourite part of highschool. Pidge is stoked to do it,” Matt says. But then his excitement fades and his brows pinch in confusion, “right, so what exactly is the decision then? Why wouldn’t you do it, you love physics.” Lance sighs and looks down at his hands, watches as his fingers fidget around with each other. 

“Well all of the trips and events and meetings and stuff, they line up perfectly with soccer and I don’t really know what to do,” Lance says, “I’ve played soccer since I started highschool and it’s been my dream to pursue it. I love soccer and I don’t want to give that up.” Matt hums, but Lance’s mind is elsewhere. Pidge. “Wait, you said Pidge was going to be doing the high-science,” Lance says, “what about-” He cuts himself off. 

“Lance, they were going to tell you,” Matt says, filling the silence. 

“When? When I realize they’re not at the first practice of the year? When I have to hear about their trips to NASA while I’m doing drills?” Lance asks. Matt seems to shrink slightly in his seat, but Lance doesn’t really feel bad. 

“No, they wanted to wait until summer was over, they didn’t want to ruin it for you,” Matt says, scratching the back of his neck, “they’re not planning to quit soccer, just quit the starting line up.” Lance rolls his eyes and squeezes his hands in his lap. He wants to be mad at Pidge or Matt, but he’s mostly mad at himself. If he had just talked to Pidge, they could have figured things out together. 

“Well shit, what do I do then?” Lance asks. 

“Follow your heart,” Matt says, like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Lance scowls, but there’s no substance to it and his face falls into a frown just as quickly as it started. 

“I want both. I don’t just want to pursue my mind, I want to pursue my athleticism,” Lance says, “why can’t I have both?” A silence falls over them and it makes Lance’s skin crawl. Normally, silence with Matt is nice, but right now, it feels like the air around them could shatter if he talks. Nothing seems worth saying. 

“What if you can?” Matt asks. Lance looks at him, tilting his head slightly to the side. Now is not the time for one of Matt’s crazy time travel, clone creating paradoxes. Lance needs a real solution, not the plot of an episode of Doctor Who . Matt seems to notice his expression, but he just grins, pulling out his phone, “Let me just call Shiro to make sure this works.” 

“Make sure what works?” Lance asks, crossing his arms. He’s not a fan of suspense. He’s not a fan of having to ask permission for this. He doesn’t know what Shiro has to do with any of this but he doesn’t like it one bit. 

“Did you have fun playing beach volleyball with Pidge and Hunk the other week?” Matt asks. Lance thinks back to the impromptu tournament and something familiar and hot flashes briefly in his chest. He shrugs, trying to look casual, as if he hasn’t been begging Hunk and Pidge to do it again. “Perfect, you might want to get yourself some knee pads and nice shoes.” 

“Matt, what are you planning?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow. Matt isn’t at all phased by the suspicion and he just grins when Shiro picks up the phone. 

“Hey, yeah, yeah, the kids were good, I’ll tell you about it later, I need to ask you something,” Matt says. Lance can’t help but smile at the slight flush on Matt’s cheeks. He’s getting damn tired of these two dancing around their feelings. It’s like watching a cheesy romcom in real time, “you got room for two on the volleyball team?” Lance takes a second to process the words. It takes him a while to piece them together with other things floating around his mind. After a couple more long, painful seconds, Matt flashes Lance a million dollar grin, “problem solved. Welcome to the Voltron volleyball team.”

Chapter Text

Lance watches the cars pass by his window, idly playing with the chain around his neck. His last first day of highschool. It sounds stupid, but for some reason, it feels like a big deal. He’s going to have other first days of school, he still has university or college, but that’s just… different. This feels like a really long chapter of his life coming to an end. He thinks back to ninth grade and how nervous and awkward he was. He had braces, acne and the social skills of a toddler. He’s really happy with how far he’s come since then. He perks up a bit when he sees the familiar dented van pull up in front of his house, and the familiar mop of golden hair hanging out the window with way too much energy for this early in the morning. 

He makes his way to the van, yelling out a quick goodbye to his family who are loudly making breakfast in the kitchen. When the door closes behind him, he’s thankful for the silence, but it’s quickly filled with whatever way-too-loud techno music is coming from the van. Pidge genuinely can’t possibly be a human. Lance doesn’t know how they have consistent energy at all times. Especially since their sleep schedule is nothing short of terrifying. 

“Lance! There’s my guy, good morning!” Pidge yells. Lance rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his lips. He really does love his friends, they make life a lot more bearable. He stops in front of their window and takes the iced coffee they’re holding out to him gratefully. “Extra sugar just for you,” Pidge says, “now get your ass in the car, I need to be first in my class so I get a good seat. I am not going to get stuck next to that guy who coughs for an entire semester.” Lance cringes as he remembers exactly who he’s talking about. He goes into the back seat and buckles in. 

“Are you nervous for today?” Hunk asks, pulling back out into the road. Lance managed to actually talk to his friends and today is the first meeting for the high-science program. Lance isn’t really that nervous for the high-science program, honestly, he’s more nervous for volleyball. With soccer, he knew his place on the team, he knew how things worked and he felt comfortable, but everything about volleyball is new. He’s glad he at least has Pidge with him. And it definitely helps that he knows Shiro. Knowing the coach makes it feel a lot less scary. 

“Nah, I got this science stuff in the bag,” Lance says dismissively, “Pidge is the one who needs to be nervous.” Pidge rolls their eyes and reaches back blindly to smack Lance. He flinches away from it and settles back into his seat. 

“Alright Einstein, we’ll see how long that attitude lasts,” Pidge says. Lance doesn’t bother protesting when I like to move it comes on the speakers of the van. The rest of the car ride there is basically just them screaming lyrics to wake themselves up. The parking lot is mostly full when they get there and the school seems to be buzzing with activity. Everyone seems to have the first day jitters and it makes Lance feel a bit better about feeling like today is a big deal. Unfortunately, they all have separate home rooms, so they disperse quickly so Pidge can get their good seat. Lance walks towards the back of the building where his art class is being held. It was sort of a last minute choice, but he’s glad he decided to do art, it will be a nice contrast to the high-science classes. 

He’s not entirely sure what to expect from this class, he’s not the most artistic person on the planet, but he’s hoping to learn a thing or two. He’s made his fair share of art with his little cousins, nieces and nephews, so he thinks he’ll hold his ground just fine. When he gets to the room, light, happy chatter is spilling out into the hall. He relaxes at the sound and walks into the room. The walls are covered in art, the bright colours immediately filling his vision. There are many round tables scattered around the room and small groups of people are forming around each one. The teacher, a tall, young looking woman, might be one of the most beautiful people Lance has ever seen. She has long, silver hair that flows down her shoulders, complimenting her dark skin perfectly. She’s wearing a flowing blue dress and has golden jewelry all over. Lance should have taken art sooner. 

He looks away from her, with strenuous effort, and turns to the tables. Most of them are decently full and people seem to have purposely taken the class with friends. Lance sighs, not immediately recognizing anyone. He’s quite a social person, but it seems like he never really broke into the art crowd. But then his eyes land on a table in the back corner with only two people sitting there. One is a rather normal looking guy with an obnoxiously bright orange hat on his head, but next to him… Lance’s jaw drops. Sure, his teacher is an actual goddess, but this girl comes in a close second. She’s dark and strong and beautiful. Her eyes are bright as she talks, moving her arms animatedly as she explains something. Lance’s feet are moving towards her before he even processes his thoughts. 

He stops in front of the table, puts on his most charming smirk and leans on an empty chair next to the girl. She pauses her conversion and looks up at him. Her eyes twinkle in the sunlight from the window and Lance’s heart stutters for a moment. He swallows the lump in his throat and straightens his posture. “Is this seat taken?” Right. Perfect Lance. Just say the most cheesy, overused line from every highschool movie ever. Make a fool of yourself in front of the beautiful girl you’ve never seen before. But before he can spiral further, she giggles softly. It’s like the tinkling of bells and it makes Lance’s stomach lurch slightly. 

“It’s yours to take,” she says, folding her hands in front of her. The guy with the hat doesn’t look at Lance, he just leans back in his chair and lets out a long breath. He tosses his back against the wall next to him and settles into the chair. He leans towards the girl ever so slightly, ready to lay on the flirting. 

“So, you’re an artist?” Lance asks playfully. She smiles and rolls her eyes slightly. Good. Lance has seen much worse reactions to his advances. 

“What gave it away?” she replies sarcastically. Lance smiles and brings a finger up to his chin in mock pensiveness. He hums and her laugh only boosts his ego more. 

“I could see it in your eyes, you have art eyes,” Lance says with a satisfied smile, “and before you ask, no I don’t know what that means.” She laughs again and Lance feels a warm buzz in his chest. It’s been a while since he last flirted like this. He was so busy during the school year and more than a bit preoccupied during the summer. It’s nice to let himself relax like this. 

“Well, I’m Nyma,” she says, extending a hand, “that’s Mark,” she nods over her shoulder to the guy with the orange hat. He gives Lance a short wave, but Lance hardly pays attention. He brings his focus back to Nyma, “let me guess, you’re not an artist?” Lance can’t help but chuckle softly. He wonders what gave it away. 

“Not yet,” Lance says, “but I think I have it in me.” She smirks at him and it sends a shiver down his spine. How has he never seen her before? He feels like he would remember someone so stunning. 

“Do you now?” She says, raising an eyebrow, “guess you’ll have to show me.” Lance smiles and puts both hands behind his head, letting his eyes nearly close, but not once looking away from Nyma. 

“Just you wait, you’re going to be my muse,” Lance says. She visibly flushes at this, even if she rolls her eyes, and Lance feels a deep rooted satisfaction. He still has game. Flirty Lance has never failed him. Before she can answer, the teacher clears her throat and everyone snaps their head to her immediately. Her presence is powerful. Lance is intimidated and she hasn’t even said anything yet. 

“Good morning class,” she says. Her voice is hearty and demanding. It holds enough power that Lance can imagine her silencing an entire auditorium. He turns to face her completely and watches as her gaze passes over everyone in the room. “I recognize most of you, but it’s nice to see some fresh faces. I hope that you’re prepared for a year of elevated creativity.” Lance is immediately entranced by the unique colour of her eyes. They somehow seem to be a blend of pink and blue, it’s unlike anything Lance has seen before. 

The starting bell rings, and she looks over at the door as one final student hurries into the room. She doesn’t look impressed and Lance is glad he was on time for once. He has a feeling he should avoid being on her bad side. The announcements roll through the room and everyone listens. Normally, the announcements go in one ear and out the other for Lance, but he’s actually listening today. His hands feel clammy when the high-science meeting is announced for later that week, but every hair on his body stands up when they announce volleyball tryouts for that afternoon. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he doesn’t get a spot. Matt seems convinced he and Pidge will be just fine, but he’s not so sure. 

“Alright, now that those are over, I’ll introduce myself,” she says, “I don’t particularly enjoy formalities in this setting, so just call me Allura.” Her accent feels weirdly familiar and Lance finds himself wracking his brain for where he’s heard it before. Before his brain can reach the conclusion, Allura beats him to it, “as some of you may know, Mr. Coran is my uncle. Despite being a physics teacher, he will stop by here on occasion. He loves the arts.” Lance grins. He had no idea Mr. Coran was into art at all. 

The rest of the class consists of strange drawing exercises and ambient music. Allura walks around the class the entire time, making sure that everyone is on task and letting their creative juices flow. Lance lays heavy on the flirting and Nyma seems to be into it. He’s starting to feel optimistic about this year. Maybe all his lamenting over the high-science and soccer made him into a better person. That or maybe pretty girls make the world go around. 

–

Lance is waiting outside, leaning against the side of Hunk’s van, casually scrolling on his phone. Crowds of students are wandering through the parking lot as people leave for the day. Overall, his day went very well, even when his card wouldn’t work at lunch, forcing his friends to pay for him. But now, leaning against the warm metal of the van, his nerves are starting to come back. In fifteen minutes, he and Pidge will be standing with a line of students, parallel to a net Lance is sure will be in his nightmares. In soccer, the net is the objective, in volleyball, it’s the obstacle. He’s scrolling through Instagram, but he’s not really looking at anything.  

Soon, he hears Hunk’s voice in the distance and he perks up, watching as his friends trot happily over to the van. They wave when they notice him and he waves back, hoping he doesn’t look too awkward. He doesn’t exactly deal with nerves very well. When they get to him, Pidge is clinging to Hunk’s arm, rambling about some concept they started in biology. Hunk looks mildly amused, and Lance can tell he’s only half listening. 

“Ready to smack some balls?” Pidge asks, letting go of Hunk. Lance rolls his eyes and pushes off of the side of the van, reaching down to grab his backpack. 

“You have a way of saying things,” Lance says, “and it’s worse cause we both know it’s intentional.” Pidge dismisses him and swings the door to the van open, tossing two of their three bags into the backseat. When they emerge again, closing the door, they’re grinning ear to ear. “What?” Lance says, squinting at them. 

“You’re nervous,” Pidge says. Their arms are crossed over their chest and they have that stupidly smug look on their face. But Lance knows they’re nervous too. He’s known Pidge long enough to know their body language. 

“So are you,” Lance says. He doesn’t bother denying it, it’s pretty obvious that he’s scared shitless. He’s done tryouts for soccer every year so far, and he was only nervous the first time. After that, he knew better than to be nervous. 

“Okay, I’m sick of you two, go,” Hunk says, “I’m sure Matt put in a good word for you. And Shiro loves you Pidge, you’re fine.” He pushes them towards the school, shushing them at every attempt of protest. They’re no match for his stupid brute strength, so they make the rest of the distance to the entrance of the building. Pidge kicks at his ankles as they go and he pushes her into the lockers. They have interesting ways of  getting rid of their nerves. 

–

If Lance thought he was nervous before, he was dead fucking wrong. Standing there now, looking at the crowd of student athletes, Lance feels so completely unprepared. He has the shoes and the kneepads. He has athletic clothing and a lot of energy. But these people look like they are familiar with the court. Like the net is part of their close family, not a distant cousin. Pidge is off somewhere talking with other students, and normally Lance would be doing the same, but he can’t stop looking at the way everyone holds themselves with confidence. 

“Hey, you doing okay there?” Shiro says, coming up behind Lance. He jumps slightly at the voice, turning to face Shiro with a slight flush on his cheeks. 

“Yeah- yep, I’m doing a-okay,” Lance says, cringing at himself. Shiro raises an eyebrow at him and puts a hand on his shoulder softly. Lance tries to relax his shoulder under the touch, but his nerves are running rampant. 

“Look, you have nothing to worry about, you’re going to do just fine,” Shiro says, “and hey, if it helps at all, long limbs are a great attribute in this sport.” Lance nods and looks just past Shiro to find Pidge. They don’t exactly have long limbs to support them. 

“What about Pidge, they are literally an elf,” Lance says, “do you think they’ll be good?” Shiro shrugs and drops the hand he has on Lance’s shoulder. 

“I have a feeling they’ll be just fine, now I gotta go get this stuff started,” Shiro says, “good luck!” He trots away, leaving Lance to join the rest of the team as he calls them into a line. There are probably three dozen students in total and Lance knows there are only twenty four spots on the team. Twelve or so people are going to walk out of this gym without a spot. He really, really hopes he’s not one of those people. He’s already mourning the loss of soccer, he can’t imagine not being able to do any sport at all. 

“Alright, thank you all for joining us today,” Shiro says, “I’m Takashi Shirogane and as most of you know, I’m the coach for the team. I’m happy to see so many new faces this year, we do have our graduates from last year to make up for.” He looks at everyone, letting the energy of the room come down slightly. “To start tryouts off, break into groups of four. I like to get you all loosened up to get rid of the nerves, so we’ll start with four on fours.” 

The room immediately fills with chatter as people break off into groups. Lance, of course, finds Pidge amidst the chaos and they wander around to look for two more people. Unfortunately, there seems to be an odd number and they’re stuck with just one other person. A skinny freshman who seems to be overly confident. Being the only team with three is not helping Lance’s confidence at all. They get put in the final spot and watch as the other teams go. “These people are pretty good, huh?” Pidge remarks. 

“No kidding, they actually seem to have patterns and shit,” Lance says, “are you sure we should be doing this?” Pidge shrugs, then lets out a soft whoop when someone does a particularly good save. 

“Look, this is our best option, you want to be an athlete, don’t you?” Pidge asks. Lance nods. He shouldn’t complain about getting the best of both worlds. He’s being given the opportunity to pursue both of his dreams, not many people get to do that. But when their turn comes up, he feels like he’s going to puke. The other team looks pretty damn intimidating and he’s worried Shiro is going to see just how unprepared he actually is. But just before they can start, the door to the gym bursts open and an actual angel walks in. Well, Lance is being dramatic, but he might as well be an angel. 

The guy is just about Lance’s height, but his shoulders are more built, his frame more filled. His hair is dark and long, just barely touching his shoulders, flowing in a way that’s just barely a mullet. His nose is sharp, his jaw chiseled. Everything about his face, down to the scar just below his eye is perfect. And speaking of eyes, Lance isn’t sure he’s ever seen something so beautiful before. This guy's eyes are such a deep, dark blue that they’re almost purple. They sparkle in the artificial light of the gym and Lance can already feel himself getting lost in them. Well hello knight in shining armour. 

“Good timing,” Shiro says, glaring at the new guy, “join this group, they’re short a player. And don’t be late… again. ” Lance can’t help but notice some sort of familiarity between them and it piques his curiosity. This guy must be good if that’s all Shiro has to say about him being late. Lance’s breath catches in his throat as the guy walks over to them and Pidge looks at him with a knowing smirk. Lance likes hot people, that’s definitely not a crime. They’re on the court when the guy joins them and the freshman is the first to pounce on him, asking him about his spikes. Is this guy notorious or something? 

“Go introduce yourself loverboy,” Pidge says, kicking his leg, “we start in like thirty seconds.” Lance scoffs at her, but the second the freshman starts to walk away, Lance is there, standing in front of the hottest guy he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

“Lance,” he says, extending a hand. He’s surprised he’s able to even move right now. This guy is even hotter up close. Lance might actually be drooling right now. The guy looks at him for a moment, seemingly studying his face. Lance feels small under his gaze, but he just keeps his hand out waiting. Before he can get a name and handshake in response, the whistle blows and everyone gets into position. 

“Take back left,” the guy mumbles, walking past Lance to take the front right corner. Looks like Lance is going to have to wait to charm the new guy after he wins a game of volleyball. Hopefully. He really doesn’t want to embarrass himself right now. He settles in his spot and watches as the other prepares to serve. He’s passed some stuff around with Pidge to practice, but he hasn’t actually played a game since they did in the summer. His heart seems to stop for a second as the ball is hit towards their side and he feels himself lock in. 

The game goes surprisingly smoothly. Neither team gets too ahead of the other, and Lance only misses a couple hits because he’s distracted by the hot guy with the mullet. He’s actually really starting to have fun, and he might actually start getting good at this whole thing. And Pidge. Holy shit, Pidge is amazing. They literally do not let the ball touch the ground. It’s like they’re a fucking wizard or something. The other team ends up winning by two points, but Lance can’t really be upset, they all played really well. And he hates to play the blame game, but that freshman may have cost them a decent amount of points. 

After the game, Pidge immediately runs up to Lance and jumps on his back excitedly. “Did you see that? We’re actually good at this shit.” Lance laughs and knocks his head against theirs. He feels like they have a really good chance of making the team. And so does the hot guy. He was really good. Like… good enough that Lance might have dreams about him. 

“I didn’t know you had such good reflexes,” Lance teases. Pidge just smacks the side of his head and slides off of his back. The freshman and the hot guy are off to the side and the hot guy looks unbearably annoyed. Lance wonders how often he has people come up to him. He’s definitely the best player in the room. 

“Go save your boyfriend,” Pidge says, rolling their eyes, “I need to talk to Shiro anyways. Matt needs birthday gift ideas.” Lance smiles and waves her off, too preoccupied with the hot guy to bite back at their comment. Everyone knows Lance is a flirt, it’s not the first time Pidge has caught on to his target just as quick as he did. So Lance walks over to the guy holding himself with confidence. Flirting with girls is easy for him, he doesn’t have to fake confidence, but guys… yeah the confidence is a facade. When the freshman sees him approaching, he nods and walks away, giving Lance the perfect opportunity to turn up his charming smile. 

“Where’d you learn to hit like that?” Lance asks, sliding in front of the guy. He looks Lance up and down and it makes heat tingle at Lance’s skin. When their eyes meet again, he crosses his arms and leans his weight into his right hip. 

“Learned from the best,” he says, “I’m assuming you’re new to the sport?” Lance can’t decide if he should be offended or not. Is he really that bad? He felt like he was supporting the team pretty damn well. He can count the mistakes he made on one hand. And sure, he didn’t do anything crazy or special, but he was still sturdy and helpful. He scoffs and mirrors the crossed arms. 

“What gives you that impression?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge. The guy’s lips twitch ever so slightly, like he’s trying to hide a smile. It would have been endearing if Lance wasn’t in a competitive mindset. 

“You’re not bad, don’t get me wrong, you’re just very… rigid,” he says, “like you’re not entirely letting your instincts take over. I’m only saying this because I want my team to be good this year.” Lance can’t help but grin. This nonchalant guy actually cares. 

“So you think I’m gonna make the team?” Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows. The guy sighs and drops his arms, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Are you always this annoying?” he asks. His tone is neutral and Lance can’t figure out if it’s an insult or some weird attempt at flirting. For the sake of his hopeless romantic heart, he’s going to call it flirting. 

“I never got your name,” Lance says, “I feel like it’s only fair I get my future teammates name.” The guy shakes his head and turns to walk away from Lance, towards where Shiro and Pidge are standing. He looks over his shoulder and smirks at Lance and god if that isn’t one of the hottest things Lance has ever seen. 

“You’ll get my name if  you make the team,” he says, “good luck, Lance.” And with that, he’s gone, joining in on whatever conversation Shiro and Pidge are having. Lance isn’t sure exactly what to do with himself. That was totally flirting, right? He knows he can be a bit delusional at times but this doesn’t feel like he’s crazy. Instead of going over there to join the conversation, he goes to his bag and takes some much needed gulps of water and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He really hopes he makes the team. It had nothing to do with a particular mullet. Nothing at all. 

–

“Alright, I know everyone is tired, but I’ve discussed it with our captain and we have the list for our new team,” Shiro says, “I want to thank everyone for coming today, and just know, if you didn’t make it this year, there’s always next year. To the seniors that didn’t make it, the soccer team is looking for more players. Why not try something new!” That gets him a few sad chuckles and Lance looks at the people who already know they’re not going to make it. He just hopes he’s one of the seniors that do make it. He’s going to feel real fucking lost if he doesn’t. 

He looks to Pidge and feels some relief to see them looking just as nervous as him. Shiro starts to read the list of names, and each new one has Lance on edge. The more names he says, the lower Lance’s chances are of being on the team. Although he does feel a particularly large wave of pride when Pidge’s name is called. And as much as Pidge tries to hide it, Lance can tell how excited they are. Lance has been keeping count of the names and there are only four spots left. His body doesn’t seem to know what to do. He wants to jump out of his skin and run around the room screaming, but he keeps himself still, only swaying on his feet slightly. 

“And the final four on the team are Chase Harrington, Ryan Brown, Lance McClain and Keith Kogane.” Lance can’t help but jump slightly when his name is called and he does his best to hold back his excited squeal. He grabs Pidge’s shoulders and shakes them, probably squeezing a bit too hard. But he’s too excited to care. He doesn’t even bother looking at whoever else made it, he just shakes Pidge until they swat his hand away. He’s lost in his own world until he hears someone clear their throat next to him. Specifically a very hot someone. 

“You made the team,” he says plainly. Lance swallows the excitement down and tries to appear as calm as possible. 

