Chapter Text
When Lance was eight his sister came home with a boy, and that night she told Lance that the boy was special because their string led them to each other.
“Who does my string lead me to? Is he special, too?”
“Your string leads you to your soulmate. Your soulmate’s special to you, but she’s probably a girl.”
Unimportant details, to the eight-year-old mind. The only important thing was that there was a string tied around his finger that would lead him to his soulmate, and that was exciting.
((The whole concept was weirdly hard to grasp when he was that young, the fact that nobody could see his string and that he couldn’t see anybody else’s, but he tried.))
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When Lance was ten, he met Pidge on the playground of their school, on the first day of fifth grade. He didn’t remember what they’d talked about, but they must have gotten along pretty well to have never strayed apart. And Pidge, who didn’t have a red string of fate, was completely fine with not having a soulmate, and they’d never really wanted one, either. It was a foreign concept, but ten-year-olds really didn’t get hung up about much. So the facts were given and accepted, and they’d moved on to pour glue all over their hands so they could peel it off and get yelled at by the teacher.
Lance was twelve when he met Hunk, who had been friends with Pidge from a summer camp. And Hunk, who’d already met his soulmate and was too young still to really grasp it, was a good candidate to talk to about most things. They’d all managed to get the same homeroom class every year in middle school and high school, which meant seeing each other at least once a day. So, logically, if they’d spent all that time together, of course they wouldn’t shake each other off when graduation came and went and college started. Even if it meant having to drive hours back to Roseville, where they’d both stayed to go to the town’s community college, then so be it, Lance supposed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
At first, Lance thought something was wrong with it. The string had always been taut, never slouching and never angling down. So when it did start to slouch down and lose its ever-present tautness, of course Lance had thought that something was wrong. And then he wondered if a string of fate could break, because it wasn’t a physical string. And then, while he was thinking about physical strings, it occurred to him that real strings slouched when they stopped being pulled so hard, which meant that the other end of the string much have been much closer than it had ever been before.
Lance followed the string.
Did he have classes to go to? Yeah, he hadn’t even been to his first class of the day. Did he have assignments to work on when he got back home? He had so much homework it wasn’t even funny. Did he want to know why the string was slouching? A lot more than he wanted to write an essay.
It seemed to tug at him, pulling him along when it figured out that he was following it. Lance followed it out of the building and all the way past the coffee shop that sat on the edge of the campus before it started to glow. It was dull at first, like the sun was just hitting it right. But, again, it wasn’t a physical string, was it? The sun couldn’t hit it.
The glowing grew brighter, until it was impossible to say it was just a beam of sunlight. Lance probably looked strange, plodding along with his eyes glued intently to his finger. Judging from the pat on the back from the old woman at the corner of a crosswalk, though, most people knew what was going on.
The slouching furthered, to the point where the string was just dragging on the ground. Then it lifted, growing tighter again, and continuing to do so until Lance’s finger hit a boy in the stomach. The boy let out a small grunt, eyes flicking up to meet Lance’s. The string wrapped around the boys finger was, undeniably, the same string that was tied around Lance’s.
“You’re stabbing me in the stomach,” the boy said, and Lance pulled his finger back, tucking his hands into his pockets. The string followed, stubbornly, and the boy watched it. Lance hadn’t seen a whole lot of romantic movies, but not a whole bunch of them started off like this.
“I’m Lance,” he supplied, eyes flicking off to the side to try and figure out where he’d ended up. He was pretty sure it was only a mile or two away from where he’d started off, but that meant he’d probably been walking for an hour.
The boy’s hands hovered over his own pockets, like he wanted to hide his hands as well but didn’t want to seem like he was copying Lance. “Keith.”
Lance grinned. The boy with the mullet was named Keith. His jacket looked like it should have little pins on it, declaring things like aliens are out there! or my chemical romance or closets are for clothes! There weren’t any buttons on the jacket, but there was buttons decorating Keith’s laptop case. Boring buttons without words, just red and black and gray ones. Lance wondered if he put gel in his hair.
“Stop grinning like that, you look like you’re plotting something,” Keith accused, giving in and sticking his hands in his pockets.
Lance plastered a look of faux offense on his face. “Am I not allowed to be happy? This is such a touching moment.” He was fairly sure that his sister had come home draped on her soulmate’s arm, and his brother had come back staring at his soulmate like she was the only thing that mattered. He was very sure that neither of them bickered with their soulmate from the moment that they met.
Lance didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to say, and it was obvious Keith didn’t, either.
He returned to class with his soulmate’s number in his phone and a nagging feeling of disappointment.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Message To: Keith
do u have a major??
Message From: Keith
Yes.
Message To: Keith
: 00000 what is it
Message From: Keith
English Literature.
Message From: Keith
Do you have a major?
Message To: Keith
I’m an art major!
Message From: Keith
What kind of art do you make?