“I did,” Lance says, “does that mean I get to know your name now? I mean, I guess I technically know it already, cause Shiro probably said it, cause there’s no way I made the team and you didn’t. Besides, I could probably figure it out-” 

“Are you done?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Lance clears his throat and nods, trying to ignore the flush he can feel on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Way to go Lance! Just go ahead and embarrass yourself in front of your very hot teammate! Sounds like a great idea. But then there’s a hand in front of him, calloused and pale and waiting. “Keith Kogane, welcome to the team.” Lance recognizes the name, feels like he’s heard Keith somewhere before, but he’s too preoccupied to think about that right now. He gladly takes Keith’s hand and shakes it firmly. 

Their hands fit together surprisingly well, but Lance takes note that his fingers are just slightly longer and thinner. Keith’s skin is also quite rough, but not in a way that turns Lance away. His hand is tingling as he pulls it away. Thank you Matt for suggesting volleyball. If Lance gets to play anywhere near this guy, he counts that as a win. “Nice to finally meet you.” Lance replies. Keith nods and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he walks off. Lance only gets to watch him for a couple seconds before Pidge is smacking his arm. “What?” He hisses. 

“You finally got his name?” Pidge teases. Lance pushes them away and rolls his eyes. He needs new friends. 

“Shut up,” Lance grumbles, “let’s go get some celebratory burgers.” It’s only when they’re halfway to the burger joint when Lance remembers where he heard the name Keith. His academic rival who graduated last year. It’s an unfortunate coincidence, but Lance can live with it. It’s two separate Keith’s. It’s downright impossible for Keith to be that smart, that athletic and that hot. He’ll keep his Keith’s separate, please and thank you. He’s got two potential babes already and it’s only the first day of senior year. Maybe things won’t be too bad without soccer.

Chapter Text

When Lance walks into art class, his spot next to Nyma is open and waiting. He grins to himself. Two weeks into class and she seems to be wrapped around his finger. Or he’s wrapped around hers. He’s not entirely sure. He sits down with his best smile and looks at the sketchbook in front of Nyma. “That’s a beautiful flower,” Lance says, looking directly at the tiger Nyma is drawing. She laughs and rolls her eyes. 

“You’re a comedian,” she says, “do you like it though? I’ve been working on feline anatomy for the past couple weeks now.” The tiger is genuinely impressive and it’s people like her in this class that make him feel so incapable. 

“It’s pretty damn impressive,” Lance says, “I have a feeling I might have the worst grade in this class. Remind me again why I’m here?” Nyma closes her sketchbook and pushes it away from herself and leans towards Lance. She bats her eyes and it makes Lance’s heart flutter. 

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you’re here. And I’m sure your artwork will be just fine,” Nyma says, “afterall, the best art comes from the heart, filled with passion. The skill in the stroke comes from within.” Lance tilts his head and smiles at Nyma softly. 

“That was poetic,” Lance says, “I gotta learn a thing or two about being artistic.” Allura soon takes their attention and a lesson on colour theory begins. Lance knew colour theory was a thing. He knew orange and blue are complementary, that purple is a secondary colour. But apparently, there’s a whole lot more to it than that. He has to get Nyma to explain things to him more than once, but he can’t complain. It gets her to lean over his shoulder and guide his hands. 

“Hey, so uh- my friend’s throwing a party in a couple weeks, I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one?” Nyma asks. She seems nervous and Lance finds it endearing. He’s happy to be the reason for her nerves. 

“How could I say no to that?” Lance says, “here, give me your number, I’ll pick you up.” She smiles and puts her number in. When Lance walks out of class, he’s flushed and hyper with excitement. 

–

“Alright, we’re going to do some drills before we do some practice games,” Shiro says, “find a partner and a ball for each of you. I’ll demonstrate the exercise with…” he looks around, trying to find one of the seniors to pick on, “Jack. He’s an expert with this one.” Based on the groan he gets in response, Lance can only assume Jack is very much not an expert. They show the exercise, which is a combination of spiking and digging. Considering Lance is eager to spike, he’s looking forward to it. 

He looks around the gym to find Pidge, but they’re already partnered up with one of the freshmen. He sighs and continues to look for a partner, gasping in shock when his eyes land on Keith. Standing no more than six inches in front of him. “Geez dude, you’re a creep.” Lance says, squeezing his shirt where his heart is. Keith sighs and pushes Lance’s hand away. 

“Wanna run the drill with me?” Keith asks. Lance smirks and crosses his arms, leaning back on his heels. Keith Kogane wants to be his partner. Keith asked him. This is a day for the history books, “get that smug look off your face.” But there is no bite to Keith’s words. Lance smiles and gladly accepts his offer. They find themselves close to the far corner of the room, each holding a ball. 

“So, you wanna spike first?” Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Keith huffs and bounces the ball a couple times, getting used to how it feels. 

“Are you sure your twig arms can handle that?” Keith teases, “digging isn’t exactly your forte. Your arms might snap off.” Keith has that stupidly cocky (and stupidly hot) smile on his face and it makes Lance’s skin buzz. He tries not to let his mind wander. 

“Oh, you are on, mullet. Show me what you got!” Lance exclaims. And Keith just does that. He tosses the ball up, and it’s almost like time stops for a moment when Lance realizes he made a mistake. He watches as Keith’s hand makes contact with the ball. His heart races as it speeds towards him and… hits him directly in the chest. The wind knocks out of him and wheezes, stumbling back a couple steps, ultimately tripping on his own foot. 

He groans as he hits the ground, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Keith is a very experienced player, Lance is just a guy who’s athletic enough to get away with any sport. He has a lot to learn. He drops his head and catches his breath, ignoring the slight ache where the ball made contact. When he looks up, Keith is standing over him, extending a hand. “You alright there?” Keith asks. Lance sighs and takes his hand reluctantly, letting Keith help him stand. 

“Whatever, I was just- that was a warmup,” Lance mumbles, “hit me again.” Keith raises a skeptical eyebrow and Lance sighs. He really needs to think about his words around Keith. 

“Again? Didn’t know you were into that,” Keith says playfully. 

“Fuck you, just spike the damn ball, I’m ready this time,” Lance says. He is most definitely not ready that time, or the eight times after that. He gets battered with each hit, but he keeps going, and Keith never holds back. It’s refreshing. He doesn’t want anyone holding back. He wants to get better. Even when he’s the one spiking, Keith doesn’t hold back, shit talking each and every one of his hits. It’s exhilarating. 

The practice games after that go well, and Lance can literally feel improvement on his digs. That short thirty minutes with Keith gave him the slightest improvement. He’s proud. And Keith is only hotter and hotter with every passing moment. Seriously, the guy looks insanely good when he spikes a ball. And even better when he blocks a hit. Lance is beyond grateful they got put on separate teams for the practice games. Gives him  more time to watch. In the least creepy way possible. 

His team ends up right in the middle, but he’s honestly really proud of how he plays. He’s improving a lot faster than he thought he would. And Pidge seems to be the same. He thinks they have a pretty good chance of making it to the first string by the first tournament. Lance watches as everyone starts to file out of the gym, wiping the sweat from his brow. He’s on cleanup duty today with a couple other people. “Here.” Lance looks up to see Keith holding out a bottle of water to him. 

Lance smiles and takes it, pressing the cool object to his cheeks. It’s weird not having the wind outside to keep him cool. “I didn’t see you on clean up duty,” Lance says. Keith nods and sits down next to Lance, pulling his knee pads off. Lance watches him curiously, taking generous sips of his water. 

“No I uh- well I was wondering if you wanted to stay a bit to practice,” Keith says. Lance looks at him and tilts his head. He thought his heart was racing when Nyma asked him to be her plus one, but that was nothing compared to his heart right now. It feels like his heart is in his throat. He swallows and nods, putting the bottle of water aside. 

“Are we allowed to do that? I thought Shiro said we had to be out of here?” Lance says. Keith’s face drops slightly at that and it makes Lance panic. Did he say something wrong? “Not that I don’t want to. I do… I just don’t want to get in trouble.” Keith’s small smile comes back and he leans against the wall behind them. There’s something smug on his face. 

“Shiro! Can Lance and I stay a bit to practice?” Keith yells across the gym. Shiro looks up from the net he’s packing up and seems to ponder for a moment before he shrugs. Lance needs to figure out how long Keith has been on the team for him to be so comfortable with Shiro. 

“Sure, just make sure to pack up and be out of here before dark,” Shiro says, “and Keith, don’t get Lance into trouble, please.” Lance looks between them and something unreadable seems to be passing between their gazes. Weird. But then Keith is looking at him and Lance’s entire body tingles. He’s not sure how it’s legal for Keith to be so hot. 

“Well damn, looks like I’m getting smacked around for a bit longer,” Lance says. Keith just waves him off, standing up. 

“Nah, I’ll actually teach some useful stuff,” Keith says, “I can tell you want to spike. I can help.” Lance smiles up at him and he’s sure his grin is stupidly wide. But like… this is literally one of his fantasies. His hot ass teammate offering him private lessons? Yeah… a dream. 

“Really? You think I can learn?” Lance asks. Keith nods and extends a hand. Lance takes it, his entire body igniting when their skin makes contact. He doesn’t even care if Keith spends the next two hours yelling at him, he’s just happy to spend time with him one on one. 

–

“Lance! When I said left, I meant it!” Keith exclaims. He’s bent over laughing, clutching at his stomach as it seems to bubble out of him. Lance can’t even be mad from where he is on the floor. Keith’s laugh is one of the most beautiful things Lance has ever heard and he’s the one who made Keith laugh this time. 

“What if you meant your left?” Lance says defensively, flopping to lay on his back. He can still hear Keith’s laughter and it seems to be getting closer to him. They’ve been here for an hour and Keith has been relentless. It’s amazing. Lance genuinely feels like he’s learning so much in such a short time. Keith is a good teacher when he strips back his whole bad-boy thing. Keith lays down next to him and they both look at the ceiling. 

Their shoulders are only a couple inches apart and Lance can feel the heat radiating off of Keith. They’re both drenched in sweat, but Lance doesn't care. He hasn’t been this carelessly happy in a while. “So, you’re new to the team. I never got to ask why you waited until senior year.” Lance sighs. Does he want to reveal that he’s a nerd already? Is there a point in hiding it? 

“I was on the soccer team up until this year. I uh- I wanted to be the best striker in the region,” Lance says, clearing his throat, “and I got close but then… well, I don’t know if you know about the high science program.” But Keith hums in acknowledgement, so Lance keeps going, “well, I decided to do it and it just didn’t work with soccer and I didn’t want to stop doing sports.” 

“So you decided on volleyball? Any particular reason?” Keith asks. Lance isn’t sure he wants to reveal his connection to Shiro just yet. He doesn’t want Keith to think there’s favouritism. He doesn’t want Keith to say Shiro’s the only reason Lance made it. 

“The schedule worked and I had fun playing beach volleyball in the summer. It made sense,” Lance says, “plus, Pidge’s brother convinced them to join the team.” Keith takes a deep breath and sits up. 

“You and Pidge are close?” he asks. Lance sits up next to him and nods. 

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for years now,” Lance says, “I’m glad to have them on the team with me. And I’m glad their brother convinced us to join.” Keith clears his throat and pulls at the double knotted laces on his shoes. 

“So, what science has your eye? The high science program is hard to get into,” Keith says. Lance looks at the net in front of them, counting the squares. 

“Astrophysics. I did pretty well on a paper last year. I guess it was enough,” Lance says with a casual shrug. He doesn’t want to come off arrogant, no matter how proud he is of the accomplishment. 

“Really? I got my best grade in astrophysics,” Keith says, “Mr. Coran seemed quite pleased.” Lance smiles, but he can’t help the tight feeling in his chest. What if the two Keith’s are actually the same person? His rival and the hot guy can’t be the same. The universe isn’t that powerful… or is it? 

“Are you a senior? I haven’t seen you in any of my classes,” Lance says. He’s pretty sure he would have noticed Keith before. He’s like, probably the most beautiful, majestic person he’s ever laid eyes on. Even if he saw him in passing, Lance would have recognized him. But he has no recollection of ever seeing him. 

“Technically, yeah, but I was supposed to graduate last year. Guess that makes me a… oh god, am I a super senior? I hate that,” Keith says. Lance chuckles, tucking his face into his knees to hide his amusement. He can hear Keith laughing softly next to him and it warms his heart. 

“So what? You cheated on an exam? Vandalized the building? Hooked up with a teacher? Why are you still here?” Lance asks. Part of him wants an extravagant story. Something that really highlights the bad boy energy Keith seems to have. And it’s definitely not cause he finds the idea of Keith spray painting the school kind of hot. 

“Nothing that exciting unfortunately,” Keith says, laughing under his breath, “just had some pretty shitty attendance. As in I missed more than half the days of the school year.” Lance just turns to look at him. He’s sure his jaw is agape, but he’s not sure he cares to fix that. Missing half the year is insane. He didn’t know that was even possible. 

“How did you even… did your parents not… wow,” Lance says. Keith just nods and goes back to playing with his shoelaces. 

“Yeah, it was sort of a tough year for me,” Keith says, “I’m just glad they’re letting me come back to patch things up.” Lance smiles at him softly even though Keith isn’t looking at him. 

“Me too… like- well I’m glad they let you stay” Lance says, clearing his throat. Since when was he so awkward? “You know… cause you’re helping me get better and everything.” Keith just smiles at him and it almost makes Lance squirm. 

“Right,” Keith says, “we should probably take the net down.” Lance nods and stands up, this time offering his hand to Keith. It’s worth it for the smile he gets in return as he helps him to his feet. Keith doesn’t let go of his hand right away and their faces are only a couple inches apart. Lance swallows the lump in his throat. He has to say something or he might die. 

“We should do this again,” Lance says softly. Keith finally lets go of his hand as he nods. He walks past Lance towards the net, and it takes Lance a couple seconds to do the same. He’s waiting not so patiently for Keith to say something. 

“Are you free after next practice?” Keith asks. Lance smiles to himself, feeling the flush creep up his neck. 

“Isn’t the gym booked for the basketball team after us?” Lance asks. It’s not that he doesn’t want to practice with Keith, he just doesn’t want their plans to fall through. He needs to make sure they have the gym. 

“Yeah, but I was thinking we could do some stuff outside, just to practice on softer ground,” Keith says, “you need a lot of help with your digs.” Lance scoffs and gathers the net as Keith puts the first pole away. 

“And you need help with your bluntness,” Lance huffs, throwing the net at Keith. He catches it easily, sending a sly, but shy smirk to Lance. 

“Guess we have a lot to learn from each other,” Keith says. 

“I guess we do,” Lance says softly. Keith waits with Lance until his mom comes to pick him up, waving him off with one hand stuffed in his pocket. Lance’s mom grills him on his new friend the entire drive home and he can’t help but smile. 

–

“No, but you’re not getting it, teleportation is so much better! I could go to Cuba for lunch if I wanted to,” Lance says. His voice is way too loud for a library but he doesn’t care. The school library hardly counts as one, mostly used as a place to hide on raining days or during a particularly boring class. The librarian doesn’t complain whatsoever about the noise. 

“Okay, but imagine how amazing it would feel to fly? The wind in your hair, birds around you, no traffic,” Hunk says. He blinks lazily, lost in his fantasy world where he can fly. Lance just rolls his eyes and kicks Hunk’s chair to knock him out of it. 

“There’s no traffic if you teleport,” Lance says. Hunk sighs and hunches forward to level his eyes with Lance, “and-” Lance says, cutting Hunk off before he can start, “the feeling of flying would get boring pretty easily.” Hunk smiles at him smugly and Lance tilts his head as he waits for the response. 

“Didn’t you say hitting a spike in volleyball is like flying?” Hunk asks. Lance shakes his head. He’s not going to let his own words be used against him like this. “And that you wish you could feel that all the time?” Lance kicks Hunk’s chair again and gets a small glare in return. 

“It’s not the same and you know it,” Lance says, crossing his arms. 

“Lance is right, it’s very different,” Pidge says, seemingly coming out of nowhere. They should all be in their last period for the day, but an extended bathroom break doesn’t cause any harm. Probably. Lance checks the time on his phone and sighs, standing up as Pidge sits down. “I support your argument and you decide to leave me?” Pidge asks. 

“I’ve been in the bathroom for almost half an hour,” Lance says, “I’d rather not have to tell my teacher I had uncontrollable diarrhea again.” He shivers at the memory. In tenth grade, he and a particularly hot girl spent almost the entire class ‘in the bathroom’ and when he came back to class, his muddled brain could only come up with diarrhea as an excuse. 

“Oh hey, before you run off, my parents are gone for the night, wanna come over for a movie after volleyball practice?” Pidge asks, looking between the two of them, “Matt and Shiro are gonna be there too. We were thinking a couple of horror movies.” They have that mischievous look in their eyes and it makes Lance squirm slightly. The last horror movie night they had ended in Lance accidentally giving Pidge a black eye cause of a jumpscare. It’s their fault for sitting next to him. 

“Absolutely, I haven’t seen your idiot of a brother in weeks,” Hunk says, “can I pick one of the movies? I heard about this one with a fake talk show and demons or something. It looks cool.” Lance watches the excited exchange and feels a pit form in his stomach. He promised Keith he would practice with him after volleyball. And he wants to spend that time with Keith. But he also wants to spend time with his friends. A movie night is a rare occurrence during the school year. 

“Lance? You down?” Pidge asks, looking at him expectantly. He clears his throat and looks at them before sighing in defeat. 

“I already have plans, sorry,” Lance says, “but it’s okay! Just tell me how the movies are, I’ll be there for the next movie night.” Pidge eyes him suspiciously and Hunk’s smile just drops ever so slightly. 

“May I ask who the plans are with?” Pidge asks. Lance shakes his head, but he’s glad to see Hunk’s smile light up again. 

“Oh! Did you finally ask that girl from your art class out?” Hunk asks. 

“Or is it your soulmate, Keith?” Pidge asks tauntingly. Lance just grumbles and waves them off. He really does need to get back to class. “Oh come on, tell us!” Pidge exclaims. Lance doesn’t answer, he just walks out of the library, leaving them to theorize about his plans. His teacher only looks at him with a slight glare when he shuffles back into the room. 

–

Volleyball practice is brutal, but Lance appreciates it. He likes coming out of practice, sweating and aching and wobbly on his feet. There’s something so satisfying about working himself to the bone. Knowing he pushed himself as hard as he could. Thankfully, he’s not on cleaning duty, so he packs his stuff up and waits for Keith to do the same. He feels creepy, but he can't help but stare at Keith from across the gym. The way the light bounces off of his cheeks, how his hair falls over his face when he pulls it out of the small ponytail it was in. 

“Ahem?” Lance looks up to find Shiro looking down at him with his hands on his hips. Lance feels small under his gaze, but he knows Shiro is a soft teddy bear on the inside. Even if he’s here to tell Lance he’s the worst player on the team, he’ll do it nicely, “Did you not hear me calling your name?” Shiro asks. Lance shakes his head. He must have really zoned out on Keith. 

“What’s up?” Lance asks. His heart is beating fast and he’s worried Shiro caught him ogling his teammate. He’s not sure if Shiro would care, but he doesn’t want to find out. 

“Are you going to Pidge’s place tonight? Matt’s been complaining that he doesn’t see you much.” Lance chuckles softly as relief washes over him. He sometimes forgets he’s sort of friends with Shiro. He’s not just his coach, he’s his friend's boyfriend.  

“No, I uh- Keith and I are going to run some digging drills outside,” Lance says. Shiro smiles. It’s fond in a way Lance wouldn’t expect, but he doesn’t dwell on it too much. He doesn’t know Shiro well enough to dissect his facial expressions quite yet. 

“Oh, that’s good. Keith needs to work on his teamwork anyway,” Shiro says, “you two have fun. But don’t get injured, you hear me?” Lance nods and gives Shiro a playful salute as he walks away. 

“Tell Matt I miss him too!” Lance says. Shiro nods and walks away, giving Lance a salute in return. When Lance brings his attention back to Keith, the latter is no longer at the other side of the gym, instead, he’s standing right in front of Lance. It’s enough to make him gasp in surprise. “Jesus Keith, I need to put a bell on you.” Keith laughs softly and grabs Lance’s bag for him. “Are you carrying my bag for me?” Lance coos. Keith rolls his eyes and Lance jumps up as Keith starts walking away. 

“Come on, we wanna get as much daylight as we can,” Keith says. Lance catches up to him and matches his stride. Keith is leading them to the back doors of the school, which lead out to the large, but mostly unused field behind the school. Since they have a field dedicated to soccer, football and rugby, this second field doesn’t get used too much. It’s mostly a place for people to eat during lunch break. 

“You were doing something different today,” Lance says, “your movements were… weird during the drills.” Lance is mostly poking fun, Keith was just as good as always, but his movements were a bit different. Not that he spends enough time staring at Keith to notice. He totally doesn’t do that. 

“Watching me instead of doing drills, blue?” Keith says. Lance sighs at the nickname, despite the fact that he quite likes it. It’s origin is stupid really. He and Pidge used colours to call things out in soccer so the other team didn’t know what they had planned. Turns out some habits die hard and he had yelled blue very loudly in Keith’s face. It’s become a nickname as a rebuttal to mullet. 

“Never, distraction is a curse,” Lance says, “that’s what Shiro says and dammit I believe him.” He puts his hands on his hips and huffs, earning a small laugh from Keith. It’s embarrassing that he still feels pride every time he makes Keith laugh, even after knowing each other for almost a month. 

“You and Shiro get along pretty well,” Keith says absently as he pushes the door open and the cool air from outside rushes at them, “do you know him outside of volleyball? Did he come to soccer practices or something?” The sudden interest in Shiro’s relationship to him reminds Lance about his earlier concerns. How does Keith know Shiro? Is he… jealous? Should Lance be jealous? Did something happen between them before Matt came around? 

It’s illegal for coaches to hook up with students. Surely that’s not what happened, but what if it is. What if they have some complicated history? “Oh, yeah, he’s dating my friend's brother,” Lance says, “Pidge, the little demonic friend of mine,” Lance clarifies, “So I hangout with Shiro outside of school, I guess.” He shrugs. The answer seems satisfactory enough for Keith. 

“You close with Pidge’s brother?” Keith asks. Lance nods. He and Matt have really gotten closer over the past couple years. He’s glad Pidge introduced them. 

“So, do you know Shiro outside of school or is it… volleyball team history?” Lance asks. Keith doesn’t answer immediately, using the thumps of him dropping their bags to fill the silence. Lance waits patiently, trying to read Keith’s movements. Something seems… off. 

“Just volleyball,” Keith says, clearing his throat, “now, let’s get you whipped into shape, yeah?” Lance grins. He can’t possibly say no to that. If he’s going to be the best, he can’t turn down a single opportunity to improve. Even if he can safely guess that the next couple hours are going to be torturous. Keith is intense. Playful and fun, but intense. Lance is looking forward to it. 

–

Unfortunately, Mr. Coran isn’t teaching any of the senior classes this year, which means Lance doesn’t really get to see him. But Lance is really liking the high science program and he needs to tell him. He wants Mr. Coran to be proud of him. He wants him to know that it wasn’t a waste to get Lance in the program. So he makes his way to Mr. Coran’s room and knocks lightly before walking in. He knows he’s always here for his lunch. 

When he walks in, he finds Mr. Coran and Allura sitting at his desk, laughing and talking easily. It must be nice to work with some family. As a family guy himself, Lance hopes he’s always close with his family. “Sorry to bother you guys on your lunch,” Lance says, walking into the room. They both look up and the friendly smiles remain on their faces. 

“It’s all good my boy, what's going on?” Mr. Coran asks. Lance walks up to the desk and smiles at Allura. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m really enjoying the high science program. Thank you for telling me about it. And recommending me.” Lance says. Mr. Coran smiles at him brightly and Lance isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but he looks proud. 

“And I’m happy you decided to do it, I knew it would be a perfect fit for you,” Mr. Coran says, “and I presume you were able to find a balance with your sports?” Lance nods. Thank goodness for Matt and his brilliant ideas. 

“I’m on the volleyball team now,” Lance says, “I’ve got things figured out pretty well this year.” And he means it. Everything is sliding into place quite nicely and he has nothing to complain about. Maybe senior year will be his year afterall. 

“And he’s doing quite well in my class,” Allura says, “a new artist is my favourite to teach.” Lance smiles at her, unable to hide the pride that makes him feel. Even if she is just lying to make him feel better, he doesn’t care. They spend the next ten minutes or so talking about Lance’s classes and Mr. Coran and Allura’s new students for the semester. Having teachers like them really makes a huge difference. Lance isn’t sure he’d be doing so well if Mr. Coran wasn’t there to push him. 

“Before I go, I just have a small question,” Lance says. Not that it matters, not that it makes any difference if these two Keith’s are the same, but he needs to know. He needs to find out to tame his own curiosity. He already knows the answer, but he needs to hear it. “You know the guy you mentioned who got 100%? You said his name was Keith, right?” Mr. Coran nods, raising a curious eyebrow. 

Lance clears his throat and stuffs his hands into his pockets. Now or never. His new friend might become his new rival. “Did his last name happen to be Kogane?” Mr. Coran just smiles and nods. Lance swears he sees Allura smirk when Lance sighs. Keith Kogane really is the perfect human, he can’t deny it anymore.

Chapter Text

“What’s up with him?” Hunk asks as he sits at their table. He sets his tray down and nods towards Lance with a playful look on his face. Lance has his forehead on the table, making dramatic whines and groans every now and then. It’s nothing too out of the ordinary for Lance. 

“He’s dying because of his new boyfriend,” Pidge says, waving their hand dismissively, clearly done with Lance’s bullshit. This only makes him groan louder. Unfortunately, Keith is not his boyfriend. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lance mumbles. He hears both Hunk and Pidge laugh and looks up with the most dramatic look of betrayal he can possibly muster. Hunk rolls his eyes as he starts digging into his food. 

“Exactly, that’s the issue,” Pidge says, “he’s been complaining about how hot Keith is for like half an hour. It’s exhausting.” Lance pouts and Pidge just pinches his ear in response, making release an embarrassing squeal. 

“Sounds like Lance,” Hunk says almost fondly, “you should invite to come eat lunch with us sometime, I want to meet him.” Lance shakes his head and picks around at his food for a couple seconds. He does have a habit of flirting. He should expect his friends to make fun of him. 

“Well, now that you guys are here, I actually have a development in the Keith situation,” Lance says, trying his best to build up suspense. They both lean in and he smiles. He knows they’re both going to be pissed at how boring his news is. It’s fun for him, and future complaining sessions for them. “Keith is my rival from astrophysics.” Pidge groans and leans back in their chair. 

“I hate you,” they mumble, “how did you not make that connection?” 

“Yeah, I literally had that one figured out, buddy,” Hunk says, “and I’ve never met the guy.” Lance groans and slumps in his chair.

“Must you guys take away all my fun? I have a rival! That’s like… it’s cool,” Lance says, crossing his arms, “no one understands me.” 

“Is it normal to be in love with your rival?” Pidge asks. Lance throws a fry at them that they easily dodge. Hunk just watches with mild amusement as they throw food at each other for a couple seconds, before Pidge ultimately gives up. Lance is a good shot after all. 

“Anyways, you guys need a ride to the out of home game?” Hunk asks, trying to be inconspicuous as possible. Lance and Pidge share a knowing glance and bring their attention back to Hunk. Subtlety is not his strong suit. He gives in quickly, “yes, I want an excuse to see Shay. Happy?” 

“Ecstatic,” Pidge says, “now you just need to make it official. We’re too old to have talking stages.” 

“It’s not a talking stage,” Hunk says defensively, “I just want it to be special when I ask her out officially, is that a crime?” Lance starts to tune their argument when his attention is caught by Keith walking into the cafeteria. He’s never seen Keith here before. It’s weird. What really gets his attention, though, is that Keith is walking next to Shiro. He knew they had history cause of the team, but they seem closer than that. 

He watches as Keith talks about something animatedly, way more expressive than Lance has seen him with most people. Not that he’s a Keith expert by any means. It’s just… not normal for someone to be so close to their coach. Lance knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. Seeing Keith in his natural element like this is almost hypnotizing. It’s only when Keith turns to meet his eyes for a moment that he snaps out of it. 

Shiro waves at him kindly and Lance waves back, hardly sparing him a glance before he’s looking at Keith again. Keith was relaxed a moment ago, but now there’s something about him that seems reserved. It makes Lance’s chest squeeze ever so slightly. Did Lance make him tense up like that? But then Keith nods at him, smiling in the handsome way he always does and it makes butterflies fill his stomach. 

He nods back, and then just like that, Shiro and Keith walk past them, heading in the direction of the other exit. Lance seems to compose himself when he hears soft laughter from behind him. He snaps to face his friends with a glare that could kill. “What?” he says. But they just laugh harder. Hard enough that Pidge has tears in their eyes and Hunk is gasping for air. “Whatever.” Lance mumbles, looking down as he waits not so patiently for the blush on his face to disappear. 

He’s never going to live this down. 

–

“You need a partner?” Keith asks. Lance jumps at his voice, turning to glare at him playfully. Keith has a habit of scaring Lance. He hates it. He hates that it makes his heart flutter. 

“Are you sure you want me as a partner? Last time we were together I nearly broke your nose,” Lance says. But he doesn’t sound apologetic at all. He actually sounds quite the opposite, like he’d consider doing it again. 

“Maybe I’ll break your nose this time,” Keith says, “come on, Shiro’s gonna get mad if we don’t start soon.” Keith grabs Lance’s wrist and drags him to an empty area of the gym. Lance’s skin tingles at the contact and he smiles softly. He and Keith have become somewhat of a unit in the game. Since Lance is a great setter and blocker and Keith can spike like nobody's business, they work really well together. 

“Do you think Shiro will let me start for the game on Friday?” Lance asks as they start the drill. Keith hates when Lance talks during their drills, but he can’t help it. And for some reason, Keith keeps putting up with it. The thought makes Lance’s chest squeeze pleasantly. Keith doesn’t answer right away, and Lance thinks he might not at all, but then he catches the ball and looks directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he says simply, starting up the drill again. The bluntness isn’t what shocks Lance enough to miss the pass, it’s the lack of insult mixed in with it. Sure, Keith tells Lance when he does something well, but he always has something to balance it out. He’s not nice to Lance for no reason. But Keith doesn’t say anything else, he just chuckles when Lance misses the pass and gets back into a ready position. 

“You really think so?” Lance can’t help but ask. Keith sighs, but it’s more playful than anything, and keeps the ball moving. 

“Yes, Lance. You’re getting better really damn fast. It’s not often I’m impressed,” Keith says, “now stop talking and do the drill or I’m taking that back.” Lance smiles smugly and hits the ball over the net with as much accuracy as he can. 

“Are you saying I could be the better spiker one day?” Lance asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Keith sighs in defeat and hits the ball to Lance particularly hard. Thankfully, Lance expected it and is able to receive it easily. 

“Stop talking,” Keith huffs. Lance rolls his eyes, but he ultimately listens, keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the drill. Once the drill is done, Shiro makes them run some laps of the field and do general strength training. It’s Lance’s least favourite part of training, but if it makes him better, he can’t complain. He’s just happy soccer made his cardio so much better. 

“So… is Matt coming to the game on Friday?” Lance asks. Shiro smiles and pushes the cart full of volleyballs to the side. Pidge is stuck on cleaning duty, so Lance is staying with Shiro in the meantime since Pidge’s mom is his ride home. 

“Yeah, he wants to see how my coaching has worked for you two,” Shiro says, “apparently Pidge won’t shut up about volleyball. It’s sweet.” Lance looks out at them, smiling softly. He’s really glad that Pidge is so happy in the sport. It was hard for them to leave soccer so abruptly, but Pidge seems to be handling it really well. Lance might go as far as to say they’re actually better at volleyball than they were at soccer. 

“You’re pretty damn good at what you do,” Lance says, “thanks for giving Pidge and I this opportunity. I feel I haven’t really thanked you yet.” 

“No need to thank me, you two made it on this team with skill. And that demon is one of the best libero’s our school has seen,” Shiro says, “Matt was right about them. If they like something enough, they’ll find a way to excel at it.” 

“And what about me, huh? I didn’t hear any kind words about me,” Lance says. Shiro chuckles in that exasperated way people seem to do around Lance. 

“You’re not half bad. I think your main skill is working with Keith,” Shiro says, “I haven’t seen him work so well with someone in years. It’s really nice to see.” Lance can’t help but flush slightly. Is what he has with Keith… special. He hopes it is. He’s never met someone quite like Keith before. He’s not sure how people aren’t immediately obsessed with him. Maybe he’s just projecting. “Speaking of,” Shiro says, nodding just past Lance’s shoulder. 

Lance looks over and smiles when he sees Keith walking over to him. He would have thought that Keith went home by now, but he has no complaints about his presence. When he looks back over his shoulder, Shiro is gone, helping Pidge get everything put away. “Staying late for extra credit?” Lance asks. Keith laughs softly and stops in front of Lance. 

“No, I was actually looking for you,” Keith says. He sounds almost shy and it makes Lance’s heart stutter. It should be illegal how Keith can be both adorable and hot at the same time. 

“I was just chatting with your buddy Shiro,” Lance says, “he said I’m the best player on the team.” Keith’s face seems to tense for a second before he rolls his eyes. 

“I’m sure he did,” Keith says. A silence falls over them, but it’s not awkward. They sort of just look at each other, seeming to wait for each other to say something. Eventually, the silence gets to Lance, the purple eyes gazing at him making him squirm. 

“So…” Lance trails. Keith seems to snap back to reality. He dips his head slightly, seemingly embarrassed. 

“Uh right, sorry,” Keith says, scratching the back of his neck, “I was wondering if you wanted to come to this movie with me tonight? My uh- my friend cancelled on me but we can’t refund the ticket.” Lance has never seen him this nervous before and it’s making his heart do flips. A movie? Alone? With Keith? There’s not a world where he could say no. 

“Sure, yeah, I think I can make time for that,” Lance says, grinning. Keith sighs, but there’s a small smile on his face. “What movie?” Lance can’t decide if he wants it to be something scary or not. He hates horror movies, but they give him an excuse to be close to Keith. 

“You’ll see when we get there,” Keith says, “I can drive us there.” 

“You have a car?” Lance asks. He’s been jealous of Hunk’s van since the day he got it. He wants nothing more than to have his own car, but it’s not exactly an easy thing to purchase. Just another way Keith is cooler than him, though he would never admit that outloud. 

“Something like that,” Keith says, “it starts in an hour if you want to get food or something before.” Lance doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but this seems a whole lot like a date. It’s not officially a date, but his fantasy is unfolding in front of him. 

“Sure, I just gotta tell Pidge I don’t need a ride home anymore, I’ll be right back,” Lance says. He jogs over to where Pidge and Shiro are locking things up and waits for a couple seconds as they finish up their conversation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Pidge asks. 

“I don’t need a ride home anymore,” Lance says, “just thought I should, ya know, let you know.” Pidge nods, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. Lance smiles reassuringly. 

“Did you magically get a car or something?” Pidge asks. 

“Oh uh- no, Keith and I are… we’re hanging out,” Lance says. Pidge grins and it makes him sigh. They know him too well, and Shiro is here to see all of it. It’s a bit embarrassing. 

“Well, aren’t you lucky. I’ll tell my mom you say hi,” Pidge says, “enjoy your date.” Lance gasps and glares at them, crossing his arms to try and look intimidating. He knows it doesn’t work. 

“It’s not a date!” he says, making sure Shiro hears him. Shiro doesn’t say anything, but he seems quite amused by the whole situation. Which only seems to fluster Lance more. Pidge really is a demon. 

“Right, whatever, go enjoy your night, Shiro and I are done cleaning up anyway,” Pidge says, waving him off. He smiles at her and gives a quick thumbs up as he makes his way back over to Keith. 

“All good?” Keith asks. 

“All good,” Lance repeats, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. 

–

Now, the more Lance learns about Keith, the hotter he gets. That’s nothing new. But this… well this is a whole new level. Lance is pathetic. He’s weak at the knees because Keith fucking Kogane drives a motorcycle. A motorcycle. The hotness scale is well past a healthy level. Lance isn’t sure how much more his heart can actually handle. Keith hands him the extra helmet and all Lance can do is stand there and gape. Is he dreaming right now? “Have you been on a motorcycle before?” Keith asks. 

Lance clears his throat and shakes his head. Only in his dreams. His throat feels dry and his legs weak. He walks closer to the bike, where Keith is straddling it comfortably. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes the hand Keith extends to him. Lance lets Keith help him onto the bike and tries to keep somewhat of a distance between them. “Scoot closer to me, unless you want to fly off the bike.” 

Lance laughs nervously and slides forward until his chest is pressed against Keith’s back. His entire body ignites in tingles at the contact. He tries his hardest not to think about the way they’re pressed so firmly together, or how firm Keith is against his chest. Or how he feels it through his entire body when Keith laughs. “You gotta hold on, here” He reaches back and grabs Lance’s arms. 

Lance lets him move his arms around his waist, his breathing stuttering the entire time. He wraps his arms around Keith’s stomach, shivering at the feeling of firm muscle under his shirt. He knew Keith was strong, but feeling his muscles like this, the way they flex when he adjusts to start the bike… it’s something else entirely. Lance is going to dream about this for days. “Hold on tight, okay?” 

Lance nods against his back, their helmets making a soft click when they hit each other. He doesn’t have time to cringe though, because next thing he knows, the bike is moving and the wind is pushing against him. He immediately squeezes his arms tighter, nerves and adrenaline spiking. He’s never felt something quite like it before and it’s exhilarating. Not to mention the way the wind pushes Keith’s smell into his senses. When Keith takes a particularly sharp turn, Lance screeches, but it just turns into laughter instead of embarrassment. 

It doesn’t take them much longer to get there, but Lance is certain he’s never had this much fun in his life. He’s literally living his dream. When they stop, his heart is racing, his mind is buzzing and his legs feel wobbly. “Need a second?” Keith asks when he cuts the engine. He still has his helmet on, thankfully, so Lance can breathe for a second. But then he pulls it off and Lance forgets how to function. 

Keith’s hair swoops out of the helmet. His face is flushed from the wind, hair messy and eyes wide with adrenaline. It’s extremely hot. Lance burns it into his memory. Lance just stands there, shaky knees hardly holding him up. He’s so fucked. Eventually, he’s able to gather his bearings enough for them to get inside and buy some snacks. His heart finally calms down once they’re sitting down. 

Until Keith lifts the armrest between them to put the popcorn. Then it’s fluttering again. His mind immediately goes to cheesy scenes in movies where hands touch reaching for popcorn. He can’t help it, he’s a hopeless romantic. They whisper as the ads and pre show plays, both agreeing not to touch the popcorn until the movie actually starts. Lance still doesn’t know what movie it is. 

“Can you tell me what movie it is now?” Lance whispers when the reminder to turn off phones comes on. Keith turns to face him, the dim lighting making his face mysterious and extremely handsome. The overwhelming urge to kiss him hits him quite suddenly, but he controls himself. 

“Does it matter, you’re already here,” Keith says. Lance rolls his eyes and quickly snatches a piece of popcorn. Keith looks at him in betrayal and Lance can’t help the snort of laughter he lets out. It earns him a shush from someone a row ahead of them. “Fine, it’s Smile 2 .” Lance’s heart drops. He should have expected a horror movie. “What? Are you scared?” 

Lance crosses his arms and looks away from Keith, staring at the large screen in front of them. “As if. I’m super excited actually. Loved the first one,” Lance says, lying through his teeth. He saw the ads for the first one and was too scared to ever consider it. Smiling is supposed to be a happy thing, not literal demons. 

“Right,” Keith says sarcastically, “but seriously, if you’re really not into it we can ditch and do something else.” He says it genuinely, in a way that’s lacking the normal teasing banter that’s between them. It makes Lance’s heart stutter and face flush. 

“No no, it’s fine,” Lance says. Keith smiles when Lance looks back at him and it makes him shiver. Damn Keith and his stupid face. 

“I’ll protect you from the demons, don’t worry,” Keith says. And if that’s not the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to him, even if it’s making fun of him. But he doesn’t get to answer, as the lights dim and the movie starts up. Lance immediately tenses in his chair, but he has the popcorn to somewhat ground him. As the movie continues, though, he can’t distract himself enough. 

He screams, slapping a hand over his own mouth when a character gets stabbed and shot right off the bat. He’s glad to hear a few other people do the same, but he’s more focused on Keith’s eyes boring into the side of his head. He turns to look at him and Keith has this shit eating grin on his face. Lance just shakes his head and turns back to the movie. But as it goes on, he finds himself more and more scared, shoving more and more popcorn into his mouth until they’re out completely. It’s only twenty minutes into the movie. 

Keith crumbles the empty bag up, getting some complaints in the process and stuffs it in the empty cup holder as he puts the armrest back down between them. Lance is a bit disappointed to have the separation between them again. But when Keith rests his arm there, the hopeless romantic in Lance’s heart sings. And during the next jumpscare, he happens to reach out and squeeze Keith’s hand. And for the next couple jump scares he does the same thing. 

Eventually, Keith traps his hand after one of them and interlocks their fingers. Lance shivers, his entire body tingling. Keith’s hand seems to fit perfectly with his, and the movie genuinely seems less scary with his hand to hold. Lance feels himself start to relax and get used to the feeling of their interlocked hands, but then Keith is moving their arms, lifting the arm rest. Lance looks at him with a raised eyebrow, hardly visible in the dark, but then Keith lets go of his hand and pats his chest. 

Lance swallows the lump in his throat, but who is he to say no to such an offer? With slight hesitation, he leans over and rests his head on Keith’s chest. Keith’s very firm, very warm chest. He sinks into him immediately, letting out a pleased sigh when Keith’s draps his arm over him. He feels like he’s thirteen again, but there’s something so exciting about experiencing something this cheesy. He’s literally having an experience out of a teenage tv show. The rest of the movie is a lot easier to handle after that. Warm in Keith’s arms, Lance feels safe.  

He tries not to think about their position too hard, but he can’t help it. Keith smells good. He’s warm. He’s strong. Lance doesn’t know how he’s even breathing right now. It’s genuinely a miracle. Keith eventually rests his head on Lance’s and they seem to melt into each other. When the movie ends, Lance can’t help but frown, knowing they have to get up and leave the theatre. Keith lifts his head and squeezes the arm he has around Lance. “Ready to go?” Keith asks. 

Lance just hums and hides his face in Keith’s chest. He feels the way Keith chuckles and he can’t help but smile. “I’m gonna be cold,” Lance mumbles. Keith sighs and pats Lance’s shoulder before removing his arm. Lance huffs, but he peels himself away from Keith and rubs his eyes as he looks at him. His heart might explode. Keith is so hot, even here in the dark theatre with ruffled hair. 

“You’ll be fine once you get moving, I promise,” Keith says, standing up and gathering their garbage. He extends his free hand to Lance and he takes it, thankful for the warmth it has. They make their way out of the theatre, but before they can get outside, Lance’s attention is caught by the small arcade near the entrance. 

“Keith, we have to play some of the games,” Lance says, “can we?” Lance feels like a kid, but he loves the bright colours and flashing lights. And the competitive nature is always a bonus. And especially with Keith. Competitiveness is part of what brought them together. 

“Sure, but you know you’re losing every game, right?” Keith says. 

“As if,” Lance says with a scoff, “come on.” He drags Keith by his wrist over to the machine where you get the tokens with a grin so wide it almost hurts. 

–

“What happened to winning every game?” Lance asks. Both of them are out of breath, leaning on the rails on the back of the dance dance revolution machine. They’re three songs in, and Lance has won each and every one. Growing up with siblings that were obsessed with this game gave him quite the advantage. 

“Well, I didn’t know you were a dance genius,” Keith says, “I think your past in soccer gives you an advantage.” Lance shakes his head and crosses his arms confidently. 

“You move your feet just as fast in volleyball, that’s hardly an excuse,” Lance says, “besides, you don’t have to be a good dancer to win this game.” 

“Sure, but you were dancing really well,” Keith says, “you uh- you’re not half bad.” Lance grins and walks over to Keith’s platform so they’re closer. 

“Was that a compliment, Kogane?” Lance asks. 

“I don’t know blue, was it?” Keith asks. Lance’s skin ignites and the competitive flirtiness takes over him. He leans just a bit closer, close enough that they’re breathing each other’s air. 

“You’ve been awfully nice to me lately,” Lance hums, “any particular reason for that?” Keith raises his eyebrows, something playful swimming in his eyes. 

“I think you’re delusional, I’ve always been super kind to you and everyone else,” Keith says. Lance can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him. He doesn’t let the laughter distance them though, making sure to keep within the small bubble they’ve created. 

“Are you a pathological liar too?” Lance asks, “wow Keith, you have so many layers.” Keith rolls his eyes, seemingly reading Lance’s mind before he even says what he’s thinking, “you’re like an onion-” But the world doesn’t want Lance to get too into Shrek, because he screams, nearly jumping out of his skin when someone taps his shoulder, clearing their throat. He can hear Keith laughing at him and he scowls at him before turning to whoever tapped him. 

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you guys were done with the game?” the girl asks. She’s a bit younger than them, and she has a nervous, but kind smile on her face. Lance nods, clearing his throat as he steps off the machine, motioning for her to take his place, “thank you. Sorry for interrupting.” 

“Oh, no worries, have fun!” Lance says as he backs away from the machine. Once she and the girl she’s with are distracted with the machine, Lance turns to glare at Keith. “You tell no one I just made that noise.” He says, jabbing a finger at Keith’s chest. Keith raises his hands in surrender. 

“I thought you weren’t scared from the movie?” Keith says. Lance sighs and walks past Keith towards the door. “I’m your ride, I don’t think you’re getting very far.” Lance turns to face him and crosses his arms. 

“Hurry up then, we need to rest for the big game,” Lance says. Keith catches up to him and bumps their shoulders. 

“The game is on friday, it’s wednesday today,” Keith says. 

“And I need optimal rest time,” Lance says, “now let's go.” 

“You just wanna ride my motorcycle again,” Keith says, walking backwards so he can look at Lance better. 

“So what if I do,” Lance says, sticking out his tongue. When he gets home that night, his sister teases him about his ‘motorcycle boyfriend’ for nearly an hour.

Chapter Text

“Is Matt coming with us or is he going with Shiro?” Lance asks. It’s just after lunch on friday, and they’re waiting around Hunk’s van, preparing for their first real game of the year. It’s nothing super official, just two schools playing against each other for practice, but Lance is really excited. It’s his first time playing a game against people other than his team. He’s excited to learn from it. 

“Oh, he’s going with Shiro and Keith,” Pidge says absently, “I think they already left this morning.” Lance nods, but then he looks at them and raises an eyebrow.

“Keith is going with Shiro and Matt? Isn’t that kinda weird?” Lance says, “I mean, I know Keith’s been on the team since ninth grade, but Shiro’s our coach.” 

“And my brothers boyfriend,” Pidge says, “we also have a weird relation to him. But you know… Keith is Shiro’s brother. You did know that… right?” Lance freezes for a second. He did not in fact know that. He gave Keith plenty of opportunities to tell him that, didn’t he? Why would Keith keep that a secret? 

“Right, yeah, for sure,” Lance says, “we should get going, right?” He slips into the van before anyone else can say anything. He hears Hunk and Pidge mumbling next to the door for a bit before they get into the van silently. Lance refuses to look at either of them from the passenger seat. 

“You okay buddy?” Hunk asks as he starts up the van. Lance picks at the skin around his nails, looking around at the parking lot as they move out of it. 

“Just peachy, why wouldn’t I be?” Lance asks. Sure, he feels a bit betrayed and confused and hurt, but he’s fine. Surely Keith has a good reason for never mentioning it. It’s not like it’s that important. Only that it is, because it means Lance and Keith are more connected than he thought. It means that Keith is basically integrated in his friend group. Does Keith not… trust him? 

“I just figured you knew that since you guys have been so close lately,” Pidge says, “I’m sorry.” Lance sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets to give his nail beds a break. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lance says, “I guess Keith just didn’t want me to know, it’s fine.” He can see Hunk look at Pidge through the rearview mirror out of the corner of his eye, but he pays it no mind. He needs to concentrate on the game, he can figure things out with Keith after. They’ve only known each other for a month or so, maybe Lance shouldn’t be mad Keith doesn’t trust him yet. But still… that doesn’t feel like something not to tell someone. 