Message To: Keith
mostly digital, it’s faster. but I like painting—its rly messy tho
Message To: Keith
u must like reading then;; whats ur favorite book ??
Message From: Keith
I like old books. I don’t have a favorite. Your texting style is atrocious.
Message To: Keith
ur typing is more boring thn my mom! at least she has meotion
Message To: Keith
emotion**
Message From: Keith
At least I’m literate.
Message From: Keith
I hate texting, can’t we just set a time to meet up somewhere? There’s a coffee shop by my campus.
Message From: Keith
Our campus? I don’t know what college you go to.
Message To: Keith
my names lance
Message From: Keith
I know that?
Message To: Keith
but u can call me ANYTIME ; )
Message From: Keith
I take it back and I’m blocking you.
Message From: Keith
If you’re not free at four tomorrow I’m blocking you.
Message To: Keith
lucky 4 u I only have a boring class then. i hope u like ur coffee like u like ur soulmate
Message From: Keith
Aggravating, illiterate, overconfident, tiresome?
Message To: Keith
I was thinkin hot but that works 2
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The coffee shop was cluttered, busy with people and tired-looking baristas. Lance arrived at the same time as Keith, stopping with his hand hovering over the handle of the door. He glanced at Keith, who was eyeing the chaos with distaste.
“There’s a park by my apartment,” Keith said finally, shoving his hands into his pocket. Lance fought down the urge to put his own hands in his pockets. “Nobody ever goes there, but it’s okay. It won’t be crowded.”
Lance shrugged. “Lead the way.”
The leaves were already fluttering down and forming piles under the trees. Lance wished he wore a thicker jacket, he hadn’t expected it to be so cold out. Keith’s hands burrowed deeper down in his pockets, and Lance assumed he was cold as well. They both pretended to not be cold at all, sitting down at one of the picnic benches that dotted the grass. If it had been a romance movie, they would have sat on the swings and talked about their deepest secrets. Lance was really, really glad it wasn’t a romance movie.
Neither of them had anything to say still, and they sat in silence for a long stretch of minutes. Lance thought back to what they’d texted about, finally saying, “you’re not a whole lot livelier in person.”
“Well, you’re a lot more literate in person,” Keith shot back, slouching. “And a whole lot calmer, too.”
“You’ve got me there,” Lance agreed. He paused again, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Favorite color—go.”
“What?”
“Answer the question, Keith!”
“Okay, um, I don’t know, red?” Keith looked more bewildered than he sounded.
“Why do you like red?”
Keith squinted at him. “Do I need a reason to like a color? It’s nice to look at.”
“Well, yeah, everyone’s got a reason for liking their favorite color. For example, my favorite color’s blue because every shade of blue looks nice, no matter what,” Lance supplied. “Every other color has ugly shades, but blue always looks good.” Keith raised an eyebrow at him, shrugging.
“It just looks nice. It’s warm?”
“Hmm…we’ll work on that. Favorite smell?”
Keith raised his eyebrow higher. Lance suppressed a grin, keeping up his joking façade of seriousness. “Winterberry, but only in those Christmas candles.” He continued when Lance opened up his mouth to demand a reason. “Because it smells like good memories. You have to answer, too. Otherwise it’s just weird.”
“Black amethyst. The, uh, the perfume. For the same reason.”
Keith’s lips twitched into the faintest resemblance of a smile and Lance fought down his redness from the admittance.
“Okay, favorite season—go.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Message To: Keith
[image attached]
i said id send u one of my painting so here u go
Message From: Keith
That’s cool.
Message To: Keith
such a bland answer!!!!! u wound me. : (
Message From: Keith
Okay, uh, I like the colors? That’s a lot of blue. It does look good, though. It looks really realistic, actually. I don’t know a ton about art but I know that’s impressive so. Good job.
Message To: Keith
better. and I only use blue, that’s like my thing
Message To: Keith
now u have 2 send me ur writing!!!!
Message From: Keith
You’re less annoying in person, somehow.
Message From: Keith
And no.
Message To: Keith
K E I T H
Message To: Keith
K E I T H P L E A S E
Message To: Keith
ಠ_ಠ do it for l o v e
Message From: Keith
Okay, jeez, but you have to stop being annoying if I do. Agreed?
Message To: Keith
No, but send it anyway!
Message From: Keith
…
Message From: Keith
[file attached]
[. . .]
Message To: Keith
- (┛✧Д✧))┛彡┻━┻
Message From: Keith
I don’t know what that means.
Message To: Keith
It means ! screw blue art ! that’s talent there !
Message From: Keith
Hm. If you say so.
Message To: Keith
You’re better in person 2. R u free 2morro @ like 3 ?
Message From: Keith
I am if you’ll stop typing like we’re in 2012.
Message To: Keith
N E V E R
Message From: Keith
This is a real shame but I have a funeral to attend that day.
Message To: Keith
F I N E
Message From: Keith
The funeral has mysteriously been cancelled. I’ll be there at 3.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~