–

Thanks to every red light and a particularly long train, they make it to the game with only ten minutes to spare. They were supposed to be there thirty minutes before the game started…Point is, they should be rushing into the building and apologizing profusely to Shiro… which is exactly what Pidge and Hunk are doing. But the sound of Keith’s voice drags Lance off to the side. Hunk and Pidge rush into and Lance stops at the corner of the building, peeking around it to see where Keith’s voice is coming from. 

He isn’t planning to be stealthy at first, but when he sees how tense both Keith and the guy he’s talking to are, he keeps himself as hidden as possible. He can’t hear them, but the general idea is getting across. They’re angry, they’re arguing and they are standing way too close to each other. Sure, it was never specified it was a date, but he thought the movie was close enough. Close enough that he can’t help but be jealous at the way this guy is all up in Keith’s face. It definitely doesn’t help that the guy is extremely attractive as well. 

He should go inside. He should warm up, he should be apologizing for being late, but he can’t. He just watches like a creep as they continue arguing. It seems to swap back and forth from intense to gentle and it’s giving Lance whiplash. Before he can get too invested though, the two start walking away from each other, towards Lance. He takes a sharp breath and speed walks inside, not looking over his shoulder once. 

“Lance, where the fuck were you?” Pidge hisses, grabbing his arm. Lance turns to look at them, still slightly distracted by what he saw. 

“I uh- I just saw something and got distracted,” Lance says. Pidge shakes their head and drags him into the gym, walking directly up to Shiro. Lance cringes, ready for a lecture. Pidge drops him off, smacks his back and trots away to talk to Hunk and Shay. “Hey…” Lance says. 

“Pidge already apologized for you being late,” Shiro says, “it’s fine. I’m more worried about Keith, have you seen him? I haven’t seen him since we got here.” Lance sucks in a breath and his eyes dance around the room, avoiding Shiro’s gaze. He’s not sure if he should reveal that he was spying on Keith. 

“Why would I know?” Lance says defensively. He doesn’t mean to talk to Shiro like that, he’s not sure what came over him. 

“Sorry, I just… assumed since you guys have been so close lately,” Shiro says, “I just need both of you for the starting line.” Lance sighs in defeat and looks at Shiro apologetically. 

“He was outside talking to someone,” Lance says, “it looked a bit… intense, but I think he was making his way inside.” Shiro nods and plants a hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. 

“Is everything okay? You seem a bit out of it today,” Shiro says, “I can keep you out of the game if you’d like.” Lance shakes his head confidently. 

“I’m fine, just a bit nervous for my first real game, that’s all,” Lance says. Shiro nods, convinced enough for the time being. He sends Lance off to stretch and he joins Pidge and the others. He hears Keith come inside, but he doesn’t look his way, focusing on warming up. 

“Aren’t you going to warm up with your boyfriend,” Pidge says, wiggling their eyebrows. Lance sighs and he can’t resist looking over his shoulder to find Keith. He regrets it almost immediately when their eyes meet, and Keith snaps his away. 

“I don’t know if he wants to talk to anyone right now,” Lance says, “seems to be in the zone.” Pidge waves him off and goes back to stretching. Despite everything telling him to stay away, he finds himself walking towards Keith. When he gets to him, there is something off about him. 

“Lance,” Keith says. Lance startles slightly at how flat Keith’s voice is. 

“Hey, just uh- just wanted to talk to you before the game,” Lance says, “you know, first game nerves and all.” He’s never felt this awkward around Keith. There’s something wrong, and it definitely has to be more than nerves. 

“You’ll be fine,” Keith says, “just do what you’ve been doing.” 

“Is everything okay?” Lance asks hesitantly. Keith tenses for a second, avoiding Lance’s gaze. 

“Yeah, just nervous, ya know,” Keith says. Lance just takes a short breath and nods. 

“Right, I’ll leave you to it then,” Lance says. 

“Good luck,” Keith says suddenly. Lance turns to look at him and they share a brief moment of silent eye contact before Keith walks away. Lance just watches him, mouth slightly agape. Everything about that interaction was so unsettling. And that’s not what Lance needs before the game. He feels like he’s off his game and they haven’t even started. Whatever happened outside can’t have been good, Keith has no reason to be weird around Lance as far as he knows. 

He goes back to Pidge and does his best to act natural. Thankfully, the whistle that starts up the game cuts Pidge off before they can push into Lance too much. Shiro gives them a pep talk and makes the starting line up. Lance nearly shits his pants when Shiro puts him up front with Keith as the setter. He gives Keith a quick glance and Keith nods at him. Lance is a bit confused by his flippant energy, but he tries to focus on the game. 

But when the other team lines up, his mind is immediately preoccupied. Standing directly across from Keith is the guy he was arguing with outside. Up close, he's even more attractive and Lance is jealous, even if they were clearly not happy to see each other. This guy did something to Keith to make him so out of it. Lance hates this guy. He has this stupid smug look on his face, and Lance can only imagine the glare he's getting from Keith. 

“Didn't think you'd come back, Kogane,” the guy says, leaning close to the net. Lance tenses and tries to keep his eyes forward. He doesn't want to intrude on whatever this is. “Aw, are you ignoring me? I thought you'd be better than that.” Lance grinds his teeth. Can the ref start the damn game already? 

“Fuck off Griffin,” Keith says, “let's just play a fair game, yeah?” The guy shakes his head and the whistle finally goes off, and Lance snaps his eyes to the server on the other team. His first real game starts now and he's planning to give it everything he has, distracted or not. The second the ball is in the air, he feels himself shift into game mode. 

He's forward on his toes, eyes darting around, hands ready at his side. His team receives it and the ball makes its way to Keith. Lance takes a step back, ready to hit a spike, but then the ball is going backwards, towards the other wing. His teammate nails the spike, getting them the first point. He doesn't mind being the decoy for a hit like that. Instead of smiling like he normally does after a point, Keith just gets back into position, glaring at Griffin. Whoever that asshole is.

The next few points go back and forth for the teams, neither one able to gain any sort of lead. By the time Lance makes it up to serve, he's only touched the ball twice and he's itching to get more action. He looks at the other team, a shiver running down his spine. Normally, he'd look to Keith before he serves, but Keith seems completely focused on something else. Someone else. Lance lets the jealous anger fuel his hit and he genuinely gasps when the serve hits the other side. His first ace. 

This gets Keith's attention and he looks at Lance with wide eyes. Lance can't exactly tell what his expression means, but he's proud of himself. He composes himself and takes the ball when it's tossed back to him. His next serve isn't as good, but it still has the other team scrambling. He gets two more serves before they lose a point and he's subbed off for Pidge. He gives them a thumbs up as they swap places. 

“Lance! I had no idea you could serve like that,” Shiro says, slapping his back, “keep it up.” Lance smiles as pride swells in his chest. That's right, he is good at this damn sport, distracted or not. Speaking of distraction, Lance’s eyes drift back over to the court, where the other team is preparing to serve. Specifically where Keith is standing in front of the net, in the position Lance knows is his preparation for a spike. 

And of course, he’s still across from the stupidly hot, stupidly tall guy he was arguing with. Lance is entranced by everything that follows. Keith is beautiful when he plays. The set he receives is far from perfect, but when he jumps to hit it, it’s like it was meant to be that way. He hits it with grace that can’t possibly be human. The other team doesn’t stand a chance, the ball hits the floor with a solid smack. Keith doesn’t even look at the other team, he just turns around and takes his spot as server. 

When Lance eventually gets back on, he’s more than ready to play. Watching Keith play that well has him itching to play. Once he’s in the front, he’s beside Keith again, and this time, he’s not ready to be a decoy. He wants to hit the spikes he and Keith have been practicing. He wants to put their game chemistry on full display. They’re good as a duo and he’s not about to let that go to waste. The other team serves and Pidge receives it, sending it straight to Keith. Keith, who looks directly at Lance, then spins on his heel, sending the ball to the right wing. 

The spike hits, but the other team receives it easily. Lance grinds his teeth and watches as the ball moves through the other team, until they send it to their right wing. Lance jumps, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces for impact. The ball just barely touches his finger, spiraling away behind him. He just hopes that Pidge is there to get it. But the sound of the ball hitting the floor sends a jolt of disappointment through him. He hears a sigh and looks over to Keith. “What?” Lance hisses. 

“Nothing,” Keith mumbles. Lance huffs and brings his attention back to the game. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into Keith, but it’s really fucking up their flow. Not that they have much flow to work with today, Keith being a prick and all. They lose the next two points on the serves, and Keith won’t even look at Lance. It’s not like it’s his fault! He’s not there to receive the serves, that’s what the back is for. When the opposite team does their next serve, Lance sees Griffin do some weird motion with his hands at Keith and he can almost hear Keith scowl. 

When Keith gets the ball, he looks directly at Lance and sends it to him. Lance’s adrenaline spikes and he feels every muscle in his body erupt with energy. He’s finally going to get his moment. He’s going to show off the spike he and Keith have been practicing. But the second he’s in the air, he knows it’s all wrong. He’s just a second too slow, distracted by whatever hand gestures Griffin did. He hits the ball with just the tips of his fingers, sending directly to their libero in the back, no power or attack to it. When he lands, he can feel Keith glaring at him. 

Keith only sets to him one other time the entire game, and despite Lance hitting it pretty well, it’s apparently not good enough. Keith won’t even look at him, instead he stares daggers at Griffin. Lance is distracted, angry, jealous and disappointed by the time the game ends. He doesn’t even look at his team as rushes out of the gym to the washroom. He needs to compose himself before the next game. He can’t let himself get in his head like this. This is supposed to be his moment, his time to show Shiro that he was right to put him in the starting line. 

He pushes into the bathroom and stops in front of the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He can do this. Mind over matter. He’s a good player, he knows he is. He doesn’t need Keith’s sets, he can show everyone what he’s worth without his help. He’s his own person. He looks at himself in the mirror, glaring into his own soul. He needs to find the energy within himself, he needs to push his emotions to the side. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” someone says, walking up to Lance. He snaps his eyes away from the mirror, trying to settle his face before he looks at who walked in. But he can’t help the scowl that falls onto his face when he’s standing face to face with Griffin. “Are you new to the team?” Lance squints at him, taking note of his height and stupidly sharp jaw. 

“Yeah, and who are you?” Lance asks, hands on his hips. The energy around the guy is scary. It’s like he emanates evil. 

“James Griffin, an old friend of Keith’s actually,” he says casually, “he seems a bit out of it today, don’t you think?” Lance shakes his head. He’s not sure what games this guy is playing, but he’s not a fan. James clearly knows that their argument is getting to Keith. 

“What did you say to him before the game?” Lance asks, stepping into his personal space, “I saw you guys arguing.” James smirks, brushing a hand through his hair. 

“You were watching us? How adorable. Are you Keith’s new toy?” James asks. Lance looks at him skeptically, holding back every urge he has to punch this guy in the jaw. 

“What are you talking about?” Lance asks. James shrugs and turns to the sink, turning the water on to wash his hands. 

“Oh, you know, Keith’s past is a bit… messy, that’s all,” James says, “you didn’t know? I suppose you are new to the team. That’s why he chose you.” Lance walks closer to him, looking at him through the mirror. 

“Chose me?” Lance asks, “I don’t get it.” James turns the water off as he chuckles, flicking his hands to help dry them off. 

“Keith has a tendency to pick someone to play with, to manipulate. He pulls at their emotions until they fall apart, then leaves them behind,” James says, “I bet you guys practice after training, right? And I’m sure he seems very friendly.” Lance scowls. He doesn’t know how this guy knows Keith, but he has to be lying. Keith isn’t like that… right? 

“What do you know, you don’t even go to our school,” Lance says, “maybe he’s changed since you were friends.” James leans against the wall and crosses his arms, looking Lance up and down. Lance stands tall under the gaze, despite his knees feeling weak. 

“I only stopped going to your school this year, had to switch for senior year to this dump,” James says, “just… be careful. That asshole doesn’t want anything to do with you. He just wants someone to mold into a helpless minion to receive his sets.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance says, glaring at him as James makes his way to the door. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” James says, “if you don’t believe me, just ask anyone on your team. You’re not the first one to break down his walls, Lance.” Lance squints at him as the door opens. 

“How do you know my name?” Lance asks. James smiles, shrugs and lets the door close behind him. Lance isn’t sure how long he spends glaring at the back of the bathroom door before he finally gets the balls to go back to his team. They start the second game quick enough that Lance can avoid talking to anyone. 

–

“Why aren’t you setting to me?”  Lance hisses. The other team is ahead and preparing to do their next serve, but Lance isn’t even paying attention. Keith’s being an ass. 

“Cause you’re not hitting,” Keith says, “pay attention to the game.” Lance scoffs, glaring at the other team. 

“Kinda hard when my own teammate won’t play properly,” Lance says. Keith sighs, bending his knees as the other team sends the ball over. 

“Shut up and do something useful,” Keith huffs, turning to prepare for the ball. Lance is currently in the setting position, but instead of setting to Keith, which is the obvious, smart choice to make, he sends the ball over his head backwards to the right wing. The set isn’t good and his teammate barely manages to get it over the net, but it proves a point. Keith doesn’t even look at him as the other team sends the ball back over. 

The team's energy is all off, and Lance is fairly certain he and Keith are to blame for it. He can’t stop thinking about what James said. What if he wasn’t lying? What if James was once one of Keith’s ‘toys’, and Lance is just someone new for Keith to pray on. But Keith isn’t like that, he can’t be. But he’s being a dick. He’s nothing like he normally is when they play games in practice. And Lance hates it. He hates that the person he’s slowly been falling for is showing a side he never knew existed. A side he is trying to refuse exists. 

But then Shiro is subbing Lance off with a stern look on his face. Lance slumps his shoulders, trying to hide his face. He was supposed to give Shiro a good impression, really show him what he’s capable of on the court, instead, he’s completely embarrassing himself. Unfortunately, Shiro isn’t going to let him off the hook, and he follows Lance to the bench, sitting next to him. “What’s going on out there?” Shiro asks. Lance sighs, trying to push his emotions away. 

“It’s uh- I don’t know,” Lance says, knee bouncing. He’s not convincing anyone, not with the way his voice wobbles slightly. Shiro looks at him sympathetically. The softness of his gaze makes Lance feel small. 

“Is everything okay? You and Keith aren’t playing the way you normally do,” Shiro says, “did something happen?” Lance isn’t sure what to say. Did something happen? Clearly something is weird between them, but he’s not entirely sure exactly what that is. One second they were okay, the next, they were dumpster fire. 

“What do you know about James Griffin?” Lance asks, avoiding Shiro’s questions. He can’t answer them, but maybe Shiro can. Shiro seems to tense at the name, looking at the guy in question. He sighs and pats his knees. 

“He used to be on our team, when he still attended the school. He was and still is an amazing player,” Shiro says, “he and Keith… didn’t get along too well in the end.” 

“And at the start?” Lance asks. He hopes Shiro says they were never friends, that they always had some sort of animosity, but he knows what he’s going to hear. He braces himself, but he’s not sure that’s enough. 

“Well, before that they were dating… I guess,” Shiro says, “it doesn’t matter. The point is, James moved schools for his senior year, he’s the same age as you. I thought he and Keith could be mature about things, but I can feel the tension between them.” Lance sighs, trying to stop his knee from bouncing so much. 

“No kidding,” he mutters. Shiro places a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. 

“I’m sorry that whatever is happening out there is affecting you. I want you to know it doesn’t change how I see you as a player. I know you’re good, and I also know my brother can be an asshole.” Shiro says. Hearing Shiro mention their relationship so easily stings. It was clearly Keith that wanted to keep it a secret then. 

“You got that right,” Lance says, “sorry, shouldn’t shit talk your brother to you.” Shiro just chuckles and drops his hold on Lance’s shoulder. 

“It’s fine, I know how he is. Just… don’t give up on him, okay? He’s got a good heart, he’s still learning how to show that,” Shiro says, “I’ll keep you guys separated for the rest of the day. It’ll give you both the opportunity to play better.” He smiles and Lance does his best to return the gesture. Thankfully, another one of his teammates catches Shiro’s attention and it lets him take a few calming breaths. 

He doesn’t need to worry about any of this. He existed just fine without Keith, he can keep going without him. Sure, he’s stupidly hot, stupidly talented, and really funny and genuinely kind if you listen and- no. Lance isn’t going to think about that. There are other hot people. His friends are funny. His family cares about him. He doesn’t need Keith.

Chapter Text

“Would you stop moping for one second and help me with this?” Pidge asks. Hunk shakes his head at them, but ultimately lets Pidge and Lance figure their shit out. He’s sick of the moping too. 

“I am not moping,” Lance says with a huff. He’s sitting on Pidge’s couch, curled in on himself, wrapped in a thick blanket. Just then, Matt walks in, Shiro trailing not too far behind him. 

“You’re moping, I just got here and I can confirm you are moping dude,” Matt says. Lance grumbles and hides himself deeper in the blanket. He doesn’t want to deal with any of this right now. He’d like to wallow in his misery in peace. 

“He’s been like this for a week,” Pidge says, “it was sad at first, but now it’s annoying.” 

“Hey, let the guy feel his emotions,” Hunk says, “he’s like a sad puppy.” Hunk pats him on the head as he walks by, and Lance doesn’t even have the energy to swat at his hand. Shiro, the angel he is, stops in front of Lance and smiles softly. 

“What’s up?” Shiro asks. Lance doesn’t look at him, he just hides his head in the blanket and takes a deep breath. 

“Nothing,” Lance mumbles. He hears Shiro chuckle, so he finally looks up at him. 

“Seems like something,” Shiro says. Just then, Pidge jumps out from behind Shiro and lands directly next to Lance, nudging his shoulder. 

“He just doesn’t want to tell you because it’s about your brother,” Pidge says, wiggling their eyebrows. This time Hunk actually hits Pidge and they glare at each other. Lance just wants to shrink into the couch and never come back. 

“You are a piece of shit, Pidge,” Matt says, “leave him alone.” 

“Did Keith do something to you? I’ll beat his ass,” Shiro says. Lance has hardly ever heard Shiro swear, so he looks up in surprise. Shiro looks serious. He may be mad at Keith, but he doesn’t need Shiro to do anything about it. 

“Seriously, a jerk,” Matt says. Lance just shakes his head. 

“He uh- it’s fine,” Lance says, “we just had a disagreement. He didn’t do anything.” Hunk looks at him skeptically, but he leaves it to Lance. This is Lance’s problem to resolve after all. 

“Okay, I won’t press you, I just-” Shiro is cut off when Matt slaps a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. 

“No volleyball talk right now, okay?” Matt says, “we’ll leave you guys alone, I just needed to grab some stuff from my old room.” Matt drags Shiro away and Lance goes back to hiding in his blanket. Pidge drops their head to his shoulder and they both sigh. 

“I’m sorry for that,” Pidge says, “I just hate seeing you like this.” Hunk plops down next to Lance and leans into him as well. Despite his inner turmoil, Lance feels pretty safe and comfortable right here. He has some damn good friends. 

“I know we’ve been teasing you, but it’s just not like you to be so… down.” Hunk says, “can you give us a little more information?” Lance huffs, but his friends are trying to help and support him, the least he can do is make it easier on them. He’s just not sure where to start. They know about his tiny little crush on Keith, but they don’t know it’s a little more than tiny. And they don’t know what actually happened between them besides Keith keeping Shiro a secret. 

He tells them about the movie with Keith, about the argument he saw between him and James. About James in general. They listen carefully, interjecting here and there. It’s nice to get everything off of his chest, but he’s nearly in tears by the end of it. He knows he’s being dramatic, but something about Keith brings it out of him. As much as he wants to punch Keith right now, he also wants to hold him and play with his hair. It’s confusing. 

“I didn’t realize you guys were that close,” Hunk says, “I’m sorry all of that happened.” Lance sniffles, trying his best to keep his tears pushed back. He’s not going to cry about this. 

“Do you believe what James said?” Pidge asks. Lance shrugs. He’s sure what to say. He doesn’t want to believe it, but if Keith was hiding Shiro from him, who’s to say he’s not hiding anything else. Why else would he suddenly get so harsh? All it took was one conversation with James and Keith was a completely different person. 

“I don’t know. I just… I really like him. I know I flirt with people recklessly, but Keith feels… different,” Lance says, “I don’t know. Like I’m pissed at him, obviously, but I just want to see him. I miss him.” His friends look at him sympathetically and he hates it. He doesn’t want pity, he just wants to resolve whatever it is between him and Keith. 

“Have you guys talked since the game?” Hunk asks. 

“Only briefly during practice,” Lance says, “he seems to be avoiding me. But I guess I’m avoiding him too, so I can’t get too mad.” He looks at them and sighs, squeezing the blanket around himself tightly. “It doesn’t matter, can we go back to Pidge’s project?” Hunk looks at him, but he gives up, knowing once Lance moves on, he moves on. They don’t mention Keith for the rest of the night, but Lance can’t stop thinking about him. 

–

“Hey,” Nyma says when Lance sits down, “everything okay? You’ve been quieter the past couple days.” Lance smiles at her soft tone and bright smile. Seeing Nyma in his art class every morning has been a really good distraction lately. His mind has been crowded with everything Keith, but seeing her pushes that to a smaller corner of his mind. If he lets himself get distracted enough, Keith is nothing but a whisper. 

“Yeah, just having some issues with the volleyball team,” Lance says, “nothing crazy. It’s just been quite an adjustment to switch from soccer.” Nyma nods and pulls out her sketchbook, opening it to a page with a dog eared corner. She turns it towards Lance. It’s a drawing of a dragon. It’s beautiful. 

“What do you think? I might do something like this for the project,” Nyma says. Lance really does like her art, but he’s getting a bit bored of her constantly showing it off to him. He’s seen this dragon through its multiple stages. She’s shown him every drawing in her book multiple times. Don’t get him wrong, Lance likes when people are passionate, but she just seems to be showing off. Regardless, she’s talented and pretty and maybe he’s just jealous of her artistic ability. 

“It turned out really amazing,” Lance says, “I have no clue what I’m going to do for my project.” 

“Well, you seem to draw those robot things a lot, why not do something with those,” Nyma says, “I got my idea from this book I was reading. The way the author described dragons really inspired me.” Nyma rambles for the rest of the class between Allura’s lectures and Lance listens happily. He interjects here and there, but she does most of the talking. It’s a weird change for him, letting someone else do most of the talking, but he doesn’t mind. 

By the end of class, he’s got a rough idea for his project that they’re supposed to start on monday. He takes Nyma’s suggestion and brainstorms something he can do related to the robot cats he’s been sketching. It’s something he’s done ever since he was a kid. He saw them in a dream one time, this team of magical robot cats that came together to save the world, and since then, they’ve been a pillar in his mind. It’s nice to have enough practiced skill now to somewhat bring his drawings to life. 

“Hey, so you’re still coming to that party tonight, right?” Nyma asks. Right. The party. Lance promised he’d and he’s her ride. It’s probably a good thing for him to go. He needs to get out of his head and enjoy his senior year, and a big party seems like a really good way to do that. 

“Of course, maybe we could get something to eat beforehand?” Lance says. Thankfully, his mom is letting him borrow her car, so he has the freedom to take them anywhere and get them home safely. He promised not to let a drop of alcohol enter his system. 

“I’d like that,” Nyma says with a smile, “wear something hot, yeah?” Lance nods, cheeks slightly flushed. It’s not often his flirting is met back with the same energy, but Nyma almost out does him sometimes. It’s impressive and attractive to say the least. 

–

“And no drinking or anything at all, you hear me?” his mom says. She has her hands on his shoulder, shaking him slightly in front of her. 

“I heard you mama, I promise I’ll be responsible,” he says, “your car will be back in one piece by two at the latest.” His mom nods proudly and lets her grip loosen slightly on his shoulders. 

“And you remember how lucky you are I’m letting you stay out this late?” she says. He nods and she finally lets go, wiping her hands on her pants, “well then, go and have fun cariño. And you make sure to be nice to this girl.” Lance rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his lips. He would never dream of being mean to Nyma. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Lance says, “I promise I’ll be awake in time to take care of breakfast.” She smiles at him softly and ushers him out of the door, patting his back encouragingly. His mom loves love just about as much as he does, so he’s not surprised she’s being so lenient with him for this. Once he’s actually in the car, the excitement and nerves hit him. But also something uncomfortable in his stomach. 

Last time he went on anything close to a date was with Keith. That was natural, that was comfortable. Lance was buzzing for the entire night, even when he was at home in his bed. He’s excited to spend the night with Nyma and just partying in general. Even if he’s staying sober, he’s going to let himself go a bit, just have fun and stop worrying about everything. When he gets to Nyma’s house, which is massive and luxurious, she comes outside wearing a beautiful, deep blue dress. 

It fits her curves perfectly and really brings out the sparkle in her eyes. Lance remembers exactly why she caught his eye in the first place. He gets out of the car and opens the door for her, getting a giggle in response. His chest swells and when he gets in the car, he can smell the sweet, vanilla perfume wafting off of her. It’s pleasant. “Hello handsome,” she says, “thanks for picking me up. Where to for dinner?” Lance grins. 

He knows a place or two in town that serve amazing food and there’s one he knows she’s going to like. She’s mentioned time and time again that she loves sushi more than anything, and Lance knows just the place. Sure, it might hurt his wallet quite a bit, but if he gets to see that pretty smile on her face, it’s all worth it. He may have somehow messed things up with Keith, but he’s not going to let that happen with Nyma. 

“Are you taking me to Cherry Blossom?” Nyma asks excitedly, “oh it’s been months since I’ve been there.” Lance has a smug look on his face when he opens her door, leading her into the restaurant. The party starts in an hour or so, it gives them plenty of time to eat and talk. They both order fancy looking rolls and eat in near silence as they enjoy them. Once they’re done eating, Nyma tells Lance all about her plans for art school once she graduates.

Lance listens the best he can, but he doesn’t know much about art or what careers people actually pursue in that world. She doesn’t really give him much time to talk, so he gives up bringing up his plans to work for NASA. Eventually though, they have to go to the party and Lance pays for their food, tipping the waitress generously, like his mom always taught him to do. The party isn’t too far from the restaurant and Nyma directs Lance to park around the back somewhere. She seems to know the host pretty well. 

Lance can feel the ground vibrating with the music and the second he opens the door, he’s met with the smell of booze, weed and sex. Seems like a pretty average party, not that he would know much about that. Despite what people think, he’s not a huge party person. He’d rather go to an escape room, or obstacle course or even a hike than a party. It’s easier to connect with people in those situations, but he’ll still have fun. He is strangely good at cup pong after all. 

“Who’s hosting this anyway, this house is beautiful,” Lance says. He can hardly hear himself over the music, but Nyma seems to hear him well enough. She leans down to speak closer to his ear and he shivers. 

“Rolo, you were on the soccer team right? So you know him!” she exclaims. Of course Lance knows him. He knows that he’s a douchebag with a decent ability to score a goal. But Nyma seems to be friends with him, and maybe he’s not half bad outside of soccer. Sports can bring something nasty out of people…

“Yeah,” Lance says, “does he throw parties often, it’s packed in here,” Nyma nods and takes his hand, leading them to the kitchen, likely so she can start drinking. It’s not the first time Lance is sober around people who aren’t. Not even his first date where he’s sober and his partners not. She makes herself some concoction of pink whitney and some bright red juice, but Lance hardly pays attention. He’s more focused on scanning the crowd, looking for people he knows. 

“Wanna play cup pong? I need to beat Rolo,” Nyma says. Lance grins. Now is his time to show off. He’s never lost a game of cup pong and doesn’t plan on this being the first. 

“With me on your team, you can’t lose,” Lance says, “come on.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her out to the table that’s set up with the cups. There’s a pretty heated game happening, but it seems to be close to the end. Lance can see Rolo waiting by the table and it immediately spikes his competitive, petty nature. He’s going to show this asshole. 

When the game eventually wraps up, Nyma and Lance make their way to the table, getting the cups in order. Rolo is busy talking to someone, but slowly makes his way to the table, grinning when he sees them. “Lance… haven’t seen you in a while.” His tone seems normal enough, but Lance knows him, he knows Rolo is being a douche. 

“Ready to get your ass handed to you?” Lance asks. Nyma laughs softly and sticks her tongue out at Rolo who just rolls his eyes. He’s alone on his side of the table, but it doesn’t seem like there’s a shortage of people who want to be on his team. Despite that, he still looks around with a wicked smirk on his face. 

“Who wants to be on my team?” Rolo asks. Lance is mostly occupied with Nyma as they discuss their tactics to win the game, but then a voice Lance couldn’t possibly ignore cuts through the chatter in the room. He knows the music is still playing and people are still moving, but it’s like the world stops for a second. When he turns to look, his heart drops. 

“I’ll play,” Keith says. The last person Lance expected to see at this party was Keith fucking Kogane. His stomach drops and he feels slightly light headed. Keith looks at him with this strange glint in his eyes and it makes Lance shiver. In this setting, with the loud music and dim, colourful lights, Keith is beautiful. His hair is in a loose ponytail, the fallen hair framing his face perfectly. Lance has to piece himself together. 

“Where’s your drink, McClain?” Rolo asks. Lance looks to Nyma, but she just shrugs, sloshing her own drink in front of him. He was hoping to get out of this game without a drink. He can’t drink. He needs to get back home. Needs to get his car back home. 

“I don’t have one,” Lance says. Keith seems to be in the same boat, but he quickly grabs an empty cup from the floor, pretending it’s full. Lance squints at him, but Keith refuses to look his way. 

“We can’t play if you don’t drink, Martin! Get Lance a drink,” Rolo says, “make it heavy.” Lance swallows the lump in his throat. He should back out, everything about this game is wrong. Keith shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be competing against Rolo. But Nyma is holding his arm, blinking at him sweetly. 

“I’m not supposed to drink tonight,” Lance whispers, ignoring the eyes he can feel prying into him from the other end of the table. Nyma flutters her eyes, looking up at Lance softly. He feels himself start to crumble rather quickly. 

“Please? I don’t stand a chance without you,” Nyma says. And Lance is a weak man. He wants to impress her. He wants to show Keith and Rolo that he’s top shit. Because he is. A drink is soon handed to him and the game starts. Rolo and Nyma stare each other down from either end of the table and toss. Unfortunately, Rolo’s ball lands, meaning he and Keith get to start. They each take a ball. Rolo misses and Keith… he looks directly at Lance, winks, and misses. 

Lance doesn’t know what it means. Why would Keith miss intentionally? What kind of asshole behaviour is this? Is he trying to get Lance back as his toy? Is he psyching him out? Lance doesn’t have long to dwell on it though, because Nyma is nudging his arm. He lets her go first, watches one of the worst throws he’s ever seen, hiding his sigh when he angles for his throw. It lands, of course, and he watches with a grin as Rolo takes a generous swig of his drink. And as Keith takes one from his empty cup. 

As the game continues, it gets heated. Rolo and Nyma seem to have this unresolved argument going on, while Keith and Lance… do whatever it is they’re doing. It feels like flirting. It feels like fighting. Lance isn’t entirely sure what it is, but with alcohol running through him, it makes his heart flutter. By the time they’re down to one cup each, Lance is on his second drink and he’s most definitely feeling it. Sorry mom, but winning takes priority right now. “You’re up, Rolo. Show me what you got.” Lance says. 

Rolo grins, tossing the ball. Lance watches it closely, but he can tell it’s going to miss. It’s too low. It hits the side of the cup with a quiet thud and bounces perfectly over to Nyma- who looks rather smug. Then Keith steps up and Lance tenses. He has this look in his eyes, something Lance has never seen before. It’s intense and focused entirely on him. He holds back the noise threatening to leave his throat. Keith is pretty damn hot like this. Whatever this is. And of course, the ball lands perfectly in the cup. 

“Redemption!” Nyma exclaims, “come on Lance, let’s show em.” He smiles at her, blushing slightly when she goes on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, “this one is for you.” She whispers. She turns, shakes out her arms and sets up to throw. Rolo is staring at her, and it makes Lance’s skin crawl. Just what kind of relationship do they have? But his attention is of course stolen by Keith, who’s looking directly at him. 

Nyma lands the shot, jumping up with a cheer, wrapping her arms around Lance’s neck. He holds her as she spins them once, smiling ear to ear. She can be quite adorable from time to time. He stands in front of the cup, cracking his neck. He’s only missed two throws the entire game, he’s not allowed to let that be three. “Don’t choke,” Keith says, a sly smile slowly appearing on his face. Lance takes a deep breath, ignoring the way Keith’s voice makes blood rush down south. 

With ease, he throws the ball, barely reacting when it lands in the cup. He keeps his eyes glued to Keith, shoving the victory into his face silently. He’s snapped out of it when Nyma practically jumps on him, smacking their lips together. He’s just drunk enough not to care that people are watching and melts into the kiss. He’s spent long enough staring at her lips, that finally tasting them is blissful. He’s not sure how long they’re like that, but eventually he pulls away, flushed and out of breath. When he looks to the other side of the table, Keith is gone and Rolo is making out with some random girl. 

“Another drink?” Nyma asks. Lance really should say no. He should call his mom and tell he can’t drive, that he didn’t listen and drank anyway. But he doesn’t. Not when Nyma is looking at him with those sparkly eyes and his body is just warm enough from the booze that he doesn’t want the feeling to stop. He’s not sure how many shots Nyma puts into his drink, but it’s definitely too much. He can tell by the way it burns his throat, but he’s already knee deep in this mess, why not go all the way in? 

–

Lance hasn’t been this drunk in his entire life. The room is blurry, everyone’s voices sound like mush and he’s not entirely sure where in the house he is. Nyma is hanging off of his arm, talking loudly with a small group of girls. He just sort of stands there, fading in and out of himself. The music is too loud, his skin is too hot, he feels claustrophobic. He tries to tell Nyma this, but she’s too distracted, so he pries himself from her arm, hoping to find a way to the backyard. Fresh air will surely help. He’s too drunk to notice that the second he walks away, Nyma walks off, grabbing Rolo’s arm and drags him upstairs. 

When he does eventually find the back door, it takes him a few tries to get it open, but he eventually does. The blast of fresh air knocks some sense into him and he’s able to take in the scenery around him. There are a few couples, some people sitting in circles and one person alone sitting on the stairs of the deck. He closes the door behind him and rubs his eyes, trying to see if he recognizes anyone, or if there’s anywhere comfortable to sit. The grass looks nice, so he makes his way towards the stairs, planning to walk by the lone wolf. 

Only for said lone wolf to grab his wrist and pull him down with enough force to make him sit. Lance groans, rubbing at his butt once he’s settled. He’s about ready to fight whoever manhandled him like that, only to freeze in his tracks when he meets sparkling purple eyes. “Keith?” Lance says dumbly. Even just saying one word, Lance can hear how drunk he sounds. It makes him panic slightly, but he does his best to push that away. 

“Where are you headed?” Keith asks. Lance should get up and go. He should find Nyma and spend time with her as he comes down from his drunkenness. But the thought of standing up and going back into that stuffy, hot house makes him feel nauseous. 

“I needed fresh air… grass looks… comfy,” Lance says. He’s slurring his words, his sentences are choppy, but it’s the best he can do. 

“Shit, you’re really drunk,” Keith says, grabbing Lance’s chin so they’re looking at each other, “dude, how much did you drink.” Lance turns his head out of Keith’s hand and crosses his arms with a huff. 

“What do-” he cuts himself off with a hiccup, “what do you care?” Lance asks. He’s pouting, and normally that would be embarrassing, but he’s too drunk to care about much right now. 

“I just- you said you weren’t drinking…” Keith says, trailing off, “do you have a way home.” Lance sighs and points to his car. It’s parked next to the pool in a spot Nyma pointed out to him. Keith grumbles something next to him. 

“What?” Lance asks. His eyes feel droopy and his stomach is starting to swirl. How much did he actually eat at the sushi place? Is he going to die from alcohol poisoning? He can feel panic starting to build up in his chest again and it’s harder to push back than before. He’s breathing is definitely not ideal. 

“Hey, are you okay? You’re breathing fast,” Keith says softly. Lance shakes his head. Isn’t this pathetic. He’s drunk out of his mind, about to have a panic attack, next to the guy he’s practically in love with who seems to hate his guts. Keith stills for a moment, but then he’s reaching out carefully, placing a hand over Lance’s. “Can I have your keys? You might feel better in your car.” Lance fumbles around in his pockets for embarrassingly long before he hands them over to Keith. 

Keith helps him stand and leads him to his car. He helps Lance into the passenger seat, but before he can close the door, Lance reaches out and grabs his wrist. “Don’t go,” Lance whispers. He feels pathetic, but he can’t breathe and he doesn’t want to be alone and he might die-

“I’m not going anywhere, just to the driver's seat, okay?” Keith says softly. Lance studies him for a moment, but he eventually lets go and watches as Keith circles around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s seat. “Have you ever had this much to drink before?” Keith asks carefully. Lance shakes his head, and pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them close. “Okay, just breathe with me okay? Is this okay?” He places a gentle, warm hand on Lance’s back, not moving, just there to ground him. 

Lance hums a response, so Keith keeps his hand there. They start breathing together, bringing Lance’s breathing closer to a normal rate. It takes some time, but Keith is patient with him, talking to him the entire time. When Lance finally calms down enough to see straight and breathe properly, his shoulders sag in relief. Keith’s hand is still there and he relishes in the warmth it gives him. He’s still drunk, but he feels a bit more in control. He’s definitely still drunk enough to forget to be mad at Keith. 

“We should probably get you home,” Keith says, “is it okay if I drive the car? I’d rather you get home with your car then leave it here.” Lance thinks for a moment about his mom. She’d much rather someone he trusts drive the car home than have him take an Uber and come get it in the morning. 

“How are you gonna get home? I can pay for your Uber,” Lance says. Keith looks at his phone, hums, then looks back to Lance. His face is soft in the dim light coming from outside and Lance wants to reach out and touch it. He doesn’t. 

“I’ll get Shiro to pick me up, just put your address in my phone,” Keith says, pushing it towards Lance. It takes him a few tries, but eventually he gets it in and Keith starts the car. It takes them a bit to get out since people are in the way, but eventually they make it to the road. They drive in silence, Lance mostly busy trying to stop himself from puking. As they go, he starts to sober up ever so slightly, and it reminds him that he’s mad at Keith. He angles his knees away from him and huffs. 

“I didn’t know you went to parties,” Lance says eventually, tired of the silence. Keith hums, and Lance doesn’t think he’s going to answer. 

“I don’t normally,” Keith says, “but I uh- well Shiro sort of forced me to go.” 

“Oh,” Lance says softly, “why?” Keith laughs softly and it makes Lance’s heart flutter. 

“He wants me to make more friends or whatever. Says I’ve seemed… down lately,” Keith says. That sparks some hope in Lance’s chest. Maybe Keith misses him too. Maybe they’re avoiding each other over nothing. 

“Did you have fun?” Lance asks. Keith just shrugs and that seems to end the conversation. Lance sighs and looks out the window at the stars. He sort of wishes he could be one of the stars right now, it seems a lot more peaceful being up there than stuck on earth. 

“Did you?” Keith says, “I’m assuming Nyma invited you.” His tone gets harsh at the end, like the words almost hurt to say. Lance turns to him, feeling oddly defensive. 

“I did have fun, until… ya know,” Lance says, “what makes you think Nyma invited me?” Keith chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you parked in a special spot and made out with her for like five minutes in front of everyone,” Keith says. He sounds mad, he sounds annoyed. Lance doesn’t really get it. Keith has been ignoring him for a week, why does he care who Lance is friends with? 

“What’s the issue with that?” Lance exclaims, “am I not allowed to have friends.” 

“Oh, she seems to be more than a friend,” Keith mutters. 

“And so what if she is? She actually talks to me and looks at me,” Lance says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asks. Their voices are both too loud and Lance isn’t even sure what they’re arguing about, but he’s angry and nauseous and tired. 

“Whatever,” Lance mumbles. The last five minutes of the car ride are silent. The tension is palpable and Lance can’t wait to get home and collapse into his bed. He just wants to forget this night entirely. He wants to go back to when things were easy, when his main concern was getting a decent serve during practice, or writing a good paper for the high science conference. Now his stupid heart is involved. 

When they pull into his driveway, Keith kills the engine, handing the keys to Lance. Their fingers brush, but neither of them look at each other. Lance should get out and leave, let Keith figure out his way home, but instead, he just sits there, waiting for something. Keith takes out his phone and holds it to his ear, likely calling Shiro. Lance waits patiently as they arrange a ride for Keith, but the nausea starts to take over and he swings his door open, puking right into the bush lining his driveway. He’ll have to hose that away in the morning. 

As he’s emptying the contents of his stomach into the bush, a warm, familiar hand rubs his back, sending tingles down his spine. Despite everything, Keith is at his side. It makes his heart beat hard enough it might break his ribs. When he sits up, his face is flushed, both from exertion and embarrassment. He didn’t want Keith to ever see him like this. “All good?” Keith asks. Lance nods, wiping the corners of his mouth on his shirt. He’ll think about how gross that is later. 

“Thanks,” Lance says, ignoring how hoarse his voice is from puking, “for driving me and everything… else.” Keith nods, patting Lance once on the back for good measure before standing up straight. 

“Shiro’s gonna be here soon, you can go inside and rest,” Keith says, “just… maybe keep a bucket or something close by.” Lance nods, standing from the car to close the door and lock it. He just needs this night to end. Hopefully he won’t remember any of it in the morning and he can live on in ignorant bliss. 

“Hey, so- I don’t think I’m going to remember much of tonight in the morning, could we uh… can I take a quick picture with you so I can see it in the morning and know you helped me?” Lance asks. It’s a weird request, he knows it is, but it feels important for his future self to know Keith did all of this for him. Even if they’re ending on an awkward note. Even if they resolved nothing between them, Keith still stayed by his side. 

“I guess so, why not,” Keith says, “gimme your phone.” He takes it from Lance, standing next to him awkwardly, pressing their shoulders together. Lance does a thumbs up and smiles the best he can while Keith has his classic resting bitch face next to him. He captions the picture ‘Keith helped me get home’ and saves it, shoving his phone in his pocket so he doesn’t forget to bring it inside. 

“I’m waiting until I see you get into Shiro’s car,” Lance huffs when Keith looks at him expectantly. He shakes his head, looking more stern than Lance has ever seen him. 

“Go get some sleep, you’re gonna have a hell of a hangover in the morning,” Keith says, kicking Lance’s ankle. 

“I can’t just leave you out here!” Lance says, “we have coyotes here. And evil people who roam the streets.” 

“I promise I can handle myself,” Keith says, “go.” Lance lets out a long breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

“Geez, if you don’t wanna be around me so bad, just say so,” Lance says, turning to walk towards the door. 

“Lance, you know that’s not-” Keith starts, only for Lance to shush him, plugging his ears. He stops when he gets to his door, leaning against it as smoothly as he can. Keith rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything else, he just leans against the side of the car and waits. It’s only a couple minutes later when Shiro pulls up and Keith gets into his car, only looking at Lance for half a second before he closes the door. Shiro waves and Lance returns the gesture, only stepping into his house once the car starts moving. 

He flops onto his bed, not bothering to change or do anything about skin care. But he does dig through his nightstand for some mints to get rid of the puke taste still lingering in his mouth. When he eventually settles into the blankets, his mind fills with images from the night. Images of Nyma and her beautiful dancing and bubbling laughter. Of Keith’s smirks and wink. Of the room spinning, of fresh air and Keith under the stars. He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

Chapter Text

Lance wakes up in time to make breakfast for his family, but he promptly avoids looking at any of them, rushing to his room to shower the second that he can. He woke up puking and now his head is pounding and his body is aching. Why do people even drink again? Thankfully, the warm shower helps a bit and he just stands there under the water, trying to piece together everything that happened the night before. He definitely blacked out, that’s for sure. He remembers playing cup pong. He remembers the way Keith looked at him. The memory makes him shiver, even now under the hot water of the shower. 

He remembers making out with Nyma after they won and her dragging him to the kitchen for another drink. After that, it gets real spotty. He vaguely remembers dancing. He remembers making out with Nyma again in some corner. He remembers feeling hot. He… how the fuck did he get home? As he washes the grime from his hair, he tries as hard as he can to remember what happened, but his mind is drawing a blank. But someone got him home. And he remembers feeling safe… comfortable. And puking in the bush on his front lawn… he should probably deal with that. 

He eventually gets out of the shower, albeit quite reluctantly, and slips on some comfortable clothes. He shoves his dirty clothes in the hamper and digs around his bed for his phone. He’s hoping it’s not completely dead, but he doesn’t exactly remember where he left it last night. For all he knows, he didn’t even bring it home with him. When he’s about to give up, he hears his phone buzzing from his hamper. Of course, it was in his pocket. He digs it out, cringing at the smell of his dirty clothes and sees Pidge’s name. He debates ignoring it, but ultimately picks up. 

“Lance! Are you busy today?” Pidge asks. His head pounds at the volume of their voice, but he takes a breath and presses the phone back to his ear. 

“Not particularly, what’s up?” Lance asks. He can hear some rustling on the line and he just waits patiently. Pidge has a habit of sitting in inhumane positions when they’re on the phone. But instead of Pidge’s voice, Matt’s takes over. 

“There’s this mud race for a fundraiser and we need as many people to join as we can, you down?” Matt asks. And honestly. No. No he is not. Right now, he just wants to rot in his bed and try to piece together what exactly happened the night before. But he’s not going to miss out on something this cool just because he couldn’t control himself the night before. 

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Lance says. He hears excited mumbling from the other side and they quickly figure out time and place. It gives Lance a few hours to get himself prepared and do the homework he knows his mom is going to pester him. When Pidge eventually hangs up, Lance goes to his camera roll, hoping to have some pictures to jog his memory. And jog his memory they do. His breath catches in his throat when he sees a selfie of him and Keith. He looks drunk as fuck and Keith looks like he’s trying to appear annoyed, but there’s the smallest smile on his face. 

Keith got him home. It was Keith who made sure he was home safe. Keith who made him comfortable and happy. When he should have been with Nyma, he was with Keith. The realization makes his heart beat heavily against his ribs. Little snips of the night start to flood back into his mind and he flushes thinking about it. Why did Keith do that for him? He doesn’t know where he and Keith stand and this only makes things more confusing. Before he can lament too long, there’s a knock on his door. “Come in,” Lance says softly. 

“Hey, how drunk were you last night?” Veronica says, walking into his room. He sighs. He wishes she would just move out already, who cares that the housing market is bullshit. She’s been reading him like a book since they were kids. 

“None of your business,” Lance huffs. She just smiles and sits next to him on the bed, handing him a cup of coffee. He takes it without complaint. 

“It’ll help, believe me,” Veronica says, “so, you actually went to a party last night? Or were you on a date or something. I didn’t recognize the guy who dropped you off.” Lance scoffs, feeling slightly embarrassed, he’s not exactly sure how to explain that one to his sister. 

“I went to a party, that was uh… it’s hard to explain,” Lance says. Veronica just looks at him and he sighs. She’s had her fair share of crazy high school stories, this is nothing in comparison. “Fine, I went to the party on a date with this girl from my art class, Nyma.” Veronica nods, Lance has mentioned her a few times here and there. He’s not exactly good at hiding his feelings around his family. “Everything was good, I was going to stay sober but then… things happen, I get way too drunk, lose track of Nyma and end up outside.” 

“And some knight in shining armour got you home?” Veronica asks. Lance shakes his head, although she’s not exactly wrong. He just doesn’t want to admit that. 

“It was Keith, the guy on my volleyball team,” Lance says. Veronica gasps and looks at him excitedly. Maybe he needs to be a little less obvious about his feelings in front of his family. 

“That’s the one you’re basically obsessed with! This is great! Please tell me you guys had a magical romantic night,” Veronica practically squeals with excitement and Lance just groans. If only. If only things were like the week prior when they were at the movies. 

“No, nothing like that… we’re not on the best terms right now, the point is, he got me home and mom isn’t going to kill me for getting drunk,” Lance says, “... once I clean my puke out of the bushes with the hose.” Veronica scrunches her nose, but Lance knows very well that she’s done the same exact thing. 

“Aw, boo,” Veronica says with a pout, “did you at least have fun with Nyma? You planning to take her on another date?” Veronica is no stranger to prodding, and Lance knows he’s not getting out of this conversation. He sighs in defeat and looks down at his feet as he thinks. Is he going to take her out again? He’s honestly not sure. Yes, she’s talented and beautiful and smart and funny, but is it fair to go for her when he’s still so… stuck on Keith? 

“I don’t know, I’m gonna have to feel things out, honestly,” Lance says. 

“Caught up on the pretty boy?” Veronica says knowingly. 

“Get out of my head,” Lance whines, “how do you always do this?” 

“I went through the same thing in high school, remember all the drama with Ryan?” Veronica says, “I was so in love with him, still am,” she says, smiling with a slight flush, “but I spent so long trying to get over him cause of that stupid argument we had. I dated Plax for a while to get over it. It didn’t work.” Lance sighs. He remembers it all very clearly. Plax was great, a little eccentric, yeah, but a nice girl deep down. Veronica really was just caught up with Ryan. Lance can’t blame her, Ryan Kinkade is one hot guy. 

“Are you saying I should focus on Keith?” Lance asks. Veronica smiles at him fondly. 

“I’m not suggesting either of them, I’m just saying to listen to your heart. I knew deep down that Ryan was the right choice from the start. I don’t regret the time I spent with Plax, only that it took time away from my relationship with Ryan.” Veronica says softly. Lance smiles at her genuinely. He’s not sure what he’d do without his siblings. Veronica has always been there for him. 

“When did you get so wise?” Lance asks. She just shrugs and stands from the bed, nodding to the cup of coffee in Lance’s hands. 

“Drink up, okay?” she says as she leaves the room. Lance nods, taking a generous sip from the cup. He feels a little better, both from the warm liquid and the reassuring words. It’s true, hearing ‘follow your heart’ doesn’t always do much to help, but hearing that his sister went through something similar and came out just fine, definitely helps. He spends the rest of the afternoon catching up on homework until it’s time for Pidge, Matt and Shiro to come pick him up. He’s dressed in all white, as they requested, and he’s bombarded with high energy when he gets in the car. Thank god for the cup of coffee Veronica brought to him. 

The drive to the event isn’t too long, and most of it is filled with excited babbling and teasing. Apparently, Matt has been excited to see Shiro covered in mud for quite some time now. Lance listens happily from the backseat, completely content to let Pidge and Matt do the talking for now. He needs to save what little energy he has for the mud race itself. When they pull up, the entrance is crowded with people, all of them dressed in different colours. It’s honestly really fascinating to see. Pidge practically drags him out of the car, and only as colours flash by does Lance realize all the teams have six people. 

“Who’s our sixth teammate?” Lance asks. They’re meeting up with Shiro and Hunk, as far as he knows. They didn’t mention anyone else. Are they starting with a disadvantage? 

“About that,” Pidge says. They don’t have to say anything else for Lance to figure it out. There’s only one person who could make Pidge say it like that. Only one person that they would have conveniently left out of the conversation in the car. “Surprise?” Pidge tries. Lance huffs, walking next to Pidge reluctantly as they find the rest of their group. Matt immediately trots over to Shiro, showing off his all white outfit. Pidge jumps over to Hunk, pulling out a headband and shoving it at his chest. He takes it gratefully, wrapping it snugly over his forehead. Lance pointedly ignores Keith. 

But he still looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Because he’s a weak man and he’s never seen Keith in white and he’s curious. But Keith catches him and Lance looks away, stomping over to Hunk and Pidge with a pout. “Why didn’t you tell me he would be here?” Lance asks. Pidge shrugs with guilt and Hunk puts his hands up defensively. Lance sighs and slumps against Hunk’s shoulders. “You guys are going to be the death of me.” 

“Mmm, I don’t know, I think he’s going to be,” Pidge says. Lance takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers before he looks over to see Keith approaching them. 

“Hey,” Keith says, “surprised you made it.” Lance pouts, but quickly fixes his expression, trying to keep his cool. It’s hard when Keith’s tank top is tight against his skin, showing off his perfectly toned muscles and stupidly slim waist. Stupid Keith and his stupid muscles. 

“Of course I did, and I’m going to beat your ass,” Lance huffs. 

“This is a team activity, you idiot,” Pidge says, “sorry about his rudeness Keith.” Lance looks at them in betrayal, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. 

“Well I’m not sorry,” Lance says. Keith looks almost hurt for a second and Lance is about to feel guilty, but then something else takes over his face and he crosses his arms as well. 

“Right, I forgot you have more important people to spend time with than me,” Keith says, “try not to break any bones today, Shiro will kill you.” With that, he walks away, leaving Lance to glare at him as he walks away. Lance totally doesn’t take a quick look at his ass in those stupid basketball shorts as he walks away. Definitely not. 

“What was that about?” Hunk asks. Lance just shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. 

“Long story, now let's warm up, shall we?” Lance says, clapping his hands. Pidge and Hunk share a glance, but they give in, joining the rest of the team to do some sort of warm up. Lance isn’t entirely sure what to expect from this race, but Keith was right about one thing, he can’t get hurt, they have their first tournament in a couple weeks. He’s not going to let the team down, not the way he did at the away game. 

The obstacle course stretches across the entire field, and it looks like it’s going to take them quite some time to get through. Lance is actually pretty excited, he loves this kind of stuff, and with their team, he has no doubt that they’ll do well. Between all of their athletic abilities and chemistry… mostly… they’ll be flying through the course. Lance is just going to have to pretend Keith is someone else. And not get distracted by how he’s going to look in a mud soaked, white tank top. 

Hunk comes up beside him, slapping a heavy hand on his back, “you ready to win this thing?” Hunk asks. Lance nods, cracking his neck for emphasis. Soon, their whole team is lined up and everyone is waiting for the race to start. The first obstacle is just a large, shallow pool of mud to get everyone dirty, but Lance can imagine the floors are quite slippery. It might take Hunk a couple tries to get there, being just a tad clumsier than the rest of them. 

When the whistle sounds off, there’s a commotion of colours and yelling and slipping and splashing. Lance has a huge smile on his face, laughing hard enough to hurt his stomach as he and his friends slip their way across the pool. He was right, it’s way too slippery and people are falling everywhere. “Guys, all fours!” Lance yells. Thankfully, his entire team hears him before the other teams do and they drop down, crawling across the pool. They make it to the other side first and run over to the next obstacle. It’s a tall wall with short ropes at the top. They have to somehow get over it. 

“Shiro, can you reach the rope from down here?” Matt asks. Shiro reaches up and grabs the rope with his good arm, nodding when it’s only a couple inches above his fingers. If he jumps, he’ll get it no problem. “Okay, Hunk and Shiro, help get us over.” They take turns climbing on their friends and hoisting themselves over the wall. Lance stops at the top, watching as Keith and Shiro help Hunk over. Lance can’t help but stare. 

Keith’s muscles roll and flex and the moisture from the mud has made his shirt translucent and even tighter somehow. He looks so hot, hot enough that Lance forgets to be mad for a moment as he watches. But then he sees Shiro and Keith do a practiced handshake and the anger comes back to him. Keith kept Shiro a secret. He’s mad about that, no matter how hot Keith is right now. He lands on the other side of the wall with a huff, just in time to see Keith get hoisted over as well. He slips at the top though, and starts coming down a bit too fast. 

Lance reacts on instinct, rushing forward to where Keith is going to land, planting his feet and sticking out his arms. It’s probably stupid, he’s probably going to break a bone or two, but he can’t let Keith get hurt. The team needs him… that’s why. Keith hits his chest and knocks them both to the ground. Lance is relieved not to hear anything snap and takes a second to catch his breath once they’re on the ground. His back is flat to the ground with Keith on top of him. They’re both frozen for a second before Keith meets his eyes. Their faces are only inches apart, and Lance can feel Keith’s breath fanning his lips. 

But then the moment ends when Shiro lands next to them, splashing them both in a considerable amount of mud. Keith shoots up, wiping the mud from his eyes while Lance takes a second longer to do the same. “Sorry!” Shiro says, sounding not the least bit sorry as he rushes to the next obstacle. Lance groans and follows behind them, rubbing at his tailbone where there’s surely going to be a bruise. Keith looks back at him, silently checking on him, and Lance just nods. Of course Keith wouldn’t want someone on the team to be injured. It’s the same reason Lance cushioned his fall. 

The rest of the course goes by really fast. They work together really well, as long as Keith and Lance avoid each other, and they finish first, the pink team just slightly behind them. They’re all exhausted by the end, flopping on the grass at the end to catch their breaths. Lance smiles up at the sky, both giddy from the win and from doing something like this with his friends. Hunk is laying next to him and they both laugh gleefully, turning to grin at each other. “Dude, when you hit that target on your first try, it was so hype!” Hunk exclaims. Lance meets his hand in a high five between them. 

“And the way you ran across that skinny plank with Pidge on your shoulders!” Lance says, “you killed it.” Pidge seems to be summoned by their name and joins them, talking about the highlights from the race. They eventually sit up and lean into each other as they complement one another. It reminds Lance of when he and Pidge first joined the soccer team and Hunk would watch every game. They would spend hours talking about the plays after every game. Soon Matt and Shiro join them and they make their way to the table that has water and snacks provided by one of the sponsors of the event. 

“Hey, where’s Keith?” Hunk asks, “is he not with you guys?” Matt shrugs, too busy eating the large cookie in his hand, that Pidge keeps trying to steal, even though there are plenty on the table. Shiro sighs and points over to a tree in the distance where Keith is sitting, picking at his nails. “Is he okay?” Shiro nods, shrugs and reaches for his own cookie. 

“Maybe you should check on him,” Matt says, looking at Lance with a playful wink. Lance groans. 

“Why would I do that?” He asks. Shiro frowns and looks over to his brother, then back to Lance. He has this disappointed dad look in his eyes. 

“You guys gotta get along sooner or later, we need you guys to win the tournament,” Shiro says. Matt doesn’t scold him for volleyball talk this time, instead he just munches happily on his cookie, arm hooked around Shiro’s. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lance says, “working on it.” Pidge scoffs and he glares at her. 

“Right, that’s what you’re doing,” Pidge says. Lance kicks at their ankles, but they just chuckle in that stupidly evil way. When they all look at him expectantly, he sighs in defeat and makes his way over to Keith. He doesn’t have to talk to him, he can just… stand there. That should satisfy everyone. But of course, that would be too easy. Keith looks up when Lance approaches and Lance’s resolve crumbles. 

“Hey…” Lance says, toeing at the ground awkwardly. Keith just looks at him, like he’s waiting for him to say something else, “are you okay? Everyone’s missing you over there.” Keith huffs and picks at the blades of grass. 

“Everyone, huh?” Keith says sarcastically. Lance scowls and straightens his posture. 

“What stick is up your ass?” Lance asks, “did I do something?” Keith seems to growl as he stands up, leveling his eyes with Lance. 

“No,” Keith grumbles, pushing past Lance. 

“Then what the fuck?” Lance exclaims, “I can’t fix things if I don’t know the issue.” Keith whips around to look at him, squinting. 

“Can’t you go complain to Nyma about this, there’s nothing to fix,” Keith says. 

“What’s your issue with Nyma?” Lance asks. Keith just shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath. 

“Can we not do this here?” Keith asks. Lance steps closer to him, so that no one else can hear their conversation. 

“Do what exactly? I don’t understand what’s wrong,” Lance hisses. Keith groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“That’s the damn problem Lance, you don’t get it,” Keith mutters. 

“You’re damn right I don’t get it, just fucking tell me,” Lance says, “you just suddenly decided to hate me after the away game. What am I supposed to do with that?” 

“I’m not doing this,” Keith says, pushing past Lance once again. This time, he gets away and Lance watches in dismay as he goes. He frowns, but quickly fixes his expression as he approaches his friends. Keith is talking to them like nothing’s wrong. It makes something twist in Lance’s chest. 

–

When Lance gets to class on Monday, he’s sort of worried about seeing Nyma. He just kind of… left her there at the party. Or she left him? Doesn’t matter. The point is, they didn’t exactly end the night on the best note, so he just hopes things aren’t too awkward. He tries not to let Keith’s obvious dislike for her cloud his mind. Thankfully, she smiles at him brightly when he takes his spot and there doesn’t seem to be anything awkward between them. “Hey,” Lance says softly, “sorry for disappearing at the party.” 

“Don’t apologize, I disappeared too! My friends swept me up into a game of never have I ever,” Nyma says, “you had fun though?” Lance does his best to smile genuinely. It wasn’t the worst night by any means, but it definitely wasn’t the best either. The best memories he has from the night are foggy images of Keith laughing. 

“For sure, thanks for inviting me,” Lance says. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Nyma says with a small giggle, “I’d like to do that again sometime.” She smiles warmly and Lance flushes slightly. He’s never had a girl be so direct with him before. He doesn’t really have to think much about the offer, ignoring the voices in his mind yelling at him to say no. 

“For sure, maybe sometime later this week?” Lance says, “we can do something after one of my volleyball practices.” She smiles happily and they fall into a conversation about their projects. Lance actually gets a surprising amount of work done on his project and he thinks he might actually finish it in time. It definitely helps having someone as talented as Nyma to guide him as he goes. 

“So, how has volleyball been? You guys have your first tournament coming up soon, right?” Nyma asks. Lance looks at her excitedly. He’ll take any excuse to talk about volleyball. 

“Yeah! It’s been really good, I think I’m improving a lot,” Lance says, “the tournament is in a few weeks.” 

“You know, I used to play volleyball back when I was a kid,” Nyma says. She goes into a ramble about the sport as they both work and Lance nods along as she goes. It’s interesting to hear about her past and how different it is from his. “So, you busy at lunch today? I was hoping you could help me out with my science homework.” Lance gnaws on his cheek, thinking about the plans he made with Pidge and Hunk. They can wait, they have lunch together every day. 

“Sure, yeah, I can help,” Lance says. And that’s what starts their daily study sessions. Lance does his best not to think about what he’d rather be doing at lunch. He wants to make Nyma happy, and this… well it keeps her smiling.

Chapter Text

The tournament is in a week. To say Lance isn’t ready would be an understatement. He has really not been playing his best. But he’s been busy, between the high science program, watching his nieces and nephews and having a social life, things get hectic. Oh, and taking his girlfriend on dates too. That’s right, Lance McClain has a girlfriend. Somehow, he managed to weasel his way into Nyma’s heart. He’s still not sure how he actually managed to do that. 

When he gets to practice, the entire team is there, warming up and listening as Shiro calls out what the plans are for the day. He takes his spot next to Pidge who glares at him for being late… again. He just smiles apologetically and joins in on the stretching. “With your girlfriend again?” Pidge asks. 

“What does it matter?” Lance asks. Pidge rolls their eyes. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe it matters for the tournament,” Pidge says, “do you not remember how much you were improving before you two started dating?” Lance glares at them, studying the stern look on their face. 

“Why is everyone so against me dating her?” Lance exclaims. They both snap their heads to the front of the gym when Shiro clears his throat loudly. They both shrink into themselves slightly and mouth a quick sorry. He nods and turns his attention back to the group. 

“Because she has a reputation,” Pidge hisses as quietly as they can, “I care about you, Lance, and I know you care about this team and this sport. You’re not yourself right now.” 

“It’s not like I’m the only one slacking,” Lance says, “don’t see that stupid mullet anywhere.” Pidge groans in the familiar way they do when Keith is brought up. 

“Are you guys still not talking?” Pidge asks. 

“Enough, you two, separate,” Shiro says. Pidge huffs, but stands and walks away from Lance, not looking back. He looks after them guiltily, but goes back to stretching, not wanting to bother Shiro more. He should be happy, he’s doing well in his classes, he has a girlfriend, his family from out of town is visiting… but he’s just… fine. He hates it, and he hates that his mind always comes back to Keith. Fuck. Keith. 

And like the universe has something against him, Keith walks in a moment later, running up to Shiro to whisper something to him. Shiro shakes his head, but ushers Keith to join the rest of the team. Eventually, they break off into groups and do their regular practice. Lance and Keith avoid each other, and now Lance finds himself avoiding Pidge too. It seems like all of his friends are tense around him now for some reason. When he’s off to the side, Shiro grabs his arm and drags him away from the team. “Hey, what’s going on?” Lance mumbles. 

“We need to talk,” Shiro says sternly. Lance stands up straight, shivering at the tone. Shiro sounds angry. 

“Uh- sure, yeah, we can talk,” Lance says, swallowing the lump in his throat. Shiro quickly glances around to make sure everyone is out of earshot and looks back at Lance. 

“Two things. First, what the hell are you doing? Your playing has dropped significantly. You’re hardly hitting the ball over the net,” Shiro says, “second, what the hell did you do to my brother, huh?” Lance shrinks slightly, but he does his best to stay tall. 

“I’ve been busy, okay? I’m trying my best,” Lance says, with a slight frown. 

“We both know that’s not true,” Shiro says. 

“And I don’t know what I did to Keith, that’s the fucking problem,” Lance says in exasperation, “he hates me okay? Is that what you want to hear? Your brother wants nothing to do with me and I have no idea why. And I don’t know how to fix it.” Shiro frowns, like that was the last thing he expected to hear. That’s what he gets for interrogating Lance like this. 

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Shiro says cautiously. 

“No, you don’t get it! Since the away game, he’s been a jerk, okay?” Lance says, “and I know, you thought we were all buddy buddy, but apparently not. Maybe James was right.” Lance mumbles the last part to himself, but apparently not quietly enough. 

“James?” Shiro says, “Lance… what happened?” But Lance doesn’t answer, he just crosses his arms and looks anywhere but at Shiro directly. 

“Take me out of the tournament for all I care, Nyma has concert tickets on the first day anyway,” Lance grumbles. Lance tries to walk away, but Shiro grabs his arm. 

“Nyma?” Shiro says carefully. Lance nods, ripping his arm from Shiro’s grip. 

“Yeah, my girlfriend, Nyma,” Lance says. Something seems to click in Shiro’s mind and he grimaces, looking at Keith for a fraction of a second. 

“You should really talk to Keith-” 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to practice, since my playing has been so shitty,” Lance says, cutting him off. Shiro just sighs, letting him go. Lance doesn’t need this right now. Despite what he said, he really doesn’t want to be taken out of the tournament. He wants to be in the starting line. He wants to get them to the top. He shakes everything out and walks back over to his group who gladly bring him back into the drill. 

–

“Okay, we have everyone here, you guys have five minutes until we have to be on the bus,” Shiro says, “please don’t go far, but stretch out your legs while you can, and make sure you have all your bags packed on the bus.” Shiro is in dad mode, and it makes Lance and Pidge giggle as they watch him order everyone around. It’s weird seeing Shiro like this, when they’re getting so used to seeing him as a friend. 

“You ready?” Pidge asks. They’re practically jumping with excitement as they sway from foot to foot, stretching their arms over their head. Lance grins the best he can. Honestly, he’s nervous more than anything. Shiro was right, he hasn’t been playing his best, and despite his best efforts, he hasn’t been getting much better. Before he can complain to Pidge though, he sees a familiar ponytail rush into the school. 

“Hold on, I think I saw Nyma, I’ll be right back,” Lance says. Pidge sighs, but doesn’t say anything else as Lance jogs to the school. He needs some luck before this game starts, and hopefully some encouraging words from Nyma will do the trick. She probably went inside to look for him. He walks into the main entrance and looks around, smiling to himself as he goes deeper into the school. When he rounds the corner, he sees her… but she’s not alone. 

His heart drops to his feet when he recognizes the person sucking face with her. His entire body fills with hurt and anger. He’s frozen on the spot for a moment, unsure of what to do. It’s like everything in his body has shut down. His heart shatters, his mind collapses and his knees wobble. So much for good luck. He’s snapped out of his frozen state when Rolo seems to notice him and looks up with an evil smirk. Lance charges towards them, pushing hard at Rolo’s chest when he gets there. 

“What the fuck?” Lance exclaims. Nyma at least has the decency to look panicked and guilty, but Rolo is just as smug as ever. Lance wants to slap him across the face. He wants to beat the shit out of him, but even then, most of his anger turns to Nyma. She betrayed him, “what is this?” Lance says, voice cracking. 

“Lance, I can explain-” Nyma starts, but Rolo cuts her off, pushing behind him as he towers over Lance. 

“Got a problem, buddy?” Rolo asks, voice low and evil. Lance takes a step back so he can properly look at both of them. 

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you. I’m done with this,” Lance says. He turns on his heel, not looking back even when he hears Nyma call out to him. He doesn’t have time for this. He has a volleyball tournament to focus on. His heart is just going to have to wait. He rushes through the hall, keeping his head down as tears threaten to spill over. When he gets outside, everyone is piling onto the bus and he slips in line behind Pidge. 

“Woah, dude, are you okay?” Pidge asks, seeing the grim look on Lance’s face. He huffs, crosses his arms and nods. Pidge seems to get the memo and boards the bus without another word. They take a seat next to each other and Lance immediately stuffs his earbuds in and glares out the window. 

“Okay, just gonna do one last check,” Shiro says, looking over the rows of seats and the list of names in his hand, “and of course… we’re waiting on Keith. Just one moment guys, sit tight.” Lance looks up as Shiro leaves the bus and groans. The last thing he wants to think about right now is Keith, and here he is, bringing all the attention to himself. A couple minutes later, Shiro and Keith get on the bus and Shiro shoves Keith into the last empty seat with a glare. 

The bus ride there is about an hour, so Lance does his best to settle into his spot and pointedly ignores every other living person on the bus. He’s never been cheated on before. It’s settling into his system heavily and it feels like his legs and arms are full of lead. He tries to distract himself with everything that’s passing by, but he can’t keep his thoughts at bay. Pidge doesn’t bother him, which he’s thankful for, he really doesn’t want to cry on the bus. He can’t help but look at Keith, though, and he nearly chokes on his breath when their eyes meet. 

Eventually, they make it to the building that’s hosting the tournament. They have their first game this afternoon, before they can sign into their hotel. “Alright, leave your bags here, take only what you need for the game. And please, stay with the group when we get inside, I can’t lose any of you.” Everyone slowly files out of the bus, thanking the driver and getting their name checked off on Shiro’s list. When everyone else is off, Pidge taps Lance’s shoulder and he just groans. 

“Come on, if you won’t tell me what’s going on, at least put some pep in your step,” Pidge says, “I’m not carrying you inside.” Before Lance can answer, Shiro is behind them, placing a hand on their shoulder. 

“Head inside, I’ll deal with him,” Shiro says. Pidge nods and prances off the bus, looking at Lance apologetically. Lance looks up at him and he can feel his walls breaking down. Shiro looks at him softly and sits next to him. “What’s up?” Shiro asks. Lance takes a shaky breath and tries to compose himself. 

“Rough day?” Lance offers. Shiro sighs and Lance slumps forward. He won’t cry in front of Shiro. “I caught my girlfriend cheating on me,” Lance says after some silence. Shiro’s breath catches in his throat, but he keeps a calm look on his face.

“Lance, I’m so sorry, I know how that feels,” Shiro says, patting his shoulder. Lance looks up at him with wide eyes. 

“Someone cheated on you ?” Lance says in disbelief. Shiro chuckles and leans back in his seat slightly. 

“Yeah, had a rough junior year,” Shiro says, “but I promise you’ll feel better. I know how much it hurts, but she clearly didn’t deserve your heart and your kindness.” Lance nods, doing his best to keep his tears at bay. A few stray tears have managed to drip down his cheeks, “she took herself out of your life, and you shouldn’t let it stop you from living and loving. You have people who love and care about you. Focus on them.” Lance sniffles, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. 

“I- I’m not sure what to say,” Lance says, voice small and weak. Shiro smiles at him softly. 

“You’re a good kid, Lance, and I know I give you a lot of trouble, and I’m not sure what happened between you and my brother,” Shiro says, “but I see a lot in you. I know you’ll make the right choice. Now take out some anger in the game, yeah?” Lance chuckles softly and nods, wiping the last of the tears from his cheeks.

“Thank you Shiro,” Lance says, “really. I’m really happy to have you around. And I’m sorry about all the drama that I bring with me.” Shiro smiles at him fondly and pats him on the back. 

“Don’t apologize for that, I promise it’s not annoying like you think it is,” Shiro says, “now go before you miss warm up. Pidge is stupidly excited to lead it today.” Lance smiles and gathers his bag that was at his feet. 

–

Lance is planning to go and warm up with his team, he really is. The talk with Shiro did help a lot and feels like playing with his team will really help too. But once he’s in the building and he hears all the excited chatter and laughter, his stomach swirls. When he sees people hugging and running to help each other, his head feels fuzzy. He turns on his heel and makes darts for the nearest empty hall. After a few turns, he finds a hall with all the lights off and no one to be seen. He presses his back against the wall and slides to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. 

He lets himself cry, really, truly cry. Everything comes crashing down on him all at once and it feels like his body is caving in on itself. It’s not a panic attack, everything just hurts. His head, his heart, his limbs… he’s not sure he can play like this. He doesn’t want to disappoint everyone, but isn’t playing poorly worse than not playing at all? Lance isn’t sure how long he’s alone in the hallway, running in circles through his thoughts, until footsteps echo nearby. He looks up cautiously and his heart jumps to his throat when he sees Keith. 

Keith who is as beautiful as ever. Keith, who is basically glowing with the light from behind him. Keith, who Lance has found the most comfort in, in a really long time. Keith, who is walking towards him, with a stern, but sad look on his face. “Lance?” he says softly. Lance tries to hide his face away, embarrassed to be seen like this. “Lance, what’s going on?” Keith says. He’s close now and Lance looks up to meet his gaze. Keith is bent down in front of him so their eyes are on the same level. 

“Go away,” Lance says pathetically, ripping his eyes away from the hold Keith has on them. But Keith doesn’t move, he just stays there, staring at Lance’s compact form in front of him. 

“You’ve been really looking forward to the tournament, why are you all alone here?” Keith asks. His voice is cautious. It’s soft and it only makes Lance sob softly. He hears Keith’s panicked breath, but he’s quick to compose himself and sit down in front of Lance. 

“What do you care? You’ll be just fine without me,” Lance says, “it’s not like I’ve been contributing much to the team lately.” Lance knows he sounds pathetic. He knows self depreciation is annoying, but he can’t help it. He’s a pile of self pity right now. 

“I think we need to talk,” Keith says. Lance chuckles despite himself and looks up, not bothering to worry about the tears soaking his cheeks. 

“Right, cause that’s something you’re so good at, communication, right?” Lance says. Keith flinches, but quickly recovers, reaching out to stop Lance from picking at his nails. Lance flinches at the touch, but Keith doesn’t seem to care. 

“Lance, please. I- I know I haven’t been the best friend but I… I want to work things out,” Keith says. Lance scoffs and goes back to picking at his hands. 

“Why right now, Keith? Why not weeks ago? Why do you suddenly want to talk to me before a big game? Am I nothing more than a toy for you? Someone to win you your final tournament?” All the questions rush out of Lance faster than he can even think. There’s so much bottled inside of him and Keith is pushing all the right buttons to make everything boil over. Keith takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Nothing I say will forgive what I did, and I know that. But I want to tell you everything. I want to explain myself,” Keith says, “you don’t owe me anything, but… can you just hear me out? Just this once?” Lance would normally bite back, would normally refuse to let himself be walked all over like this, but it’s Keith. He resigns. 

“Fine, explain to me why you fucked around with my feelings and then decided to hate me,” Lance says bitterly, “explain that to me. I know what I am, I know I’m just another one of your boys to mess around with.” Lance can’t help the venom that laces his voice. There are so many built up feelings towards Keith, he can’t keep them at bay. Keith looks at him with this blank stare for a second, before something seems to click. 

“James,” he hisses, “fuck. I should have known. This all makes sense. That fucking spawn of Satan.” Lance watches the outburst, and all it does is make him angrier. Keith’s going to play the victim card and Lance isn’t going to take it. He’s going to hold his ground. 

“While we’re here, mind telling me why you kept Shiro a secret? Or why you have some deep rooted hatred for my girl- my ex girlfriend. I’m sure you’re happy to hear that one,” Lance mutters. Keith’s eyes are wide. A million things seem to be passing through his mind. But then his features soften drastically and Lance can feel it chipping at his reserve. 

“You and Nyma broke up?” Keith asks. Lance groans. He just wants this to be over. He wants to go back in time to the movie theatre, when things were good- great - between him and Keith. He wants that back more than he’s wanted anything in a long time. 

“That’s what you took from that?” Lance growls, “I can’t believe this. Yes, I caught Nyma cheating on me with that asshole, Rolo. Happy?” Keith frowns deeply and pulls at his shoelaces. The silence between them is thick, like there’s so much that both of them need to say, but neither of them know how to say it. 

“Lance, I had no idea,” Keith says, “shit, okay. I have a lot I need to explain. This is so fucked.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me Shiro was your brother? I just- I’ve been trying to understand for weeks why you never told me. I thought… it doesn’t matter what I thought,” Lance mumbles the last part. Whatever he thought about himself and Keith is clearly not the truth, so he needs to stop clinging to it. 

“It didn’t seem important,” Keith says. But Lance isn’t buying it, and based on the look on Keith’s face, he’s not either. 

“You had so many chances, I asked about him, you knew he was dating Pidge’s brother… it just- it’s stupid Keith. Did you think you could keep something like that a secret?” Lance’s tone is harsh, but he doesn’t feel guilty. He can’t let himself feel guilty. They stare at each other in silence, daring the other to speak. But Lance won’t crack until he gets an explanation. Keith stares at the ground, like he’s trying to burn a hole through it. He mumbles something, but Lance can’t hear him. He clears his throat and tries again. 

“I was jealous,” Keith says. 

“Jealous? That’s all you’ve got?” Lance says. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice isn’t kind by any means. 

“Look, I know it’s stupid. And I know it’s immature and selfish and I went about it the worst way possible, but I just… I’ve spent my whole life in Shiro’s shadow,” Keith says, “he’s good at everything and everyone loves him. And I get it, he’s an amazing guy, but you… you saw him the way everyone does.” Lance stays silent. He’s not sure when it’s his time to speak again. 

“You admired him and I couldn’t blame you and I didn’t want you to think you got stuck with the worse brother. And saying that out loud right now makes me feel really stupid, but I… I guess I wanted to be my own person. I wanted you to myself, even though you were already friends with Shiro.” Keith says, “and I wish I had told you, all of this would have been so much easier.” 

“Keith…” Lance says, unsure of what else to say. He really does get it. His older siblings are admirable too, and he’s constantly compared to them. He just… can’t imagine himself being important enough to Keith to worry about that. 

“And I’m really sorry about the away game. I was being really shitty to you and you really didn’t deserve it. And then when you started to be hostile back I- well I got bitter and angry and scared and I took it out on you,” Keith says, “and I’m not going to use James as an excuse. He shouldn’t be an excuse, he’s not. My emotions shouldn’t tear you down. I ruined that game for you.” Lance has never seen Keith so sad before, and it’s pulling at every last string in his heart. 

“You don’t have to forgive me for anything, I just really want to get it all out there,” Keith says. He stops for a moment, seemingly to collect himself, straightening his back so he can look at Lance properly, “and about Nyma… I don’t hate her, I was… fuck here I am blaming jealousy again. You chose her and it made me unbelievably angry. Her and Rolo have been hooking up since freshman year. She’s cheated on every guy she’s dated, with him. But I was petty about it and didn’t tell you because I wanted you to get hurt.” 

It stings, but Lance is starting to get it. He’s not completely innocent in this situation. He doesn’t know exactly what happened between Keith and James, but he’s starting to think James is more of an asshole than he thought. “So, really, I’m sorry about everything. I really, really miss you. You can ask Shiro, I think you’re one of the first people who’s ever made me cry. Just cause you weren’t there.” He chuckles at himself sadly. Lance is speechless. He feels like he’s drifting away from his body as he tries to digest everything. 

“Keith, I… this is a lot to take in,” Lance says, but he tentatively reaches out and takes one of Keith’s hands, avoiding his eyes for a moment, “I really, really, m-” 

“There you asshats are, the game starts in like two minutes,” Pidge says, “geez, sorry for interrupting, but the uh- I’ll see you guys in there.”   

“Come on,” Keith says, pulling Lance to stand up. He wipes the drying tears from Lance’s cheeks and squeezes his hand, “we can talk after the game. Right now, I need you to play your best, okay?” Lance smiles, sniffling the last of his tears away. 

“Only if you give me your best sets,” Lance says, grinning slightly. 

“Of course,” Keith says softly. Then they take off running to the gym, hands still tightly connected.

Chapter Text

The gym for the tournament is bigger than any gym Lance has played in before. The bleachers are filled with students, parents and scouts, stuffed to full capacity. It’s strange to have to look so far up to see the crowd, and even then, Lance can barely see them against the bright lights shining down on the courts. There are two courts set up, thankfully with a divider between them. Lance’s biggest pet peeve is having a good play interrupted by a stray ball. When he and Keith walk in, Keith lets go of his hand and jogs away, over to where Shiro and Matt are standing. 

Lance smiles, happy to see Matt there to support them. He knows Matt’s mostly there for Shiro, but Lance likes to think he’s happy to watch Pidge and himself play. Lance walks over to Pidge, slightly hesitant and awkward. “Hey,” Lance says, “sorry about… earlier.” Pidge smiles at him and elbows him in the ribs. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad Shiro and Keith were able to bring some sparkle back,” Pidge says, “but promise you’ll tell me what’s going on after the game at some point?” They stick out a pinky and Lance grins, locking their fingers together. The whistle sounds and Shiro gathers them in a huddle, doing a quick pep talk and sending them out in the starting line up. 

“You think you can handle starting on?” Shiro asks. Lance swallows and looks around the gym. He looks at the other team and all the people staring at their court. When his gaze passes over Keith and their eyes lock, his body relaxes. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Lance says. Shiro seems to catch on to where he’s looking and smiles at him softly, patting him on the back. 

“Show 'em what you got, tiger,” Shiro says. Lance smirks and jogs backwards onto the court. Shiro rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. Lance turns around and settles into his spot. He’s starting in the back left, giving him some time to settle into the game before he’s up front. Keith is in front of him, doing his usual pre game stretches. They may still have a lot to talk about, but for now, things are okay. 

The other team wins the coin toss and starts with the ball. Lance bends his knees, tilting forward and extends his hands at his sides. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He might actually be able to play the way he knows he can today. The ball comes soaring over the net and heads directly for Lance. He grins and steps under it, sending right to their setter. A wave of pride washes over him, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted. One good play doesn’t make a good game. 

The next couple points are pretty tame. The points go back and forth, and like most of their games, neither team is able to get a lead. Unfortunately, he and Keith weren’t able to do much when they were at the front, but Lance is more than ready to serve. Sure, his playing the last few weeks has been… subpar, but his serving has only gotten better. He takes a deep breath, looks at the ball, at the other court, at Keith and tosses the ball up. With a graceful, practiced jump, he soars into the air and smacks the ball. 

He watches, as things seem to move in slow motion, as the ball cuts through the air, just barely going over the top of the net. It slides past their back line, hitting the back corner with scary accuracy. It hits the ground before Lance does. His entire team turns to look at him, shocked at the ace. They knew he could serve… but that, well they hadn’t seen that before. But what truly makes him grin, what genuinely makes his cheeks flush is the dazed, impressed look on Keith’s face. 

His next three serves are aces as well, always hitting the spot where the other team is the most vulnerable. When he gets the ball back for his final serve, he looks at the score and smiles. His serves have finally given them a decent lead, one that the team can hopefully keep up once he’s subbed off. The other team is more prepared for his serves now, more spread out and on high alert. It just makes the competitiveness flow through him, igniting something deep inside him. He’s not aiming for the floor this time. 

He jumps, putting everything he has into his swing. He watches as the ball spins through the air. It’s over the net in a second, flying towards the other team at record speed. All his other serves have been straight and stable. The ball had little to no rotation. But this one… this one is different. Lance watches with a smug smile as the ball wobbles just before it drops, confusing the player behind it. They hit it, but it ricochets off their arms to the far right, landing all the way up in the stands with the audience. 

There’s silence for a moment and everything in their half of the gym seems to still. But then suddenly the audience is cheering him on with light applause. His entire body feels warm and his fingertips buzz. That’s the first time he’s done a full set of serves before. He’s happy to be subbed out, to let the ball move to new hands. He feels proud of himself, in a way he never was even in soccer. When he sits on the bench, gulping down some water, he can feel Shiro staring at him. “What’s up?” Lance asks, wiping his mouth. 

“It’s just good to see you back,” Shiro says, “and to see where all that skill went these past few weeks. You’re a damn good hitter, Lance. Gonna have to start calling you sharp shooter.” Lance flushes at the praise. Hearing something like that from someone like Shiro is like a dream. 

“I’m happy to be back,” Lance says. Shiro doesn’t say anything for a while, and they just watch as the team fights to keep the lead. They’re doing a really good job. Lance is proud of them. 

“Think you and Keith can pull off some of your combos?” Shiro asks when Lance is about to be subbed back on. He looks at Lance knowingly and he shrugs. 

“I hope so,” Lance says, “I really do.” Shiro nods and sends him off. When he and Keith get into their ideal position, with Keith as setter and Lance on his left, it’s like a puzzle piece snaps into place. All the practicing they did together, all the time they spent arguing at the net and pushing each other, it all comes flooding back. It makes Lance’s body buzz and his heart race. How did ever lose sight of what he and Keith had? Veronica was right. Of course she was. 

When the ball gets to Keith, he turns his back to Lance and excitement courses through him. It’s the attack they’ve practiced more than anything else, but haven’t had the chance to use. The second the ball touches Keith’s fingers, Lance is in the air, swinging his arm back as far as it will go. And in the blink of an eye, the ball is in his hand and it smacks the other side, right between two players, hitting the only place that was open. When Lance lands, he doesn’t even look at the other team, he looks straight at Keith, heart thudding when Keith’s already looking at him. 

Keith puts both of his hands up and they high five, the slap echoing through the gym as people try to comprehend exactly what just happened. Lance wants to scoop Keith up in his arms and kiss him silly, but he holds himself back and turns back to the game. Win the games first, then let his feelings pour out. Sure, he’s still mad at Keith, but it’s hard when all his other feelings towards Keith feel so much stronger. 

They manage to keep their lead and win the first game. When they run off the court to surround Shiro, Lance feels warm inside. He has Pidge by his side, and it feels like when they won their soccer games. But this feels more like a real team. He likes everyone here, he likes what they do, he likes how they play. It’s like he was always meant to end up here, in this moment. Shiro looks at them with pride, making sure to compliment everyone and explain why exactly they won. 

As they prepare for the second game against the team, Shiro puts Lance, Pidge and Keith on the bench with the rest of the team. He doesn’t let anyone play in all three games, and he must be saving them for the third game against this team. Lance sits next to Keith hesitantly, unsure of where they stand. A lot has happened in a short period of time between them, lines feel blurred and tangled. “I’m really happy you guys pulled that off, it looks so sick in game,” Pidge says, breaking the silence. 

Lance is grateful to hear their voice. It distracts him from the growing tension between him and Keith. They have to sit out this entire game, just… brewing next to each other. It wouldn’t be wise of them to have that conversation before the next game. “Did it? It felt fucking awesome,” Lance says, smiling genuinely. 

“Hard work pays off,” Keith says softly. Something about his voice sounds shy and it makes Lance’s heart stutter. There’s so much about Keith he wants and needs to learn. They watch as the team puts in their best efforts, reacting to every play dramatically. As the game goes on, Lance feels himself leaning into Keith. Not enough for them to touch, but enough that he can feel the heat coming from his body. Eventually, Keith knocks their ankles together, then hooks them together. 

It’s lame and cheesy, but it makes Lance flush anyway. He really hopes that their conversation after this is easy. He hopes that they can clear everything up and just… be what they were before everything got so complicated. When the third game rolls around, all three of them are on their feet ready to go. Lance is practically vibrating with anticipation. They lost the second game, which means they need to win this game to move on to the next bracket. It would really suck to go home only playing the loser bracket. 

The game goes very similarly to the first one, both teams fighting hard for points, not letting the other get a lead. It’s clear that both teams really want to be in the winning bracket. Lance gives it his all, even though there’s someone between him and Keith for the first half of the game. Lance isn’t going to question Shiro’s choice, it still gets them points. Eventually, Lance gets subbed off and the entire time he’s sitting, it feels like his body is going to explode. The team isn’t getting a lead, at this rate, it’s anyone’s game. 

When he eventually gets subbed back in, he’s next to Keith. It makes him more excited than it probably should. But he knows they can do this. They can win this game. The points go back and forth again, until they deuce at 25. Two points to win. Lance can feel his adrenaline pumping and he’s itching to get those points. Things are reversed this time, he’s the setter and Keith is to his right. It’s perfect. The other team serves and they share a glance. They both know what to do. The serve is damn good, good enough that Pidge isn’t able to get a solid receive, but Lance will make it work. 

He adjusts to be under the ball, ready to set it to Keith. But Keith nods to the left wing as he starts to jump. Lance changes his stance last second, sending the ball behind himself to their other hitter. The other team is there to block Keith, completely unsuspecting of the other hitter. Lance has never done a reverse set in game, the other team fell for Keith as the decoy. Lance isn’t sure Keith has ever been a decoy. The other team still manages to receive the ball, but it spins out of control and they’re not able to send it back over. Not wanting to waste a second, the ball is back to them and the team gets back into position. 

They just need one point. If they get this next point, they’re in the winning bracket. Lance looks over his shoulder briefly to where Keith is preparing to serve. He wants to win this point with Keith, but he can’t be selfish. He needs this point for the team, not just himself. If he gets to spike the ball for victory, that’s enough for him. Keith sends the ball over, the other team is just barely able to receive it, but it comes right back over, after only one hit. Their team receives it, but instead of sending the ball to the setter, it flies towards Lance. 

Almost like it’s telepathic, Keith meets his gaze and it’s like they both have the same exact thought. When the setter calls for help, Lance closes in on the ball, getting under it at just the right angle to get a clean set. Keith runs up from behind him, taking off of one leg, somehow still getting stupidly high. The rest seems to happen in slow motion. The ball leaves his hands and moves directly to Keith’s swinging arm. Keith literally closes his eyes as he hits the ball, putting everything into it. 

The smack of the ball hitting the other side of the net, just past the front row of players echoes in the gym. There’s a moment where everything freezes, but then Lance meets Keith’s gaze, grinning from ear to ear. Like they’re magnets, Lance and Keith run to each other, smacking their chests together in a rough, gleeful hug. Lance can hear his team cheering, can hear the audience clapping at the play that just happened. They did it. They’re in the winners bracket. Regardless of what happens now, they’ll be in the top ten teams in the region. 

Reluctantly, Lance leans back from the hug a bit to properly look at Keith and his heart swells. Keith is smiling and it’s so damn beautiful Lance could probably die happy right here. His eyes drift over his face, settling on his lips for just a couple seconds. Before he realizes it, he’s leaning in, closing the small space between them. But then there’s a hand on his chest, holding him back. Lance whimpers, fluttering his eyes open. “Not here,” Keith whispers, moving the hand from Lance’s chest to his wrist. 

With a rough tug, he pulls Lance after him, not bothering to celebrate with the team. Lance follows blindly, just happy to be in any sort of contact with Keith. He can hear his team and Shiro yelling after them, but he doesn’t care, not when Keith is the one dragging him away. They walk quickly, pushing past people in the halls until they turn into a familiar hall, the one Lance had been crying in just before the game. The second they’re out of sight, Keith pushes Lance against the wall and surges forward. 

Their lips meet in a rough, passionate mess. Lance gasps into it, immediately giving Keith the chance to deepen it. He gladly lets Keith explore his mouth, leaning into him. His hands find Keith’s waist, while Keith’s roam his neck and shoulders. He shudders when Keith’s hands tangle in his hair. He brings one of his own up to do the same, sighing at how soft Keith’s hair is despite being sweaty from the game. 

Their bodies are pressed firmly together and they’re hardly giving themselves time to breathe, but neither of them have any desire to slow down. At this moment, Lance realizes this was a long time coming. Keith’s been hot since the beginning, that’s no secret, but Lance didn’t realize just how bad he has it. He’s not sure how he’s ever going to be able to stop kissing Keith. It feels so right. He moans when Keith nips at his bottom lip, and Keith slips a leg between Lance’s. Lance groans, but then suddenly Keith is pulling away, gently cupping Lance’s jaw. 

“As hot as this is, we need to talk,” Keith says sadly. Lance whines and tries to kiss Keith again, but Keith leans back, pinching his cheek. “You’re gonna make this hard, aren’t you?” Lance grins and shrugs. When has he ever made anything easy? 

“You’re just… fuck you’re really hot, Keith Kogane,” Lance says, “talking is overrated. There are much better things we could be doing with our mouths.” Keith sighs, but there seems to be a fondness to it. He still has Lance pressed against the wall, his leg still firmly between his. Keith kisses the corner of Lance’s mouth, then leans closer to his ear. 

“If we talk, we can do a lot more than this,” Keith whispers, “we can request to share a hotel room after all.” Lance shivers, his knees wobble and his heart stops. He drops his head to Keith’s shoulder and takes a shuddering breath. “So let's just sit and talk for a bit, yeah?” Lance hums, not yet willing to lift his head. But then Keith is pulling back and sitting in front of Lance. With a reluctant sigh, he does the same, back pressed against the wall. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” Keith says, “and I know that doesn’t mean much and that it’s going to take me a while to make up for it. But I really care about us.” He pauses to take a deep breath and Lance watches the way his chest rises and falls. “James and I dated for a while when he still went to our school. He was fine at first, but then he got into… well he got into drugs and fell into a shitty crowd.” Lance takes a sharp breath, not wanting to interrupt Keith. 

“He was shitty to me near the end, and when I inevitably broke up with him, he swore to get me back for it. Claimed I wasn’t there for him when he was at his lowest,” Keith says, “and before the away game… I was being stupid. I was just- I was so excited about the night we had at the movies. It’s stupid, but it was genuinely the most fun I’d had in a long time. I was planning to ask you after the game, honestly.” Lance flushes. All of this could have been avoided if they had just talked to each other. 

“But then I ran into him and I stupidly mentioned you and he got all defensive and weird and we started yelling and it was a mess,” Keith says, “I wanted to shove in his face just how much better you and I were than he ever was. So when you missed that first hit, something snapped in me. I felt pathetic. I felt like I was disappointing everyone. I don’t know how to explain it.” Lance nods and guilt pools in his stomach. Why did he, even for a moment, believe what James said? 

“I need to tell you something,” Lance says. Keith hums and Lance takes a deep breath, “at the away game, I was angry and confused about you so I ran to the bathroom to just calm down. While I was there, James came in and he… I’m such an asshole Keith,” Lance says, scratching the back of his neck. Keith looks at him with soft eyes, like he’s about to deny the claim, so Lance keeps talking. 

“He started saying some shitty things about you and I… I don’t know, in the moment I think part of me believed him, even though I knew it couldn’t be true,” Lance says, “it made me resent you and I never should have let that happen. I’m so sorry for believing him. It just felt so much easier to have a reason to stop liking you.” Lance is looking at his shoes, but then hands are hesitantly reaching for his and he looks up.

“It’s okay. I know how he is, and I can’t blame you for finding a reason to hate me. I wasn’t exactly making it easy to like me. I promise I’m not normally this… petty? Secretive? I don’t know, you just bring something out of me I didn’t know was there,” Keith says, “you felt so far away, yet you still chose to spend time with me. You are so far out of my league, McClain, it doesn’t even feel real that we’re having this conversation.” 

Lance can’t help but gasp slightly. “You think I’m out of your league?” Lance says in disbelief, “you think I’m out of your league? That’s like… Keith, do you know how crazy you sound? You’re the one who’s out of my league. You are one of the hottest, coolest, smartest people on the planet. You might be a bit socially stunted, but damn, everything else is perfect.” Keith shakes his head, dismissing everything Lance says. 

“Lance, you’re one of the most kind hearted people I’ve ever met, and considering Shiro’s my brother, that says a lot,” Keith says softly, “you’re out of my league in every way shape, or form, which is why I’ve been so stupid about everything.” Lance smiles at him. They’re going to get nowhere if they keep denying each other’s compliments. 

“Can we agree we’re both out of each other’s league?” Lance asks softly. Keith smiles and squeezes Lance’s hands reassuringly. They stare at each other in silence, so much passing between their eyes. “I think we’ve done enough talking for today,” Lance whispers. Keith grins and brings a hand up to cup Lance’s jaw. 

“Mmm, I have to agree,” Keith says, lips brushing Lance’s, “but we’ll really sort everything out later, okay?” Lance nods, closing the gap between them. The kisses this time are softer. There’s less urgency and more understanding. It’s soft and slow and so sweet Lance’s heart might explode. This time, both of his hands tangle into Keith’s hair gently and he sighs with contentment. Why did he deny himself of this for weeks? Unfortunately, they both snap their heads up when someone clears their throat at the end of the hall. 

Shiro is standing there, hands on his hips as he looks at the two of them. Lance’s hands are still in Keith’s hair, and Keith is practically in his lap. “I’m uh- well I’m glad you guys sorted things out,” Shiro says awkwardly, “the bus is leaving for the hotel, we gotta get going.” Keith and Lance just stare in horror for a second at being caught. But Lance calms down pretty quickly. If anyone knew before they did, it was Shiro. “I’ll just… be outside. Hurry up.” He gives them one final smile, and this one is genuine and fond. Once he’s out of sight, they both burst into laughter, falling into each other. 

“Well, cats out of the bag, I guess,” Lance says, “sit with me on the bus?” Keith grins and pecks Lance’s cheek before standing up. 

“Of course,” Keith says, “might be hard to convince Shiro to let us share a room now, though.” Lance chuckles and takes the hand Keith offers out to him. He keeps their hands connected as they walk down the hall. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think he’ll need much convincing,” Lance says, “he loves love.” Keith just sighs, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips. 

“How am I going to deal with you all the time, blue?” Keith asks. Lance bumps their shoulders with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to pick me, the cheesiness is just part of the deal,” Lance says. 

“I think I can handle that,” Keith says, pulling Lance outside. As they approach the bus, Pidge squints at them, then their connected hands and breaks out into a grin so wide Lance can see it from ten feet away. He has a feeling they knew all along, too. Maybe he and Keith were the only idiots who didn’t. 

–

The bus ride to the hotel is only twenty minutes, but Lance still manages to fall asleep. He blames Keith’s warm, comfortable chest. He doesn’t want to be the gross, sappy couple… if that’s what they end up being. But with everything that’s led up to this Lance is almost scared that if he blinks, Keith will disappear. When they pull into the parking lot of the hotel, it’s just about time for dinner. “I don’t wanna get up,” Lance mumbles when Keith shakes him awake. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Keith asks, trying to shake Lance off of his shoulder. Lance just groans and becomes dead weight against Keith. 

“I got my meal right here,” Lance says, winking at Keith. Keith sighs and finally pushes Lance off of him so they’re sitting normally. 

“Save that for later, idiot,” Keith says, “if I don’t eat in the next thirty minutes, I’m going to lose my marbles.” He stands, rolling out the shoulder Lance was asleep on. Lance chuckles when he sees a small wet patch where his mouth was. He may drool on occasion. Keith wrinkles his nose when he sees it. “Gross,” he mumbles, kicking Lance’s ankles until he stands up. 

“Hey, at least it’s drool and not snot,” Lance says, “ that would be disgusting.” Keith pushes him off the bus to join everyone else as they gather their bags and sort into pairs to sign into their rooms. The hotel is on the smaller side, meaning the rooms each have two single beds. Thankfully, the main floor has a restaurant that’s more than happy to reserve a table for the entire team for breakfast and dinner while they’re here. Once they’re outside, Shiro is standing directly in front of them. 

“Hey… best brother in the world,” Keith says, smiling brightly. Lance is just behind him, trying not to burst out laughing at the serious dad look on Shiro’s face. 

“Listen, I’m happy about this development and all, but you’re not allowed to be gross in front of me,” Shiro says, “and- if I let you guys share a room, cause I know you’re going to ask, you better behave.” Lance is laughing into his hand now as Keith just stands there with a pout. 

“You and Matt are gross all the time,” Keith says with a huff. Shiro sighs and looks over his shoulder at Lance. He motions him over and Lance stands next to Keith, shoulder to shoulder. 

“It’s true, you guys are so stupidly in love it’s kinda disgusting,” Lance says with a shrug. 

“You two are going to be annoying, aren’t you?” Shiro asks. They both just shrug and smile innocently. 

“We’re young and free, Shiro,” Lance says, “let us act on all of our repressed feelings!” Shiro shushes him, but there’s a small smile on his face. Beneath it all, Shiro seems really, genuinely happy for them. 

“Just not in public,” Shiro says, “now get your bags and pick a room. I need dinner pronto.” 

“You and me both,” Keith sighs. Shiro watches with a fond smile as Lance drags Keith to the pile of bags. They’re smacking and punching each other playfully. They’re going to be a handful, but this is a lot better than the longing looks while they weren’t talking. Shiro can’t really blame them, it’s hard being young and in love.

Chapter Text

Lance is laying on his floor staring at the ceiling when his phone buzzes next to him. He doesn’t answer right away, rubbing at his eyes before searching the floor around him for his phone. He doesn’t look at who it is before he answers, he just brings it up to his ear. “McClain speaking,” Lance says as professionally as possible. He gets a sigh in response that he immediately recognizes as Pidge. 

“Are you laying on the floor again?” they ask. Lance sighs. Damn his friends for knowing him so well. 

“Yeah, and what about it?” Lance huffs. They graduated a couple weeks ago and Lance has been… lost. He just doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. Sure, he has plenty of opportunities, the high science program and volleyball definitely opened doors for him, it’s just… too much. 

“You’ve been moping since before graduation,” Pidge says, “none of us know what we wanna do.” Lance sighs and sits up. He’s sick of thinking about this. “Anyways, what are you doing this week?” Lance looks at his very empty calendar. The only day marked is his birthday. 

“Not much, I mean I was gonna invite you guys over for my birthday or something,” Lance says, shrugging even though Pidge can’t see him. 

“Well, pack some bags, we’re going to a cottage,” Pidge says, “we leave on Monday.” Lance’s energy immediately picks up and he presses the phone harder against his ear. 

“Really? How’d you pull that off?” Lance asks, “aren’t all the cottages booked up by like february?” He hears Pidge chuckle and he can picture the grin on their face. 

“You know the art teacher you had first semester?” Pidge says, not waiting for Lance to answer before starting again, “well, she has this massive cottage that her and Mr. Coran inherited when her father died. It’s like… it’s basically a castle.” 

“I don’t see how this helps us. I’m happy she has a cottage?” Lance asks dumbly. 

“You idiot, she invited us to come to the cottage, apparently she and Shiro are really good friends,” Pidge says, “ everyone is invited. Well, our version of everyone anyways.” Lance finally sits up completely straight at that. Excitement courses through him. As fun as the summer has been, he’s spent so much of it worrying about what he’s going to do with his life. A week at a cottage sounds like a really good way to forget about it. And with all of his friends. And Keith. 

“I’m there,” Lance says, “send me the details.” 

“And uh- don’t think we forgot about your birthday, okay?” Pidge says. Lance smiles softly. 

–

Lance is pacing his room, quadruple checking that he has everything packed. He’s always been like this. He hates the idea of forgetting anything, so the only option is to rip his bags apart time and time again to make sure everything is there. As he’s pacing though, Keith reaches out from where he is on Lance’s bed and grabs his wrist, looking at him with soft eyes. “I promise you have everything,” Keith says. Lance instantly relaxes and walks to stand directly in front of Keith. 

“Pinky promise?” Lance asks, sticking his pinky out. Keith chuckles, but he hooks their pinkies together. He then pulls Lance forward so they’re both on the bed, landing with a huff. Lance giggles and hides his face in Keith’s neck. “You’re so hot,” Lance mumbles. He feels Keith’s laugh vibrate through them and it makes his entire body warm. Keith runs a hand through his hair and Lance melts into it. 

“You’ve mentioned,” Keith says. Lance can hear the smirk in his voice and he just has to look up. That smirk is the hottest thing that has ever existed on this planet. 

“It’s really not fair. I mean you’re like… you’re like a greek god,” Lance says, “and you don’t even try! Like you just wake up looking like this. You didn’t know how to use conditioner until you met me! How is your face so… soft?” Lance traces his fingers over Keith’s face, smiling when Keith’s eyes flutter closed. It will never not surprise him that he has the ability to turn Keith into a melted lump. 

“You’re biased,” Keith hums, “I think you’re the one who looks like a greek god. I mean, your bone structure… yeah that’s pretty damn beautiful.” Lance groans as his cheeks flush and he lets his head drop to Keith’s chest. He’s probably never going to get used to the compliments from Keith. They immediately put him in shambles. 

“It’s not fair when you say things like that,” Lance grumbles into his chest. Keith just laughs and starts tracing shapes on Lance’s back. 

“What, like how your hair is the softest thing in the world? Or how your freckles are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” Keith says, voice low and soft, “or how when I look into your eyes, I get lost and don’t want to find my way back?” Lance scoffs and looks up at him. 

“Keith Kogane, when did you get so poetic?” Lance asks. He leans forward and kisses the corner of Keith’s mouth, grinning when Keith tries to chase him for more. He’s somehow got this guy wrapped around his finger. “Nuh uh, we need to finish packing,” Lance says, pressing a finger to Keith’s pouting lips. 

“No, you need to pack. I need to sit here and watch you pack,” Keith says, “not that I’m complaining about the view or anything…” Lance smacks his chest and stands up. 

“You perv,” Lance says playfully, “now help me shove this all in here, Hunk is going to be here soon with the van.” About ten minutes later, Hunk pulls up with the van and they make their way outside. They walk up to the van, hand in hand, lugging their bags with them. Pidge sticks their head out the passenger window and rolls their eyes. 

“Do you guys ever not hold hands?” Pidge asks playfully. The door behind them opens and Shiro sticks his head out with a bright smile. 

“Ignore them, you guys are adorable, now get in the damn van, we’re running late,” Shiro says. With a grin, Lance makes his way to the van, shoving his and Keith’s bags in Matt and Shiro’s direction. He and Keith squish into the backseats with the rest of the bags and buckle in. 

“Alright, to infinity and beyond!” Lance says. He gets a few groans in response, but the van starts moving and all of his worries seem to get left behind with his house. He’s going to have fun this week. 

“Dork,” Keith mumbles. Lance just smiles and leans forward to interrogate Shiro about his friendship with Allura. 

–

Despite the car ride only being a couple hours, Lance and Keith both manage to fall asleep. It’s not the most comfortable, but if he’s with Keith, Lance genuinely can’t find anything to complain about. They’re woken up by a pair of shoes being tossed at them and an evil cackle from Pidge. “Ugh, my neck hurts,” Lance says with a pout. Keith groans and stretches out his arms, purposely hitting Lance in the face. 

“Oops, sorry, didn’t see you there,” Keith says playfully. Lance grumbles, but he’s too drowsy from being woken up to do anything about it. 

“We’re here, you gotta see this place,” Pidge says, “it’s even cooler in person.” After some more grumbling and shuffling, they make their way out of the van, lugging their bags with them. When they look up at the cottage, they suddenly feel completely awake. Pidge wasn’t lying, it literally looks like a castle. It’s massive, with floor to ceiling windows, pillar like rooms on either side, and a beautiful, massive balcony that seems to wrap around the entire second floor. 

“Holy shit,” Lance says in awe. Keith is next to him, staring in the same awe as him. 

“Come on, we need to see the inside, it’s probably insane,” Pidge says. The next hour consists of looking at every single room in the cottage. It’s insane. There’s a theater, gym, game room, two common rooms, an amazing kitchen, two spiral staircases and even an indoor pool. Outside, there are numerous kayaks, canoes and paddle boards in the shed and Lance can’t wait to get out into the water. The view from the back is amazing. They’re super close to the water and even have their own private beach. Lance wants to live here. 

After the tour is over and they’ve explored everything they can, they pick their rooms and settle in. Lance and Keith’s room has a large window looking out at the water. Lance falls onto the bed and when Keith walks by, he reaches out and wraps his arms around him and pulls him onto the bed. Keith huffs, but laughs once he settles on Lance’s chest, letting Lance squeeze him. “Look at the view,” Lance says. 

“You gotta stop saying that every time you look at me,” Keith says. But he’s blushing, like he does every time Lance says anything cheesy. 

“But you do that every time,” Lance says, kissing his cheek, “I’ll stop when you stop reacting like that.” Keith huffs and hides his face in Lance’s shoulder. They stay there for a while, just existing within each other's bubbles. 

“It’s nice to see you happy,” Keith says after a while. He props himself up on Lance’s chest to look at him. The sun is just starting to set, and it looks beautiful in Keith’s eyes. It sparkles and Lance can feel himself getting lost in them. 

“What do you mean?” Lance asks. But he knows what Keith is talking about. There’s no secret that graduating has been really hard on Lance. 

“You’ve just been… tense,” Keith says, “it was like the second we got here you just… relaxed.” Lance smiles, but he starts to feel a bit guilty. He didn’t want his friends to be affected by his stupor. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance says with a frown, “I didn’t… want to make you feel like… I don’t know. I sound stupid.” He shuts himself up. He doesn’t really know what he’s trying to say. 

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” Keith says, brushing hair from Lance’s forehead, “you’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to not know what you’re doing. And I know I still make you happy, before you say anything. Okay?” Lance smiles softly and kisses every part of Keith’s face that he can. 

“Pinch me,” Lance says. Keith rolls his eyes and rolls off of Lance. Lance pouts at him, so Keith kisses his cheek before standing up and offering out a hand. 

“Come on, I’m sure everyone’s already setting up the Monopoly board,” Keith says. Lance groans, falling back onto the bed. “Come on, we can be on a team, it’ll be fun.” Lance sits up and glares at Keith. 

“Last time we were on a team, you lost all of our money in the first five turns,” Lance says, “you’re too impatient to be good at Monopoly.” Keith rolls his eyes and yanks at Lance’s arms, forcing him off of the bed. 

“I’ll let you call the shots, okay?” Keith says, pulling Lance out of their room. 

“Mmm, really? You never let me do that,” Lance says with a smirk. Keith just huffs. 

“Don’t think that’s going to change,” Keith says, “I know you like it that way anyways.” Lance just flushes and does his best not to let his mind wander to dirty places when their friends are waiting out there for them. He’s got to keep it in his pants long enough for a board game. He can do that. When they get to the common area, Pidge is on Hunk’s shoulder, trying to wrestle something out of his hands. Allura and Matt are giggling over a couple glasses of wine, and Shiro is doing his best to stop Pidge and Hunk. Although best is a bit of an overstatement. He’s mostly watching with amusement. 

“Ah! There you are!” Hunk says, thrashing under Pidge, “can you remind this gremlin that I always play the thimble?” Lance puts his hands up in surrender and makes a beeline for the wine. 

“Do not involve me in this,” Lance says, “last time I tried to argue with Pidge, they nearly took my arm off.” He turns his back to them, smiling fondly out of their view. He finds their fights to be quite comforting. He stops in front of Allura and Matt, who both turn to him with slightly flushed cheeks. He needs to catch up. 

“Looking for some wine?” Matt asks, trying to sound as fancy as he can. Lance nods, and just then, Keith slides up next to him, wrapping a hand around his waist, tucking his fingers into Lance’s belt loop. Sure, Lance might be under the legal drinking age, but that’s never stopped him before. Besides, it’s just a glass of wine. He’ll be fine. 

“You sure you want red?” Keith asks softly, “last time you had some, you had a migraine for hours the next day.” Lance leans into him, pressing his cheek to his shoulder. 

“Always looking out for me,” Lance hums, “you’re such a simp.” Keith grumbles, but Lance finds it adorable. Keith is probably right, he should avoid red wine for now. “Matt, do we have white?” Matt soon walks over with two glasses of wine, handing one to each of them. They soon make their way to the table, finally deciding their pieces after some mild arguing. Pidge ends up with the thimble. 

“So, should we go for big properties or small ones and hotels?” Lance whispers as Shiro hands out the money. Keith just shrugs. They’re both on the couch, next to Pidge and Hunk. Keith has their ankles locked under the table, and he’s leaning closer to Lance than he has to. 

“You’re calling the shots, you tell me,” Keith says. 

“You’re not going to help me at all?” Lance asks with a pout. Before Keith can answer, a hotel hits Lance square in the temple and he doesn’t even have to consider who threw it. He glares at Matt. “What?” 

“It’s your turn to roll dumbass, stop being all gross with your boyfriend,” Matt says. Lance squints at him, at the way his shoulder is pressed firmly against Shiro’s. 

“Hypocrite,” Lance mutters, grabbing the dice. To no one's surprise, the game takes about an hour longer than it needs to, and there is a lot more arguing, negotiating and blackmailing than necessary. It’s the most fun Lance has had since the summer started. 

–

When Lance wakes up, he’s surprised to see Keith still sound asleep on his chest. Normally, Keith’s up way before him, out on a run or doing some other psycho stuff. It’s nice. He kisses the top of his head, happy to feel his weight and warmth against him. Keith looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. It’s not that he doesn’t when he’s awake, he’s gotten a lot better at relaxing, he’s just… different when he’s asleep. The sun is streaming through their window, still low in the sky. Keith hums and shifts, blinking his eyes open softly. 

“Morning beautiful,” Lance says, tucking hair behind his ear. Keith, still hardly awake, leans into the touch, flushing slightly. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” Lance hums. Keith smiles and looks up at Lance. 

“What time is it?” Keith asks, voice slurring with sleep. Lance shifts them so he can grab his phone, shocking even himself when he sees the time. 

“Jeez, it’s six thirty,” Lance says, “I don’t think I’ve woken up this early without an alarm for years.” Keith just smiles and hides himself in Lance’s chest further. 

“What time do you think everyone is gonna wake up?” Keith asks. Lance can hardly hear him, he feels the words more than anything. 

“We were up pretty late, probably at like nine,” Lance says. When he looks out the window, an idea strikes him. Hunk is going to make them an amazing breakfast, but until then, Lance wants to do something. Not that laying in bed with Keith isn’t something amazing to do. “How opposed are you to getting wet right now?” Keith looks up at him with a glare and Lance just sighs, waving him off. “Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s too early for that kind of shower. I wanna go paddle boarding.” 

“So it’s too early for shower sex, but not for paddling along the lake?” Keith asks. 

“Hey, you’re the one who goes on five am runs every day,” Lance says, “I don’t wanna hear it. Come paddle with me. Please?” Keith tries to hold his ground, but he gives up pretty quickly and he lets Lance drag him out of bed, into their bathing suits, and over to the water. As much as Keith complains the entire time, once they’re at the dock with their boards, he can’t stop himself from smiling. 

“Wanna race to the other side of the lake?” Keith asks, pushing his board into the water. Lance does the same, holding in place with his foot. 

“Oh, you’re on mullet,” Lance says, “first one there and back wins, loser has to… 

“Help Hunk make breakfast,” Keith supplies. They both shudder. Hunk is a human teddy bear… until he’s in the kitchen. Then he turns into Gordon Ramsay. It’s like his inner demons all come out and attack you for cutting an onion into slices that are slightly too big. 

“On three?” Lance says. Keith looks at him, grinning. Lance has a feeling Keith isn’t going to wait until three. And right of cue, Keith rushes into the water, getting a head start on Lance. They both paddle like their lives depend on it, making sure to sabotage each other every chance they get. Lance can hardly breathe by the time they get back, laughter and exertion taking all of his energy. He gets there just seconds before Keith. 

“You cheated,” Keith says, laying on his board. Lance pushes their boards together and does the same, holding Keith’s hand so they don’t drift apart. 

“You’re the one who got a head start,” Lance says, “I don’t want to hear it. You lost fair and square.” 

“You hit me with your paddle,” Keith says. 

“And you splashed me when I was laughing, that’s attempted murder Keith!” Lance says, sitting up. Keith does the same, and they realize they’ve drifted quite a bit from the dock. 

“Want to go to that little island thing?” Keith asks. Lance isn’t sure how long they’ve been out here, but he doesn’t see any movement through any of the windows, so he nods. They paddle next to each other, talking idly about what imaginary flavour of Pepsi would be the best. The island is closer than they thought, which means it’s also smaller than they thought. 

“You think it can support both of us?” Lance asks. Keith rolls his eyes and climbs onto the island. It’s about the size of a basketball court. He pulls his board up with him and helps Lance do the same. They spend the next while exploring the little space, wondering how the little insects and critters survive so far from any trees or real land. Lance feels like his inner child is coming out and it feels really nice. 

“Hey, look at him,” Keith says, ruffling through a bush. Lance comes up beside him, pressing their shoulders together. Keith pulls something shiny out from the bush, brushing the dirt off of it. Lance can’t help but giggle when he sees what it is. “What the fuck?” Keith murmurs, turning it in his hand. It’s a pink heart made of glass, just about the size of Keith’s palm. 

“Awww, someone probably buried this here with their partner,” Lance says, “that’s adorable. It’s like carving your initials on a tree or something.” Keith considers this and places the heart back down gently where he found it, brushing some dirt over it. 

“Probably best we don’t mess with it,” Keith says, grabbing Lance's hand, “we should find a tree to carve our initials into.” Lance smiles at him and squeezes his hand. 

“Really? You said that was way too cheesy the first time I mentioned it,” Lance says. Keith just shrugs and starts pulling them towards their boards. They need to get back before the sun burns them to a crisp and their friends start worrying. 

“I guess I just get it now,” Keith says, “it’s not cheesy when you’re with the right person.” Lance scrunches his nose, but Keith is right. Nothing really feels cheesy when you’re in love. All those sappy, cringy couple things just become natural. Lance stops them just before the boards. The sun is warm on his back, his skin is tingly everywhere. Keith’s hands naturally find Lance’s hips when they face each other. 

“I love you,” Lance says. Keith smiles and knocks their foreheads together. How could Lance ever feel lost when Keith is right there to ground him. Who cares what his future holds, as long as Keith is there with him. 

“Love you too, blue,” Keith says, “come on, I can feel the sun burning me.” Lance chuckles, pecks him quickly, then shoves his board into the water. When they walk inside, they don’t expect to see anyone, but they’re immediately met with the delicious smell of omelets. 

“Jeez, there you are,” Pidge says, nursing a cup of black coffee, “Shiro was about to start a search party.” Shiro sighs and shakes his head, but he doesn’t deny it. Matt just laughs at him from the kitchen where he’s busy cutting up peppers for Hunk. 

“The water was calling for me, I had to answer her,” Lance says, pushing Keith towards the pot of coffee. Keith smiles and busies himself getting coffee for both of them, “besides, I woke before Keith for once, I had to take advantage of that.” 

“So you dragged him into the lake?” Allura asks. 

“Yes, and I’ll have you know he had a lot of fun,” Lance says, crossing his arms with a huff. 

“Well, this just means you’re helping make dinner tonight, so I don’t really care,” Pidge says, “Hunk has been bossing Matt around for the past hour.” 

“Have not!” Hunk yells over the sizzling of the pan he’s holding. Lance smiles as he looks around at all of his friends. Everyone looks so peaceful and happy. It’s nice not having to think about the future for a while. He just gets to be a person without any outside stress. He gets to argue over Monopoly and dunk his boyfriend in the lake. Maybe he just needs to take things a day at a time and stop worrying so much about the future. It’s going to happen regardless, at least he has good people there with him.